Betrayal (32 page)
Over the course of three days, the bishops subjected themselves to a series of tongue-lashings, both from a panel of victims and from several lay intellectuals.
“What's at stake is the viability of the Church's moral and pastoral mission in the United States on the scale of its historic legacy; at stake is the reputation of the priesthood; at risk is the moral and pastoral authority of the bishops, and the Church's credibility on social justice as well as sexual teaching,” R. Scott Appleby, a University of Notre Dame historian who had served as director of the Cushwa Center for the Study of American Catholicism, told the bishops. “Whether the Catholic Church as currently governed and managed can proclaim the Gospel effectively in this milieu is an open question.”
By the time the bishops left Dallas, they had, for the first time, adopted a mandatory nationwide policy on the sexual abuse of children. The policy required that any allegation of sexual abuse against a minor be turned over to the civil authorities for investigation, and that any priest who engaged in child sexual abuse — past, present, or future — be removed from ministry.
The bishops left Dallas delighted with themselves, despite complaints from many quarters that they had failed to address the central question of accountability for their own conduct. But other concerns began to take shape as well. What about priests’ rights? Over the course of the summer, a poster child for that issue emerged in Boston: a monsignor named Michael Smith Foster, the Archdiocese of Boston's judicial vicar. Foster was ultimately cleared by the archdiocese of a single accusation of sexual abuse, but the Church's failure to promptly interview many of the key players in the case, and its decision to suspend the monsignor twice through two investigations, cast considerable doubt on its ability to deal fairly with accused priests. The Foster decision remained controversial, with victims’ advocates raising concerns about whether the Church investigated the case thoroughly before exonerating him, but the issue of priests’ rights was now on the table.
The pope, too, seemed concerned about this issue. During a visit to the Americas in the summer of 2002 — a visit in which he bypassed the troubled American Church in favor of visits to Canada, Mexico, and Guatemala — John Paul II offered a few choice words on the crisis.
“The harm done by some priests and religious to the young and vulnerable fills us all with a deep sense of sadness and shame,” the elderly pontiff told hundreds of thousands of cheering young people, many of whom stood or sat in the cold mud for what they thought might be the last chance to see the pope, at World Youth Day in Toronto. “But think of the vast majority of dedicated and generous priests and religious whose only wish is to serve and do good! There are many priests, seminarians, and consecrated persons here today; be close to them and support them!”
By late October, the full meaning of the Vatican's concerns became clear, as Rome demanded that the American bishops change the policy they had approved in Dallas to beef up protections for accused priests.
“The application of the policies adopted at the plenary assembly in Dallas can be the source of confusion and ambiguity, because the ‘Norms’ and ‘Charter’ contain provisions which in some aspects are difficult to reconcile with the universal law of the Church,” Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, prefect of the Congregation for Bishops, wrote in a letter to Gregory. “Moreover, the experience of the last few months has shown that the terminology of these documents is at times vague or imprecise, and therefore difficult to interpret.”
By the time the bishops met again, in Washington in mid-November, they had agreed to adopt a narrower definition of sexual abuse, to stress the purely advisory role of lay boards, to remove from Church law the requirement that all accusations be reported to police, and to emphasize layers of judicial process to protect accused priests. The bishops insisted that the changes would strengthen the protection of children; victims and lay advocates said the process had been weakened.
But the lay uprising continued unabated. In midsummer, Voice of the Faithful had attracted four thousand people to an assembly at Boston's Hynes Convention Center. They had unanimously approved a petition to Pope John Paul II demanding that he hold accountable any bishop who reassigned an abusive priest or concealed such crimes. They had collected money for Church ministries, saying they would help finance local charitable missions hurt because many Catholics were unwilling to give money to funds controlled by Law. They had offered prayers and standing ovations for victims, saying their Church's spiritual leaders had too often failed to believe or support those who had been abused. And they had given an award to a whistle-blowing priest, Thomas P. Doyle, saying they were taking it upon themselves to honor priests of integrity.
“Today we are asserting our right to participate in the decision-making processes of each parish, each diocese, and the entire Church,” declared James E. Post, a Boston University professor of management who served as president of Voice of the Faithful.
But by late fall, Voice of the Faithful had been barred from meeting on Church property in seven dioceses around the nation, and in Boston, Law prohibited any chapter formed after October 12 from meeting in parish halls. Conservative Catholics, and some bishops, accused Voice of the Faithful of dissidence, despite the group's insistence that it accepts the teaching authority of the Church.
