An excerpt*:
It is a difficult time to be a Catholic. I find it hard to identify myself with the Church because of the way its apologists are conducting themselves these days. Firstly, there was the whole debate on reproductive health. I believe that many of the people who were advocating for a reproductive health bill, Catholic or not, were acting out of a genuine desire to preserve life. Many of the people I knew who felt so strongly for a reproductive health bill were men and women who spent decades of their lives helping poor women find ways to realize their potential as persons despite the crushing weight of unjust poverty. They are fighting hard for the passage of some kind of reproductive health system because in their conscience, in the very depths of their reason, they judged that such a system would enable women to be come better persons and mothers—if not wives.
Thus, I found it so painful to see how official and unofficial defenders of the Church attacked the persons who, in their best judgment, thought that the reproductive health bill was the best way to save the lives of suffering women and children. Instead of engaging these men and women of good will, the outspoken apologists of the church launched an attack against the proponents of the RH system. There were veiled threats about excommunication. Those who believed in an RH system were labeled haters of life, of families, of children. Lines were drawn so harshly that dialogue was almost impossible. Clearly, this antagonism was first created by the angry Church apologists because they made so many venomous statements. And of course I understand where they were coming from. In their own conscience, they saw that the bill could propagate a prophylactic mentality, promote casual sex especially among the young, and cause the deaths of innocent, unborn children. And they could very well be right. All this time of conflict, they have been projecting themselves in the media as angry, intolerant, self-righteous hounds of heaven who are ready to condemn and excommunicate anyone who did not agree with them.
And then this CCP exhibit comes into the public sphere. It was meant to be offensive and so it did offend. Personally, I agree with the CCP board member who said that the exhibit was aimed not to offend God or to desecrate the Holy but to reflect on the kitschification of iconography. However, I do understand how the placing of a penis on the cross may have been an unnecessary crossing of some line. And often shock art can be adolescent and lacking in profound insight. But again, the reactions from the protectors of the Church are so rabid. There was the immediate labeling of people as blasphemers and anti-Christs. (One logic went like this: They are the anti-Christ because they are anti Christ.) However, the CCP board clearly acted with the best intention to promote the best art. Bad judgment or not, they did not deserve to be labeled the anti-Christs (if a plural could be made of that) or intentional blasphemers out to desecrate all that is holy. Was there no room for dialogue between people with the best intentions and good will on this issue?
Why were the Church defenders so rabid and violent in their hearts? Perhaps it is because they feel that God is being hurt in all this. But this is what we are perhaps forgetting in all these debates: God is bigger than all of us. If the RH Bill is wrong, God will find a way to make it right no matter the outcome of the debates and the passage of the law. If the controversial exhibit did offend God, God can absorb more mud than any iconoclastic artist can fling at him. We shouldn’t worry so much about God and His agenda that we resort to the ways of hate and violence. Because more hurtful to the building of the kingdom than the passage of a potentially dangerous, life-threatening law or the blaspheming of Jesus’ holy image is the losing of faith of the people of the building the kingdom in love. Today, more and more, the people of the Church are presenting themselves as a rabid, intolerant, reactionary, and spiteful. They are coming off as desperate to keep their influence and power over the people—so desperate that they will use the tools of anti-love to achieve what they believe love calls them to do.
People of good will are now being turned away from the Church as a home of their hearts or as a partner in their service to the people of God who are suffering much from pain and sorrow. How can people of good will desire to partner with the Church or draw energy from her if her energy is so negative and draining? Instead of being the beacon of love in the world, the people of the Church have been projecting a harsh, unappealing light.
This is very unfortunate because I remember that it was the Church’s face of love that made me want to remain a Catholic. Until I was in my third year of college, I was an agnostic. I wasn’t sure if there was a god and I couldn’t reject the possibility outright because I had all this Catholic guilt and fear in me. I’m sure most of us remember how we were made to believe in God—there was always a mixture of “believe or be condemned to the fires of hell and Mama Mary loves you so much she’ll cry if you don’t love Jesus.” However, there came a point in my life when I realized that much of the evil around me was perpetrated by Catholics. The hacienderos who stole land or paid their kasama’s an unfair and non-living wage were Catholic. The politicians who supported Marcos and were even the backbone of his dictatorship were the best friends of the Church. The businessmen who broke-up unions and denied their workers their just wages were the ministers of the Eucharist. Even the leaders of the Church seemed to support these perpetrators of injustice and suffering by turning a blind eye to the evil and even gaining in wealth and luxury from this evil. For the longest time, I did not want to belong to this Church and was just waiting to gain the momentum or strength of will to actually reject it and transcend the guilt and fear that this rejection would entail.
The other reason I did not leave the Church so easily was because I wanted to give myself a chance to find God if God indeed existed. In my heart I thought that if there was indeed a God and believing was such a good thing, why is it that the people who believe in him are the worst people I knew? But still, there might be a God and if there was, it was worth finding out. So I stayed in the Church and went to mass because if there was a God, He would probably manifest here.
Agustin Martin Rodriguez, Ph.D. is the chair of the Ateneo de Manila University’s Department of Philosophy.
*The full version is published online at the Philosophy Department’s official blog, which can be found at http://admuphilo.blogspot.com.
