The Priest at my childhood parish was publicly defrocked recently and, I have to be honest, I’m struggling with it. I always considered him a holy man, rich in mercy and kindness. A few years back, he was accused of having a relationship with a woman and, while it caused a lot of uproar, I never really registered it as I was in the throws of living my own life as a new father and busy teacher. 

Then, the accusations became confirmed. Worse yet, the woman was a minor when it all started. 

My first reaction was shock. How could nobody have noticed? And for so many years? How blind was I as a young adult to not realize the secrets that swam in the parish I spent so much time in?

After the initial shock, anger set in. How could he? What kind of holy man abuses a minor? It’s scandals like this (and all of the others that have come to light in the last decade) that makes it difficult for me to even attempt evangelization. After all, who’s going to convert to the religion of “child molesters”?

Then, mercy sunk in. The standard by which Priests are judged is justly higher than that of the lay man/woman. St. James himself wrote “My brothers and sisters, not many of you should become teachers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly” (James 3:1). Whenever someone is called to teach the faith, and more importantly to live it in the state of Holy Orders, of course God will scrutinize their deeds more closely. 

That’s when I went retrospective. What about me? Why don’t I get half as angry with my own sins? How come I’m more upset with Fr. Defrocked than I am with my own imperfections?

This is the difficulty we have as Catholics in today’s world: We are evangelizing with a handicap. 

We are at a disadvantage when we attempt to spread the Gospel because we aren’t 100% able to live it. We’re chained to our vices, some with iron less breakable than others. We serve one Master who only has a plan A- to love. We also serve another master for which we most of our time, money and energy devising, carrying out, and experiencing the effects of a plan B- to love ourselves.

Yet, even in our imperfect human condition, we are still charged by Master A (God, if I wasn’t clear),  to carry His love to the ends of the earth. Regardless of the darkness that overshadows our intent, or the malevolent reputation we have inherited by our leaders, we are still justified by Christ in our efforts. We are still conduits of mercy in our brokenness. We are still capable of choosing to love.