1 /5 Rocio Desouza: I want to share something that happened to me on Easter Sunday—an experience that left me humiliated, heartbroken, and questioning how someone representing Christ could behave in such an un-Christlike way.
I was hired as a photographer for a First Communion at Church St. Maurice. The families asked me to take both group and family photos and to respectfully capture key moments during the mass. Before the ceremony began, I spoke with the woman who hired me to make sure I understood where I was allowed to stand so I wouldn’t cause any disruption.
Despite taking every step to be respectful and discreet, the priest suddenly yelled at me—during the mass, in front of the entire congregation—demanding that I “sit.” I was stunned, embarrassed, but I immediately sat down and complied without a word. I had no intention of creating a scene and only wanted to complete the work I was hired to do with dignity.
But it didn’t end there.
Later in the mass, while I was already seated quietly in the pews, the priest pointed at me again and brought up the earlier incident—this time using me as an example in front of everyone. I was shocked. I hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved, hadn’t done a single thing to warrant being called out again. At that point, I was overwhelmed and left the church in tears.
What hurt the most wasn’t just the public humiliation. It was the bitter irony of it all. This happened in a church, on Easter Sunday, led by someone whose role is to embody Christ’s teachings—compassion, humility, grace, love. But what I experienced was judgment, pride, and cruelty. Christ never shouted at those trying to serve. He welcomed them. He met people where they were, with kindness and mercy.
I came with nothing but good intentions and professionalism. I left feeling shamed and broken by someone who should have been a vessel of peace.
If you’re searching for a church home, I sincerely hope you choose a place where Christ’s teachings are lived out not just in words, but in action. Where people are treated with dignity, and love is practiced—not just preached.
