#me watching this show was a continuum of my feelings imploding.

[bylrndgm]

GOOD OMENS (2019 - ) 2.02 The Clue

[silverbackwolf14]

Hey sorry to bother but I would find it funny if q jr just Appear on the Enterprise and was messing about when he accidentally lets it slip about Picard and Q relationship. Love you write and it's only getting better.

        Aw, thank you! This one was difficult to write because I have not seen Voyager. I have, however, read the amazing book ‘I,Q’. (I highly recommend it, it’s amazing.) Anyway, when it comes to writing q Junior, I’m as awkward as Picard around children. I do however, hope you enjoy this. And to other anons I have not answered, I swear I’m getting around to it. Sorry.

—————————————————————————————————-

 The pattering of feet was unnatural to the young Q who explored the vast hallways of the starship Enterprise. He seldom spent time in a materialistic form, so the experience was strange to him. His powers had not yet fully developed, and he was very proud of himself for making it to the Enterprise without help. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be aboard without permission, but the temptation of exploration had thrown all caution out the window.

q Junior had always been the curious type. He simply wanted to know what the other Q knew. But humans were special. Not even the Q knew everything about them, or rather, they didn’t understand them. q wanted to explore the humans that captivated his father so completely.

He had already met Captain Jean-luc Picard; his father’s human mate. He had seemed nice, but a little awkward around him he had noticed. q giggled as he remembered how flustered they’d both been when Commander Riker had showed up at the door. q really didn’t understand why they tried so hard to keep it a secret from Picard’s crew. Was the Captain ashamed of his father? He hoped not, q didn’t think his father would like that very much.

q continued his adventure through the hall until he came to an area with large windows. He stopped a moment to admire the shimmering nebulae outside. He loved the beauty of space, for it often reminded him of home. He gazed at the greens and purples all blending into the inky black vacuum of space. So vast, so lonely. He understood why his father was so desperate to be with the Captain. His father loved the Captain, and this love banished the loneliness of eternal existence. He also knew that his father loved him. A lot. His father didn’t love his mother, nor did his mother love his father, but they got along. Most importantly, they both loved him. q smiled at the thought. His smile grew wider knowing that his mother approved of his father’s relationship with the Captain.

Voices and approaching footsteps startled the young q’s train of thought. Coming around the corner of the corridor was most of the senior staff. Amongst the small crowd the young q recognized many faces. There was the dark haired first officer, the yellow eyed android, the red headed doctor, the blind engineer, and the half-betazed counselor.

“-So when the new engineer started I thought he was just going to be another big shot who thought they knew everything but nothing could have prepared me for-” The first officer’s words were cut off when he caught a glimpse of q. The bearded man crouched down to q’s level. “Hey there buddy, where are your parents at?”

The boy looked up at Riker with a suspicious gleam in his dark eyes. Riker looked back to the others questioningly, unsure of what to do next.

Just as Riker was about to open his mouth, q replied quietly: “My mother is out there.” He pointed out to the stars.

Now the counselor took a step towards him. “Is she on another starship?” Her dark chocolate eyes seemed to be filled with warmth and compassion. q found he rather didn’t care for being looked at like that. As if he were some poor child who had lost everything. He shook his head and hoped that they would leave him be.

The crew once more looked at each other with growing concern. A young boy like this shouldn’t be out alone on a starship. “Where is your father then?” Troi asked, still using that gentle tone.

q was becoming very annoyed at this point. All he wanted to do was continue his exploration of the ship. “How should I know? It’s not my job to keep track of him. He’s probably kissing your Captain or some-” The young Q quickly caught his mistake and promptly closed his mouth. The crew gawked at him open mouthed and q could practically see their minds imploding upon themselves.

To add upon their bewilderment a sudden flash of white light, the signature flash of a well known omnipotent being. Q quickly flashed in next to the young boy, covered his child’s mouth with his hand, gave and embarrassed smile, and flashed out.

