A Theology of Memory in Response to Clerical Sexual Abuse

Marcel Uwineza, SJ - La Civiltà Cattolica - Mon, Aug 7th 2023

On October 5, 2021, the Report of the Independent Commission on Sexual Abuses in the Church in France was published. It was requested by the French Bishops’ Conference and is now available for in-depth examination so that more effective strategies can be taken in the fight against abuse.

The Report shows that over a period of 70 years some 3,000 priests and religious sexually abused minors or vulnerable persons. A total of 216,000 people in France today (with a margin of error of 50,000) have been abused by Catholic priests and religious. If we include assaults committed by lay people (especially in schools), this estimate rises to 330,000. However, this is only one piece of a larger picture.

The worldwide crisis of clergy sexual abuse has inflicted wounds that will take many years to heal. Yet there is still denial of abuse. The terrible tragedy perpetrated against children and vulnerable adults by clergy still leaves extensive scars on God’s people and calls for a theology that assesses the role of memory. Being convinced that a family that does not remember disappears, we believe that memory is a theological imperative. But what kind of memory? How does one heal memories? As Johann Baptist Metz pointed out in regard to the Jewish Holocaust, God’s people must “not allow themselves to be talked out of such unreconciled memories, even by theology, but rather have faith with them, and with them to speak about God”[1]

Theology and human wounds

If it is true that memory constitutes the womb of history and theology, in a violent world theology must start precisely from the wounds. This article offers a re-examination of the relationship between humanity and the Church of God wounded by the sexual abuse of minors by clergy, but also of the authority of the Church today undermined by the loss of credibility. It is necessary to formulate a theology capable of directing the reconciliation of memory and, at the same time, of re-imagining the value of salvation in a Church that strives to heal the wounds of people. The aim, then, is to address the theological, anthropological, ecclesial and moral aspects of memory, that is, to assess the ambivalence of guilt, to weigh which specific memories should take priority over others, to confront unreconciled collective and individual memories and establish the vital meaning of forgiveness.

“Unreconciled memories” is the precise expression we will use below in the context of pedophilia. It is contextualized in many cases; we highlight some of them:

1) “Unreconciled memory” relates to the many victims who are survivors of sexual violence by priests and who face the difficult journey of being left alone to tell their story in a context of denials of abuse or suppression of memory.

2) It refers to the memory of children born of rape.

3) It also includes many victims who have decided to distance themselves as much as possible from those who hurt them.

4) Unreconciled memories are also inherent in perpetrators of abuse, those who have been released from prison and those who are in nursing homes because of their age and have been prohibited from exercising any public church ministry. They must find a way to coexist with the victims of their abuse or with the inner burden that comes from knowing that, had they not abused young and vulnerable people, today’s crisis in the Church would not have reached its present dimensions.

5) Theologically, unreconciled memories are about what place God has in the sea of suffering resulting from abuse.

6) Finally, many people still have to deal with the institutional failings of the Catholic Church, its institutional sins, complicity and failure to take responsibility that are still present. Yves Congar could not have said it better: on the part of our contemporaries, with regard to the Church, “more than by the sins of her members, we will be scandalized by her lack of comprehension, her failures, her delays.”[2]

The concept of memory in theology

If we keep in mind such unreconciled and irreconcilable memories, what, then, is the place of memory in theology? The concept of memory originates from the Hebrew verb zakar and means not only “to remember,” but also “to repeat,” in the sense of going back to recount, to testify.[3] It is not difficult to grasp the importance of remembering crimes such as clergy sexual abuse. In fact, “the crimes committed in the past do not belong to the past, but are, on the contrary, extremely current. They have shaped our societies […], in which the trauma they have imprinted remains very much present.”[4]

These may seem general statements, but they give an idea of how the past affects lives and communities. The call to remember is not just a call to turn to the past, it is also a call relevant to the present and the future. It makes us realize that for many people the present is painful. For many victims of clergy sexual abuse the past is not past; therefore, “to remember is to be present. But it is also to act. And to act, today and tomorrow, is to build a society in which this monstrous and criminal enterprise will simply be unthinkable.”[5] Remembering the victims of the terrorist attacks in New York, Nairobi, Paris and Brussels serves this purpose.

