In the delightfully crunchy world of debate, it seems apparent to me that the closer you are to the tactics of the Westboro Baptist Church, the closer you are to being entirely wrong. This is a concept towards which I have no doubt that my atheist friends will nod in earnest. After all, the level of intellectual destruction it takes to reduce one’s entire theology to the slogan “God Hates Fags” is embarrassing, to the point that the entire universe seems sadder for WBC’s very existence.

So it is odd—and I pretend with a passion that it is not simultaneously and sickeningly fascinating—that we sometimes see others joining forces with the WBC. What dark power could possibly exist on earth strong enough to bring about such a cosmic convergence? Why, The One Holy Roman Catholic Apostolic Church!

You see the Church—may She blossom, build more cathedrals, and continue being the world’s largest charity—has the remarkable habit of unifying friends and enemies alike. Thus we see record numbers of Anglicans and Lutherans becoming Catholic, incredibly improved relations with the Eastern Orthodox Church, and, in general, great strides towards Christian unity, while Evangelicals, Agnostics and New Agers all sit together on the sidelines with identically incensed “you-don’t-allow-birth-control?” expressions on their faces. The Wiccan and the Darwinist can set aside their mutual contempt for each other and smoke a few bowls over the Church’s position on abortion. It happens.

But my point is that these days, any argument with a Catholic can be neatly avoided—and often is by the Church's most vigilant opponents—by devolving to the Westboro Baptist Church’s self-proclaimed “air-tight, three word case against the Catholic Church”: priests rape boys.
 

Reason to be Catholic #1334542: We have all the right enemies.

The problem is, as others have noted here before, this is a bad argument against the Church. Actually, it is not an argument at all. It is specifically the avoidance of any argument. But nevertheless:

If a man commits a crime as heinous and hideous as child molestation, he deserves all the mistrust and disgust thrown at him. If that man is in a position of care, as a priest is, that same man deserves all the more mistrust, excommunication, and punishment prescribed. But if a stereotype is to be applied to an entire group of men, it follows that that group of men must commit the act more than any one else.

To use a more benign example, if the stereotype that “women are great multitaskers!” is to be a sensible stereotype, women must be greater multitaskers than men. If men are equally good at multitasking, or better than women at multitasking, the stereotype is empty. All well and good, but apply that same logic to priests and watch the world flip out.

The truth is that child-molestation is not a Catholic problem. It is a problem of Western culture in general. As Newsweek pointed out in their 2011 article "Mean Men", “experts say there’s simply no data to support the claim [that the Church is “a refuge for pederasts”] at all...based on the surveys and studies conducted by different denominations over the past 30 years, experts who study child abuse say they see little reason to conclude that sexual abuse is mostly a Catholic issue. ‘We don’t see the Catholic Church as a hotbed of this or a place that has a bigger problem than anyone else,’ said Ernie Allen, president of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.”

Dr. Thomas Plante, a Professor of Psychology and an Adjunct Clinical Professor of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Stanford University School of Medicine, says “available research suggests that approximately two to five percent of priests have had a sexual experience with a minor” a percentage which “is lower than the general adult male population that is best estimated to be closer to eight percent.”

A child is more likely to be molested by his parents, his neighbors, or family friends than a priest, yet there exists no stereotype about these groups. According to the US Department of Education’s report on the issue, entitled Educator Sexual Misconduct: A Synthesis of Existing Literature, “the physical sexual abuse of students in schools is likely more than 100 times the abuse by [Catholic] priests.” Why, one wonders, in the ever-present debates over the pay of teachers, public school programs and the like, is there no brilliant, hip man who stands up and says, “Yes, but everything you’re saying is suspect because teachers rape children." Why is there no stereotype against public-school teachers?

First of all, because, unlike American public schools and the culture in general, the Catholic Church has made an unprecedented effort to destroy the evil culture of child molestation. If you’ve ever worked for the Catholic Church, you know of what I speak. It can be hell, going through the various training programs in place to completely rid the Church of child molestation. Ninety-four percent of the abuse incidents reported to the Catholic Church from 1950 through 2009 took place before 1990, and there’s a reason for it. Already having less of a problem than the general culture, the Catholic Church has done more than any other institution to get rid of the problem entirely. All of this meant staying in the media spotlight. We did not avoid evil, we fought it, and we let the world see, because we are held to a higher standard than the world. So the Church bore the brunt of the blame, and has ‘cleaned house’ tremendously, while the public-schools are rarely discussed, and are still a major problem. And this is good, because one abuse-case is one too many, and I don’t give a damn how embarrassed it makes Catholics, all this attention the Church has paid to the issue—if it’s what it takes to keep children safe, it’s worth it.

But I fear that the real reason there exists a completely baseless stereotype against priests is the same reason the WBC has a stereotype against priests: It’s easier to make up a stereotype and name-call than deal with the claims of the Catholic Church. If people who make this claim really do wish to do The WBC, let ‘em. It’s so obviously ridiculous that it can only ever mean a Catholic has won the argument.

So how to win an argument with a Catholic? Not through empty stereotypes. You win by arguing.
 