They all looked at each other for a moment in awe, then bolted to the captain’s ready room. The rest of the group was fast, but Riker, powered by undeniable rage, was faster. Riker burst into the ready room with the rest of the group right behind. “Q????!!!!! REALLY???!!!! OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN THIS UNIVERSE, Q????!!!!!!”

Picard stiffened and became visibly uncomfortable. He tried to listen but his mind was racing. How did they know? How did they know? How did they- “Captain,” Deanna began calmly. “We all are happy for you-”

“HAPPY? DEANNA THIS IS-” Riker was quickly cut off by the counselor.

Deanna continued in a somewhat more irritated tone. “We’re all happy that you’ve found someone, but we all wish we had been aware of your relationship with Q. We understand your need for privacy, but due to the subject of your secrecy we just wish-”

“I understand Counselor and I’m very sorry that you didn’t hear about it directly from me. If you don’t mind my asking, how did you find out?” The crew all looked at one another.

Beverly was the first to step forward. “Jean-luc, are…are you aware that Q has a child?” The crew held their breath. None of them knew about Q’s child before the encounter, and it would be just like Q to hide something like that. They also knew that the Captain wasn’t entirely comfortable around children.

“Ah, you must mean Junior. Yes I am fully aware of Q’s offspring. He’s a fine boy.” Picard gave a small smile at the thought of q. Meeting him had been an… Interesting experience, no doubt about that.

Then all of the crew (save Riker of course) eased a bit.

“Captain, if I am not invading your privacy of course, may I inquire as to how long you and Q have been in a romantic relationship?” Data paused a moment. “You are in a relationship of romantic nature with Q, correct Captain?”

Picard nodded his head in affirmation. “We’ve been seeing each other romantically for about a year now.”

“Captain,” Deanna started “Why did you keep it a secret for that long?”

Picard thought as to his answer a moment before replying: “I suppose I was afraid you all would have stopped trusting me or would begin to question my judgement.” He looked to the ground, ashamed of his thoughts.

“Jean-luc, we would never think less of you.” Beverly whispered, embracing Picard in a tight hug.

After everything had been explained, Picard went to his quarters, tired and emotionally drained. When he entered his quarters he was surprised to find Q sitting in his chair with Junior in his arms. q’s face was hidden in his father’s chest. Picard gave a small smile and walked over to his lover and his son. Picard gave his lover a quick kiss, then turned his attention to the problem at hand.

“Hello Junior.” He said softly. God why was he so awkward around the child?

q tensed up and shook slightly. Picard sighed, trying to find the best way of going about this.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Picard waited a bit for an answer and just when he was about to give up and ask again, Junior let out something of a sob.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out. They kept asking me all these questions and I just wanted to be left alone.” q continued his light sobbing for a few minutes while Q held him, attempting to calm his frightened child.

“Junior, it’s alright. I’m not angry… In a way I’m almost grateful.” Picard said, resisting the small urge to put a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder.

q lifted his head from Q’s chest to look at Picard. “You’re not mad?” He sniffled.

Picard gave a small smile. “No, I’m not mad. I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell my crew, but it would appear that you’ve taken care of that for me.”

q wiped away another stray tear. “Really?”

“Really.”

It was then that a bright, white flash appeared at the opposite end of the room. In place of the flash stood a tall woman with red hair. “Well it seems we got that cleared up. q, did you learn your lesson?” The small boy nodded solemnly. The woman smiled. “Then I think it’s time we returned to the continuum.”

Junior looked up at Q, telepathically questioning if it was really time to go. Q kissed his forehead and the boy slipped out of his arms, and went over to his mother. Picard watched all of this in silence, knowing it was not his place. When it came to q and his mother, Picard often felt he had no business being Q’s mate at all. The boy was picked up by his mother and given a kiss on the cheek. Picard was about to turn away and go about his business, when Junior looked at him, smiled, then waved goodbye before flashing out with his mother.

Once they had gone, Picard gave a rather deep sigh of relief and headed over to the replicator. Every visit from Junior gave him a feeling of despair and self loathing. He was absolutely certain that Junior resented him. Who wouldn’t? He was probably the only thing keeping Q, from q’s mother.

