One of my worst moments as a practicing Catholic took place within the confines of the confessional where a visiting priest insisted that I, then a student, explain at length the details of my mortal sin.
A handful of my classmates stood on line as well every Saturday afternoon to confess this very same sin, I’ll bet, as we all suffered from the same malady of ripening hormones.
For 30 years I avoided this sacrament largely due to this anonymous priest’s injurious inquiries. Imagine this man empowered by his ordination feeding on the swell of adolescent impurities to solder his sordid imagination, and to what end?
I applaud Bruce Andriatch’s commentary regarding the Catholic Church’s complicit stance by retaining sick clergy on their roster, thereby providing more food for their depravity. However, I feel attempting to make realistic changes will take so much more than burning the collection basket.
Andriatch says “it has been a year since I have put any money in a weekly collection.” I don’t feel that financial abstinence will make one bit of difference. In fact, it may even exacerbate proliferating church problems.
I also will continue to attend Mass because I truly perceive heaven as my ultimate goal and I fear the abandonment of Christ in my life and afterlife.
Perhaps Bishop Richard Malone should give this a long thought as well.