The Ugly Church I Love

I love the Church. 

I have always loved the Church; yet, sometimes trying to live that out in such an imperfect world can feel so incredibly heavy.  The weight that can be felt upon the shoulders can sometimes feel unbearable.  When we hear the latest news of the moral failings of a clergyman, it deals another blow to the stomach and adds another cinderblock’s worth of weight that now must be dragged into every conversation as well-meaning people (and some not so well-meaning people) have become shaped by the expectation that wearing a collar is not so much a sign of closeness to God, but a scarlet letter signifying what a threat you are to the community.  

It can be so hard to be looked at with such suspicion because of the sins of others, but even in the midst of this pain, I still love the Church. 

I recognize that there are a great number of people who have been so hurt (directly or indirectly) by the negligence, face-saving actions, or cold indifference of those entrusted with the title “Father.”  At this point, it is hard for me to find someone who has not been deeply affected by the actions of someone meant to give pastoral care, including myself.  

In response to this pain, we can see a variety of responses from those still in the Church as well as those who have left her behind.  Some may simply feel numb or indifferent as disappointment after disappointment continues to surface in the news - discovering that mistakes and evils we thought took place long ago are still happening and, in some cases, even flourishing.  Others, in response to the evils in the Church, take on a weird inauthentic triumphalism that results in a kind of denial of all that is wrong in the Church - quickly making excuses or comparing ourselves to secular institutions, somehow convinced that an institution founded by God should be held in comparison to those founded by men.  Still others, in the midst of their pain, turn to a bitter cynicism that breeds only antagonism towards those entrusted with leading the Church.  Here, pain can turn into pride as the wounded heart believes the only person that can be trusted is themselves - a new pope and magisterium has been formed within this hurt person, making them the measure of all that is True.  

While it’s true that some may use the great sins of leaders of the Church as an opportunity to justify their own bad moral choices, I believe that it is still important to give a space for those voicing valid concerns about the wicked behavior found in the Church.  Truth is truth, no matter where it is found, and someone that has distorted themself through their own sin can still have the clarity of mind to see and call out hypocrisy, corruption, and negligence where it may be found.  

In the midst of all of this wickedness, how can I say that I love the Church? In short, because I love Jesus.  Because I love Jesus, this means that I trust him.  I trust that he is the Son of God and that, when he speaks, he wants to communicate the desires of his Father (see John 12:49). One of these desires was to everyone together all who believe in Christ into a Church (Lumen Gentium 2).  The Church is an essential part of God’s saving plan.  St. Clement of Alexandria tells us, “Just as God's will is creation and is called ‘the world,’ so his intention is the salvation of men, and it is called ‘the Church’ (Pæd. 1,6,27:PG 8,281.). The Catechism even tells us, “Christians of the first centuries said, ‘The world was created for the sake of the Church.’” (CCC 760).  This is such a bold and beautiful claim.  So that each of us could truly be in union with God, He gave us the Church.  The Church is a revelation of the very heart of God the Father. He wants us to be in union with Him and He gives us what is necessary for that to happen. I love the Church because it is an expression of our loving heavenly Father’s heart.  

I also love the Church because She is the Bride of Christ.  When we read Song of Songs and hear the passionate language that can be used to describe the relationship between Christ and his Church, it is no wonder that he gave his life up for her.  In his letter to the Ephesians, St. Paul tells us:

Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her,  that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.  For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church,  because we are members of his body. “Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.”  This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.  (Ephesians 5: 25-32)

Christ loves his Bride, he loves his own body, the Church.  When facing her persecutors, St. Joan of Arc said, "About Jesus Christ and the Church, I simply know they're just one thing, and we shouldn't complicate the matter" (CCC 795).  If we love Jesus, then we are called to love his Body, the Church.   This can be so challenging when faced with a repetition of evils. What am I supposed to do in the midst of the deafening accusations lobbed against the Church I love? Resorting to numbness or indifference seems ineffective.  Denying the problems or having a weird inauthentic overconfidence seems like it could not only be offensive to those genuinely hurt by the Church, but also creates an unrealistic expectation for those trying to carry out reforms in different areas affected by human corruption and negligence.  Bitter cynicism also seems to do more harm to myself than to those charged with the pastoral care of souls.  

