Monday, January 28, 2019

NCW Pilgrims In WYD

The NCW in Brisbane Australia consisted of Native-born pilgrims who came from Central and South America.  Coming to the World Youth Day in Panama brought some feelings of loss and redemption for these pilgrims.  The following article can be found here
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Old feelings of loss and redemption for native-born pilgrims returning to Americas for WYD

AS young Catholics from across Australia arrive in Central America en route to World Youth Day in Panama, some have spoken of an emotional homecoming – their families fled strife-torn Central America decades ago, and this is their first chance to return.
Other pilgrims have spoken of their hopes for coming face-to-face with Pope Francis and having a faith encounter amidst pilgrims from across the world.
For Sandra Pena, a 31-year-old Brisbane Catholic and a member of the city’s Neocatechumenal Way community, making her sixth WYD pilgrimage, this trip was “a dramatic moment” in her life.
Her family fled strife-torn El Salvador when she was four years old.
“My roots are in Central America and I have never been here before,” Ms Pena, who speaks fluent Spanish and is an experienced medical receptionist, said.
Several of her fellow young pilgrims are from families who fled El Salvador and have made a new life in Australia.
“I’m really looking forward to having an encounter with Christ because in this year I really feel like I’ve gone away from God, kind of lost my way,” Daniel Urbina, also making a pilgrimage with Brisbane’s Neocatechumenal community, said.
“I am hoping that God will speak to me and help me to find my direction by coming here.”
The World Youth Day gathering in Panama City, which opened on Tuesday and continues until today (January 27), will be the first time the event, first instituted by St John Paul II in 1985, will be held in Central America and likely the only opportunity for many of the region’s young adults and teenagers to catch a glimpse of Pope Francis, who arrived in Panama on Wednesday (January 23).
Ahead of arriving in Panama City, Mr Urbina, is travelling with Australia’s Neocatechumenal communities, first through Mexico and Costa Rica.
In Mexico the young pilgrims billeted with Catholic families in the city of Puebla, and visited the hilltop Our Lady of Miracles Church built over the top of an Aztec pyramid, and the archaeological wonder of Teotihuacan, the pyramids of the Sun and the Moon, and the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
Many of the young Catholics have attended past World Youth Days and have found it a life-changing experience.
“In Poland (WYD 2016) I really found the mercy of God and that Christ loved me,” Mr Urbina said.
“It was a great experience and I hope to have another experience like that.
“What really stuck out to me in Poland was the communion that we had with young people there.
“We got to meet a lot of people from other countries, and to see the joy people had, welcoming us to share the faith with other young people.
“It was really beautiful … in Australia, many times I feel alone following my faith – but there I saw a whole generation of young people who want to follow Christ.
“To me that was a really great experience to have.”
Australian pilgrims have experienced a few discomforts – ranging from lack of sleep, trials with bus schedules and diarrhoea – but they have also learnt of the far greater challenges faced by young Central Americans wanting to make their way to Panama City.
Nicaragua has been dealing with political and economic upheaval, some of it involving violent clashes with government forces that have plagued the Central American nation since last year.
“Some of the young Nicaraguans heading to (World Youth Day) have made extraordinary economic sacrifices, selling things, begging institutions for help, because it’s a unique opportunity,” 25-year-old Nicaraguan journalist Israel Gonzalez Espinoza told Catholic News Service.
Past World Youth Day gatherings have taken place in Spain, Poland, Brazil, the Philippines, the United States and other countries that have been cost-prohibitive to Central American youth, many who are now excited about their physical proximity to the upcoming celebration.
Nicaragua’s deteriorating economic and political situation, was expected to impact on pilgrims from Central American nations such as El Salvador, Guatemala, Mexico, Honduras, travelling by land through Nicaragua.
Mr Gonzalez said he had heard that Panama had been in talks with officials in the country to expedite a safe passage of pilgrims travelling through and returning through Nicaragua before and after World Youth Day.
Ms Pena said her only disappointment leading up to this WYD was that she wanted to share it with more young Catholics from Central America.
Despite the tensions, another Brisbane pilgrim Gustavo Mendez, whose parents also left El Salvador for Australia, was keen to experience the mass gathering of young Catholics in Panama City.
He also attended WYD in Poland and found it a life-changing experience.
“I encountered Christ – not only in the words (spoken by Pope Francis), but in the people,” Mr Mendez said.
“Seeing the three million people united in Poland – that’s where I felt the presence of Christ, because I saw together we could be the image of Christ.
“And that left a grand impression in me.
“I wanted to see in this pilgrimage in Panama that I could have the exact same encounter – not only seeing Christ in the sacraments and confession but also meeting Christ in the people, and more importantly meeting Christ in my own life.”

Thursday, January 24, 2019

The Credibility of Bishops on Credibly Accused Priests

The following article was written by Father Gordon MacRae.  As usual, he writes a very strong article on the crisis facing our Catholic Church today.  It's ironic that since 2002, none of the bishops paid much attention to due process of the law as they remove priests from their diocese and refuse to support them.  Now, that bishops are being accused left and right, suddenly, they focus on "due process."  Please continue to pray for our Church, the clergy, and for our Archbishop Anthony Apuron and our Coadjuator Archbishop Michael Jude Byrnes.  The following article can be found here

