083_06_06
Who can mock this church?
National Post – May 6,
2010
By
Nicholas D. Kristof, JUBA, Sudan
Maybe the Catholic
Church should be turned upside down.
Jesus wasn't known
for pontificating from palaces, covering up scandals, or issuing Paleolithic
edicts on social issues. Does anyone think he would have protected clergymen
who raped children?
Yet if the top of the
church has strayed from its roots, much of its base is still deeply inspiring.
I came here to impoverished southern Sudan to write about Sudanese problems,
not the Catholic Church's. Yet once again, I am awed that so many of the
selfless people serving the world's neediest are lowly nuns and priests –
notable not for the grandeur of their vestments but for the grandness of their
compassion.
As I've noted
before, there seem to be two Catholic Churches, the old boys' club
of the Vatican and the
grass-roots network of humble priests, nuns and laity in places like Sudan. The Vatican certainly
supports many charitable efforts, and some bishops and cardinals are exemplary,
but overwhelmingly it's at the grass roots that I find the great soul of the
Catholic Church.
The Vatican
believes that this newspaper and other news organizations have been unfair and
overzealous in excavating the church's cover-ups of child rape. I see the
opposite. No organization has done more to elevate the moral stature of the
Catholic Church in the United
States than The Boston Globe. Its
groundbreaking 2002 coverage of abuse by priests led to reforms and by most
accounts a significant reduction in abuse. Catholic kids are safer today not
because of the cardinals' leadership, but because of The Boston Globe's.
Yet the church
leaders are right about one thing: there is often a liberal and secular
snobbishness toward the church as a whole – and that is unfair.
It may be easy at a New York cocktail party
to sniff derisively at a church whose apex is male chauvinist, homophobic and
so out of touch that it bars the use of condoms even to curb AIDS. But what
about Father Michael Barton, a Catholic priest from Indianapolis? I met Father Michael in the
remote village of Nyamlell, 150 miles from any paved road here in southern Sudan. He runs
four schools for children who would otherwise go without an education, and his
graduates score at the top of statewide examinations.
Father Michael came
to southern Sudan
in 1978 and chatters fluently in Dinka and other local languages. To keep his
schools alive, he persevered through civil war, imprisonment and beatings, and
a smorgasbord of disease. "It's very normal to have malaria," he said.
"Intestinal parasites – that's just normal."
Father Michael may be
the worst-dressed priest I've ever seen – and the noblest.
Anybody scorn him?
Anybody think he's a self-righteous hypocrite?
On the contrary, he
would make a great pope.
In the city of Juba, I met Cathy Arata, a nun from New
Jersey who spent years working with battered women in Appalachia. Then she moved to El Salvador during the brutal civil
war there, putting her life on the line to protect peasants. Two years ago, she
came here on behalf of a terrific Catholic project called Solidarity With Southern Sudan.
Sister Cathy and the
others in the project have trained 600 schoolteachers. They are fighting hunger
not with handouts but with help for villagers to improve agricultural
techniques. They are also establishing a school for health workers, with a
special focus on midwifery to reduce deaths in childbirth.
At the hospital
attached to that school, the surgeon is a nun from Italy. The other doctor is a
72-year-old nun from Rhode Island.
Nuns rock.
Sister Cathy would
like to see more decentralization in the church, a greater role for women, and
more emphasis on public service. She says she worries sometimes that if Jesus
returned he would say, "Oh, they got it all wrong!"
She would make a
great pope, too.
There are so many
more like them. There's Father Mario Falconi, an Italian
priest who refused to leave Rwanda
during the genocide and bravely saved 3,000 people from being massacred.
There's Father Mario
Benedetti, a 72-year-old Italian priest based in Congo who fled
with his congregation when their town was attacked by a brutal militia. Now
Father Mario lives side by side with his Congolese congregants in the squalor
of a refugee camp in southern Sudan,
struggling to get schooling for their children.
It's because of brave
souls like these that I honor the Catholic Church. I understand why many
Americans disdain a church whose leaders are linked to cover-ups and
antediluvian stances on women, gays and condoms – but the Catholic Church is
far larger than the Vatican.
And unless we're
willing to endure beatings alongside Father Michael, unless we're willing to
stand up to warlords with Sister Cathy, we have no right to disparage them or
their true church.