Do you ever want to skip some parts of the “Lord’s Prayer”?
A priest friend of mine tells the story of these elderly Italian sisters, who have long gone on to their final reward. He said by the time he met them, these two sisters basically did two things in their lives: bicker; and pray the Rosary. But each time they got to the Our Father one of the sisters would become eerily silent. She eventually told him the reason: she didn’t want to say the words: forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. She wasn’t ready to say that. She told my priest buddy in no uncertain terms: “I skippa that part.”
I skippa that part. This weekend, because of what the Lord’s prayer asks of me, part of me wants to skip parts of it as well.
- Honestly, right now the first word, the word “Our” in Our Father is painful
- Also, I would rather have MORE than my daily bread
- And it’s hard to know what forgiving the trespasses of some priests and bishops means
Can’t I skippa those parts?
As most of you probably know, Friday, after an extensive, independent investigation, Archbishop Carlson published the list of the names of priests and deacons in this archdiocese with substantiated allegations of sexual abuse against a minor. Let me say a few things about this before I get back to the Lord’s Prayer.
For me, as for many, this list was/is hard to read, for many reasons. This list includes:
- two priests I served with in parish life.
- the name of a classmate from the seminary
- several of my childhood heroes in the priesthood.
- And it includes the name of the man who abused someone I love with all my heart – a member of my family.
Most likely we each have reactions in response to such awful behavior. Some are heartsick; others are furious. Some are tired of all the time spent on this; others are disheartened and discouraged. Some are grateful that this is all out in the open for the sake of the healing and purification we need; others are just deeply sad.
On behalf of our Archbishop and together with all of the other deacons and priests who are still in ministry here in our local church, the most important thing I want to say to you this day is this….particularly so, if until now you have not yet heard it: “I am so, so sorry.”
As a member of the clergy and the institutional church, I am sorry for the hurt and the suffering you have had to endure because of the crimes of my brother priests. I am sorry first and foremost for anyone who has been a victim of abuse, by the clergy or others. I am sorry for your family members who had to help you shoulder that burden, unacknowledged by the church all these years. And I am sorry for you, the faithful remnant, who have had to endure the painful unfolding of this scandal which buffeted your faith and brought doubt and pain where there should only be the power of Christ and his love. I am so, so sorry
Hopefully, you have received a special edition of the St. Louis Review, as well as an email from me on Friday. It contains further information and helpful resources. If you did not receive the email, you let me know and I will make sure we add you to the list. I have extra copies of my letter in the back of church. And know as we work through reactions to all of this, Fr. Johnson, Deacon Mark and I are committed to walking with you. Do not hesitate to reach out to us or to the Archdiocese for help in any way we can.
Back to the Lord’s Prayer and the two Italian sisters: Since the release of this list, the very first word of that prayer is a bit hard for me to say: the word, “OUR”. Part of me wants to skip that word: to act like the people named in that list were never a part of this church. How can I pray that word OUR? That word that means that each perpetrator; each victim; each victim’s family members; each angry parishioner; each scandalized sister and brother – that we belong to each other, not just in our wholeness but in the sad, tragic, brokenness of these days. How hard it is to pray “OUR” about anything in the church today. Yet, each of us, beloved and broken; wounded and wonderful; imperfect and important; each of us are part of the “Our” in “Our Father.” And the Lord’s prayer makes me acknowledge that.
Secondly, part of me also wants to skip that part about asking for my ‘daily bread’. You see, I sense I want MORE than that. I want a LIFETIME of bread. Enough to make me not have to trust you and turn to you anew at each moment. Instead of praying for the daily strength to do what God asks of me, and then do the hard work of healing that this calls out of me, I want it to go away; to all just disappear. I want to go back to “church before the scandal.”
- I don’t want to have those hard conversations with hurting people, with folks who have left the church or are on the verge of leaving the church.
- I don’t want to worry about our college and graduate students as well as our teens and young adults who might get challenged that they would still go to church. I pray so earnestly that they will join me and us on working to reform the church from within, vs. walking way.
- I’d rather ask God for a LIFETIME of bread for them, so that they wouldn’t have to make that daily choice to live their faith in the church – that it would be automatic for them.
And can’t I skip that part about asking God to forgive me as I forgive others? I find myself angry at those guys and their awful behavior. There is the redeemed part of me that knows, as St. Augustine said, that there but for the grace of God go I. But honestly, I don’t all the way know what forgiveness of them means right now.
And yet, I know this: I cannot NOT pray this prayer of my Jesus. I truly know he is the way. He is my hope. HIS Is the way that leads to life. And so I must and will and want to pray for HIS kingdom, even though I know that means I will have to be a part of the answer to that prayer. And I know I cannot NOT pray this prayer because of who Jesus wanted to make me/us become in praying it – connected, merciful, forgiven and forgiving, dependent on God and desiring his Kingdom and not my own.
So, these days I do my best to take this entire struggle and all of this pain to the cross. Though I don’t know if the tragic history of this abuse crisis will be healed in my lifetime, I do believe that the death and resurrection of Jesus is more powerful than any and every evil. Therefore, if not here, then I firmly believe that this tragic history will be healed one day in God’s Kingdom.
Though I never met them, I can picture those Italian sisters. And I so appreciate the honesty of the one who KNEW in HER GUT the hard work this prayer asks of her. And asks of us. And who had the courage to admit ‘I skippa that part’. “I skippa that part” does not work with the Our Father. Nor for us in the church. I pray for each of us that we may DARE to pray, and pray fully, this prayer that the Lord has given to all of us as a challenge for our living and as a sure guide for our salvation.