Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time

“Do you also want to leave?” Jn 6: 68

Many years ago, when I was a student seeking a graduate degree in Psychology, I was honored to take a course taught by Victor Frankl, a Jewish Austrian psychiatrist who endured many of the horrors of the holocaust. Both Frankl and his wife were victims of the ghastly concentration camps that Hitler invented.

Frankl survived. His wife didn’t.

Frankl went on to achieve world renown with his book, Man’s Search For Meaning, in which he presented his own unique approach to psychological healing. In his book, Frankl outlined his belief that human beings are primarily driven by a “striving to find meaning in one’s life.”

Most importantly, Frankl stressed his conviction that it is their sense of meaning that enables people to overcome painful, even life-threatening experiences. After enduring all the deprivations and horrific tortures of these extraordinarily brutal camps, Frankl became convinced that “even in the most absurd, painful, dehumanizing situations, life has potential meaning and that, therefore, even suffering is meaningful.”

One of Frankl’s famous sayings is: “What is to give light, must endure burning.”

Perhaps he came to this conclusion at his darkest hour when thinking of his wife who had died at the hands of Nazi brutality, his mind clung to her image. Because of the constancy of that loving image, Frankl tells us:

“A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life, I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets – the truth that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which Man can aspire. Then I finally grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought have to impart: the salvation of Man is through love and in love … a man who has nothing left in the world still may know bliss … in the contemplation of his beloved.”

Jesus believed the same thing: our salvation is through love and in love.

As did the author of the Gospel of John when he told us that God “so loved the world….”

And in today’s Gospel reading, Jesus makes it clear that he knew his teachings were difficult and challenging: love your enemies; do good to those who hate you and persecute you; feed the hungry; forgive 70 times 7; wash the feet of the poor and the homeless; be compassionate as your heavenly Father is compassionate; take up your cross and follow me; repent and become transformed; become a “new creation.”

Really tough stuff!!

That’s the whole point, actually, to the famous desert temptation scene where Satan lures Jesus with those same enticements that we all have; pride and power and possessions. “All this can be yours …,” Satan promised Jesus, and promises each of us too. Daily.

No one knew better than Jesus of Nazareth that rejecting those alluring promises would require great sacrifice, even to the point of torture and the death of his body.  For us, it also involves a death – the death of our constantly demanding and never-satisfied ego.

But, as if those challenging teachings weren’t enough, in today’s gospel Jesus adds a whole other dimension to his faith challenge:

Believe that this bread is my body; believe that this wine is my blood. And, not only “believe” it, but “take and eat; take and drink.”

It’s at this point that today’s gospel tells us: “many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.”

And, as you read on, you can almost hear the sadness and disappointment in Jesus’ voice as he turns to the Twelve and asks: “Do you also want to leave?”

Certainly Victor Frankl was in effect asked that same question each and every day of his concentration camp existence – as were all the others forced into those utterly degrading experiences. But, a voice within him somehow understood that “What is to give light, must endure burning.”

Frankl’s answer to Jesus’ question is a decisive “no.” He’s not leaving.

“Do you also want to leave?” Jesus then asks each of us. “Do you also want to choose another path, a less demanding one, a less painful one?”

These questions represent the temptations that all of us are presented with daily in our lives.

Frankl was among those who clearly – even in the darkest and bleakest of circumstances – insisted that he would not join those who wanted to leave. He was not willing to give up. Instead, the darker it got, the more he seemed to see that the way of love, the way of ego-abandonment, the way of self-donation was the path to true bliss and happiness.

Somehow Frankl understood what Jesus was talking about all the way through his gospel message:

The cross – the cross that kills our ego demands – is the same cross that also creates room for the Spirit, the Spirit that then leads us to a much fuller and more complete experience of life. In fact, Jesus calls it “eternal life.”

Frankl got it. “The salvation of Man is through love and in love.”

Now the question is posed to each of us:

“Do you also want to leave?”

Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.

