Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God (2012) August 30, 2015
Directed by Alex Gibney
4 stars
Picture this: you’re a deaf child living in the late 1950’s-early 1960’s. You are currently in the St. John School for the Deaf in Milwaukee where many priests teach. You see a priest walking into a bedroom where the students all sleep. He sits beside you and starts acting very strange. He touches your face, strokes your hair, and tells you to stop by his office tomorrow night. There, he says, you must do certain acts that will enable you to be relieved of your sins. But what acts? He signals you to pull your pants down, or his. You are sweating profusely and thinking to yourself: he couldn’t have meant what I thought he meant.
Mea Maxima Culpa is a tragic but amazing documentary, one of the best I have ever seen. It starts by stating the facts of Father Murphy’s past sexual abuse on these four survivors, while later leading the picture to reveal how the Vatican protected not only Murphy, but every pedophile who wore white collars and black robes around the world. It is to be noted that the director, Alex Gibney, is a veteran of documentaries. But his triumph should be remembered by the heroism it took to portray the facts, just like the four victims had when they told their stories (Terry Kohut, Gary Smith, Pat Kuehn and Arthur Budzinski). We not only get to know the facts, but also try and grasp at the pain and frustration these brave boys experienced.
For decades, Murphy molested these kids. How can anyone recover from such heinous acts that were forced by a person who should be guiding you towards the path of righteousness? For most of these victims who had their whole lives ahead of them, they never did. Four in particular were interviewed (using sign language, while other well-known actors provided voices for them), but not a single voice can truly show the anger and sadness shown in their faces, their sole bodies revealing the tragedies they endured by someone who can be compared to the Devil.
The way the interviews are shot is a curious factor. The background is very dark with dark browns and blues to bring emphasis on each person. Yet, there is a light cast upon them that seems like natural light. It’s as if they are beside a window and outside it’s a cold, cloudy day (kind of like most winter days in Milwaukee). Almost like a faint light from Heaven above. Alas, not a bright and radiant one, but one where a cold and heartless world is felt with no sun, just grey clouds. It gives the impression that God and angels are watching, tears streaming on their faces and fall in the form of snow. And yet these survivors ask with rage and sorrow: why was no one there for us? We were robbed of happiness and faith as young children:, howHow can we restore what was robbed from us by a man so perverted? How can one of the biggest organizations in the world, with so much power, money, and secrecy among them, protect pedophiles and negate rape victims of their own agency?
Not all priests are pedophiles, but the fact remains that most remain silent on the subject. Silence is a form of acceptance. This is a subject raised as well: when people know these priests, like Father Murphy, and possess the power to actually stand up and act, yet do not move a finger. They just move on. Worse than this, the Vatican has protected them. I hope God is sympathizing with the horrors of the victims and anger towards those who have committed these sins to helpless youngsters. Silence is heard in the House of God: from deaf victims and others who have not come forward, to the wicked priests who rape and others who refuse to point them out. However, anything but silence is what these abused children have in their hearts and mind. What can only be heard are piercing cries for justice and truth that heard around the world. Gibney’s film is that voice.
