I’m an Ex-Catholic: Would You Be One Too?

Jerad T Bryant
ENGL 445
Published in
7 min readApr 24, 2019
Protestors line up in front of the Cathedral Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul on Ash Wednesday in 2011.

Catholicism has been one of the most consistent and omnipresent things in my life, until last year when I decided I would no longer consider myself Catholic. I am now an “Ex-Catholic.” Us Ex-Catholics comprise 13% of all Americans, with Catholicism having the highest rate of converts to other religions, and the largest amount of people that completely drop out of the faith.

Despite the large presence of Catholic dropouts, the religion still remains one of the largest denominations in the U.S. and has the potential to affect millions of lives on a daily basis. As an adolescent it affected mine in a way that repressed me for years. I was urged to try and “pray away the gay” and to turn to confession to spill my “dirty thoughts.”

But before my self-expression was routinely repressed, I had two close friends in grade school also affected by the Church, through abuse done by the hands of Church officials. I never heard of what had been done until years later (right around the time I left the faith) and upon hearing these accounts I was filled with disgust and horror. This priest had hosted some of our first Sacraments. He had given us children advice and told us to be good for our parents. And amidst all that, he had also scarred my two friends and turned them away from the faith.

Although I now have disdain for Catholocism, this discovery hurt deeply at the time. The Church had offered me volunteering opportunities, had fostered a place where I made lifelong friends, and had given my family an excuse to get dressed up and be together every Sunday for one hour of silence (and the occasional off-key group singing). Yes, I hated myself because the Church taught me that I had “immoral urges” and was not normal, however at the same time I still held on to plenty of memories that were spurred by Catholic activities.

Ultimately these memories were but memories, and to me the well-being of abuse victims is far more important than attending holy events. It wasn’t until my friends shared their stories that I realized there might be good people in the Church, but that as a whole it is an unstoppable force that creates victims on a daily basis. And, once I acknowledged my own sense of self as an adult and ousted all the internalized homophobia I had consumed, I realized it was time to make a change.

An empty church in Rome.

I knew I alone could not change the ways of the Church, so I left. Why be apart of a community that despised who I was, who told me I could and should repress my sexuality? Statistics show that I am but one of many Catholics that have left the faith. For decades patrons have been leaving. There are many reasons to leave (homophobia, repression, the overt presence of churches with bad lighting), but the main case to be made against the Church is the history of rampant sexual abuse that goes unchecked within closed circles. In the past 20 years two major investigations have revealed over thousands of cases of sexual abuse, rape, and molestation committed by all types of Church officials, including bishops cardinals, local priests, archbishops, and nuns.

Most recently a report filed by the U.S Department of Justice revealed over 1,000 cases of abuse in Pennsylvania that have occurred since the 1950s. One of the most striking findings is that this abuse is not happening in isolation. Clergy from the top down are aware of the abuse, and attempt to hide the allegations. Even in my own parish, the priest that abused my friends was actually a part of a larger sexual abuse scandal in secret. The presiding pastor offered no explanation to us parishioners, and it was only years later that we discovered the priest had been “let go” for private reasons. His departure from the school and church was marked with secrecy, and numerous altar servers besides my two friends experienced molestation at the hands of this priest without receiving justice of any type. What’s worse is that the larger scandal involved Cardinal Mahony, the previous archbishop of the Los Angeles diocese, who was moving priests accused of sexual abuse to other parishes. Rather than remove these abusers, Mahony chose to foster abuse and “protect” the Church. And to make matters even worse, the priest was allowed to keep his salary until he could find other options for work.

Stories like these have become commonplace in churches across the country, and are seemingly insurmountable. The most disheartening thing about these accounts is the method bishops use to ensure secrecy. Abusive clergy avoid punishment with the method that has been termed “shuffling,” in which a higher up bishop, like Mahony, is aware of sexual abuse and of the priests that commit it. They move those priests to another district in order to avoid any and all consequences of the law and of negative public opinion. My priest was caught in a sexual abuse scandal involving young boys, was removed from the parish, and allowed to live without repercussions on Church salary.