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Sixteen years after the Dallas Charter set a ‘credible’ standard to suspend hundreds of accused priests, bishops are only now trying to define what ‘credible’ means.
“‘Credibly accused’ is being worked out in terms of our lawyers even now as we speak.” Cardinal Daniel DiNardo, President, U. S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.
I chose the image atop this post because it presents such a startling contrast. The untitled and uncredited image was sent and I was so moved by it I asked to have it posted on Christmas Eve on LinkedIn, an entirely secular social network. If a picture speaks a thousand words, this one speaks volumes. Within days, it garnered 3,000 views and a multitude of comments. Readers found it to be remarkably inspiring.
I wanted to include it here because it reflects the reality in which I live. It also reflects the true mission of priesthood, “a heroic vocation” as described by Matthew Hennessey, an editorial features editor at The Wall Street Journal, who wrote in 2017 that, despite all the bad press…
“One thing hasn’t changed. Young men still want lives, of heroic virtue and the priesthood offers that in abundance.” (“The Priesthood is a Heroic Vocation,” August 17, 2017)
Both the photo above and Matthew Hennessey’s WSJ op-ed stand in stark contrast to how most in the news media – often predators in their own right – are portraying Catholic priests. A typical example was analyzed in these pages in a post about the one-sided hysteria masked as journalism that has dogged Catholic leaders in the sexual abuse moral panic of the last two decades. That post is “USA Today’s Tim Roemer on How to Save the Catholic Church.”
I owe some thanks to USA Today and former Democratic Congressman Tim Roemer for at least being transparent in their real agenda for Catholics in America. Their moral outrage has goals: abandon civil rights for priests, allow priests to marry, ordain women, and appoint lay leaders to replace bishops in supervising clergy and screening seminarians. In other words, make bishops obsolete.
But nothing Tim Roemer has said or written alarms me as much as the quote atop this post from Cardinal Daniel DiNardo, President of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. The Gospel could be the measure of how the bishops respond to the crisis. Church law could provide a framework for formulating policy. Bypassing all of that for the U.S. bishops, “Credibly accused is being worked out in terms of our lawyers even now as we speak.”
“Even now as we speak.” Sixteen years after adopting “credible” as the standard by which accused priests – “from however long ago” – are measured and discarded, the bishops are only now discerning what “credible” should mean, and only because there is a movement afoot to apply the same standard to bishops. A little history is in order.
In 2002, the bishops meeting in Dallas under the harsh glare of the news media adopted a policy in a time of crisis. Having invited David Clohessy, Barbara Blane and others from SNAP (the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests) to address the conference, the bishops adopted the “Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People.”
Known simply as the “Dallas Charter,” its main promoter was Cardinal Theodore McCarrick Cardinal Avery Dulles lobbied against it, and published a stinging rebuke in “The Rights of Accused Priests.” The bishops, however, sided with Cardinal McCarrick.
ZERO TOLERANCE IS NOT A GIFT OF THE HOLY SPIRIT

In 2000, the U S bishops published a pastoral document entitled “Responsibility and Rehabilitation.” It criticized the American criminal justice system for adopting one-size-fits-all concepts of justice and mantra-based policies such as “zero tolerance” and “three strikes and you’re out” that enhanced penalties while discounting paths to rehabilitation. The bishops urged that justice should be restorative, and not only punitive.
Just two years later, those same bishops signed the Dallas Charter inflicting upon their own priests what they condemned in the criminal justice system. The bishops’s draconian new policy for priests negated restorative justice. “One strike and you’re out – forever!” Among those paying attention, even hardcore law and order types scratched their heads at the abolition of due process by which this would be implemented.
An accusation – whether from this year or fifty years ago – need not be proven or even true. It need only be ‘credible.” The accepted interpretation of “credible” was that it could have happened. In other words, the priest and the accuser were both present in the same general locale 30, 40, or 50 years ago. This new zero-tolerance policy held that any priest so accused, from however long ago, is to be removed and barred from any ministry unless and until proven to be innocent.
The cases, many of which skipped the preliminary investigations required by canon law, were then submitted to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith at the Vatican for finality. The CDF had every reason to conclude that canon law was being followed and legitimate investigations were carried out. Writing in First Things (Aug.-Sept. 2002) Father Richard John Neuhaus described the scene in which the “Dallas Charter” was created:
“Almost 300 bishops sat in mandatory docility as they were sternly reproached by knowing psychologists, angry spokespersons for millions of presumably angrier laypeople, and above all, by those whom the bishops learned to call, with almost cringing deference, the ‘victim/survivors’… Tears earned a gold star and welling eyes an honorable mention from the media… Like schoolboys, the bishops anxiously awaited the evening news to find out their grades.” (“Scandal Time III”)
The resultant process was described in these pages in a courageous post by priest and canon lawyer, Father Stuart MacDonald, JCL, “Last Rights: Canon Law in a Mirror of Justice Cracked.” It was a timely and soul-searching post for the whole Church about the rights of accused priests and the real-world failure of the hierarchy to secure and respect those rights.
Since the Dallas Charter was enacted by the bishops in 2002, that “real-world failure” has resulted in scenes far more reminiscent of the American McCarthy era than the American Catholic church. In the months to follow that Dallas meeting, thousands of files were scoured and hundreds of priests were rounded up. Priests merely accused, many of whom had ministered without incident for years or decades, were summarily expelled from Church ministry and property. Again, Father Neuhaus:
“The bishops have succeeded in scandalizing the faithful new by adopting a thoroughly unbiblical, untraditional, unCatholic approach to sin and grace… They ended up adopting a policy that was sans repentance, sans conversion, sans forbearance, sans prudential judgment, sans forgiveness, sans almost everything one might have hoped for from the bishops of the Church of Jesus Christ.” (The Rev. Richard John Neuhaus, “Scandal Time III,” 2002)
WHEN THE CHURCH DEFAMES HER PRIESTS