Christian theology recognizes that, as far as the orientation of human beings toward God is concerned, we are essentially persons characterized by memory. Christians remember what God has done in and through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. They remember the living presence of God’s Spirit in the Church. They celebrate Jesus’ invitation to break bread and share a cup of wine in memory of him (cf. Luke 22:19; 1 Cor 11:24). Christian theology plays a fundamental role in the relationship with memory and in delineating the identity of persons. “The intelligibility of Christianity is transposable in terms that are not purely speculative, but narrative: narrative-practical Christianity.”[6]

Thus a fundamental correlation is established between people’s faith and their contemporary situation. Theology has an unavoidable relational dimension. In doing theology it is necessary to be immersed in the life of God’s people and to see how Jesus’ message about the kingdom of God can give orientation to that life. Essentially, theology is an unceasing response to God, who remains continually in us. This response, rooted in faith, helps us to understand something about the world, about human life with its orientation toward the Lord, about God who is absolute transcendence and yet immanent reality, and about ourselves.

Theology is rooted in the history and political and economic realities of our world, which are often marked by the joy as well as the suffering of God’s people. Inevitably, it affects human experience, language, ideas and actions. These are the media through which we seek to engage in a relationship with God. There is, then, an intellectual and experiential horizon that is constitutive of theology as a human initiative, rooted in remembering how God continues to act in history.

Memory is fundamental to the formation of human identity. According to Paul Ricœur, it is located in the dimension of affectivity: we can remember because what is remembered is linked to a particular love or hate (displeasure).[7] Aristotle proposes a similar reflection in the Nicomachean Ethics, where he states that what we are is due to those who have preceded us and are part of us, and we keep their memories. He emphasizes that memory allows us to have respect for others and to pay what is due to them, which leads to justice.

Contemporary theologians agree. For example, Elizabeth Johnson writes: “Remembering the great crowd of female friends of God and prophets opens up possibility for the future; their lives bespeak an unfinished agenda that is now in our hands; their memory is a challenge to action.”[8] For Elie Wiesel, memory connects past and present: “It is because I remember our common origin that I approach the people who are my brothers and sisters. It is because I refuse to forget that their future is as important as mine […]. What would become of our future if we were deprived of memory?”[9]

When we look at the heartbreaking unreconciled memories of clergy sexual abuse, the expressions of these we have read serve as a premise and a rationale for grasping what it means to explore the “workings of memory,” and indicate how theology can help liberate both the wounded person and the Church.

Transforming people’s memories

The task of transforming and (re)forming the memory of people and their identity cannot remain on the margins of systematic theological reflection, since theology, in the light of the memory of the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus, reserves a particular space for the remembrance of the nature of sin and suffering, for the role of witnesses and spectators.

Flora Keshgegian, pastor of the Episcopal Church, affirms that the crucial point is not to specify what theology can do after so much suffering, nor even to elaborate a reflection on history and memory, but rather to show the situation of Christianity, which “has often been complicit in regimes of domination that have perpetrated abuse, persecution and violence.”[10]

We are judged not only by God, but also by our complicity with sin and silence before those who suffer. Perhaps “there may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.”[11] In this regard, neutrality is not permissible, and one must take a stand. As Elie Wiesel stated, “sometimes we must intervene . When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant.”[12]

Theologians should not only reflect on the implications of human sin, but also take into account the witness of the past and the present, offering hope for the future and doing justice to the dead and the living. An apologia for hope and the distinctiveness of Christian hope[13] should be offered to help people understand that memory has an impact on what we can become, but that this can only be done when constructive memory shapes the way we look at the past and thus averts a continuing destructive impact on the present.