It was then, in the darkest part of his thought process, that he felt a warm body against him, and long arms wrapped around him. “Q?” The Captain felt his semi-omnipotent lover smile into his neck.

“Junior really likes you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

[jump-on-winds-back]

Trick or Treat? :)

So this is horrifically late (so late that it’s almost christmas and I’m just writing your halloween gift now). But I’m going to take advantage of the timing and write you a bit of a treat (with angst, ah sorry) canon divergence for around ch. 177! Have pity on me, since I haven’t written fic for this fandom in over like, two years or something crazy like that. Have I mentioned that I love you lately? Here’s a fic to prove it!

Title: Your Heart Will Remember

Pairing: Mikan and Natsume 

The Christmas season sucked. It sucked right from the first day of December to those few lingering days of January when people refused to toss their rotting trees for good. There was no reason to coerce an entire planet into “good tidings and cheer” just for the sake of a holiday endorsed by consumerists. Natsume was fairly certain Christmas Eve in particular was meant to punish all those who couldn’t see their family and loved ones by rubbing the endless tinsel and stringed lights right in their faces. So he did what he did whenever he hated something.

He boycotted it.

In fact, he went to great lengths not to participate. He tried not to be an asshole about it- because if Luca and his other friends enjoyed it, who was he to piss on it? - but he did try to make it fairly clear that the night of the Christmas Ball, he did not want to be disturbed. His friends, wonderful as they were, were told to allow him a silent evening in his own room holiday-free. He didn’t want any presents, any cards, anything remotely festive.

They were disappointed, but they understood. All except Tsubasa, he supposed, who had broken and entered into Natsume’s room without so much as a knock on the door. Whoever taught him to lockpick needed to have their decision making skills reexamined.

“How much longer are you planning on sulking?” the shadow alice asked, breaking Natsume’s well-maintained silence.

“I’m not even going to ask how you got in,” Natsume replied, eyes still glued to the manga he was reading. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the silhouette of Tsubasa leaning against the doorframe. The shadow user was dressed for the ball. His usually unkempt hair was still locked in a vaguely classy fashion, and his clothes were still perfectly ironed: sure signs that he hadn’t made it to the party yet. Otherwise, he’d probably be a sweaty mess.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?”

“I’m pretty sure I can figure out why you’re here,” Natsume sighed, closing his book and placing it on the bed beside him. “You’re here to give me one of your heartwarming speeches about how it’s Christmas and if Mikan were here, she’d want me to go enjoy myself at the party. But I’m just not up for it tonight, so you can save your-”

“That’s actually not why I’m here,” Tsubasa argued, eyes narrowed. “Though, I hate to admit that it is a pretty good judge of my usual character.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To give you your present.”

Natsume frowned. Unless Tsubasa was carrying something in his pockets, he didn’t seem to have anything to give him. Besides, Natsume had told everyone a hundred times that he didn’t want anything.

“Look, I know what you said about presents, but I’ve had this idea for a while and I finally managed to get Nodacchi on board. Besides, it’s the sort of thing that if I kept it from you longer than I had to, you’d roast me.”

Natsume crossed his arms. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy under Tsubasa’s confident smirk.

“Come on, Hyuuga, you’ve trusted me before. You can do it again.”

“Fine,” Natsume stated reluctantly. “What have you brought me?”  

Tsubasa stepped into the room and started walking toward Natsume, who swung his legs so  that he was now sitting on the edge of the mattress. Tsubasa yanked the chair from Natsume’s desk, swung it around backwards so he could straddle it.

“It’s not what I’ve brought you, it’s where and when I’m going to bring you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve got a bit of my time travel alice left. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of it, because it’s not the type of alice I want to hold onto, you know?” Tsubasa explained.

“Get to the point,” Natsume said. He watched as Tsubasa took a hand from his pocket, closed his eyes, and clenched his hand. When he opened his palm, a pea-sized, blue colored stone sat in the middle. He held it out to Natsume, who accepted the cold crystal into his own grasp.