NOTE: As a Catholic priest who resigned active ministry, I am particularly appalled by the recent revelations concerning child abuse perpetrated by priests and bishops, and the coverup that has been maintained for so many years. Consequently, I invite you to read my following personal reaction to this horrifying reality.

How Could This Have Happened?

How could it be, as David Von Drehle, asks in a column in the Washington Post, that a Church whose “good works are monumental,” a Church that has “built more schools, colleges, universities, hospitals, orphanages and clinics” than any other agency … how could it be that this same Church would be guilty, as described in the voluminous report by the Pennsylvania grand jury, of the massive and multitudinous coverups of sexual assaults by priests and bishops?

How could it be that a Church that “has inspired and endowed more masterpieces of music, art, architecture and literature” be so completely tone deaf and resistant to the horror of child abuse, sadism, and sexual assaults by its priests and bishops?

How could it be that the most sprawling probe of its kind for the American church – equaled only by similar State inquiries in Ireland and Australia – produced an 884-page Pennsylvania grand jury report that identifies some “300 accused clerics across six dioceses and 1,000 victim survivors found through testimonies and seven decades worth of subpoenaed personal files and other records?”

How could it be that just days before this astounding announcement, the watershed resignation of Archbishop Theodore McCarrick as a member of the College of Cardinals is made public?

How could this have happened?

In May 1967, I was ordained a Catholic priest. One month later, I arrived at my first assignment: a large parish in a relatively small town in the Midwest.

I can still remember how excited and thrilled I was to finally be able to do the priestly ministry I had dreamed of for so long. But, soon after I began my work in that parish, a very sad and tragic piece of information popped the bubble of my enthusiasm.

In a discussion with one of the other priests in the parish, he told me something  dark and very disturbing. It seems that I had been sent to that parish for the purpose of replacing a priest who was involved in an issue I had never heard of before, an issue I never dreamed possible in the Church that I knew and loved.

According to what I was told, the father of a high school student had approached the pastor of this same parish and, in a rage, informed him that if they didn’t get rid of this particular priest, the dad was going to the sheriff. The priest, he claimed, was sexually abusing his son, and others.

This was shocking enough. But the attitude of the pastor and of the bishop was even more troubling to me. The priest abuser was simply sent to another parish!

This bothered me to the point that I approached the pastor and asked him about my concern. First, I asked if what I heard about all this was true. He assured me that it was. I then asked if it was also true that they had sent this priest on to another parish. He told me that the diocese had.

I can remember being angry and puzzled by that response. So, I asked, “How does that help this situation? He’ll just do the same thing there.”

I will never forget the pastor’s response: “Well, at least we got him out of our hair. I don’t care what happens to him someplace else. Let them deal with him.”

That priest who was moved to another parish went on to abuse scores of young boys. He was finally removed from active ministry in the early 1990’s – some 25 years later. What has happened to that multitude of boys as a result can only be imagined. Adding to the tragedy is the knowledge that it could have been stopped. But it wasn’t.

Better than 50 years later, our same Church continues to be immersed in the shame of cover up, secrecy, legal deceptions, and outright lies to prevent this ugly and horrifying reality from becoming known.

But, despite all the efforts on the part of the leadership of this Church to cover it up and distract attention away from its inherent horrors, “the scandal has spread around the world – the victims finding their voices in many languages and dozens of countries, from Australia to Chile, Ireland to Tanzania …. The conclusion has become inescapable: This great church, so charitable in so many ways, has been morally blind.”

How could this have happened?

In my opinion, and that of many others, the answer to this penetrating question involves a multitude of reasons, including issues surrounding ineffectual priestly formation, lack of discernment concerning psychosexual development, lack of women in the power structure of the Church, the insularity of clericalism, and, perhaps most importantly, the underlying insistence on the innate superiority of priests and bishops that has too often become a shield protecting ordained ministers from any questioning by the laity.

What has too often been emphasized in priestly formation is the conviction that priests, by virtue of their ordination, are qualitatively different from ordinary people in that they possess powers unattainable to the common person. Only they can consecrate. Only they can forgive sin. Only they can be perceived to be truly “holy.” As a consequence, priests and bishops are not to be questioned. Instead, they are to be granted special treatment – treatment reserved only for those deemed to be extra-ordinary human beings.

