Guest Post: Miss Kaitlyn Long

[printed here with the permission of the author]

May 11th, 2020

 

To his Excellency Archbishop Lori of the Archdiocese of Baltimore,  his Excellency Archbishop Christophe Pierre, Apostolic Nuncio of the United States, and to anyone whom it may concern, 

 

I am a 22-year-old parishioner at Saint Francis of Assisi parish in Rocky Mount, Virginia, who was joyfully brought into full communion with the Catholic Church when I was 14 years old, on Easter Vigil in 2012. Father Mark White was the primary pastor of my church and my primary spiritual father in the majority of my formative years as a new Catholic.

In light of the recent suspension of Father Mark White from public ministry and Bishop Barry Knestout’s attempt to lock Father Mark White out of his residence (despite Can. 1333 §3.2 explicitly stating that prohibition from public ministry “never” affects the right of residence), I am deeply concerned about the abuse of power and disregard of Canon law that Bishop Barry Knestout has exhibited.

Basilica of the Assumption, Baltimore

I want to express this concern to those who have authority over Bishop Knestout.

Since the Diocese announced Fr. Mark’s “effective-immediately” relocation to prison ministry during the week following Easter–which under Canon Law cannot be carried out until the case is finished being heard in Rome–Father Mark White’s public response has been nothing but gracious and respectful to both the institution of the Church, as well as to Bishop Barry Knestout himself.

Nothing has “escalated” in terms of Father Mark’s initial alleged “intemperance,” as cited by Bishop in the February 5th meeting between the two men. Instead, Father’s writings call for peace and a turn to the Lord, saying “I want only good communication, compromise, peace, and a return to some semblance of our normal parish life here. This is what I hope and pray for,” and “Let’s cling to the Lord Jesus. He came into the world as light, to dispel the darkness. He came to save the sinful world. He will lead us to better days, one little step at a time.”

There has been, however, an escalation in the passionate feelings of parishioners and the surrounding community towards Bishop Barry Knestout. This passion has been in direct response to the perceived insensitivity towards the feelings of the communities in Rocky Mount and Martinsville, and the literal disregard of canon law that Bishop Barry Knestout has demonstrated in the past few weeks.

Several of my fellow parishioners and myself perceive the suspension of Father Mark White, as well as the re-keying of both parish buildings, to be a “punishment” for the discontented passion demonstrated by parishioners at both parishes. Bishop Knestout cited his concern for “the ecclesiastical communion of the faithful at the parishes of St. Joseph in Martinsville and Saint Francis of Assisi in Rocky Mount.” But love, and criticism of someone’s–even church leaders’–actions, are not mutually exclusive.

First, let me explain the hurt I have felt because of the actions of church leaders regarding the church abuse scandal. I am a teacher, and I will use an analogy to explain my uneasiness.

When a student cheats on their work twice, I am more likely to check their work going forward.  If I asked the student if I could see their work and the student started freaking out, refusing to let me see, I would become even more suspicious.

This is an analogy for what, in my personal experience, many of the average church laypeople are seeing from the outside. Did that kid, the church, cheat on their test? I do not know because they did not let me see their paper. However, one thing is for sure, I really do not trust that kid because–Guess what? He cheated twice already. Twice.

Faithful Catholics, and the world, are not predisposed to trust the bishops’ handling of the abuse scandal. Pretending that any amount of reparation money distributed, or Virtus programs installed, makes up for the loss of that trust is a delusion. It is a delusion not because those programs are bad, but because they do not deal with the core of why we have a trust issue with our church leadership.

To imply that parishioners, such as myself, are discontented solely by the writings of Father Mark White is offensive. Many faithful Catholics know how to read. Claiming the writings of Father Mark White have caused more division and feelings of discontent/disunity than the actions of church leaders themselves is arrogant and dismissive of the very real hurt that many faithful Catholics have experienced.

