I was in the airport last week, and in the course of my travels, I saw two priests, fully dressed in their clerics, and two nuns in full-length brown habits. There was no missing them, and I have to say I was a bit surprised. That was a pretty brave move there, don't you think? I can imagine they got plenty of looks, and maybe even a few comments, and hopefully a couple conversations. I hope they were ready.
I think it's something to consider. I am so sad for my Church. I am heartsick for the people affected by the abuse that was so rampant and implicitly approved. Yet, as I wear my faith on my sleeve or around my neck with the cross I wear, I give people an opportunity to express their anger, frustration, and pain. Then, I can give them the hope and perspective that this is not all there is to the Church. I can tell them that there are myriads of incredible people who take their faith seriously and are trying really hard to live holy and loving lives. I can tell them that there are many of us on the inside who are demanding change and a rebuilding on more solid ground. I can give them hope that this light is so much better for the victims than the dark and repression that surrounded them before all of this.
This is some of my part of the fight. I am called to give comfort and hope, encouragement and light. I am not called to take a case to court or to research the many claims that are rampant right now and need some serious investigating. Each of us has our part in this if we are willing to accept it. Called to protest? Volunteer your services to victims? Send a letter? Support a priest who is on the receiving end of undeserved hateful stares?
Find it. Pray about it. Do it. Don't be afraid. The only way through this is to go through it.