Of Priests, Football, and Idols

By Christopher Medeiros



Jerry Sandusky and Joe Paterno



The Penn State child sexual abuse scandal has been all over the news. Once again a pillar of the community, a person in power in a beloved American institution, was accused of abusing his authority and violating children. Once again the people in that institution allegedly did not only have safeguards to protect children. We are again looking at the structure of an institution (college football at Penn State) and how it may have developed in ways that may protected the abusers. Equally, or perhaps more disturbingly, Penn State college football fans expressed strong vocal support for those who allegedly knew about the abuse of children and never did anything about it.

Does any of this sound familiar? Am I talking about football or the church?

YES!

  

For me, someone from Fall River MA, one of the first places in the US to break the story of the widespread sexual abuse of children by Roman Catholic priests, this story is all too familiar.  In the middle of that scandal one of the parish priests I grew up with was arrested and sentenced on charges of child pornography. Also as that scandal grew the hierarchy of the church, and many faithful Catholics, believed that the abuse could be explained by looking at the horrible actions a few pedophiles, but not in looking in the ways the church itself operated as structured. It is the structure of the institution itself that allowed pedophiles to function and flourish.

Now the news is full of sensational details and questions about whether or not graduate assistant Mike McQueary reported the abuse to the police and why once head coach Joe Paterno was informed of the abuse he didn’t make sure Jerry Sandusky wasn’t fired and arrested. Penn State fired Paterno and Penn State president Graham Spanier on Nov. 9, four days after Sandusky was arrested. Athletic director Tim Curley and a vice president, Gary Schultz, are accused of perjury and failing to report suspected child abuse. Both have stepped down from their posts. In the midst of this, Penn State fans are rallying around Joe Paterno and the institution and see that the only fault is in the alleged abusers, not the system.

That questions of who knew about the abuse and who failed to report it are very important, but they are also a tantalizing distraction from looking at the ways this kind of thing can happen and can be prevented. It is clear in the “wink, wink, nod, nod” culture of college football numerous people might have known of or even witnessed Jerry Sandusky’s violation of young boys. Some people told some other people, but nobody pushed hard enough to report this to authorities and be sure it was followed through. Many people found many ways to ignore or minimize what was happening. As a result, not surprisingly, as the years passed, more and more children were violated.

Is it a coincidence that both college football and the Roman Catholic church are beloved powerful hierarchical organizations where white men have all the power and authority?  We as a society still have a tendency to create individuals and institutions that become idols which we shower with adoration and hand over inordinate amounts of power.

In today’s world the idolatry for us is not a golden calf in desert. Idolatry continues in the people and the institutions where we help foster a concentration of power in one or a few people. People we set apart and set above the rest of us. While those who abuse that power have individual responsibility when they abuse that power, we as a society have to look at the ways we create idols that are above accountability. We give people power and don’t look at how power has to be shared and kept in check in ongoing ways.

Yes, the abuser must be punished if found guilty. Yes those who didn’t report this must be held accountable, but if we are really interested in stopping this from happening again we must be wiling to look at the iconic hierarchical institutions we create.

What are things to look for?

• Look for institutions where the relationships between those at the top with the most power and the bottom with the least power are extreme.  

• In the Roman Catholic Church, the chasm between the laity and the people is enormous. There can be no “mass” without a priest. Individual churches have no say in what priests lead their congregations, they cannot dismiss a priest nor do they have any authority to hold their priest accountable for anything. Priests are closer to God; they have the power to act as the go-between for God and the people. Women cannot hold any position of ordained ecclesiastical power.  

• In college football, the overwhelmingly white male owners and coaches, have lots of power and money. Under them are student assistants, like Mike McQueary, then players. These players are often young economically disadvantaged students on athletic scholarships, at schools where their academic backgrounds are far below the students they are in class with and who are many of the fans of their games. While children aren’t necessarily a part of this hierarchy, the power and money are structured such that those at top have so much power and control they are able away to get away with many things no one could. They are above scrutiny.  

• In the business world at big corporations, is the janitor making minimum wage with no benefits while CEO and CFO make 30 million dollars?

• Look for rigidity of power. Is power something shared, invested in different people at different times, or does it always stick to one person or one tiny group of people for long periods of time? Are roles rigid in the institution? People have different functions, different responsibilities in organizations; are those functions rigid or can people move between them? For example, could the laity at a congregation have a say about the type of liturgy/worship they do or would that be seen as overstepping their boundaries? 

• Are there groups of people excluded from power, like women, people of color, LGBT people, etc? Are there many ‘kinds” of people holding power at different time, or does the same “kind” of people always seem to hold most of power?  