In high school, someone once asked me “why would you want to go to a church that protects a bunch of child abusers?” As a 16-year-old new catholic, it hurt to be asked that. Especially because at the time I did not have an answer, and I felt ashamed that I could not defend the church that I love so much. I resolved to become a close follower of church news regarding the crisis. 

Is it bad that more people have become educated about the scandal as a result of Father Mark White’s writings?

I would say, historically speaking, wanting to limit the access of knowledge to the masses is the desire of a draconian dictator or a communist leader, not a well-intentioned, humble shepherd. Soviet Russia existed under a “complete blockade on information” when it came to what books were available to citizens. This blockade was enacted through “arbitrary” vague laws that were often enforced “in secret and anonymously,” as V.D. Stelmakh puts it in Reading in the Context of Censorship in the Soviet Union.

The communist People’s Republic of China often uses algorithms to censor their citizens’ internet access.

Why? Because these regimes have feared criticism. Feared the power of knowledge. Feared the truth.

As a convert to the Catholic faith, the reason why I am never afraid to research the philosophies and doctrines of my protestant brothers and sisters, or other religions, is that I am not afraid of what I will find. My only concern is where the truth will lead me. Censorship leads many to ask a logical question: what truth are you afraid of? If Father Mark White’s blog writings were the foolish ramblings of a lunatic, they would be no more threatening to the Catholic church than the “Birds Aren’t Real” movement would be to the United States Government.

The discord and distrust already existed. And it was going to be there, at least in my heart, whether Father Mark wrote or not. It was there as a result of the way church leaders responded to the sexual abuse crisis in 2002, and then again with Theodore McCarrick. 

I first learned of the fallout with once-esteemed Theodore McCarrick when one of my non-catholic friends asked me if I had heard what was going on. On the inside, all I could think was “this again?” It gave me painful flashbacks to high school, when people would ask me why I went to a child-abuser church. It hurt.

Still, even in that hurt, I knew I still wanted to be Catholic. I chose Catholicism for myself. I went on an (at times painful) journey that pursued Christ’s truth, and it led me here. To this Church. My life has continually led me to this Church.

As I read more about what was going on with McCarrick, however, I am ashamed to admit that I felt some degree of embarrassment for being Catholic. I was embarrassed by this Church, Christ’s Church, that has healed me in so many ways I can never repay it. For that I am sorry. I let my Church down. I did not want people to ask me about it anymore, because I did not have a good answer. To some degree I wanted others to forget I was Catholic.

When I read Father Mark’s blog posts, firstly, the post entitled “Open Letter to Theodore McCarrick,” I felt like there was someone else who felt the same things as me. That someone else felt this pain. That it was okay to feel those things too.

Later, I read one of the posts that Bishop Barry Knestout claims is disunifying, “Pope Francis a Heretic?” The ending paragraph of that post really stuck with me. “We march on, loving the Church, loving the papacy, and loving the episcopal office, too. But not lying to ourselves. Not drinking the Kool-Aid about how the current incumbents actually know what they are doing. They do not.”

When I read that paragraph, I felt like I was not crazy for wanting to be Catholic still. I felt much more unified to the Catholic Church, reading these critical yet loving posts on Father Mark White’s blog, than I ever did reading any of the sanitized statements released by higher church authority.

When my non-catholic friends asked me about the scandal, I felt like I had something I could show them that did not make me feel embarrassed, and even made me feel proud of being Catholic. I had several friends make comments to me like “wow, he is that angry and hurt, and he still loves that Church.”

To see someone questioning the church, not because they hate it, but because they love it, is powerful. Criticism and love are not mutually exclusive. 

Next, I would like to address some comments made during the Bishop’s Homily at Saint Francis of Assisi Church on April 18th, 2020. During his homily, Bishop Knestout spoke about communion and a communal life, meaning that “we who believe are together and have things in common.” He also said that we can “argue a policy is better one way or another” implying his recent correspondence with Father Mark is no different than arguing about how the church should organize their parish council.