Back in July of 2011 I wrote with exasperation about the result of all this by profiling the case of Boston priest, Father F. Dominic Menna. “Father Dom” ministered as a senior priest well into his late seventies in a parish where he was beloved and respected. Then the 2002 moral panic came. An easy target, Father Menna found himself among dozens to face a vague claim from the distant past, an incident alleged to have occurred over forty years earlier.
It was unsubstantiated and could never be substantiated. By what magic could a 40-year-old claim of fondling be substantiated? But it “could” have happened, and that rendered it “credible.” Father Dom was dragged before the Archdiocesan Sanhedrin, stripped of his faculties as a priest, and put out into the street. The next day, The Boston Globe ran his name and photo and identified the vague details of his “offense” forgetting to mention that it was both unproven and up to a half-century old.
Of course the purpose of all that is to invite new accusers to cash in. This claim came through the usual contingency lawyers who became quick millionaires by holding press conferences to shame bishops into quick settlements. I wrote about the sad Father Dom story in 2011 in, “If Night Befalls Your Father, You Don’t Discard Him. You Just Don’t!
Ah, but we do discard them! Or at least most of us keep silent while someone else does. This is the “zero tolerance” that our bishops have embraced and that even Pope Francis now touts as a centerpiece of the Church’s response. So why am I protesting all this anew? In a December 19 issue of CRUX, Correspondent Christopher White published “Two Decades into Crisis, No Consensus on What ‘Credibly Accused’ Means.”
After sixteen years of compiling scarlet letter lists of the accused – some living, but most dead, some guilty but many not – the question has arisen anew about whether names of accused priests – merely accused, mind you – should be published by their bishops. The demand to do so comes from lawyers, the news media, and SNAP, but as Father Richard John Neuhaus warned in 2002, the “victim advocates are not satisfied and, sadly, may never be satisfied.”
It is not enough that the bishops release these lists of names. The newest wave of SNAP leaders (the previous wave disappeared after being implicated in an alleged lawyer kickback scheme) want the bishops to also include in these lists descriptions of the alleged abuse so that others who want to contact the same contingency lawyers can concoct consistent stories. If you balk at the plausibility of such a concern, it is only because you have not yet read the evidence for it in “A Weapon of Mass Destruction: Catholic Priests Falsely Accused.”
But there are other concerns, the most important of which is fundamental civil liberty and due process. After fallout from the now infamous Pennsylvania grand jury report on accused priests, bishops in multiple states have conceded on the issue of publishing the names of the “credibly” accused, living or dead, guilty or not. This has been going on for years, but now, the sound of screeching voices has risen to a scarlet letter crescendo.
TAKING RIGHTS FROM SOME DESCENDS A SLIPPERY SLOPE
Cardinal Daniel DiNardo told CRUX that among the next steps in the bishops’ collective response to the crisis would be “studying national guidelines for the publication of lists of names of those clerics facing substantiated claims of abuse.”
It did not go without notice among the lawyers, the news media, and SNAP that the parameter has suddenly been altered. After two decades with “credible” as the standard for dismissing priests and releasing their names, “substantiated” is now the operative word and it is a far different standard. Why it took the bishops nearly two decades to ask themselves what “credible” means – not to mention whether it ever reflected justice or the Gospel – is unclear. A lot is unclear.
But some clarity on this came forth from another source “When the Church Defames Her Priests” was published in Homiletic & Pastoral Review in 2017 by Opus Bono founder and president, Joe Maher, and David A. Shaneyfelt, an attorney in private practice in California and an Opus Bonoadviser.
The article addresses the destructive and ill-advised practice adopted to date by some two dozen dioceses in the United States to create and publish lists of priests who have been merely accused. The Opus Bono authors wrote:
“We take special issue with those dioceses who think that publishing a list of names of clerics who have been ‘credibly’ accused of sexual misconduct is warranted. We disagree for many reasons – canonical, theological, pastoral, and legal. It is this latter reason we wish to address here.”
The article goes on to present a transparent but chilling explanation of what “credible” means in this context, and a compelling case for protecting the due process rights of priests who are merely accused. After reading, I could not help but agree with its urgency. The article captured the flagrant injustice in this practice:
“How ironic that a bishop, who aims to demonstrate his concern for one victim of abuse, will thereby create another victim of abuse – and end up paying large amounts of damages to each in the process. How doubly ironic that a bishop who initiates such a policy may someday find himself on the list.”
Lest any bishop thought that suggestion implausible, it has now come to pass. In “Giving Due Process Its Due,” an excellent article at The Catholic Thing, Stephen P. White (no relation to CRUX writer, Christopher White) wrote that at the November meeting of bishops, Bishop Donald Trautman (Emeritus of Erie, PA), spoke against plans to have a similar reporting system for allegations against bishops.
In response to the idea that allegations against bishops be reported to the Nuncio, and thus to Rome, Bishop Trautman objected: “I think this proposal is very dangerous and unjust. It calls for the reporting to the Apostolic Nunciature accusations not investigated, not substantiated, not proven. That’s unjust.”
I agree with Bishop Trautman, however, as Stephen White reported, it raised a few eyebrows among bishops for it is precisely what US bishops have been doing to hundreds of priests since the Dallas Charter was enacted in 2002.
The growing demand – to which the bishops of some seventy U.S. dioceses have already capitulated – is to bypass the legal system standard of a criminal conviction as the impetus for requiring registration of sexual offenders. Some bishops have created their own private version of “Megan’s Law,” but without the law’s built-in respect for basic civil rights. In American courts, only those convicted in a court of law can end up on such a published list.
Dozens of U.S. bishops and dioceses have already published these lists with no legal entity requiring them, and with little recourse on the part of the priests, many of whom are innocent. These lists replace justice with capitulation to a lynch mob.
The November-December issue of Annals Australasia: Journal of Catholic Culture reprinted the following excerpt, an eye-opener from Peter Hitchins in the (UK) Daily Mail, 17 December 2017, entitled “We have forgotten what justice means”:
“Accusations of long-ago sexual crime have become a sort of industry in this country. People are so horrified by them that they almost always believe them. Because the crime is so foul, we stop thinking…. Police and prosecutors use our horror to get easy convictions when they must know that their cases are weak. The less actual evidence that they have, the more they stress the disgusting nature of the alleged crime. And they forget to remind us that it is alleged, not proved.
“Equally shamefully, judges do not stop these trials, and juries leave their brains at the door. They convict not because they are sure the case has been proved beyond reasonable doubt, but because they are angry and revolted. I am miserably sure there are disturbing numbers of people in prisons now, prosecuted on such charges, who are innocent of the accusations against them. It is our fault, because we have forgotten what justice is supposed to be like, and that, if we do not guard it in our hearts, it will perish in our country.”
If Pennsylvania Attorney General Joshua Shapiro’s one-sided, untested grand jury report is to be the standard by which we execute justice and formulate policy – without evidence, without trials, without a defense – then justice has already perished in our country. If our bishops publish lists of names of priests merely accused, but without substantiation, their credibility will perish with it.
Note from Father Gordon MacRae: Please share this important post and visit these related posts from These Stone Walls: 