 
Originally posted at Bad Catholic. Used with author's permission.
(Image credit: Lifehack)

When people hear that my husband and I began exploring Catholicism in 2005, one of the first questions they often ask is, “What about the sexual abuse scandals? Didn’t that scare you away from the Church?”

They’re usually surprised when I report that the answer is no; in fact, the scandals and the negative media coverage actually increased my faith in the Church. Here’s why:

Getting the Facts Straight

 
One of the first things I did was to look into the numbers behind the sexual abuse cases. Was I heading into an institution that was filled with sexual predators, as the media would have me believe? I was shocked to find that, by even the most anti-Catholic organizations’ estimates, only about 2 percent of Catholic priests had even been accused of sexual misconduct. And certainly the cover-ups by members of the hierarchy were deplorable, but my research led me to see that that was common in all organizations, not just the Church. To list just one of the many examples, in Washington there were 159 coaches accused of sexual misconduct with minors over a 10-year period. Ninety-eight of them continued to coach or teach. And how did the school hierarchies respond? To quote this article:

"When faced with complaints against coaches, school officials often failed to investigate them and sometimes ignored a law requiring them to report suspected abuse to police. Many times, they disregarded a state law requiring them to report misconduct to the state education office.
 
Even after getting caught, many men were allowed to continue coaching because school administrators promised to keep their disciplinary records secret if the coaches simply left. Some districts paid tens of thousands of dollars to get coaches to leave. Other districts hired coaches they knew had records of sexual misconduct."

In another example, Carol Shakeshaft and Audrey Cohan looked at 225 cases of abuse by educators in New York City. Shakeshaft reported:

"All of the accused admitted sexual abuse of a student, but none of the abusers was reported to the authorities, and only 1 percent lost their license to teach. Only 35 percent suffered negative consequences of any kind, and 39 percent chose to leave their school district, most with positive recommendations. Some were even given an early retirement package."

I could go on, but you get the idea. After investigating the issue, I found that, sadly, there is nothing different going on in the Catholic Church than in any organization where men are in contact with children, and that it’s an unfortunate fact of human nature—and not something unique within the Church—that people in hierarchy tend to look the other way when it comes to bad conduct by the people who report to them.

However, unlike the coaches or the school teachers, the Catholic clergy were supposed to be men of God. What are we supposed to make of it when even they commit atrocities like sexual abuse? Pondering that question was one of the key things that led me decide to become Catholic.

Understanding Who Guides the Church

 
While I was researching Catholicism, I seemed to be surrounded by the message that the Catholic hierarchy was corrupt to the core. Not only were negative stories about the Church splashed all over the media, but I’d happened to pick up some historical biographies from times and places that were heavily Catholic, and many of those books gave the impression that every bishop who ever lived had a personal harem that he only left long enough to go steal from the poor and kick puppies. I knew that these were heavily biased accounts that not only exaggerated a lot of the bad deeds, but that also overlooked all the incredible priests, bishops and popes throughout the ages who radiated the love of Christ. However, being surrounded by all this negativity did remind me that not every Catholic is a saint, and that sometimes even people in the hierarchy do bad things.

I found myself in a strange place: On the one hand, I was blown away by the wisdom I’d found in this Church. Reading the great works of Catholic theology left me feeling like I’d discovered the secret owner’s manual to the human life; the Catholic worldview was like the box top that made all the puzzle pieces of the human experience come together in a coherent whole. In the Catechism I saw a seamless, perfectly consistent moral code that was as compelling as it was counterintuitive—and when I tried following it, I found a peace and joy that I have never encountered before.

Yet on the other hand, I had all these reminders that Catholics are sinners too sometimes—that, in fact, even their leaders aren’t exempt from committing some of the most deplorable sins known to man.

It was when these two things collided that I realized: I don’t think people can do this on their own.

Ironically, the more the culture tried to paint the Catholic Church as full of sinful people, the more convinced I became of its truth. I didn’t believe that ordinary people could come up with a set of teachings that contained unparalleled wisdom; maintain them consistently across all times and places, even despite tremendous pressure to recant; and then keep it all going for two thousand years. And even if the media had been right that the priesthood and episcopate were full of corrupt and immoral people, that would have only made the situation more inexplicable in purely human terms—corrupt and immoral people are always the first to sell out and preach whatever message the culture wants to hear in order to get more power for themselves.

In short, I saw something divine at work here.

The Catholic Church has claimed all along that this is an institution “powered by” God, so to speak. It was founded by Jesus Christ, not humans, and a divine Force continues to guide it to this day. Just as he did with Sacred Scripture, God uses imperfect people to proclaim his perfect truth. It’s a crazy claim, particularly hard to believe in this age when atheistic materialism dominates the culture. But I think that the constant negative portrayals of Catholics in popular culture can be a boon to our faith in this department. Because every time the world reminds us that our natures are no less fallen than anyone else’s, it’s a reminder that our Church, its sacraments, and its teachings could not exist without Someone helping us out.
 
 
Originally published at the National Catholic Register. Used with author's permission.
(Image credit: Jeremy Sarber)