Any Other Church Acting Like This Would Have Been Bulldozed to the Ground Long Ago

"I ran home shaking like a dog. I had wee short trousers on

 and the shite was running down my leg.

 My mum and my auntie had to wipe me down."

As the Cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church met in conclave in the Vatican to select a new pope, 62-year old Scot, Pat McEwan, related how his parish priest raped him when he was just eight years old.

The juxtaposition of those two images: the powerful institution that represents 1.2 billion Catholics and the abused child, tells the story of a church with two faces: one public and one private. Last month, the church was plunged into crisis when the Observer revealed that three priests and one ex-priest had complained to the Papal Nuncio about Cardinal Keith O'Brien, Archbishop of St Andrews and Edinburgh. The cardinal, who publicly decried homosexuals as degenerate, had, they said, privately been making advances to his own priests for years. But the story was never about one man. It wasn't about personal weakness. Keith O'Brien was merely a symptom of a wider sickness: an institution that chooses cover-up as its default position to conceal moral, sexual and financial scandal.

This was not paedophilia but it was an abuse of power – a man in authority acting inappropriately to young seminarians and priests under his control. It was made clear that a full sexual relationship had been involved. Yet there were attempts to cloud his behaviour in moral ambiguity. First, there was denial. The cardinal "contested" the allegations. A day after publication, he resigned. The next week, he issued a statement admitting his sexual conduct "as a priest, a bishop and a cardinal" had fallen short. Many ignored what that confirmed about the extent and duration of his behaviour: he was made cardinal in 2003.

Next, came obfuscation, with the church claiming it did not know the substance of the allegations, despite being given written notice before publication. Then, anger and the minimising of wrongdoing – the cardinal had been destroyed for mere "drunken fumblings" from 30 years ago. Why, he had probably been to confession and received absolution. But most revealing of all was the attempt to turn the spotlight on the complainants' motivation, to blame the accusers rather than the accused. It has been a familiar pattern in Catholic abuse cases over the years.

Two concepts are critical to understanding church behaviour. The first is "scandalising the faithful". Traditionally, the hierarchy believed the greatest sin was shaking the faith of Catholic congregations. Protecting them meant concealing scandal. Adopting that as your moral standpoint means anything goes. You can cover up sexual misconduct from those you demand sexual morality from. You can conceal financial corruption from those who put their pounds in the collection plate. You can silence the abused and protect the abuser. Guilt about sacrificing individuals is soothed by protecting something bigger and more significant – the institution.

The second concept is "clericalism", a word used to describe priests' sense of entitlement, their demand for deference and their apparent conformity to rules and regulations in public, while privately behaving in a way that suggests the rules don't apply to them personally. (O'Brien was, in that sense, a classic example.) The Vatican is an independent state; the Holy See a sovereign entity recognised in international law and governed by the Pope. The Nunciature operates like government embassies in different countries worldwide. It is even governed by its own rules: Canon Law. All this contributes to the notion that the church can conduct its own affairs without interference or outside scrutiny. It demands a voice in society without being fully accountable to it.

All my life I've listened to people defend and apologize for this church.   They've had decades, generations, probably centuries to clean up their spiritual charnel house but with every scandal it's obvious there is a cloistered, predatory, criminal enterprise at large here.   Enough.