"When the altar blames the miniskirt!" Perhaps it is celibacy, not women, that needs a confession

Six Catholic priests suspended as bishop cracks down on misconduct.[iStockphoto]

There is an old village tale about a hyena caught feasting on a farmer's goats. Dragged before the elders, the beast defended itself with remarkable confidence.

"The little goats smelled too delicious," it protested.

The elders laughed.

Nobody believed the aroma was the problem. The problem was that a hyena, by its very nature, loves meat. Blaming the smell was merely decorating appetite with philosophy.

The Catholic Church today risks sounding like that unfortunate hyena.

For decades, scandal after scandal has emerged from rectories and parishes across the world. Priests father children. Others secretly raise families. Some maintain long affairs that remain hidden until DNA or inheritance disputes drag the sacred into courtrooms. In one notable Kenyan decision from Eldoret, a court affirmed that a child should not be punished for the circumstances of birth and is entitled to benefit from the father's estate. The law, thankfully, protects children even when religious vows fail.

Yet every fresh scandal is followed by another familiar chorus.

Women.

Women in short skirts.

Women with "dangerous charms."

Women who allegedly tempt priests.

One almost expects Eve to be summoned again as the prosecution's star witness.

But perhaps we are staring at the wrong end of the telescope.

The women sitting in the pews never took vows of celibacy. They never promised poverty. They never pledged obedience to ecclesiastical discipline. Those three solemn vows belong to priests and religious alone. Expecting ordinary congregants to carry responsibility for vows they never made is like blaming passengers when a pilot ignores the flight manual.

Scripture places responsibility where authority resides. "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded" (Luke 12:48). Leadership carries heavier accountability, not lighter excuses. Likewise, self-control is listed among the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23), not among optional spiritual electives.

Even St. Paul, writing with refreshing realism, acknowledged human nature without pretending temptation could be legislated away. "If they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry. For it is better to marry than to burn with passion" (1 Corinthians 7:9).

That is not rebellion against holiness. It is an admission that God created human beings, not marble statues.

Temptation visits judges, doctors, teachers, politicians, journalists, farmers and priests alike. The difference lies not in being tempted but in the disciplined choices one makes afterward. Free will remains one of God's greatest gifts! and greatest responsibilities.

Ironically, continually blaming women achieves something unintended. It grants extraordinary power to every self-proclaimed witchdoctor and seller of love potions. If every priestly fall is attributed to female magic, irresistible beauty or mysterious herbs, then perhaps the biggest beneficiaries are the roadside waganga whose businesses receive free advertising from the pulpit.

The joke circulating on social media captures public skepticism with uncomfortable humour. Some congregants now quip that if so many priests are supposedly vulnerable, perhaps they too deserve a chance to "experience the holy love." Satire, painful as it may be, often reveals where public confidence has begun to crack.

None of this is an argument against celibacy. Many priests live faithful, exemplary and deeply sacrificial lives. They deserve admiration rather than suspicion.

But when repeated scandals become routine, perhaps the question is no longer whether women are tempting priests.

Perhaps the deeper question is whether a discipline designed for saints should continue to be treated as if it were effortlessly sustainable for every ordinary man called to ministry.

The Church has never feared difficult conversations. It has survived empires, reformations and revolutions. Surely it can also courageously ask whether a law of discipline (not a doctrine of faith) deserves honest reflection in light of persistent human reality.

After all, blaming the smell has never changed the appetite of the hyena.