The problem with this insistence is that it is too easy for priests and bishops to begin to believe that they really are special, unique, unusual – and deserve to be treated as such. As a bishop said to me, “The number one problem in the priesthood is narcissism” – a personality disorder involving the conviction that one is deserving of special treatment because they possess an inflated sense of self-importance.

How could this have happened?

It happened because priests and bishops misused power. It happened because priests and bishops came to believe that because of their particular calling and anointing they deserved to be treated as unique and therefore deserving of special attention and admiration, and, most importantly, should be trusted in all matters. And they successfully taught the laity to treat them accordingly. Until now.

The good news is that the Church is beginning – however slowly – to name these inner demons and address them as never before. As an example of this, the Association of U.S. Catholic priests has just issued a “Statement in Response to Our Hurting Church.”

In it, they state boldly:

“We are sad. We are angry. We are frustrated …. The news from Pennsylvania brings on us another wave of shame as we acknowledge that even greater pain has been inflicted on children and families and on all the faithful by our brothers in the priesthood and hierarchy …. At every level our church is in pain.”

These priests then offer the following appeals to the Church at large:

• “Those responsible for these scandals within this Church that we love must, individually and corporately, publicly apologize and ask forgiveness for what they have done and what they have failed to do.”
• “The seminary process which has formed Catholic clergy for centuries must be fundamentally reformed to make it effective and adequate for our times …. Preparation for the priesthood must include faithfulness to Vatican II, a call to a life of service to God and God’s people, formation in pastoral settings among the people whom candidates will serve, and authentic human psychosexual development.”
• “We deem it especially important, indeed essential, that women be involved in the formation and decisive discernment of candidates for priesthood and integrated at every level, from top to bottom in the power structure of the Church.”

More radically, it is now being stated by the National Catholic Reporter that “More than 140 theologians, educators and lay leaders have called for all U.S. bishops to submit their resignations to Pope Francis, much like Chile’s 34 bishops did in May after revelations of sexual abuse and corruption, as a public act of penance and a ‘willing abdication of earthly status.’”

Perhaps most helpful is the reaction to the watershed resignation of Archbishop Theodore McCarrick as a member of the College of Cardinals which happened just a few days before the grand jury report. Almost immediately following this stunning announcement, Cardinal Daniel DiNardo of Galveston-Houston, made a major statement naming the report’s disclosure to be proof that “a grievous moral failure has taken place with the Church.”

Cardinal DiNardo, the President of US Catholic Bishop’s Conference, then asked his own series of questions:

“Why weren’t these allegations of sins against chastity and human dignity disclosed when they were first brought to Church officials?”

“Why wasn’t this egregious situation addressed decades sooner and with justice?”

Perhaps most importantly, the Pope himself has written a Letter of His Holiness Pope Francis To the People of God.

In it, he begins with this quote from St. Paul: “If one member suffers, all suffer together” (I Cor. 12:26).

He then tells us that “I acknowledge once more the suffering endured by many minors due to sexual abuse, the abuse of power, and the abuse of conscience perpetrated by a significant number of clerics and consecrated persons …. Looking back to the past, no effort to beg pardon and to seek to repair the harm done will never be sufficient.”

“Looking ahead to the future, no effort must be spared to create a culture able to prevent such situations from happening, but also to prevent the possibility of their being covered up and perpetuated.”

Pope Francis concludes his lengthy and passionate missive with these words:

“May the Holy Spirit grant us the grace of conversion and the interior anointing needed to express before these crimes of abuse our compunction and our resolve courageously to combat them.”

Slowly, but with seeming resolve, the question “How could this have happened?” is beginning to be replaced by another:

“Will the response of church leaders continue to serve their own interests, or, at long last, serve His?”

Ted Wolgamot

Note: I also highly recommend an illuminating article published in the The New Yorker by James Carroll, entitled: “After Pennsylvania, What Pope Francis Should Say In Ireland.” It can be found on my website drtedsweb.com.