Memory in an age of sexual abuse

What does it mean to “reconcile memory” in an age of clergy sexual abuse and its denial? In part, it means exposing the lies of the perpetrators who use them to continue their crimes. It is a process of liberation from the power of the past, working through the memories of the wounds inflicted.[14] The victim and the perpetrator – the children and the vulnerable, the priests – are linked by a relationship of suspicion; but once they have learned constructively from the past, they can better work to free themselves from each other, and the one who forgives always does something inconceivable.

The transformation of memory can involve a process in which we walk alongside the victims in an attempt to understand what happened, as Jesus did with the disciples on the way to Emmaus (cf. Luke 24:13-35). He helped them to understand that, in their journey toward something, they were in fact fleeing from something: from the terrible crucifixion of their friend Jesus. Purifying memory means saying no, empathically, to those who want to close with the past.[15] It means affirming that the future is in the journey, in that dynamic effort toward liberation linked to the creation of a space for reconciliation, and it is at the same time offering to the “unforgivable” the divine gift of forgiveness. It is a ritual act that proclaims the possibility – for the survivor and the perpetrator – of a different future. In this way we affirm that reconciling memory is a duty to the afflicted, to the violated children, and to the priests.

The complexity of clergy sexual abuse poses vital questions for theology: the importance of humility, the need for a pluralism of perspectives, the necessity of compassion, the cost of Christian discipleship, and the revision of clergy training. It is imperative to listen to the demanding word of God in an age when so many people have been wounded, and to listen to one another. Karl Rahner stated that “when we have said all that can be said about us […], we have still said nothing about ourselves, except […] we have added that we are beings oriented toward God, who is incomprehensible.”[16]

Since sexual abuse by clergy has ruined the lives of so many children, we need to rediscover the implications of that reality which Rahner calls “supernatural existential” and “obediential power.” The first expression refers to the fact that we are a grace-gifted humanity: everything we are is tied to our relationship with God. “There is nothing about who we are as human beings that is extraneous to our relationship with God […]. With a capacity to transcend anything we can control […], we are defined by an openness that ultimately only God can fulfill […]. There is no human nature without God.” The second expression – “obediential power” – refers to our capacity to hear God’s word; it concerns “not only what we do with our ears […], but being open with all our humanity to God’s word, being open to God’s presence in the whole created universe.” [17]

We need to understand how God acts in history and to recognize that the fundamental questions of theology arise from our common humanity as we face together the challenge of human destiny. The task of theology is to formulate fundamental questions of meaning and truth about how the mystery of God is to be approached, as well as questions about our existence as human beings, about society and about the whole of creation; and to do all this with faith, giving rigorous answers. Thus theologies arise from those who think for themselves, and by faith seek to show the incomprehensible mystery of God and how it gives meaning to the lives of his people.

The reconciliation of memory

In the context of the wounds of clergy sexual abuse, theology must free itself from the closure of a Church that has been shaped by bourgeois and classist sensibilities and has been conditioned by its preoccupation with respectability, material success, authoritarianism, by a weak or facile conception of the God of Jesus Christ and a service of his Gospel made up only of words. The Church has unfortunately failed in its duty to honor people, thus sinning against their Creator and denying itself.

There can be no authentic Christian theology if we turn our backs on the wounds of those abused by priests and bishops; in so doing, we would be failing in our duty to take the past seriously. Remembering the wounds of pedophilia is never a mere factual re-presentation of the past as past. Hannah Arendt offers us a fitting analogy: “To describe concentration camps sine ira is not to be ‘objective,’ but to condone them.”[18]

But where does our anger, our indignation come from ? To re-imagine the human and the Church, the reconciliation of memory is essential. Therefore, how can we effectively deal with unreconciled memories?