“I thought to myself, what would I go back in time to see? But really, I’ve seen everything I’ve needed to. And then you came to mind, Natsume, because I think there are a few things that you missed out on. Somebody you didn’t get a proper goodbye with.”

Natsume stared down in awe at the stone, then shot his eyes back up to his friend. He was quiet for a moment, unsure if he should accept the present, or if he should heed the warning from his intuition that said this was too good to be true.

“That would ruin the time continuum,” he said finally, reaching out to hand the stone back. Tsubasa nudged his hand away.

“Not if you’re careful. If you’ve got the alice inside you, time will let you through to wherever and whenever you want to be. It’s how Nodacchi has seen most of history and the universe hasn’t imploded. The real trick is making sure you pick a time and a place that won’t influence the future. Lucky for you, I’ve done all the hard work already.”

“Oh yeah?”

“The day of Mikan’s graduation, just as she’s about to leave her room for the last time. Everyone was gone from the dorms because they were outside waiting for her. And it won’t influence the future because, well...they erase her memories a few minutes later anyways.”

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

Tsubasa shrugged. “I didn’t want to give it to you only to have it put you in danger. Besides, you wouldn’t have known when the right time to visit was anyways because you weren’t there that day.”

“What happens if I run out of the alice and can’t get home?”

“You won’t.”

“Tsubasa…” Natsume warned.

“You won’t, I promise.”

Natsume rolled the alice stone around in his hand for a few seconds, his mind feeling a bit numb. He’d spent the entire month dreading this day, not looking forward to the constant reminders of how dreary this Christmas would be spent without the one person he wanted to see. Then Tsubasa had shown up at his door and put a miracle in his hand like it was nothing.

Natsume didn’t believe in christmas magic, but this was pretty damn close. Maybe he could still be convinced.

“Okay,” he decided quietly.

“Really?” Tsubasa said hopefully.

“What? Did you really think I would pass up a chance to see Mikan?”

“I had my doubts there for a second,” Tsubasa chuckled with a shrug.

Natsume closed his fingers around the alice stone, and let his eyes fall closed. It was effortless, picturing Mikan’s chestnut hair with those golden, auburn streaks and the smile that seemed to reach every inch of her face, glimmering sunlight in her eyes. An ache clutched his heart, throbbing his nerves as he felt the need to see her become overwhelming.

When he opened his hand again, the stone was gone, and he felt a new power thrumming in his veins just begging to be unleashed. It was faint, much weaker than the power he once felt from his fire alice, but it was still there.

“How do you feel?” Tsubasa asked cautiously, eyeing the way Natsume stared down at himself in amazement.

“A bit like I’m going to be sick.”

“Get it out now so you don’t throw up all over your fiance,” Tsubasa laughed. He waited with an encouraging smile on his face, probably relishing in the genuine flash of elation in the fire alice’s red eyes. “I’ll stay here to make sure you get back alright, otherwise, I’ll send Noda.”

“You really think this is going to work?” Natsume asked. He felt his hands begin to shake, his fingertips itching to reach, touch, release the pent up power.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Tsubasa urged. “Now remember:  Mikan’s graduation day just before she leaves her room.”

Natsume rose to his feet, paced a few feet away to where the chilly winter breeze swept in through his cracked window, and closed his eyes. With a gentle inhale, he imagined her flowery, fruity scent and the sound of her laughter. Then, repeating the day of her graduation, before I came back, just before she leaves her room over and over again, Natsume let the power of the alice stone sweep him away.

For once, the hallway was empty. With her suitcase clutched in her hands, Mikan peered into the dorm corridor, listening for any sound of her friends nearby. Instead, she was left alone with the silence.

This is it, Mikan thought as a heaviness settled in her chest. She felt it drop into the pit of her stomach, weighing down her movement. It wasn’t just saying goodbye to this home that chipped away at her heart. It was leaving the people that she had to face with a smile, it was not seeing the people that she wanted to say goodbye to most, but couldn’t. The two people that mattered the most. There was only so much strength she had left. Soon enough, it would be over.