When I feel myself tempted by responding with numbness, inauthentic overconfidence, or cynicism, I have found it helpful to reflect on the body of Christ as found in the Gospels.  At times, we see him proclaiming the Beatitudes or touching those in need of healing - the body has strength.  We also see him dying on the cross - the body is weak.  We see him laid in the tomb - the body is dead. 

 I think that it can be easy in the midst of so many evils in the Church to only see the corpse of Christ being placed in the tomb.  We can be overcome by the grief of the Church we once knew - it can seem like a memory.  Now all we come to expect is decay and corruption.  Our feet may feel cemented to the ground near the tomb as it seems impossible to reconcile the life we once received from the Church with the unfeeling stone that now prevents us from seeing, feeling, and knowing the love of Jesus. 

If the stone feels too big - if it feels like too much of an obstacle - remember that the women coming to anoint the the body of Jesus were worried about the same thing:

When the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. And they were saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?” And looking up, they saw that the stone had been rolled back—it was very large. (Mark 16:1-4)

The large stone that they thought would keep them from Jesus was already moved.  Sometimes it can feel like the large stone of all the sins and evils in the Church is just too big for us to move - and in reality it is.  Humans will always be drawn towards sin, but we have a choice in how we respond to that sin. 

The mistakes of a few can feel so overwhelmingly large, but we can always choose how we will respond in the face of these evils. If we want to respond in a way that will not only help our own hearts, but also bring healing to those stuck in the numbness of grief or denial or bitterness, then we must act in humility. This humility is grounded in full knowledge of God’s mercy. 

I think that the perfect example of living in this received mercy is the imperfect first leader of our Church, Peter.  After the healing of the man crippled from birth and in response to those who gathered around to see what happened, Peter says: 

“You children of Israel, why are you amazed at this,

and why do you look so intently at us

as if we had made him walk by our own power or piety?

The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob,

the God of our fathers, has glorified his servant Jesus

whom you handed over and denied in Pilate’s presence,

when he had decided to release him.

You denied the Holy and Righteous One

and asked that a murderer be released to you.

The author of life you put to death,

but God raised him from the dead; of this we are witnesses.

And by faith in his name,

this man, whom you see and know, his name has made strong,

and the faith that comes through it

has given him this perfect health,

in the presence of all of you.

Now I know, brothers and sisters,

that you acted out of ignorance, just as your leaders did;

but God has thus brought to fulfillment

what he had announced beforehand

through the mouth of all the prophets,

that his Christ would suffer.

Repent, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be wiped away,

and that the Lord may grant you times of refreshment

and send you the Christ already appointed for you, Jesus…”

I emphasized the word denied in this passage because it is a word so closely tied to Peter’s own experience.  Upon hearing this proclamation, someone who knew Peter’s past may say, “Peter, I know you - you denied Jesus three times. Who are you to criticize us for the same thing?”

Yes - Peter denied Jesus and this is exactly why he has the moral authority and ability to call out those who hear him now.  Peter denied Jesus, but he was forgiven - he received mercy.  Peter so intimately knew his own weaknesses and how the mercy of God transformed and healed him, and because of this, he is able to call others to that same transformative love.  He recognizes how his own life was radically changed by the forgiveness he received from Jesus and he wants others to share in that same mercy.  Peter illuminating the denial of Jesus from those he is speaking to is not hypocrisy - it is proof of a life changed by love.  

This same model can be applied to the circumstances we find ourselves in today.  Only when we can truly go before our Lord and repent of our sins can we find the healing we need.  Not only will we find the healing, but we will also be commissioned as witnesses to the power of our merciful God who yearns to be in union with His children.   The Church has had great examples of publicly seeking forgiveness for our mistakes - admitting to the world that we need the mercy of God and recognize the ways that we have failed those in our pastoral care.  Let us never stop asking our Father to forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.  

Yes - there is a reason to hope.  The stone has been rolled away and the tomb is empty.  While we will inevitably be let down by those we respect, I still can’t help but love this ugly Church...because I love Jesus… and I trust him.  I know that in the midst of all of my own weaknesses and the ugliness of my own sin, Jesus loves me.  He loves his bride - he suffers with her - he chooses the Church - even in the ugliness of sin - he chooses her.

Just like he chooses you.