First, reconciliation of memory must recognize that “denials of abuse” are still a problem, and must put first the truth about what happened, why it happened, and who did the evil. The memory of clergy sexual abuse must become the basis from which to confront current reality and demand change and accountability. Writing about the power of truth, Saint Augustine t: “Let the truth be spoken, then, especially when some problem impels one to speak it; and let those who are capable of it understand; otherwise, if silence is reserved for those who cannot understand, not only are they robbed of the truth, but those who could conquer by means of the truth and thereby protect themselves from falsehood are actually conquered by falsehood.”[19]

Secondly, we must support the victims and acknowledge the responsibilities of the ministers of the Church. This is the theology of remembrance. No one has said that this is or will be easy. It is hard work, indeed impossible, if done alone; but with forgiveness we achieve the reconciliation of memory in our relationship with God and with each other in the context of clergy sexual abuse in the Church.

Third, on the path to the reconciliation of memory, the Church would do well to heed the words of Jesuit William O’Neill: “memory born of testimony must account for the systematic distortions of supremacist ideology, yet refuse to ‘essentialize’ victim and perpetrator. Victims can become executioners.”[20] This reconciliation of memory is therefore a task addressed to all brothers and sisters in the faith.

Fourth, thinking about the task of theology in an age of clergy sexual abuse demands that we make a firm commitment that a new theology will be written in the blood of the victims. This means taking serious action against abusers; it means taking the past and the present seriously. Reflecting on her visits to the graves of her relatives and friends, Maggy Barankitse, a Tutsi woman from Burundi, wrote: “The reason I return to those graves is not to relive the trauma, but to see the future more clearly.”[21] Memory must anticipate and guide the victims’ attitudes toward life and, at the same time, help them and the whole Church “to become aware that one can see the future clearly only by remembering the past.”[22]

Fifth, many people complain that there is a lot of talk in the Vatican and other Church institutions about healing, whereas measures to hold local bishops accountable for what is happening should be strengthened. At the same time, the painful memories of the victims should be heard and respected.

Sixth, the reconciliation of memories should build an apologia for hope to inspire a new theology for a renewed Church, so that we may hear once again, despite our ecclesial wounds, these words of God: “For I know the plans I have made for you – thus says the Lord – plans to make you prosper, not to harm you, plans to give you a future full of hope” (Jer 29:11). It is this hope that allows us to imagine the forgiveness of the unforgivable.

* * *

We conclude our article with the words that Pope Francis used at the General Audience of October 6, 2021, referring to the French Report mentioned earlier. He made an appeal using some of the considerations set out above: “I wish to express to the victims my sadness and my pain for the traumas they endured and my shame, our shame, that for so long the Church has been incapable of putting this at the center of her concerns. I assure them of my prayers. I pray, and let us all pray together: ‘To you Lord the glory, to us the shame’: this is a moment of shame. I encourage the bishops and you, dear brothers and sisters who have come here to share this moment, I encourage the bishops and religious superiors to continue to do everything possible so that similar tragedies will not be repeated. I express my closeness and fatherly support to the priests in France in the face of this difficult but beneficial trial, and I invite French Catholics to assume their responsibility to guarantee that the Church be a safe home for everyone.”

[1]. J. B. Metz, A Passion for God: The Mystical-Political Dimension of Christianity, New York, Paulist Press, 1998, 2.

[2]. Y. Congar, True and False Reform in the Church, Milan, Jaca Book, 2015, 58.

[3]. Cf. C. Fournet, The Crime of Destruction and the Law of Genocide: Their Impact on Collective Memory, Burlington, Ashgate, 2007, XXX.

[4]. Ibid.

[5]. J. Chirac, “Discours prononcé lors de l’inauguration de la nouvelle exposition du pavillon d’Auschwitz”, in Libération, January 27, 2005.

[6]. J. B. Metz, La fede, nella storia e nella società, Brescia, Queriniana, 1978, 162.

[7]. Cf. P. Ricœur, Memory, History, Forgetting, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2004, 17.