Her memories would be gone and so would she.

Inhaling a sharp breath and closing her bedroom door behind her, Mikan blinked back the pooling tears and turned to leave. She’d only made it a few steps when she heard footsteps coming closer down the hall. Her instincts caused her to pause as the person rounded the corner. For some reason, even before the person showed his face, her heart breathed a sigh of relief.

When she saw who it was, the suitcase slipped from her hands and dropped onto the floor.

“Natsume?” she said, tears choking her voice.

It was him, though. It was definitely him. The unmistakable strength of his shoulders, the silkiness of his hair, the raw emotion that pooled in the scarlet of his eyes. There was no one else they could have belonged to. He seemed older almost, and all his wounds were gone.

“Mikan,”  he whispered in a reverent prayer. The relief at seeing him alive swarmed over her, overwhelming her senses, but it was different for him somehow. He looked as if he might cry, like looking at her was both painful and healing at the same time.

They staggered toward one another, then collapsed into each other’s arms with a warm embrace. Mikan’s legs crumbled from beneath her, but Natsume was there to gather her in his strong arms and lower her to her knees. Tears blocked her vision from seeing clearly, but she could feel him everywhere else. His arms were wrapped around her as strong as he could hold without hurting her. The sweet scent of burnt spices filled her nose as she breathed him in, and it reminded her days she wanted to hold onto forever. Holding him against her ached so sweetly, so wonderfully.

“You’re alive, you’re okay,” Mikan mumbled into his neck, holding on as tightly as she could. “You came back to me. Oh Natsume, I was so worried.”

One of his hands held her at her back, pressing her close to his chest, the other stroked her hair, smooth and soft. He could feel the wetness of her tears on his shoulder, and it made him feel his own tears prickling in the back of his throat.

“I told you I would come back to you.”

Mikan leaned back, taking Natsume’s face in her gentle hands and began to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. Tingles erupted beneath his skin at her touch, but he leaned into it, cherishing feeling of it.

“When I saw you lying there not breathing…” Mikan took a shaky breath. “Natsume, you were gone. I’ve never been so terrified before.”

“Me too,” he admitted, turning his head into her hand and pressing a kiss against her palm. Then, he dropped his forehead to hers, feeling her trembling breaths on his lips. “Mikan, I know what’s going to happen today.”

“You do?”

Natsume nodded.

“I came here from a few years in the future. The me from this time hasn’t returned to the academy yet.”  Mikan’s face dropped, her grip tightened on his shirt. “But I’m okay. I make it back and I get better.”

“You act as though you’re just seeing me for the first time since before it all happened.”

He said nothing and Mikan bit back a sob. She tugged him back into her arms again, hand sliding through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, Natsume. I never wanted it to turn out like this.”

“You’re safe and that’s the most important thing. If something had happened to you…” He nearly flinched at the thought.

“That’s how it was for me this whole time,” Mikan said, peering up at him with a teary smile. “But here you are, safe and alive with me right now. You were always looking out for me, weren’t you? Even when I didn’t know it, you were always with me.”

Natsume nodded, hoping that the Mikan without her memories of him carried a bit of him in her heart too.

“I’d go with you today if I could. I’d follow you anywhere.”

Mikan wanted it too. He could tell by the way she snuggled further into his arms and nuzzled closer against his neck. But there was something more, too.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

There was a moment of silence, then she sat back onto her haunches and reached for his hands. She pulled their joined hands up to her lips and pressed a long kiss to his knuckles, tears from her cheeks dripping onto his skin. Her hands around his trembled as she blew out a shaky breath.

“I’m so scared, Natsume,” she admitted quietly. “I’m trying not to be, but I’m terrified.”

Natsume lifted his palm to caress the side of her head, trying to knead away the tension that pooled in her eyes. It was exhausting to put on a constant show of strength for the sake of others. He knew better than anyone, and he wanted more for Mikan.

“I can’t tell you much, but I can tell you that we will always be watching over you. I would never let anything happen to you, you can count on that. You may not be able to see us, but we’ll always protect you. I will always protect you, just like I promised.”

