Why Renounce?

In 2023, the documentary series Godvergeten shook Belgium. For the first time, the scale of sexual abuse within the Catholic Church was laid bare on national television. The public response was visceral: 14,251 people formally renounced their baptism that year, a number so far above the usual annual average of roughly 1,200 that it amounted to a national statement.

Then the wave receded. In 2024, the number dropped to 4,780. The outrage cooled. People moved on. The abuse didn’t.

We at BASTA! believe this trend can and must be reversed.

The Barrier Is Practical, Not Moral

Most people who want to renounce simply don’t know how. Even among our small group of 15 survivors who met Pope Francis personally, we heard of people running into trouble: letters sent to the wrong parish, incomplete information, requests lost in bureaucratic limbo. If it is that difficult for people who have met the Pope, imagine the experience for an ordinary citizen.

The Church has no incentive to make renunciation easy. There is no online form, no central point of contact, no clear instruction. You need to identify the parish where you were baptised, often decades ago, write a formal letter, and send it by post. Many give up before they start.

That is why we are building an easy-to-use tool that guides you step by step: find your parish, fill in your details, and download a ready-to-send letter. We want to remove every practical obstacle between the decision and the act.

Why It Matters

Some dismiss renunciation as purely symbolic, a note in a dusty parish register. It is far more than that.

It is a message to the Church. Every name removed reduces the number the Church uses to claim relevance. In Belgium, the Catholic Church still presents itself as the faith of the majority, yet weekly Mass attendance has collapsed to single-digit percentages. Renunciation closes that gap. It forces honesty.

It is a message to the state. Belgium’s political structures still grant the Catholic Church an outsized role in education, healthcare, and public life, influence rooted in historical numbers that no longer reflect reality. When tens of thousands formally walk away, it strengthens the case for a clear separation of Church and state and for reducing the footprint of an institution that has proven itself morally bankrupt in its handling of abuse.

It is a message to survivors. Every renunciation tells victims: you are believed, your suffering matters, and society will not look away.

From Godvergeten to Brief aan de Paus

Godvergeten exposed the scale of abuse but focused primarily on Flanders. The upcoming documentary Brief aan de Paus, airing March 3 on CANVAS, goes further. It asks what has actually changed. It crosses the language border. It gives survivors a voice again. The answer, from where we stand, is that very little has changed. Our letters to the Holy See document this in full.

Beyond Belgium

Clerical abuse is not a Belgian problem. The same patterns of abuse, cover-up, delay, and hollow promises have been documented in Ireland, France, Germany, Australia, the United States, and many other countries. We believe renunciation should become an international movement. The Church understands numbers. Let us give them numbers they cannot dismiss.

What We Ask

Consider renouncing your baptism. Not out of hatred for faith or for the many good people within the Church, but as an act of accountability. The institution that baptised you has failed to protect children, failed to compensate survivors, and failed to reform itself. Your name in its register is used to justify its continued influence.

We are building a tool to guide you through the process. If you have already renounced, you will soon be able to certify your renunciation on our platform. Every renunciation strengthens the demand for justice.

14,251 was a beginning. Not a peak.