How then, are we supposed to trust the Church to police itself?

In order to ensure safety for victims and for their families, these cases must be brought to fruition within legal terms. Priests and bishops, because of the institutional history of abuse, cannot be trusted to hold each other accountable. This is especially true because of the ways in which secrecy is upheld in church circles. In a Daily Mail podcast Laura Goodstein details the ways in which these instances of abuse are allowed to continue behind closed doors. She speaks of a scenario that is found often during her journalist investigations, one in which a priest may have sexual relations with someone, whether that be consensual or not, and this is made aware to other Church officials. But because the sexual secrecy is so widespread in the Church, clergy members blackmail each other into secrecy. Out of an intense fear of public scandal, Church officials keep the details of cases of abuse within documents that will never come to light without legal intervention.

A setting sun lights up the backside of the steeple on St. Benedict The Moor Catholic Church in Pittsburgh.

Just around a month after the scathing Pennsylvania report, Pope Francis held a three-day conference on the prevalence of abuse in the Church. Bishops from around the globe gathered at the Vatican and discussed how to implement better screening and accountability measures for both bishops and priests. Finally, there is evidence of some action being done to combat the presence of pedophilia and rape within church circles by the Church itself. Although it is heartwarming to hear that the Pope and his constituents may be working to provide support for its victims, the larger presence of abuse in Church circles will continue if left unchecked by legal codes, and thus the sexual secrecy will continue too.

Other progressive actions have shown growth in the Church as well. In the wake of the abuse scandal in Pennsylvania, a bishop actually resigned over sexual abuse allegations that were revealed in the report, after being urged by Pope Francis to do so. Cardinal Donald Wuerl was the archbishop of Washington and has now become a member of the highest office in the Church to resign over abuse allegations. In 2002 too, screening boards were created after the Boston investigation. The Church saw the creation of the Clergy Misconduct Oversight Board, and the implementation of conferences centered around addressing sexual abuse within the Church.

So yes, the Church is addressing its own sexual culture and the consequences of said nature with renewed passion that hasn’t been seen before, however it is important to note that these large acts of reform happen only after scathing reports on the Church are released. Without intervention would the Church address its own issues with sexual abuse?

What is even more worrisome about the Church and its reform is the fervent opposition to comprehensive changes in Church doctrine about sexuality and celibacy. It seems highly unlikely that widespread changes to the Catholic laws around celibacy and sexuality would be implemented by Pope Francis, ones that would actually look to the root causes of such high levels of abuse. And even if he did push for such changes, how would they be met by Catholics around the globe?

Catholics have been told that to be a homosexual is to be a sinner. To be sexually active outside of marriage is deviant. Masturbation is a sin. All these and more contribute to a culture that forces sexuality into the dark, away from view. The clergy preaches these messages with fervency, yet simultaneously keeps allegations of sexual abuse hidden. Not only are these abusers not practicing what they preach, they are also leaving a trail of pain and devastation in their wake.

To allow the Church to hold itself accountable is thus very dangerous for victims and for Catholics in vulnerable positions, namely children. When the Church confronts the root causes of its history with sexual deviancy, only then will I consider returning to the faith.

When accusations of sexual abuse are seen being handed over to state prosecutors instead of remaining in confidential Church documents, I will be more inclined to Catholic teaching. If the Pope begins to address the hypocrisies of celibacy within clergy circles, I will begin to look at the Church as a beacon of hope.

This is not an issue specific to religion, but an issue that affects thousands of children and adults across the country. There must be a renewed sense of transparency for their sake. Until then, the Church and its officials must be held accountable by state and federal laws, just as every other institution supposedly is.

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Jerad T Bryant
ENGL 445

Graphic artist in love with plants and poetry, writing of the things I love and the things I’d like to know more about.