She smiled at that, a small, sad thing. Then she did something that surprised him. She leaned over and closed the distance between them. His arms were around her instantly as he dissolved into her kiss. Each sweep of her lips on his was tender and full of longing for more time. A sigh fell from her lips, and Natsume took advantage, stealing control and chasing his lips over hers. He kissed her and kissed her until she broke away to breathe.

“I love you, Natsume, and that will never change,” she said resolutely, gaze locked in his. “Do you believe me?” He nodded, blinking a few times to clear his vision.

“I believe you,” he replied, then dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “I love you too. More than anything.”

“We’re going to be okay,” Mikan said without a single doubt.

“We are,” Natsume agreed. He just hoped he’d be okay without her until that day came. He would have to be, for her sake.

“Miss Sakura, are you almost ready?” a voice called from down the nearby staircase. The confidence in her expression disappeared, replaced by panic as she realized they couldn’t stay here forever. She swiped at her face, furiously trying to brush aside her tears, but news ones dripped down in their place.

“Coming! I just need another minute,” she called back. Natsume didn’t have to be told what came next.  He helped her to her feet, and placed her suitcase in her awaiting hand. The nerves in his body felt numb, and he begged time to stop, to give him more time, but time moved forward anyways.

Mikan stared up at him, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know what to say, either. What words could ease her worries, soothe her pain, and express just how much her existence meant to him.

So instead he said, “This is it.”

“Only for a little while, right?”

“Right.” He hoped it wouldn’t be a lie. Looking down at her, he saw the yearning in her expression, and for once, it was something he could give her. He lifted her chin, and placed one last kiss on her lips. He memorized what they tasted like - strawberry, and a bit salty from her tears - and the tenderness of the way she kissed him back without hesitation.

When she pulled away, her gaze lingered on his eyes before she said, “I’ll always wait for you, Natsume.” Just before she turned away, he grabbed her wrist.

“Never stop smiling, okay?”

Following his instructions, a warm grin lit her face. It was the kind she only saved for him, the ones he earned because of her love for him.

“You got it!”

Then she turned and headed toward the stairwell. Just before she was out of sight, she turned back and waved. Natsume’s limbs were heavy, but he managed to lift his hand and give her a smile. As soon as she was gone, Natsume leaned against the wall and sunk to the ground. His head fell back against the wall, and he closed his eyes, her voice still ringing in his ears as loudly as if she had never left.

He sat there until he heard voices at the other end of the hallway, and then with a sigh of resignation, Natsume went home.

Tsubasa was still waiting for him when he got back, and Natsume was thankful when the shadow alice didn’t comment on the fact that he probably looked like hell. The last traces of the time travel alice had disintegrated from his system, but fortunately he had made it back without causing some sort of global catastrophe.

“Well? How did it go?” Tsubasa asked cautiously. When Natsume didn’t answer, glazed eyes still staring into his own thoughts, Tsubasa rose to his feet and placed a hand on his Natsume’s shoulder. “Hey pal, are you alright?”

Instead of answering, Natsume lifted his own hand and covered Tsubasa’s on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Tsubasa.”

[whatsgodgottodowithreligion-blog]

Will The Circle Be Unbroken?

In the chapter titled “The Steeple And The Damage Done”, I discuss the myriad sins of the Catholic Church - not only has the church marginalized, demonized and otherwise ostracized many of its believers/followers, it has turned a blind eye to many societal atrocities: from Wounded Knee to the Crusades, from The Inquisition to the Holocaust (the Vatican’s unholy ties to the Third Reich during WWII have been widely chronicled) to its ignoble history of sexual abuse by church clergy. Singer Sinead O’Connor’s seismic episode of tearing up the picture of Pope John Paul II on SNL over twenty-five years ago was viewed as not only heretical, but disrespectful, and an unfair indictment of the Catholic Church. Of course, genuine heretics always show us what we are unwilling to see, and so, O’Connor’s brave gesture (bolstered by her own memories of being abused in her childhood) turned her into a pariah overnight - essentially imploding her musical career over a ‘crusade’ no one was ready to lobby for.

