Sometimes all it takes is a single person in a single moment to renew someone’s hope and help them to heal. For me, it was Pope Benedict XVI who planted the seeds of hope in my heart during a time when I needed it most. This week I want to share about this life-changing and historical meeting that took place back in 2008.
After being sexually abused by a popular priest at our church when I was 15 years old, I lived through an unspeakably silent and dark period of time. Suppressing everything seemed easier than facing it, but when my oldest brother, Matt, died suddenly from a heart condition not too long after the abuse ended, my life became full of more pain than I can ever put into words.
Matt’s death hit everyone hard. We were devastated. I had an especially difficult time handling my grief. I had been the one who found him lying on the floor gasping for breath. It was me to whom he spoke his last words and me who watched his eyes close for the last time.
The burden of carrying around two traumas was too much to bear. My parents recognized that my grief went beyond what they knew to be normal and put me into grief counseling. There I found the courage to come forward. Despite being believed and having love and support from my family, I was a shattered girl. After learning that my rapist had other victims, I made the painful decision to face him in court. Following a two-week trial, he was sentenced to 8-10 years in prison.
Some justice had been done, but I was still left with the challenge of slowly and painfully picking up the pieces to my life. Over the next several years, I moved forward with the help of my parents and loved ones. I found my new normal. However, I struggled to hold onto my faith and had little hope that I could ever be anything close to whole again.
When the Victim and Support Outreach program of the Archdiocese of Boston invited me to attend Pope Benedict XVI’s mass during his visit to Washington, D.C., I eagerly accepted. Four other victims of clerical abuse and I would also be given a private audience with the Holy Father. I had no idea just how life-changing this opportunity would turn out to be.
In April of 2008, a group of us from Boston gathered at Washington Nationals Stadium. The place was packed. My heart leaped when I saw the popemobile appear and I could just make out a speck of white from where we sat high up in the stands. To be in the same place as St. Peter’s successor (although far away from him) was a surreal experience but knowing I would be able to speak with him later on that day seemed unbelievable.
I held onto every word of Pope Benedict’s homily. He spoke of the sex abuse scandal in the church and of hope, forgiveness and love. His words hit me hard.
“It is in the context of this hope born of God’s love and fidelity that I acknowledge the pain which the Church in America has experienced as a result of the sexual abuse of minors. No words of mine could describe the pain and harm inflicted by such abuse. It is important that those who have suffered be given loving pastoral attention. Nor can I adequately describe the damage that has occurred within the community of the Church. Great efforts have already been made to deal honestly and fairly with this tragic situation, and to ensure that children – whom our Lord loves so deeply, and who are our greatest treasure – can grow up in a safe environment. These efforts to protect children must continue. Yesterday I spoke with your Bishops about this. Today I encourage each of you to do what you can to foster healing and reconciliation, and to assist those who have been hurt. Also, I ask you to love your priests, and to affirm them in the excellent work that they do. And above all, pray that the Holy Spirit will pour out his gifts upon the Church, the gifts that lead to conversion, forgiveness and growth in holiness.”
Pope Benedict’s closing words particularly struck me to the core.
“Those who have hope must live different lives! By your prayers, by the witness of your faith, by the fruitfulness of your charity, may you point the way towards that vast horizon of hope which God is even now opening up to his Church, and indeed to all humanity: the vision of a world reconciled and renewed in Christ Jesus, our Savior…”
HOPE.
I felt as though he was speaking directly to me. Oh, how I was struggling to hold onto hope! There had been many times over those difficult years when all hope seemed lost. I was worn out and weary. There had been so much loss and heartbreak, and at times I felt I was hanging on by a thread. I had lost my innocence from the sexual abuse. Then I lost my brother. I had also recently battled several illnesses including a rare and potentially fatal form of eye cancer. Just before going to Washington, I had been diagnosed with a life-threatening heart condition.
Many times, I had thrown my hands to the heavens and shouted, “What else, Lord?! I can’t take anything else!”
I felt as though one thing after another was being thrown at me and I didn’t feel strong enough to contend with any of it. Pope Benedict’s words were a much-needed reminder that, with faith, there is always hope.
Later that day during my group’s car ride to the Apostolic Nunciature of the Holy See, I struggled to think of the “right” thing to say to the Holy Father. I wanted to say something profound, something that would speak, not only to the pain and suffering I had personally endured, but to the suffering endured by my family and other survivors of clerical abuse.
The more I tried to prepare, the more muddled my brain felt. I closed my eyes and started trying to pray a Rosary. I couldn’t keep the words straight and finally gave myself over to the tears that had been welling up.
“Give me the courage to say what I need to say,” was all I could pray. I felt no great consolations but the pope’s words about hope kept springing to mind.
Once we reached our destination, we were led into a chapel where we silently waited. I knelt and gazed upon the image of the Blessed Mother holding the Baby Jesus behind the Blessed Sacrament. Even in the stillness, there was a nervous, silent anticipation but also a sense of peace. Somehow, I was comforted with the knowledge that the right words would come when the time came.
After a while, the door behind us quietly opened. I turned and couldn’t take my eyes off the slight, old, humble-looking man who had just entered the room. The pope had a slight, sweet smile upon his face as he walked towards the front of the chapel where he knelt before the Blessed Sacrament and led us in prayer.
