Abuse and the Church: Stephen Uley’s “The Sum of Everything”. reconsidering. – culture

In the ranking of problematic characters, the pedophile priest is probably at the top of the list. No one likes to identify with him as a reader or viewer, nor does he have a wonderfully sinister whiff about him as many criminals who are equally attractive and revolting. One’s thoughts are immediately drawn to the most shameful mistreatment of the Catholic Church, to the catastrophic cover-up, to the immense pain that an institution inflicts on its weakest. Nothing about the character is great, but a lot is repulsive.

At the center are the adventures of a pedophile priest Stephen Uley in his novel The Sum of the All., which is published by Separatist Publishing. He sets himself the almost impossible task of tracing the thoughts and feelings of the protagonist in such a way that we can understand them and not grow out of it, or feel so disgusted with him or ourselves that we have a moment of approval with him.

Of course, the most comfortable way is to tell such a story from the side of the victim. It is easy to sympathize with the victims, but Uhly obviously has no desire to make himself comfortable. Not because he wants to use the novel to promote a different view that “pedophiles have feelings too” (although that is true of course), but perhaps because he enjoys the challenge.

And to make it short: he does it. At 156 pages, Uhly shows a room drama from the corners of confession and the darker corners of the human psyche that unfold into a thrilling story. In the center stands Padre Roque de Guzmán, who is 50 years old. He pursues what appears to be a comfortable priestly life on the outskirts of Madrid, directing a boys’ choir and tending his flock at the confessional every day, appealing to their consciences and muttering their phrases of forgiveness. They are simple sinners: one beats his wife, the other goes to prostitutes. Guzmán sympathizes with her, encouraging her to repent, until, and so the story begins, this angry man appears in confession. “I have a teacher…” he stammers and stutters, but you can guess how the sentence must have continued.

Isn’t this about love? Is it not made by God?

A two-way conversation unfolds in the intimate anonymity of the confession between Padre Guzmán and the “sinner” Lucas Hernandez, who has come by almost every day since then. He still hasn’t done anything that could be prosecuted, but even his thoughts of the teacher are sinful, he knows that. His despair increases every day, as he feels “pity for those who have fallen into a natural disaster.” and “The Badir listens anxiously. He does not want to see the images which the sinner conjures up with his words, but listens with a pure heart.”

In these dark conversations, my family continues to wonder about guilt, its beginning, and the possibility of forgiveness. It soon becomes apparent that Padre and Hernandez are battling the same demons. Padre has taken refuge behind church dogma for his protection, and Hernandez is looking for loopholes: Isn’t this about love? Is it not made by God? “And lead us into temptation,” says a new translation of the Lord’s Prayer that has been under discussion for several years. Experience is real and acceptable as long as you don’t rush into it blindly and let God guide you.

Open the detailed view

The fact that sin as a principle threatens religion is one that a secular society can do less and less about doesn’t make the story any less interesting, and “The Sum of the Whole” reads excellently as a mind game about guilt, responsibility, and human freedom. Especially against the backdrop of a very real crisis in the Church, in which every confrontation with theological sin and also with real canonical guilt has been avoided for too long. Uhly writes of Padre Guzmán: “He sometimes feels that sin itself is not the deciding factor, but this inner conflict that it causes”, one could also replace “sin” with “guilt” here.

But even the daring Stephen Uley doesn’t quite dare to stay entirely with the sinners and their dark desires, which is almost a shame, one would have liked to have known how to pull it off, two pedophiles in confession. A twist in the story, almost Hollywood, suddenly unlocks a new narrative level. It softens the reader’s displeasure at spending so much time with problematic characters, but it’s also a trick by Uhly to deflect the problem of a pedophile hero in an uncomplicated way. Suffice it to say: justice prevails. Also this: The Lord’s Prayer will not suffice here.