  

Publishing The Names of Priests

The following article was written by Joseph R. Maher and David A. Shaneyfeit.  Mr. Maher is the Founder and President of Opus Bono Sacerdotii, an organization committed to helping priests with a variety of personal and legal problems.  Mr. Shaneyfeit is a private California attorney.  The article can be found here (the bold is mine):

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Over the last two decades, the Roman Catholic Church in the United States has reeled under claims of clerical sexual abuse. The claims resulted in extraordinary liability and wide-spread publicity. When bad things happen in any organization, the counter-policies imposed to fix those problems often overreach. This is precisely what is happening with the decision of some dioceses to publicize lists of names of former clerics who have had claims of sexual abuse made against them. The rationale is that publication of these names serves an interest in “accountability.” The motivation to publish the names is not based on any civil law, court order, or other legal mandate, but simply on internal diocesan policy.
While the motivation may be understandable, many bad policies are the fruit of very good intentions. In the wake of the sexual abuse scandal, bishops have faced intense scrutiny over their knowledge and responsibility for acts of abuse that occurred under their watch or under their predecessor’s watch. No bishop, anywhere, wishes to be perceived as having failed to address a known problem. Conversely, every bishop, everywhere, wishes to be perceived as having taken strong action to fix a problem previously unknown and to prevent it from happening again. Surely, as a general goal, every bishop should do so in response to the sexual abuse crisis. Who could object to transparency and accountability?
So, who can object to publishing the names of former clerics who have had “credible claims” of sexual abuse made against them? To date, some two dozen dioceses and archdioceses have decided to publish lists naming names of those accused of sexual abuse. Some, like the Diocese of Gallup, publish a list of clergy identified by the diocese “as having credible allegations of sexual misconduct made against them.” Others, like the Archdiocese of Baltimore, publish a list of clerics who have been “accused of child sexual abuse during their lifetimes,” and for individuals accused after 2002 “information from the public disclosures that were made.” Still others, like the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, publish such lists under a page for “Status of Clergy,” that includes those whose ministry has been restricted and faculties withdrawn due to credible allegations of child sexual abuse, along with lists of those laicized or deceased who have also had credible allegations made against them, too. Some offer a rationale for publishing the lists; some do not. The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops keeps statistics on those accused, but it does not publish any list identifying the individuals so accused.
Opus Bono Sacerdotii has assisted some 10,000 clerics over the past fifteen years who have been accused of misconduct. The organization has received the respect and accolades of many members of the hierarchy and at the highest levels of the Church, because of the organization’s dedication to offering unconditional love to those ordained in persona Christi, irrespective of the charges made against them. Some may have been credibly accused of misconduct; some not. All deserve to know the love of Christ. But we take special issue with those dioceses who think that publishing a list of names of clerics who have been “credibly” accused of sexual misconduct is warranted. We disagree for many reasons—canonical, theological, pastoral, and legal. It is this latter reason we wish to address here.
The Problem: Naming The Mere Accused
As a threshold matter, it is far from clear how a bishop’s publication of names serves an interest in “accountability.” If a diocese does not publish the names of those accused, does that indicate the diocese is hiding something? Is disclosure a kind of public confession, an acknowledgement that claims have been made against diocesan clerics and that the diocese is sorry such claims have been made? Will publication of names deter other clerics from engaging in misconduct? Will publication of names please all who made the claims? Why publish only names? Why not publish all details of the claims, too?
One sign that publication of names (or details of claims) does not serve any interest in accountability is that such a practice is entirely unheard of in the American employment experience. We are aware of no employer (large or small), no government entity (Federal, state, or local), that undertakes to publish as a matter of institutional policy the names of all individuals employed by that organization for whom “credible” accusations of misconduct have been made. That such a complete absence of practice exists is remarkable, as we live in an age in which employers of all kinds are subject to an extraordinary array of laws, the vast majority of which are designed to protect employees and to foster employer accountability in the workplace. Try to recall the last time General Motors published a list of all supervisors for whom credible claims of sexual harassment have been made over the last twenty years. It has not happened; it will not happen in the foreseeable future. And there are many reasons why it has not happened that have nothing to do with accountability.
One such reason begins with the class of individuals whose names are being published. The dioceses do not purport to publish the names of those individuals who have been criminally convicted of having sexually abused a minor. There is little to be achieved in publication of those names, as these identities have already been well-publicized through very public criminal proceedings. The same is true for civil court proceedings. Re-publication of their identities is both unnecessary and belated. Moreover, one should wonder why it would be appropriate to remind the public of those individuals whose names were in the public for having been charged with crimes, but who were ultimately acquitted of them or who successfully defended against any civil suit. Charges against those individuals may have been “credible,” but no interest is served if, after their day in court, they prevailed against those charges.
Rather, dioceses are proposing to publish the names of those who merely had “credible” charges against them. This is a very different class of individuals and may, or may not, include those who have been found guilty of criminal charges or who lost civil judgments against them. It could include a variety of other individuals, including those who settled cases out of court and who, like the vast majority of all civil defendants, agreed to settle on condition that they admit no wrongdoing. Some might object that settlement with no admission of liability undermines the truth of what happened, but that objection applies to every civil settlement everywhere and it is undeniable such a ubiquitous practice serves the interests of both the plaintiff and the defendant, which is exactly why settlements occur.
But there are plenty of other clerics against whom “credible” accusations have been made who, in fairness, deserve no publicity for those accusations. Clerics often cite a host of reasons why they will refuse to contest accusations made against them—they have reached a crisis of faith and decided that the accusations are a good excuse to leave the ministry; they do not believe they will be properly defended; they wish to acquiesce to the charges for the sake of spiritual goods; they have psychological or emotional problems unrelated to the claims made against them; they do not wish to contest the accuser for pastoral reasons; they fear they will lose their pension or health insurance; they fear the bishop to whom they have taken vows of obedience and have come to regard as the figure of God. Under all such scenarios, clerics deny the claims made, but decline to challenge them.
