from
The Public Square
Richard John Neuhaus
Copyright
(c) 2003 First Things 130 (February 2003): 67-84.
Boston and
Other Bishops First Things Richard John Neuhaus Feb
03
The
original article that accused the Boston 58 of being “the usual
suspects.” Among them are longstanding advocates of gay causes, habitual
ranters against Rome’s putative oppression, and those who go far beyond
respectful dissent in publicly declaring that authoritative teachings of the
Church are simply false.
Who
brought down the Cardinal Archbishop of Boston? A survey of print and broadcast
media around the country produces no dissent from the answer: Bernard Law was
brought down by the agitation of lay people and priests who are regularly
described as “reformers,” and by determined investigative reporters
who relentlessly exposed his sins of nonfeasance and malfeasance. After his
fall, there were occasional expressions of regret, statements that he was a
good man who let things get out of control, and even talk about Greek tragedy.
There
were sobering reflections also from non–Catholics. The Reverend Peter J.
Gomes, a black minister of the American Baptist Church and longtime Harvard
chaplain, wrote in the Boston Globe: “When lawyers, the courts, and the
media all seem complicit in the cycle of vengeance and blood and no closure
short of decapitation seems acceptable, then we have reason to worry about the
climate for justice, mercy, and charity; and Salem in 1692 seems not so far
removed in moral climate from Boston in 2002.” Then there are those who
all along have attributed the Boston storm, and the entire scandalmongering of
the past year and more, to anti–Catholicism. That view gets impressive
scholarly support from Philip Jenkins’ book, The New
Anti–Catholicism, out soon from Oxford University Press.
There
is no doubt that the Catholic Church has been “singled out”; that
the incidence of sexual abuse in other religious communities, in public
schools, and in social services is as high, and possibly higher, than it is in
the priesthood. Those institutions, however, are not subjected to a sustained
storm of public scandal and outrage. Some Catholics complain about the double
standard; others take the targeting as a perverse compliment, remembering
comedian Lenny Bruce’s quip that “The Catholic Church is the church
we mean when we say ‘the Church.’” Outside the South, a
toppled Methodist bishop or Baptist superintendent makes the news on page
sixteen below the fold. Anti–Catholicism is an old and complicated story.
It is, as Jenkins notes, the last respectable prejudice. Others, paraphrasing
Peter De Vries, have observed that anti–Catholicism is the
anti–Semitism of the cultural elites. Then there are those who claim that
the targeting of the Catholic Church is not anti–Catholicism but simply
reflects the fact that people expect more of the Church. That may be true in
some limited instances, but as an explanation of what is happening it is, I am
sorry to say, a sweet delusion.
The
View from Rome
As
interesting and important as such considerations undoubtedly are, at the end of
the day the fact is that Cardinal Law brought down Cardinal Law. Already last
April he had offered his resignation to the Pope, but it was not accepted. The
approach in Rome was, and apparently still is, that bishops should stay on the
job to clean up the messes for which they were largely responsible. Of course,
there was also the fear that the Church would be perceived as caving under
pressure from the media and, especially, from civil authorities. That concern
looks very different when viewed from Rome than from New York or Boston. Of the
180–plus countries in the world, many have governments that are overtly
hostile to the Church, and media that do the government’s bidding. Over
the centuries, the Church has contended fiercely for the freedom to govern
itself (libertas ecclesiae), and what happened in Boston and may be happening
elsewhere in this country cannot help but send shivers down the backs of those
who were formed by that corporate memory. When the attack comes from the
outside, even bad bishops are sometimes kept in place. As a demonstration of
the Church’s resolve. As a lesson to them that they must bear the cross
of dealing with the consequences of their mistakes.
But
in December the decision was made that Cardinal Law had lost his ability to
govern the Archdiocese of Boston. The Cardinal concurred in that decision. It
was a long time coming. Priests credibly accused of abuse were given new
assignments where they could, and did, abuse again. Perhaps most damaging were
public assurances by the Cardinal that every case had been addressed, which
assurances were then followed by the public exposure of yet further instances
of wickedness. I do not think it is true that, as his critics charge, the
Cardinal intentionally lied. All who know him know him to be a man of great
integrity, talent, and devotion to Christ and the Church. That cannot be
gainsaid. I, for one, am among the many who pray him well with what I hope will
be his continuing ministry in a position appropriate to his considerable gifts.
