Eucharistic Processions

And the Emperor with no Clothes

Two years ago, I was on the receiving end of my former pastor and boss abusing his power in some really public and ugly ways. The betrayal was like a bomb went off in my parish and my relationship with the Church.

There were times last year where I really struggled to go to Mass. The new pastor was fine. But it felt like there was this huge crater in the middle of my church and everyone in the community, including the new pastor, was just walking around it. Me going to Mass felt like a participation in this group pretending, and it made me angry.

At the time, I shared this with a friend who said, "God is angry at that too. You don't need to 'fix' your anger in order to participate at Mass. Your anger here is participation in Mass."

That felt true.

This conversation came to mind this week as I saw some of the negative reactions to the big national Eucharistic processions going on…

Clerical abuse and—maybe more betraying—ongoing coverup has felt like a seemingly unending series of betrayal bombs. The moral injury from which has hardly been acknowledged, let alone repented of and atoned for. Instead, Church leaders regularly blame the outside culture as what's driving people away from Mass instead of examining their own culpability.

But here we are, celebrating Catholicism with big public Eucharistic processions and national conferences. And it feels like we're collectively choosing to ignore and walk around the giant crater in the middle of our Church. A collective pretending that there's nothing deeply ugly and wrong here.

For those who see the crater—who were hit by the bomb or experienced the fallout firsthand—this collective ignorance can feel maddening. It’s like the fable of the child who sees that the emperor has no clothes, but all of the adults in the room are acting like nothing is wrong. It has you questioning your own ability to know what’s real and true.

Worse, celebrating these things can feel like active participation, like being complicate in this communal pretending that everything is fine.

For those who are in that boat, who are experiencing that confusion and anger, God is angry at this betrayal too. And that anger can itself be a kind of worship.

For those who are experiencing real grace in the processions and celebrations, that’s awesome. But please don't view your angry brothers and sisters as hostile, but as hurting. And try to see their anger as a prophetic naming of what’s truth, as a refusing to walk around the crater pretending that everything is fine.