Then, again, there are scenarios where clerics will also refuse to challenge the claims made, not because they believe the claims are false, but because they only believe they are exaggerated. Lastly, there are those who simply admit guilt, because they did, in fact, engage in the complained about conduct. But in sum, the class of individuals against whom “credible” claims have been made includes individuals who both did. and did not, engage in the complained conduct.
Who Decides What?
And herein lies the problem, which explains why every other employer will refrain from publishing a list of names of employees it reasonably believes have engaged in misconduct: Who decides whether the claims of sexual abuse are “credible” or “substantiated?” The Bishop? His Chancellor or other delegate? A committee? Some law firm? What standards do any one, or more, of these individuals use to determine whether the claims are “credible” or “substantiated?” Standards of civil law? Canon law? Internal policies? Can we be sure the bishop made such findings impartially, or did he do so to protect himself? What conflicts of interest existed that were taken into account? What procedures were employed in the determination? Did the accused represent himself? Was he given the opportunity to be represented by counsel? Did he have the opportunity to confront his accuser? Was he even told the identity of his accuser? Did he acquiesce to charges irrespective of culpability for any of the reasons mentioned above—tired of the ministry and looking for a way out, or “offering up” the charges made against him? Did he have other undesirable “baggage” that colored the investigation against him? Were the standards employed twenty or thirty years ago the same standards applied today? Were outside professionals–psychiatrists, forensic examiners, detectives—employed? Were they not employed when they should have been employed? Were they screened for suitability and bias?
These are important questions for both sides—priest and bishop. And that these questions can be raised therefore highlights the crucial difference between informal and formal claims. By informal, we mean those outside the conventional legal process, where determinations are made apart from civil or criminal proceedings, and irrespective of whether some one person, or others, determines that the accusations are “credible.” By formal claims, we mean those that arise through the judicial process—the civil and criminal courts. Those courts, however imperfect, are the tribunals we trust to make proper findings of fact, and conclusions of law. Decision-making apart from the courts may well be superior—and even controlled by clear provisions of Canon Law—but that is of no consequence, because courts of law necessarily trump all other forms of decision-making. Truth is the goal of any investigation; legal process is merely the recognized means of determining it. And it matters not when a bishop rightly determines that a cleric should be removed from ministry due to “credible” claims of sexual abuse, or when General Motors determines that a supervisor should be fired due to “credible” claims of sexual harassment. The issue is whether the bishop is right to publish the names of those so accused.
But neither the bishop, nor any private employer, is a recognized surrogate for the American civil and criminal court system. In fact, some diocesan statements candidly admit they assume no such surrogacy and note, by way of disclaimer, that just because someone’s name appears on the list, does not mean “a presumption of guilt” exists. This admission is extraordinary. The bishop is publishing a list, ostensibly to let the public know which of his former clerics has been accused of sexual abuse, but he is cautioning the public to know that such individuals might be innocent of those charges. One would expect that caution would tip in favor of non-disclosure, not disclosure. It does not work to say, in effect, that: “I have reason to think you are a sexual abuser, but I don’t know for sure if you are.” A published list is tantamount to a bishop’s “Megan’s List,” without any of Megan’s Law behind it. Ironically, clerics who have been adjudicated of sex abuse crimes will already be on a “Megan’s List.” What is worse (for accused clerics): Individuals on Megan’s List can get their names removed; the bishop offers no such allowance for those on his list.
And that is precisely what is at stake here when a bishop decides to publish the names of those whom he thinks have had “credible” accusations made against them. Those whose names are so published therefore have potential claims for defamation, and other civil claims, which the civil courts will review, to determine the truth of those accusations, not whether they were “credible.” If the accusations are untrue, then whether the bishop believes they were “credible” is irrelevant; he has published defamatory information.
Claims Against The Bishop
Because a bishop stands before his priests in the same role that an employer does for his employees, it is worth considering the kinds of civil claims a former cleric may make against his bishop for having published his name on a list of those whom the bishop believes that credible accusations of sexual abuse exist. First, there is defamation—known as “slander” where oral communications are concerned, and “libel” when communications are in writing. Defamation is simple in concept: a plaintiff must prove (1) the defendant made a false and defamatory statement concerning the plaintiff; (2) the defendant made an unprivileged publication to a third party; (3) the publisher acted, at least negligently, in publishing the communication; (4) special damages, at least in some cases.
The first element—whether a communication is defamatory—is established if the communication “tends so to harm the reputation of another as to lower him in the estimation of the community, or to deter third persons from associating with him,” (as the Restatement on the Law so states). As the law readily finds defamatory communications to exist when they indicate that the plaintiff was involved in a serious crime involving moral turpitude or a felony, a bishop’s indication that a former cleric may have committed sexual abuse surely meets this standard. It matters not whether the bishop believes the allegations are true, and is simply, for the sake of accountability, publicizing allegations made by others. A claim for defamation is sufficient when it impugns the cleric’s good name or reputation, which, of course, would happen here, given the explosive nature of the charges made. If the bishop were to simply pass on allegations made by others, the bishop can be held liable for defamation by neglect.
The bishop would be on untested grounds to argue the second prong of a defamation: that he had a “privilege” to publish this information to third parties. A bishop’s decision to reveal accusations to an inquiring employer may be, but is not always, permitted. In such cases (often recognized by a specific state statute), the bishop may enjoy a privilege to communicate such information. But we are unaware of any court that has allowed a bishop (or for that matter, any private employer) to make a gratuitous public disclosure of such information as a matter of “privilege.” In short, if a bishop aims to publish the names of accused clerics, the bishop should be prepared to defend the truth of every one of those allegations, or suffer the consequences for having defamed them.