But
he could no longer lead the Archdiocese of Boston. It is right that he stepped
down. His “mistakes and shortcomings”—that is what he calls
them, and I believe that is what they were—were confusedly entangled with
his virtues. He was too modest in his deference to the “expert”
opinion of psychologists and others who assured him that abusing priests could
be safely returned to ministry. (The deeply dubious role of St. Luke’s in
Maryland and other treatment centers for offenders in this Long Lent, now
extending beyond 2002, has yet to be adequately told.) He understood the need
for priestly fraternity and trust, but did not see how insidiously fraternity
and trust can become clericalism’s habit of protecting what must never be
protected. He cared passionately about the reputation of the Church, but did
not understand how practices once thought judicious are now ammunition for
destroying that reputation in a new world where confidentiality is condemned as
secrecy and discretion as dissembling. Especially odious were the attacks
occasioned by the Cardinal’s letters of sympathy to priests removed from
ministry. Critics exploded in high dudgeon because he wrote to one priest who
was apparently guilty of serial abuses that his ministry had been a blessing to
“many people.” No doubt his ministry, despite all, had been that.
The repentant priest is still a brother in Christ and ontologically—as in
“a priest forever”—still a priest. The critics would not
forgive the Cardinal for not being as mean–spirited as they are.
Think
Low
Yet
it was right, and it was necessary, that he step down. He had lost his ability
to communicate effectively, and communication, as in being a teacher, is the
first responsibility of a bishop. In addition to the pressure of hundreds of
lawsuits and a financial crisis pointing toward bankruptcy, there was the
relentless, indeed merciless, determination of the media to give him every
blame of the doubt, led by the Boston Globe, which is salivating to outdo its
parent company, the New York Times, in the winning of Pulitzers and other
plaudits bestowed by journalistic peers. We should and should not blame the
media. On the one hand, without the media we would not know what went so very
wrong in Boston and elsewhere. On the other hand, they have been vicious,
dishonest, and guilty of violating the most elementary rules of journalistic
ethics, if indeed one can still speak of journalistic ethics with a straight
face.
The
Rev. Gomes speaks of “a climate of hysteria and manipulation that has
been created and sustained for nearly a year.” He adds, “Where we
might have hoped for a level of calm analysis and civic, even civil, discussion
of the case in all of its humanity and complexity, we have been given little
more than banner headlines, orchestrated press conferences, serial fascination
with priestly deviancy, and plaintiff strategy.” Headlines routinely
trumpet as “news” what is no more than the latest charge by lawyers
who have lined up more than five hundred clients to bring suit against the
Boston archdiocese. Think low. We’re talking money, really big money,
here. Every day lawyers, reporters, victim organizations, and a passel of
disgruntled priests became more and more explicit; they were set on bringing
down Cardinal Law, they would settle for nothing less than blood. The Rev.
Gomes again: “The victims would have themselves a victim; the lawyers
would be able to proceed without credible opposition in the search for
compensation; liberal voices for reform in the Church would see a nemesis
removed; and the press would have brought down a mighty figure in a
near–Watergate victory with Pulitzers all around.”
Boston
is a peculiar place. The Brahmins who once indisputably ran “the hub of
the universe” and still control the media have never really accepted the
presence of the great unwashed of Irish and Italian immigration. Catholic
politicians, prosecutors, and judges who want to ingratiate themselves with the
establishment seem to vie with one another to prove themselves as
anti–Catholic as their betters. This is the country of Kennedy
Catholicism, formed by that dynasty’s creed that the ethnic accident of
religion must never be permitted to interfere with the real world of ambition.
Of course there are devout Catholics of influence in Boston, but, with a few
honorable exceptions such as Mary Ann Glendon of Harvard Law School and Raymond
Flynn, the former mayor, they were strangely silent throughout this ordeal. It
is not that they should have defended the Cardinal’s errors, but they
could have protested the climate of hysteria and manipulation, they could have
called for elementary fairness and decency. Just once more, the Rev. Gomes:
“Those who not long ago were pleased to be pictured with the Cardinal,
kissing his ring and attending his charitable events and proud to be known as
archdiocesan insiders, now, like the disciples on Maundy Thursday, have
forsaken him and fled.” The Cardinal did not always act the role of a
Christ figure in this drama, but the rest of the analogy holds. To the great
shame of the Catholic lay leadership of Boston.