• Is there accountability? Are there set mechanisms that monitor power? What voice do  people, at all levels within an institution, have about how power is used or misused? Are people afraid to speak up?

Let’s make sure that Jerry Sandusky has his day in court and if found guilty is punished and never has ANY access to children ever again. Let’s look what kind of culture was created that might have lead people to not report the abuse of children.  The guilt of those who allow violation of children to continue must called to account. However, if we as a society are REALLY interested in stopping the abuse of the most vulnerable, the least powerful in our world, we have to look squarely and honestly at the people and institutions we help create and maintain. We have to be sure we don’t commit the sin of idolatry. We have to be sure that we don’t create people and institutions that are so powerful, that have so much control over others and so little accountable to anyone, that they are get away with horrible abuse.

* An earlier version appeared in Christopher Medeiros’s Spirit and Flesh blog at http://spiritandflesh.blogspot.com/ on November 20, 2011.

** Christopher Medeiros, MDiv ’99, is the Director of Admissions and Recruitment at the Episcopal Divinity School, Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Art, Censorship, and the Scandal of the Cross

by Patrick S Cheng

In late November, the Smithsonian Institution ordered the removal of a four-minute video clip from an exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery about same-sex love. The video contained, among other things, images of ants crawling on a crucifix.

The video was taken from the film A Fire in My Belly, which was created in 1987 by the late gay artist David Wojnarowicz as a tribute to his fellow artist and lover who had died of AIDS. The film also expressed Wojnarowicz's anger at his own HIV diagnosis, which at that time - nearly a decade before the availability of life-prolonging antiretroviral cocktail medications - was tantamount to a death sentence.*

Over the last month, the art world has been in an uproar over this act of censorship by the Smithsonian Institution. The removal of the Wojnarowicz video occurred after complaints by the Catholic League that the video of the crucifix and ants constituted anti-Christian hate speech. A number of members of Congress also complained about the clip, which undoubtedly hastened the demise of the video exhibit.

This is not the first time that controversial images of Jesus and the cross have resulted in public outcry and censorship. In 1987, the artist Andres Serrano created a work called Piss Christ, which was a photograph of a crucifix submerged in the artist’s own urine.

In 1997, the Roman Catholic archbishop of Melbourne unsuccessfully filed suit to prevent the display of the photograph in Australia at the National Gallery of Victoria. Shortly thereafter, several people physically attacked and tried to remove the photograph, which led to the cancellation of the show.

Recently, an exhibit of a six-foot tall chocolate statute of a nude crucified Jesus Christ by Cosimo Cavallaro was cancelled after outcries by the Catholic League (which described it as “one of the worst assaults on Christianity sensibilities ever”) and other religious groups. The anatomically-correct exhibit, called My Sweet Lord, was scheduled to be shown in a New York City art gallery during Holy Week of 2007.

How should we react, as persons of faith, to these admittedly offensive works of art? In my view, one of the redeeming functions of these works, theologically speaking, is to remind us of the deeply scandalous and offensive nature of the crucifixion.

As St Paul writes in his First Letter to the Corinthians, see 1 Cor 1:23, the cross is a “stumbling block,” or skandalon in the Greek, to non-Christians. In other words, who could believe that the Messiah, the savior of the world, would be tortured, executed, and die a shameful death as a common criminal?

As Christians, we have been desensitized to the horrors of the cross. Instead of understanding the cross as a state-sponsored instrument of execution, the cross has been turned into sentimental jewelry and pious artwork.

Instead of seeing the cross as a reminder of God-with-us in the flesh-and-blood sufferings of the world – a theologia crucis – the cross has been turned into a sanitized symbol of victory and ecclesial triumphalism – a theologia gloriae.

God is perfectly capable of redeeming the horrors of cross; that’s what the Resurrection and Easter Sunday is all about.

Unfortunately, the well-intentioned but misguided belief that Christians are the exclusive “owners” of the cross – and are required to protect it from profanation at all costs – is what often results in incredibly cruel and horrific persecutions such as the Crusades and the Inquisition.

God doesn’t need Christians to act as intellectual property watchdogs. Rather, God calls us to remember – through the cross – all those in the world who continue to suffer in the flesh and blood, whether through hunger, poverty, disease, sexual violence, hate crimes, or state-sponsored torture and executions.

* AZT, the first antiretroviral used was only introduced in 1996.

+ The Reverend Patrick S Cheng is the Assistant Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His book, Radical Love: An Introduction to Queer Theology, published by Church Publishing and available on Amazon, will be released in March 2011.