Another likely claim a former cleric could raise against the bishop would be a claim for intentional infliction of emotional distress. Such claims are established when the plaintiff shows a defendant has engaged in extreme and outrageous conduct, and that such conduct has caused the plaintiff to suffer severe emotional trauma. What conduct is extreme and outrageous? Courts vary on this. But to our knowledge, they have not sanctioned publication of lists of names of employees merely accused of misconduct. Solid arguments can be advanced that a bishop’s publication of names of individuals, who are presumed innocent as a matter of law, is both extreme and outrageous, especially as it conflicts with every known employment practice in the United States. The presumption of innocence lies at the core of the American judicial system. Even those individuals charged with despicable crimes, like child abuse, enjoy that same privilege: that they are innocent until proven guilty. A bishop would rob them of that privilege by letting them be tried in the court of public opinion, which is hostile to the point of being judged “lethal,” murder and suicide both included.
And the anguish former clerics could suffer is both real and extreme. What families could be broken up, what friendships could be destroyed, what jobs could be lost, what contracts could be terminated, simply because one’s name appears on a list of former clerics for whom “credible” accusations of sexual abuse existed? What physical attacks, what emotional outbursts, what suicides will occur because one’s name is on a list? Whatever such damages may occur, the bishop could well be liable for them all. How ironic that a bishop, who aims to demonstrate his concern for one victim of abuse, will thereby create another victim of abuse—and end up paying large amounts of damages to each in the process. How doubly ironic that a bishop who initiates such a policy may someday find himself on the list.
Two other similar common law claims may lay within the former cleric’s domain: invasion of privacy, and interference with a contract. A former cleric who proves a bishop has made public a false reference, or disciplinary matter about him, could make a claim for invasion of privacy. In addition, a former cleric who proves the bishop gave false or misleading information to others that led to the termination of a contract (employment or otherwise) could make a claim for intentional, or negligent, interference with contractual relations. Current employment contracts of these individuals would certainly fall within this scope. Would a bishop really wish to accept liability for all former clerics who lose their current jobs because of his publication of their names?
Attracting The Media Hurricane
One unintended consequence of publishing names of accused clerics is the media interest that may arise because of it. Those who are hostile to Church interests do not praise a bishop for his openness; instead, they question his motives for doing so. Rightly or wrongly, questions may arise over why the bishop is releasing these names. Is he doing so to deflect scrutiny over his past conduct? Does he think this will avail him of support when later questionable actions of his come to light? Nothing in the history of modern media relations indicates either of these scenarios would work to his advantage. Nor will he have any control over which way the hurricane will blow when a media frenzy occurs. Nor will he have any control over the media leaks that will occur from those in his own bureaucracy, who have less than pure designs. If the threat of civil liability does not deter a bishop from publishing names of accused individuals, the prospect of a media hurricane should. Far from receiving credit for publishing those names, the bishop may well receive opprobrium, and for reasons unconnected to the particular publication.
And then there are those victims who themselves have moved on with their lives. How they will be shielded from media attention remains to be seen if, and when, disclosure of their identities arises by naming names of the accused. And for those who truly are victims, it is far from clear how a ten-second clip on the evening news, or a quote on the front-page daily, will better their lives, as they relive details they have tried to leave behind. Arguably, the bishop advances his claimed interest in accountability, but at the expense of the victim whose past is now dredged up again for further review.
One reason (among many) why private companies refuse to publish names of accused offenders is the effect such publication would have on morale. As most employees would say, “My colleague’s name published today; my name, tomorrow.” What priest will not wonder whether his name will be publicized, and forever connected to heinous misdeeds, if some allegation is made against him, and if he finds himself twisting in the wind unable to counter it, and if his bishop (or his delegate) finds the claim “credible?” One need not have a fertile imagination to think of the myriad of ways in the past several years that priests have been thrown into the diocesan buzz saw, and been cut to pieces, their lives ruined, as fear-mongering has led to a spiritual “Reign of Terror,” where the loss of one’s collar feels like the loss of one’s head. At a time in history when priests are most in need of support, comes a millstone in place of a life-ring.
If a bishop were truly interested in “accountability,” why not poll the priests who serve under him, and see if they think such a policy serves that interest? What percentage would it take to convince him the action is inappropriate and unwarranted—70, 80, 90 percent? Is it hard to imagine that nine out of ten priests would oppose such an initiative? We don’t think so, based on our limited queries. Is any administrative decision worth acting upon when ninety percent of your rank and file are opposed to it? Cannot the Holy Spirit be discerned through consensus?
While to our knowledge, no former cleric has yet sued a bishop for landing on a “credibly accused” list, we suspect that the time is at hand for such lawsuits. A great many priests have felt betrayed and mistreated by accusations made against them, and their stories are legion. If they have declined legal action to date, it is for many reasons, fear being chiefly among them—fear of media attention, fear of retaliation (such as loss of pension or health benefits on which they critically rely), fear of challenging their spiritual leader. But fear will eventually give way to indignation, and indignation to civil suits; the bishops should not be surprised if and when a counter-offensive occurs. The bishops have enjoyed a de facto immunity from such suits to date; they will face a difficult task in finding de jure immunity when those suits eventually occur.
WWJD? What is the Imitatio Christi in such situations?
Finally, we are left to ponder what we should have considered first: What would Jesus do? Would Jesus publish the names of individuals for whom only reasonable grounds of guilt exist, when those individuals are presumed innocent as a matter of law? We are unsure he would even publish the names of individuals who are found guilty in criminal proceedings—“Let the dead bury the dead” (Lk 9:60). We are not suggesting Jesus would take no corrective action or discipline. Far from it. But corrective action or discipline is not at issue. What is at issue is the mere voluntary publication of names, and we see no Gospel interest advanced in doing so. To the contrary, we see an initiative designed to protect the bishop, and his quest for transparency, that may benefit him, but will harm others.
In sum, we see no good reasons why bishops in the United States should depart from the path that every other employer observes who is subject to the same legal system. They should let the legal system control the truth-finding process of guilt or liability for sexual abuse claims, and not substitute it for their own judgment, however well-intentioned. Such a practice not only exposes them to significant legal liability, unwarranted media attention, and bad morale; it is not even the Christian thing to do.