Being in the same room with the earthly head of the Catholic Church was surreal. Being in Pope Benedict’s presence was not the same as meeting just any famous person. I have never been able to adequately describe it with words, but I felt as though I was in the presence of a very holy person. It felt as though a great saint had just walked in.
I knelt and stared in awe at Pope Benedict’s back as he prayed. His shoes were red, a somewhat random little detail that has always stuck with me.
When the Holy Father arose from prayer, Cardinal Sean O’Malley of Boston who was accompanying our group, presented him with a large book containing the names of the known survivors of abuse from the Archdiocese of Boston. The book of names helped to humanize the victims. The book was made to help humanize the victims. We all have names, faces and stories.
Over 1,000 victims were named. Keep in mind that this was just within the Archdiocese of Boston. Some names had small crosses next to them. These were victims who had died, many from suicide and substance abuse.
Pope Benedict appeared to be visibly moved by the book. His eyes teared up and his face suddenly bore on it such pain and anguish that for some reason I had a sudden, wild desire to run up and hug and comfort him.
The pope spoke to us, conveying a message of love and hope to the world and to the Church brought to its knees by the sex-abuse scandal. He apologized for the pain and suffering members of the church had caused. I felt grateful for what felt like a heartfelt apology but, at the same time, I really wished the words were coming from the people who had directly caused my pain – my rapist and his supporters.
Each of us was then called forward one at a time for a few moments alone with Pope Benedict. As my turn approached, my heart beat so fast that I thought it might burst out of me. I felt nervous, excited and still at a complete loss for words. When I was finally called forward, the profound “right words” never came. Instead, as I left my seat and saw him waiting for me at the end of the aisle, I burst into tears.
He reached his hands out to me and, in that moment, I abandoned all sense of propriety and more or less ran towards him. I grasped his outstretched hands as we met. Although no powerful words came from my lips, the tears poured from my eyes as I sobbed uncontrollably.
God saw fit for me to react in a way that a child would — with tears. It was the simplest, most innocent, and most heartfelt form of expression. Those spontaneous tears spoke volumes. They spoke, not only for my own pain and suffering, but for the pain and suffering of each and every abused individual. My tears spoke for the suffering endured by the families of the victims and for the suffering of the church left reeling by the evil that had been allowed to invade it.
Generally, I have never been one to “feel” my faith. I have never experienced visions or had deep internal conversations with God. However, in that moment with Pope Benedict I felt the presence of my Lord more powerfully than I can ever put into words. It was overwhelming.
I experienced what I can only describe as a “rush,” an epiphany of sorts. Right then, I felt God’s love enveloping me. It was so powerful, more powerful than anything I had ever experienced. It was more powerful than the pain, suffering and anguish I had endured. I recognized that God could (and had done and would continue to do) the impossible in my life. My faith had been teetering on the brink for so long, but in that moment, I was finally able to completely open my heart to God. I realized that there was so much hope to be found even in the midst of suffering. Jesus had suffered with so much love – more love than I could ever imagine – in order to bring us hope.
As the thoughts whirled through my head, I suddenly couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by the fact that I was crying my eyes out. I wanted to say something! As I stared through the tears at our joined hands, Pope Benedict’s voice broke the silence. Ever so kindly and gently, he said to me,” I understand you are getting married soon.” I looked into his eyes and saw my own reflection in the tears that were pooled within them. I nodded through my own tears and smiled.
My fiancé (now my husband) and I were to be married in two months. Alex had certainly been an unexpected highlight in my life. I couldn’t wait to be his wife!
“My blessings on your marriage and your future family,” he said. He presented me with a beautiful white box imprinted with the Vatican seal. I later discovered that the box contained a pair of ivory colored rosary beads. As Pope Benedict gently squeezed my hands one last time he said, “There is always hope. I will be praying for you.”
As I reflected on that day, I realized that Pope Benedict’s words to me were meant to be shared. They weren’t just for me. Just as my tears spoke for so many, his words were a universal message. It is this message of hope that is so desperately needed in today’s world. This message of hope is one that I felt a strong calling to share and one that eventually led to the writing of my book as well as my work.
There is always hope.
We have all faced crises at one time or another in one way or another. The Church and our world certainly continue to face many challenges and difficulties. Even the Catholic Church has endured bad popes, heretics, bad priests, bad teachers, and been corrupted in various ways over the last 2000 years.
But there has always been hope. There will always be hope.
Pope Benedict XVI leaves behind a lasting legacy. He was a great scholar and theologian and a fierce defender of the faith. Although his papacy and death have been met with mixed reactions (I’ll address some of the issues and offer my own perspective within the next few weeks), right now I am choosing to focus on celebrating the gift of his life. In my eyes Pope Benedict’s greatest achievement was bearing witness to the light even in the darkest of times.
My prayer is that the message that Pope Benedict XVI spoke to me so many years ago will be passed on to others who need it.
“There is always hope.”
May your hope be renewed in the coming year and always!
Please join me in praying for the sweet repose of Pope Benedict’s immortal soul. Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
