Taking Back the Truth

I watched a wonderful/horrible movie last night -- The Magdalene Sisters. It's a fictionalized account of what actually went on in the so called Magdalene Laundries. Originally established as a haven for prostitutes, they were taken over by the Catholic Church and gradually became more and more prison-like. Not only were prostitutes confined there, but so were the mentally challenged, the sexually abused/raped, and those deemed simply too flirtatious. Generally admitted against their will, they were forced into hard physical labor in order to pay for their "sins," and thus save their souls. Some stayed on for life, since it was difficult to run away and few had a man willing to come and set them free.

I found this movie hugely disturbing. In fact, I didn't sleep much last night, just trying to process it. Kaitlyn watched some of it with me and was horrified. Until then, she had never realized what atrocities Christians often commit in the name of God. My children, interestly enough, often win awards at school for character -- most notably, responsibility and (recently, for Alex) integrity. They are definitely not perfect children, by any stretch of the imagination. But they are good kids, eager to learn and full of life. They've never experienced the fear that so many Christians use to shape their children (and, quite frankly, their adults). And I am determined that they never will.

What was it Jesus said? "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:10) I can only think that when he looks around and sees people beating themselves up the way we do when he has already paid the price, he must just want to cry.

My sisters and I all have clear cut symtoms of post traumatic stress syndrome because of being raised (by loving and well meaning parents) under this cloak of fear. Our minds and spirits are so warped that it has been a long and deliberate struggle for us to determine that this stops here. Our children will not know this fear. They will not. They cannot. They must not.

And so we go to therapy. And we talk to each other. And we write (well, I do!). And we force ourselves to watch movies like The Magdalene Sister, which remind us that we are not alone, even if the reminder is harrowing. We read books, like Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel and Philip Yancey's The Jesus I Never Knew. (Click here and here to read more about these writers who have changed my life in the last year and a half by their genuine, unapologetic love for Jesus.) And we heal because, after all, that is what Jesus was all about.