Frankly, scandals involving sexual impropriety by church clergy have always been the elephant in the sacristy - one only has to objectively examine the timeline of sex abuse within the Catholic church and its subsequent denial by church hierarchy to see that periodically, the general public becomes outraged to hear of priests having inappropriate sexual contact with children and/or adolescents of church members. And similarly, we are told that someone (or likely everyone) within the church hierarchy was aware of this abuse, but either turned a blind eye, or cloaked themselves in denial of having any foreknowledge of such abuse occurring within their midst. Media exploitation (motivated by both perverse titillation and viewer ratings) spurs on charges, litigation and frequently, prosecution of those trespassers. And since we, as a society are ‘all about the children”, those who have been exposed as pedophiles become the devil incarnate, and looked upon as the lowest form of human life.

But while we revel in self-righteous condemnation and demonization of sex abusers, we fail to recognize that both the abuser and the abused are broken souls in need of healing. I remember listening to a talk by Ken Keyes, Jr, author of the personal transformation tome, The Handbook To Higher Consciousness. He began by stating the basic truth that all our actions and behaviors as human beings are motivated by a desire to either gain love or to compensate for a lack of love. All the attendees to his lecture were in agreement. Once they had accepted this ‘truth’, he then challenged them to see it in a situation that made many uncomfortable: “What about the child molester?” he asked, “Isn’t the child molester trying to gain love?” Few in the audience had the understanding to explore the truth in that statement - after all, we are conditioned to view the world through our dichotomies placed upon it: good/evil, right/wrong, righteous/heinous. We cannot accept the idea that even in the context of such sin, behind that sin is a person trying to fulfill a basic emotional need, a need all human beings have - to feel loved and validated.

Like O’Connor, I have a backstory of abuse - psychological, physical and sexual, and like O’Connor I think the Catholic Church needs to confront the devastating cycle of abuse and denial that continues to damage the souls of those who put their faith in religion and God by way of its pastorate. However, I go one step further to say that both parties are in need of ministering to. I realize this puts me in the minority, but then, I have a bigger understanding of the cycle, or the circle that remains unbroken when we fail to look at the dynamics of abuse. Psychologists and psychiatrists have long pointed out that if we were to look at the backstory of the abuser, we find that somewhere in that continuum, the abuser began as the abused. 

One of the most important elements of my own healing journey was to take a sobering look at the upbringing of those who parented me - partly in a search for answers, but also to gain a better understanding as to what would make someone who was responsible for bringing me into existence treat me like I didn’t deserve to be alive. I learned that my mother’s dad was an alcoholic and her mother didn’t have much time for her; my dad was raised by his grandmother, after his birth mother ran off and abandoned him - she bore a child out of wedlock, and had no intention of saddling herself with a child and no husband to help raise him. My great grandmother was a proud Cherokee woman, but she also harbored some extreme ideas about discipline and child-rearing that manifested itself in some horrific beatings visited upon my father.

If a child, any child, who seeks love, acceptance and validation from his parent receives instead anger, violence and criticism, how exactly is that child able to have anything resembling a healthy self concept? And without that self-concept, what can that adult child bring to the table in terms of being a nurturing parent for their children? I was one of seven siblings - I find it nothing short of miraculous to think that two people so devoid of personal examples of love and compassion by their caregivers could ever give out what little emotional resources they had at their disposal to effectively raise seven children into healthy, responsible and caring adults - the harsh reality is, it’s not possible. And I can see the outcomes of such an environment played out in the stories of my adult siblings - which is why, I was not shocked when my sister (the eldest sibling) dropped out of college and left home to join the Army, marry a fellow serviceman (who surprise, turned out to be both an abusive alcoholic and a womanizer) and wind up a widow when one of his many mistresses shot him to death.

Will the circle be unbroken?