[8]. E. A. Johnson, Friends of God and Prophets: A Feminist Theological Reading of the Communion of Saints, New York, Continuum, 1998, 169.

[9]. E. Wiesel, From the Kingdom of Memory. Reminiscences, New York, Schocken Books, 1990, 10.

[10]. F. A. Keshgegian, Redeeming Memories: A Theology of Healing and Transformation, Nashville, Abingdon, 2000, 17.

[11]. E. Wiesel, “Speech of Acceptance of the Nobel Peace Prize,” December 10, 1986.

[12]. Ibid.

[13]. Cf. M. Uwineza, “On Christian Hope: What makes it distinctive and credible?”, in America, April 4, 2016, 24.

[14]. Among those who have best shown us what it means to transform tragic memories we can mention Nelson Mandela. He had been in prison for 27 years during the apartheid regime in South Africa. When he was released, he did not ignore the ordeal he had lived through, but turned it into an opportunity to bless his country by seeking to associate both blacks and whites in his government, rather than marginalize those who had tortured him. By showing his former enemies that the world was bigger than their narrow views, Mandela revealed the foundation of what it means to be human.

[15]. Surely this was the dream of Martin Luther King and other civil rights activists who learned from the horrors of slavery and sought to achieve freedom for all in America.

[16]. K. Rahner, “Theology and Anthropology”, in Id., Theological Investigations, vol. 9, New York, Seabury, 1972, 216; cf. Id., “On the Theology of the Incarnation”, in Id., Theological Investigations, vol. 4, ibid., 1982, 108.

[17]. R. Lennan, Karl Rahner: Theologian of Grace, 12 Lectures on 5 CDs, North Bethesda, NYKM, 2015, CD 1, track 23-25. Cf. K. Rahner, Hearer of the Word, New York, Continuum, 1994.

[18]. H. Arendt, “A Reply to Eric Voegelin”, in S. Forti (ed), Arendt Archive 2. 1950-1954, Milan, Feltrinelli, 1994, 175.

[19]. Augustine of Hippo, The Gift of Perseverance, 16, 40.

[20]. W. O’Neill, “Never Again: Moving forward after the genocide in Rwanda”, in America, December 11, 2019.

[21]. E. Katongole, Born from Lament: Theology and Politics of Hope in Africa, Grand Rapids, William B. Eerdmans, 2017, 260.

[22]. Id., “‘Memoria Passionis’ as Social Reconciliation in Eastern Africa: Remembering the Future at Maison Shalom”, in J. J. Carney – L. Johnston (eds), The Surprise of Reconciliation in the Catholic Tradition, New York, Paulist Press, 2018, 277.

A Theology of Memory in Times of Sexual Abuse Committed by Clergy

Marcel Uwineza, SJ

Theology and human wounds

“Unreconciled memories” is the precise expression we will use below in the context of pedophilia. It is contextualized in many cases; we highlight some of them: 1) “Unreconciled memory” relates to the many victims who are survivors of sexual violence by priests and who face the difficult journey of being left alone to tell their story in a context of denials of abuse or suppression of memory. 2) It refers to the memory of children born of rape. 3) It also includes many victims who have decided to distance themselves as much as possible from those who hurt them. 4) Unreconciled memories are also inherent in perpetrators of abuse, those who have been released from prison and those who are in nursing homes because of their age and have been prohibited from exercising any public church ministry. They must find a way to coexist with the victims of their abuse or with the inner burden that comes from knowing that, had they not abused young and vulnerable people, today’s crisis in the Church would not have reached its present dimensions. 5) Theologically, unreconciled memories are about what place God has in the sea of suffering resulting from abuse. 6) Finally, many people still have to deal with the institutional failings of the Catholic Church, its institutional sins, complicity and failure to take responsibility that are still present. Yves Congar could not have said it better: on the part of our contemporaries, with regard to the Church, “more than by the sins of her members, we will be scandalized by her lack of comprehension, her failures, her delays.”[2]

The concept of memory in theology