Thursday, January 17, 2019

The Dark Night of a Priestly Soul

The following article was written by Father Gordon MacRae.  It's an article worth reading.  It would be beneficial if every bishop, priest, and deacon read it as well.  The article can be found here.
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Do you know what you were doing on any given day in 1972? Can you document your answer? If you are a Catholic priest, you may have to and your life may depend on it.
INTRODUCTION BY FATHER GORDON MACRAE
My sequel is not about the state of our Church, but rather about the state of our bishops as they prepare for a Vatican Summit on the crisis in the priesthood.
Nine days after I wrote it and mailed it for scanning, however, it has simply disappeared. Foul play or lost in the mail? Who knows? So now I must re-write it and re-mail it, and by the time you are reading this I will have done so. Hopefully, it will be our featured post next week.
I decided to reprint a post for this week I wrote for an Australian site in 2010 that is no longer online. The timing for it is good, and I have a haunting feeling that I am supposed to put it before you again. In “Anti-Catholicism and Sex Abuse,” in Homiletic & Pastoral Review, author Ryan MacDonald wrote:
“On a website located at Priests in Crisis, Father MacRae published an article in December entitled “The Dark Night of a Priestly Soul.” I urge every Catholic, every bishop, priest, and deacon, to read that article.”
THE DARK NIGHT OF A PRIESTLY SOUL
by Fr. Gordon J. MacRae
“It seems to the soul in this night
that it is being carried out of itself by afflictions…
This night is a painful disturbance
involving many fears, imaginings, and struggles
within a man.
Due to the apprehension and feeling of his miseries,
he suspects that he is lost
and that his blessings are gone forever.”
(St. John of the Cross, The Dark Night, Ch. 9, 5, 7)
When I was a younger priest, the period from Thanksgiving to Epiphany always felt like a mixed blessing. The demands on a parish priest at Christmas are very great. A spiritual observance of Advent and Christmas is an exhausting challenge against an ever-advancing tide of secular materialism. We priests experience in the Christmas season both the hope of the Incarnation and the limits of our human condition. It’s a spiritually vulnerable time that can heighten the intensity of loneliness, the pain of personal struggles and alienation, the agony of loss. Christmas can bring with it a deeply felt awareness of suffering and shadow, of spiritual and emotional vulnerability. It’s a time when, for some, the spring of hope can feel a lot more like the winter of despair.
When I was asked to write an article addressing the priesthood crisis, I felt very limited in scope. I was about to mark my seventeenth Christmas in prison in 2010. Frankly, Christmas in here is simply not what it is out there. It’s a time when the people around me suffer a great deal. Those with families and children are separated from them by impenetrable prison walls. Those who are alone have their loneliness magnified by the onslaught of Christmas imagery. {Since I wrote this, even Christmas cards have been banned from prison.}
I set out to write something uplifting for other priests at Christmas, but, well, it just wasn’t coming. I kept being drawn to some unfinished business, something that has gnawed at me for several years. Justice requires that I try to make some spiritual sense of it. Now is the time. What I am about to write may be very painful for some to read. Whether you are a lay Catholic, or a priest, deacon, or religious, if you are reading this, I beg you to read carefully and understand.
On December 29, 2002, a brother priest in my diocese took his own life. Father Richard Lower was 57 years old. He was a popular and very gifted – and giving – priest and human being. Father Lower had served Our Lady of Fatima Parish in New London, New Hampshire for the previous thirteen years, and he was much beloved by his parish family.
There was a lot that happened in Father Lower’s personal life over the preceding year. He had undergone his sixth painful back surgery. Then he developed septicemia for which he was hospitalized again. Father Lower’s mother died that November. These factors, and likely others that are unknown, left him physically, emotionally, and spiritually depleted as he faced the newest terror that was to enter his life two days after Christmas.
NO CRUELER TYRANNIES
On December 27th, every priest’s worst modern nightmare was visited upon Father Richard Lower. He was informed by a diocesan official that a claim of sexual abuse had been lodged against him from thirty years earlier in 1972. Father Lower had never been previously accused. The accusation stood alone, but was enough – three decades later – to abruptly end a life of ministry and priestly self-giving.
Based on the single, uncorroborated thirty-year-old claim, Father Lower was informed that the police would be notified. In accordance with the new “zero tolerance” policy of the U.S. Bishops’ “Dallas Charter” for the Protection of Children and Young People, he was suspended from ministry and told that he must immediately vacate the parish he had served for thirteen years.
As was every priest in the Diocese of Manchester, Father Lower was also painfully aware of an announcement from his bishop and diocese made just weeks earlier. In an unprecedented agreement between the Diocese and the State announced in December, 2002, the files and details of every accusation against any priest – regardless from however long ago – would be included in a vast public release of documents in March of 2003. Any privacy rights of the individual priests under canon or civil law were summarily discarded and waived by the signing of this agreement.
Two days after celebrating Christ’s birth with the parish community he loved and served for thirteen years, Father Richard Lower lived Christ’s scourging and was about to live the Scandal of the Cross in a way for which he had no defense. Succumbing to the darkest night of his soul, this good priest, walking alone in the valley of darkness, took his own life on a deserted mountain path.
Father Lower died without having either acknowledged or denied the 30-year-old claim brought against him. He died alone, apparently having reached out to no one. He left no note. A lot of people – including a number of priests – lamented that they could only imagine what Father Lower went through in those three days after Christmas.
I did not have to imagine anything. I knew exactly what he went through: the feeling of living in a vacuum, the sense of isolation, the feeling of powerlessness, the utter despair of never, ever being able to erase the scarlet letter indelibly marking the accused – guilty and innocent alike; the sheer impossibility of any defense after the passage of three decades; the overwhelming despair of exactly what Saint John of the Cross described in his Dark Night of the Soul:
“Due to the apprehension and feeling of his miseries,
he suspects that he is lost and that his blessings are gone
forever.”