Which brings us to the latest sex abuse scandals rocking the Catholic Church and the Vatican, some twenty-eight years after Sinead O’Connor’s public protest against clergy abuse and complicity on national tv. Last week, in light of recent allegations of sexual abuse by two (now retired) Chilean bishops, Pope Francis expelled both Francisco Cox (84) and Marco Antonio Ordenes Fernandez (53) from the Chilean Diocese - their defrocking was one step below total ex-communication, but was no less punitive in the eyes of church canon law. A day before Pope Francis’ announcement, he accepted the resignation of Cardinal Donald Wuerl, considered up until that time a fierce advocate for victims of clerical abuse, but whose own history was rife with instances of foreknowledge of abusive priests during his tenure as bishop of Pittsburgh - a Pennsylvania grand jury report scathingly outlined a well-documented timeline of abuse spanning over several decades under Wuerl’s watch. 

In Cardinal Wuerl’s case however, The Pope was considerably more merciful: he accepted the resignation, praised Wuerl for putting “the good of the church before himself”, let him stay on until his replacement was chosen, and allowed the Cardinal to keep his influential offices inside the Vatican. Apparently canon law has a different set of tenets than American law, where if you have knowledge of someone committing crimes and you look the other way rather than reporting it, you are essentially an accomplice to that crime. Perhaps what’s even more troublesome is the official response by Pope Francis to the current spotlight on sexual abuse by clerics:

"The Church must be saved from the attacks of the malign one, the great accuser and at the same time be made ever more aware of its guilt, its mistakes, and abuses committed in the present and the past." Pope Francis wrote. In addition, he implored parishioners to recite a daily rosary during the entire month of October, ending with this petition to St. Michael: “St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou, O Prince of heavenly hosts, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan, and all evil spirits, who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls." In other words, errant clergy have been overtaken by evil - specifically the Devil, and that prayer and vigilance are needed to restore the Catholic Church to its status of holy impunity. 

But if indeed the sin of sexual abuse is being acted upon by clerics possessed by some evil entity, why no mention of exorcism? Such a solution is in perfect alignment with the ideology of spiritual warfare - we are at war with Satan. Satan must be rebuked. Therefore, wouldn’t it be possible for these pedophiles to be redeemed through some sort of exorcism, or intervention of the Holy One to vanquish Satan from their once forthright souls? I am not saying this to be facetious - I am saying this because at least the idea of exorcism allows for some measure of atonement, redemption and reconciliation, which is a whole lot better than just damning abusive clergy to Hell. Perhaps the biggest tragedy in all this is the presumption that the abuser is beyond saving - that the crime is so outrageous, such a blatant atrocity, that the only action required is condemnation, conviction and incarceration. 

I am not dismissing the idea that in terms of sexual predators, the instance of recidivism is high, and perhaps so deeply ingrained in the psyche of the abuser that rehabilitation is impossible - yet I am told (constantly by those quoting scripture) that nothing is impossible with God. So is that just another holy platitude I need to discard? Are some souls too damaged to be saved, under any circumstances? And what about forgiveness? Victims of abuse will never heal completely as long as they hold onto anger, resentment and hatred toward the abuser - forgiveness is always done for the benefit of the wronged, not the violator. But some things are unforgivable, they say. Forgiveness condones the abuser, they say. The abuser is evil and should be stoned to death, locked up and raped in a penal environment, stoned and set ablaze, etc. etc. Why bother examining the culture of forced celibacy dispensation, repressed sexual feelings and desires, the eunuch paradigm which fosters shame, guilt and self-loathing? No one is born a sexual predator, but why waste time looking into how pedophiles are born?

The two things which allow the circle to remain unbroken are denial and a lack of compassion for both the victim and the victimizer. We can talk all day about good and evil and how folks are beyond saving, but at the end of the day, what will help not only those adversely affected by sexual abuse, but those who seek out sexually abusive behavior in a desperate but wholly inappropriate search for love and approval? If we are unwilling to ask these questions and look earnestly for answers, nothing will change. Abusers will abuse, the circle will remain unbroken, as will the cycle of suffering. Only until we see the truth in their mutual suffering, will we have any hope of reconciliation and healing.