Dismissing the response of church leaders as a superficial disagreement on church procedures or policy is insensitive to the hurt and distrust people feel, and not in the best taste. To claim that a Priest has to speak solely of what will placate or not upset his parishioners to achieve this “unity” or “communion” is not the Catholic way, or the way of Christ.

The Catholic church has a strong, often culturally unwelcome stance on many divisive topics such as abortion. The Priest is not doing a disservice to the public or his parish by speaking the truth of these issues, even if some of his parishioners get mad and leave. Instead, I would argue he would be doing a disservice to those he pastors if he were not speaking the truth. The Lord says “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea” (Matt. 18:6).

Someone could argue that the sex abuse crisis is not about what “is a sin or is not a sin” in the same way teaching about abortion is. I would agree. However, this discussion, at its core, is about truth. When the Lord was teaching about the Eucharist many of his disciples gathered there said: “This saying is hard; who can accept it?” Did the Lord shy away from the teaching because he was afraid people would leave? No. He said “Does this shock you?” and continued to hold his own, even when many left him as a result of that truth (John 6:60-61).

The Lord is not afraid of someone seeking the truth. He is the way, the truth, and the life, so why should he be afraid of it? (John 14: 6).

It is not necessarily wrong or “destructive” for a Priest to speak on topics that some may feel discontent about. Actually, there is precedence that taking a strong, possibly divisive stance is, historically, the Catholic way, as well as the way of Christ himself. The difference is, in this matter, questioning the actions of church leaders may hit too close to home for Bishop Knestout and other church leaders.

The second point I would like to address from Bishop Knestout’s homily is the part about apostolic succession. Yes, Bishop Knestout is indeed the Bishop, the pastor of the Diocese of Richmond, as well as the successor of the apostles as Bishop. However, being an apostolic successor does not make the Bishop immune to corruption. Being an apostle did not make the apostles immune to corruption.

Take Peter, the first Pope of our church. Peter, who denied Jesus three times (Matt. 26: 69-75).

Also, the most glaring example of all, Judas Iscariot. Judas, one of twelve men Jesus Christ himself personally chose to walk with him during his public ministry. Judas, whose actions directly put into motion the events that led to the arrest and crucifixion of our Lord (Matthew 26: 48-50).

Jesus himself picked Judas out as an apostle and Judas was not immune. Being an apostolic successor does not make the human man immune from corruption.

In fact, according to an article about the history of Papal saints, about only 30% of all the Popes in church history have become saints. Being an apostolic successor does not grant one automatic holiness.

A modern example of this potential corruption is Theodore McCarrick himself. Theodore McCarrick was a bishop. He too claimed apostolic succession and made decisions for a diocese under the guise of pastoral care.

It is not Bishop Knestout’s fault necessarily that the general layperson may not be predisposed to trust him. However, preaching on apostolic succession and implying someone who does not fully trust his decision-making is wrong–well, that could be interpreted as arrogant and insensitive to the pain experienced by those he shepherds.

As a newly converted Catholic, I was intrigued by Fr. Mark’s love and reverence for the Eucharist so much, it directly led to the development of my personal devotion to the Holy Eucharist. Father is the kind of priest who was not afraid of seeking justice for every single child of God (from every single cultural background) from the moment of their conception until their natural death, even if it meant criticism from others.

The example Father has given that no one should be afraid to speak the truth, even when they faced criticism, comforted me in times I found myself and my Catholic faith questioned. Father’s example helped me resolve that I should not be afraid to be unapologetically Catholic and steadfast in my beliefs of justice, even if the world hates me because of it. That I should not be afraid of the truth.

Fr. Mark shepherds the young adults and children by being part of our lives. He has had an active presence in our youth group, guided us on youth group pilgrimages up and down the east coast, and was intentional about spending time with every single religious-ed class. He humbled himself enough to make himself part of our lives.

Thank you for your time,

Kaitlyn A. Long