Media
Collaborators
Then
there are the clergy of Boston. The press, when trying not to be too egregious
in gloating about its triumph, gives a measure of credit to others. Here is a
story reporting that “the end was in sight when his strongest supporters,
the priests of Boston, called for his resignation.” Not quite. Not by a
long shot. Fifty–eight priests signed that call. There are 887 diocesan
priests in Boston and another 715 priests of religious orders. The
fifty–eight priests are, as Captain Renault says in Casablanca,
“the usual suspects.” Among them are longstanding advocates of gay
causes, habitual ranters against Rome’s putative oppression, and those
who go far beyond respectful dissent in publicly declaring that authoritative
teachings of the Church are simply false. However useful they were to the media
story line, their utterly predictable opposition to the Cardinal carried no
weight at all. As one veteran priest put it, “Some of us might have
signed a letter asking the Cardinal to consider resignation, but in no way were
we going to associate ourselves with those guys.”
Whoever
succeeds Law as archbishop should, it has been suggested, keep that list of
fifty–eight handy, for they represent the subculture of infidelity that
is the source of priestly miscreance in doctrine and life. Why should anyone be
surprised that scandals result when priests and teachers of theology make no
bones about saying that the Church does not mean what it says about sexuality,
celibacy, chastity, and sacred vows, or when they publicly declare that the
Church is just wrong in what it teaches? And why are they still priests and
teachers of theology? These are questions that Cardinal Law and too many other
bishops apparently have not asked, or at least have not answered with clarity
and firm resolve.
The
press appears to temper its self–congratulation also by attributing the
Cardinal’s resignation to lay agitations. An organization called the Voice
of the Faithful (VOTF) is routinely described as “rapidly growing.”
Over the months, the figure given for its national membership varies between
25,000 and 45,000. Apparently nobody knows. There is little evidence that VOTF
has expanded beyond the familiar activist orbit of Call to Action, We Are
Church, and similar groups pressing an anti–Rome and anti–hierarchy
agenda in the name of “Americanizing” Catholicism. And there is
little doubt that, if Rome had perceived the problem chiefly in terms of a bishop
under attack from rebellious laity and a cabal of maverick priests, Cardinal
Law’s resignation would not have been accepted. In that case, Rome would
likely have given assurances of support and told him to stay at his post and
fight.
Cardinal
Law brought down Cardinal Law. When the troubles began in January of last year,
some urged him to take the initiative, to get the full story out quickly, and
explain how and why the archdiocese had done what it did. But he didn’t
do that, perhaps on the advice of legal and financial counselors. It might have
made a big difference. His standing and credibility were then very high. As it
happened, the media, and especially the Globe, called the tunes, and the
Cardinal and archdiocese were playing defense all the way. Another way of
putting it is to say that the Cardinal was brought down by the system that
lifted him up to such an eminent place in that system. Call it clericalism or
call it the hierarchical habits of mind that too often prevent cardinal
archbishops from being bishops. They are elevated to the sphere of universal
responsibilities, serving on sundry congregations and councils in Rome,
negotiating ecclesiastical problems among the nations. Others are left to mind
the diocesan shop. On many things for which the bishop is responsible, I
believe Cardinal Law when he says he did not know what was happening in Boston.
This problem, too, is very insightfully analyzed by George Weigel in The
Courage To Be Catholic, undoubtedly the best book on what has gone wrong and
what might be done about it.
No
“Domino Effect”
Boston
is Boston and, contrary to media hopes for a string of ecclesiastical
Watergates, is not likely to precipitate a “domino effect” across
the country. In some other dioceses, things will unravel in their own way and
on their own schedule, depending in large part on the plans of prosecutors and
of lawyers bringing suit. The legal action, including possible criminal
actions, along with huge financial claims, is now gravitating toward the other
coast, with the Archdiocese of Los Angeles being the prime target. One watches
with interest whether West Coast scandal will sustain or revive such intense
national interest. Both there and in the rest of the country, people are not
easily scandalized by what happens in California. As important—and
although the Los Angeles Times is no doubt hungry for a share of the
journalistic prizes—there is not on the coast the concentration of
high–powered media that dominate the Northeast, and the nation.