Do you know what you were doing on any given day in 1972? Can you document your answer? If you’re a Catholic priest, you may have to, and your very life may depend on it. Innocent or guilty, what Father Richard Lower faced in those days after Christmas was a hopelessness unlike anything one could imagine without going through it. It was for good reason that Dorothy Rabinowitz entitled her 2005 book about the power of false sex abuse claims, No Crueler Tyrannies: Accusation, False Witness, and Other Terrors of Our Times.
In my prison cell a few days after Christmas in 2002, my eyes closed when I read the headline story. I knew Father Richard Lower. He was a priest I admired, and one of only three priests of my Diocese whoever wrote to me in prison. Nine months before he was accused, Father Lower wrote to another friend lamenting the terror being visited upon other priests. When so many others looked away in silence, Father Lower wrote courageously to challenge the lack of due process and presumption of guilt when other priests were accused. From an April, 2002 letter of Father Lower to a friend:
“The minute a man is accused, he’s immediately suspended. He is forced to leave his rectory within the hour. The result of this horrendous policy is that the priest is seen to be guilty until proven innocent.”
With reference to his back surgery and other pressures, Father Lower reacted to the media attack that had so consumed the priesthood that year. In the same letter, he wrote:
“With all the bad press the Church has received lately, it is very difficult to either work as a priest in public or even to recuperate as a priest… As Always, the press has had a heyday with this topic and reported things whether true or untrue. Because the Church did not handle it properly in the past, they now have a policy of no tolerance… Another fallout to the scandal is that a ‘witch hunt’ has begun. It feels like all priests are suspects and no one can be trusted. Please pray for us.”
After Father Lower’s tragic death, an official of the Diocese of Manchester acknowledged the truth of exactly what he feared, but also the official defended the policy. In a local news article, Monsignor Edward Arsenault was quoted thusly:
“In parish communities where priests have been put on leave, parishioners already believe them guilty. I know there is some expense. But I am confident that our policy is fair.”
TREASURE AND TRAGEDY
“I know there is some expense.” That seemed a strange way for a Church official to characterize the suicide of a priest in his diocese. It has been documented that some twenty-six American Catholic priests have taken their lives after being accused.
Some in the news media have implied that their despair is evidence of guilt. How sad and shallow. People of justice and conscience have expressed concern that our use of the death penalty in criminal cases may have resulted in the execution of some innocent men. Given the hundreds of innocent men who have been wrongly imprisoned for rape and other crimes, then exonerated by retesting DNA evidence, the concern is justified.
But isn’t it just as likely that some innocent priests were on that list of twenty-five who lost hope? Isn’t it possible that what some of them despaired most was the apparent end of justice
and fairness, the sheer impossibility of defending themselves? Believe me on this, accusations of sexual abuse are far more devastating for the innocent than for the guilty. I believe that others who have been falsely accused will corroborate this fact.
Absent clear and convincing evidence – and there has been none – I presume Father Richard Lower’s innocence. It’s what the United States Constitution bids me to do. It’s what the rule of law – both Church and civil – bids me to do, and it’s what the Gospel bids me to do. To presume anything else, absent evidence to the contrary, would belie a heart too jaded to claim to live justly and fairly, to claim to live the Gospel of Mercy.
After the tragic suicide of another priest, Father William Rosensteel, in June, 2007, Catholic columnist Matt C. Abbott published a powerful statement at Renew America from an unnamed supporter of Father Rosensteel:
“We need to remember how important a person’s good name is. To knowingly harm a person’s reputation without cause and clear evidence is a serious violation of the Eighth Commandment. The consequences of such violations are far-reaching and irreversible. Even a priest who is known to be guilty of the crime of child abuse should not be required to forfeit his life to satisfy attorneys, insurance companies, the media and plaintiffs. How much more is this true of a priest whose ‘case’ has not yet been decided?” (RenewAmerica, August 7, 2007)
As I held the local newspaper in my hand on December 30, 2002, with a headline exploiting the scandal of a priest’s suicide, I would have given anything to be on that wooded path that day with Father Lower at what he feared was the end of all things he held dear. I now wish I had the means to write in 2002 what I am writing here. It may have saved this good priest’s life. Even now there is hope – for Father Lower and for us.
First, there is a lesson to be learned. It is especially important that priests and lay people reach out to priests burdened with the tyranny of decades-old claims of abuse. In “The Sacred Priesthood,” an essay for the Year of the Priest, Father John Zuhlsdorf wrote: “The sacred priesthood is the common treasure and responsibility of the whole Church.”
Doesn’t that treasure warrant the benefit of the doubt for priests accused? Doesn’t it call us to support them with our words, our prayers, our mercy, and – if needed – our forgiveness?
“Today, the Church prays for persons who have taken their own lives” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 2283) recognizing that people who commit suicide suffer from anguish that can mitigate moral responsibility. I don’t think anyone can look justly at what happened to Father Lower and not see anguish there.
This is a time to have hope for Father Richard Lower’s soul, and, from our practice of mercy, for ourselves. We owe it to him and other priests who lost all hope to assist them still with our prayers and Masses, with our Gospel mandate to be merciful. We owe it to our spiritual brothers and fathers in the priesthood to resolve to never again let another priest walk alone through the valley of the shadow of death.
For my brother, Father Richard Lower:
“Softly and gently, dearly-ransomed soul,
In my most loving arms I now enfold thee,
And, o’er the penal waters, as they roll,
I poise thee, and I lower thee, and hold thee.
And carefully I dip thee in the lake,
And thou, without a sob or a resistance,
Dost through the flood thy rapid passage take,
Sinking deep, deeper, into the dim distance.
Angels, to whom the willing task is given,
Shall tend, and nurse, and lull thee, as thou liest;
And Masses on the earth and prayers in heaven,
Shall aid thee at the throne of the most Highest.
Farewell, but not forever! Brother dear,
Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow;
Swiftly shall pass thy night of trial here,
And I will come and wake thee on the morrow.”
Blessed John Henry Cardinal Newman,
Conclusion: “The Dream of Gerontius.”