Collective plea for forgiveness by Pope could help heal wounds
THE 2011 visit by Britain’s Queen Elizabeth II has gone down in the history books as a triumph. Truth be told, the trip was historic even before she set foot on Irish soil suitably bedecked in emerald green.
The arrival of Pope Francis in less than four months’ time is also historic since it is only the second time in the 2,000-year history of the papacy that a Pope has visited Ireland. While there is clearly not the historic enmity between Rome and Dublin that has marked relations between Britain and Ireland down the centuries, recent decades have put a considerable strain on that relationship and many Irish people have felt betrayed by a Church they once revered.
How Pope Francis navigates that strain and addresses the appalling crimes of clerical sexual abuse will be crucial in whether or not these wounds can be healed and the Church can be reinvigorated.
For most people, the high point of the queen’s visit was the laying of the wreath and the gentle bow of the head at the Garden of Remembrance as she acknowledged those who fought to end British rule in Ireland. It was a huge gesture, but her apology at Dublin Castle for Britain’s misdeeds here was surely infinitely more important. I say apology – it was more an expression of regret than an apology per se.
Elizabeth noted that “with the benefit of historical hindsight we can all see things which we would wish had been done differently or not at all”. Nonetheless, it was enough for most people to draw a line in the sand and it was deemed by the media that the queen had gone far enough.
Rather than interview victims of British atrocities for their reaction, the microphones instead were turned on politicians and commentators who universally welcomed her remarks.
Pope Francis will have to tread carefully while in Ireland. And while he is personally popular, hostility towards the Church remains intense and he is unlikely to be given the benefit of the doubt in the media in the same way that the queen was.
Francis will certainly meet privately with survivors of clerical abuse while in Ireland. He has done so already and tomorrow he will meet with survivors from Chile in what is set to be a tense encounter. The Vatican has said that the Pope will seek forgiveness from the Chilean victims not just for the abuse they suffered, but also the cover-up by the Church and the appalling moment in January when Francis himself effectively called them liars (he later said he had been misinformed).
In Dublin, Francis will have to listen to the survivors of abuse as they recount their experiences – but he will also have to hear the often unreported detail of the spiritual devastation they have suffered.
Many of those abused have lost their faith – a faith they cherished that was taken from them by the crimes of their abuser and the indifference or scorn of Church authorities when they came forward. Many of those who were abused suffered precisely because their close relationship with the Church made them easy prey for predators. While some survivors want nothing at all to do with the Church, many will tell you that they acutely feel the absence of a once-cherished relationship. They’ll want to see if Francis can help them rebuild that.
BUT meeting victims is only one piece in the jigsaw. On a wider level, the Pope should speak to the wider sense of betrayal that is felt – for centuries, to have been Irish is to have been Catholic.
As Protestantism spread throughout Europe, the Reformation was an epic failure here and Catholicism survived centuries of persecution.
When emigrants left, often the only thing they carried with them was their faith and the shirt on their back.
That faith was worn with huge pride. It’s sobering to recall that in 2011 Pope Benedict XVI observed that the cover-up of abuse by priests and religious did more to obscure the light of the ‘Gospel’ than centuries of persecution.
Sometimes Catholics grumble that people hold the Church to a higher standard than, say for example, the HSE or sporting organisations when it comes to handling abuse.
That is, in a way, a compliment because it means that people still expect more of the Church – they recognise that because it preaches an uncompromising ‘Gospel’ it should be better.
The Pope will be lucky to have by his side in Ireland Archbishop Diarmuid Martin of Dublin. Dr Martin has excelled in his outreach to those who have suffered in Church-run institutions. He has also established himself as a humble face of the Church and a antidote to the excesses of the past.
Francis deserves a fair hearing in Ireland – for some, perhaps for many, whatever he says will not be enough to ease their pain and lighten their burdens. But, we should recognise in him a humble pastor trying to do his best to right the wrongs of the past.
A collective plea for forgiveness from the Pope would help heal the gaping wound in Irish society left by the Church’s failures.
If a few words in Dublin Castle can heal 800 years of bitterness, the Pope at the very least deserves the same goodwill afforded Queen Elizabeth.
Francis will also have to hear the often unreported detail of the spiritual devastation that survivors of abuse have suffered