UNITED STATES
National Catholic Register
Celeste Behe
I recently reconnected with an old friend and fellow parishioner named Kate. Kate and I hadn’t seen each other in years, so after chancing to meet, we arranged to get together the following week to chat and catch up.
Over coffee, Kate told me why I hadn’t been seeing her at Mass.
“I am so mad at the Catholic Church,” she said bitterly. “What those priests did to those kids… I still can’t believe what went on. Now whenever I see a priest I’m reminded of the awful things that happened. What’s the point of going to Mass if all I do there is get upset?”
Flustered by Kate’s outburst, I had a hard time gathering my thoughts. But I did point out that the sexual abuse of children isn’t a bigger problem in the Catholic Church than it is elsewhere. And I reminded Kate that Mass isn’t about the priest or even the liturgy, but about the Eucharist.
Still, my reply was uncompelling at best. As Kate listened skeptically to my clumsy defense of the Church, I could practically hear her thinking, “Celeste, those poor abused kids could have been yours.
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