When
Can We Move On?
This
will go and on, and we must be braced for the duration. Bishops will cope as
best they can. Archbishop Charles Chaput of Denver has provided a model of the
vibrant orthodoxy that addresses the doctrinal deformations at the source of
the scandals, provides a shepherd’s care for all the flock, and preserves
the necessary bonds of trust between bishop and priests. Chicago, the
archdiocese next largest to Los Angeles, has been relatively unscathed, and
Francis Cardinal George has clearly emerged as the senior voice of the Church
in the U.S., now that Cardinal Law and the late John O’Connor of New York
are gone. Bishop John D’Arcy of Fort Wayne–South Bend has become an
example for others. He had been an auxiliary in Boston and early on warned the
archdiocese about the dangers of reassigning priests who had been
“cleared” by St. Luke and other centers of putative expertise on
sexual pathologies. Along with Anthony Cardinal Bevilacqua of Philadelphia,
D’Arcy has been outspoken in warning against homosexuality in the
priesthood. As the scandals began to break last year, he took the initiative in
publishing a series of very persuasive articles in regional newspapers. (They
are available free in booklet form by writing him at 150 East Doan Drive, Fort
Wayne, Indiana 46806.) Then there is Bishop William Lori of Bridgeport,
Connecticut, who was a member of the group that worked out with Rome the rules
for dealing with abusive priests, and has demonstrated how they can work in a
way that is both responsive to victims and fair to the accused. Other bishops
might be mentioned, but suffice it to say that every diocese is different, and
no other diocese is Boston.
There
is Baltimore, for instance. William Cardinal Keeler released to the press a
long list of names of priests who had over the decades been accused of some
kind of sexual abuse. Many of them were retired and in nursing homes, many of
them were dead. There were names of priests who had not been found guilty of
any wrongdoing; nor was it claimed that the accusations were even credible. It
was simply publicized that they had been accused, of something, by somebody, as
long as forty years ago. Then there is the interesting Baltimore case of Father
Maurice Blackwell. A black priest, he is something of a maverick and is popular
with many, as mavericks often are. A young black man, Dontee Stokes, now age
twenty–seven, walked up to Fr. Blackwell on the street and shot him three
times. He claimed that when he was a teenager he had been sexually abused by
Fr. Blackwell. Fr. Blackwell has not been charged with wrongdoing.
After
the shooting, Cardinal Keeler very publicly befriended Stokes and his family.
At Stokes’ trial for attempted murder and other serious charges, Cardinal
Keeler testified on his behalf. Stokes was acquitted of everything except a
couple of minor gun offenses and is expected to serve several months of
probation. All agree that the national scandal of priestly sex abuse weighed
heavily with the jury. The prosecutor was outraged by the decision. The word is
now out, he said, “In Baltimore City, if you have a difference with
someone, you can settle it by shooting [him].” Others observed that in
Baltimore it is now open season on priests. After his release of the list of
infamy and his role in the Stokes trial, Cardinal Keeler is receiving very
favorable reviews in the press. The Baltimore Sun has declared him “an
example of openness and transparency.”
And
so it is that bishops are—with varying degrees of competence and
ineptness, of courage and cowardice, of forthrightness and
pandering—responding to sins, crimes, and other shames in their local
churches, none of which is Boston but none of which is unaffected by what has
happened in Boston. Out of all this, one continues to pray and hope, will come
purification and renewal, although the signs of that springtime are still far
off. I see that the editor of Commonweal is weary of my
“mantra–like” call for fidelity, fidelity, fidelity.
I’m sorry about that, but I can’t get over the idea that, if
priests and bishops had been faithful to the teaching of the Church and their
sacred vows, there would have been no scandal in the first place. And the
closely related idea: that the responsibility for the shameful fact that some,
and not just a few, were not faithful rests primarily with bishops. Until there
is evidence that more of them are seeing it, I suppose some of us will just
have to go on saying it. Fidelity, fidelity, fidelity. I think of it not as a
mantra but as a prayer. Everybody is eager for healing, reconciliation, and
moving on. But none of that will happen except on the far side of an answer to
that prayer.