The Church hierarchy seemed largely uninterested in discussing the wider issues triggered by the crisis. At the fall bishops’ meeting in Washington, Gregory seemed to attack groups seeking change. He later said he was describing groups advocating women's ordination or gay rights, but many heard a broader message in these remarks:
“As bishops, we should have no illusions about the intent of some people who have shown more than a casual interest in the discord we have experienced within the Church this year,” Gregory said. “There are those outside the Church who are hostile to the very principles and teachings that the Church espouses, and have chosen this moment to advance the acceptance of practices and ways of life that the Church cannot and will never condone. Sadly, even among the baptized, there are those at extremes within the Church who have chosen to exploit the vulnerability of the bishops in this moment to advance their own agendas. One cannot fail to hear in the distance — and sometimes very nearby —the call of the false prophet, ‘Let us strike the shepherd and scatter the flock.’ We bishops need to recognize this call and to name it clearly for what it is.”
Outside of the bishops’ meeting, a broad, far-ranging conversation was under way about the future of the Church — including the roles of women and gays, priestly celibacy, the hierarchy's authority, and other questions the bishops wouldn't touch. Boston College, the preeminent Catholic university in the Archdiocese of Boston, kicked off a multiyear effort exploring issues challenging the Church and drew thousands to its inaugural event. Regis College, a Catholic women's college in Weston, Massachusetts, held a fiery two-day event to discuss the role of women in the Church. Even Tufts University, which is not Catholic, launched a new course entitled “Catholicism in Crisis.”
The bishops themselves had set in motion a lay effort of unpredictable results: they chose Oklahoma governor Frank Keating, a former FBI agent, local prosecutor, state lawmaker, U.S. attorney, and top official in the Reagan and Bush administrations, to head a national lay review board charged with producing a series of reports examining what went wrong in the Church.
“Even if I wanted to proselytize my son-in-law, how would I do it now?” Keating asked in September. “How could I talk about virtue, when there is this evil, black soil?”
The Church's deepest thinkers, its theologians, called for a broad conversation about the Church. The president of the Catholic Theological Society of America asked three top theologians to prepare a discussion paper for the group's June convention in New Orleans, and the consensus was clear: “The scandals facing the Church today have led us to conclude that a thoroughgoing Church reform is both legitimate and necessary,” they said.
By the time Law quit, Church officials were trying to cast the most positive light on the situation, suggesting that, at last, the Church could move on.
“Let us all pray that this is another step, along with the new U.S. Bishops’ Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People, that will advance the healing from this tragic chapter in the history of the Catholic Church in America,” said Archbishop Harry J. Flynn of Saint Paul and Minneapolis.
And Cardinal William H. Keeler of Baltimore declared, “I join Cardinal Law in praying that this will be an act of purification for our Church, allowing us to begin healing and reconciliation. Many people have suffered. Trust has been betrayed. Yet, now is not the time to turn away. It is time for us to come together to answer scandal with witness and service, rededicating ourselves to lifting up Christ's call to holiness and hope.”
But victims were unsatisfied, saying they wanted to see other bishops ousted and even taken to court. Two days after Law resigned, a handful of protesters showed up at Boston's Cathedral of the Holy Cross. “Law's gone — the fight goes on,” read one sign. “Let the dominos fall,” read another. One quoted Winston Churchill: “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”
“This was just the tip of the iceberg,” said Kathy Dwyer of Braintree, Massachusetts, one of the protesters. “’We've got a lot more to take care of.”
A somber Cardinal Law made one final appearance in 2002, speaking for about three minutes to a group of reporters hastily summoned to a church library near his house. As a deafening roar of camera shutters tracked his every expression, Law said he could never have imagined a story that would end this way. He said he planned to take a vacation, go on retreat to a monastery, and then move someplace outside the Archdiocese of Boston.
“The course of events in recent months has certainly been different than anything I, or others, would have predicted on the occasion of my installation more than eighteen years ago,” he said. “To all those who have suffered from my shortcomings and from my mistakes, I once again apologize, and from them, I beg forgiveness.”
Michael Paulson
December 19, 2002
November 2, 1980. Rev. John J. Geoghan, answering a note from the late Cardinal Humberto S. Medeiros extending his sick leave, says he is receiving excellent medical care from two doctors and expects to return to service soon.
BOSTON CLINICAL ASSOCIATES, INC.
JOHN H. GRENHAM M.D.
17 HENSHAW STREET
BRIGHTON, MASSACHUSETTS 02135
TELEPHONE 707-3210
January 13, 1981
Most Reverend Bishop Thomas V. Daley
Archdiocese of Boston
One Lake Street
Brighton, Massachusetts 02135
Re: Reverend John J. Geoghan37 Pelton StreetWest Roxbury, Massachusetts 02032
Your Excellency:
I met with Father Geoghan in my office on the 12th of January and it was mutually agreed that he was now able to resume his priestly duties.
If you would like to have me talk with you or to write to you about this matter, Father Geoghan has given me permission to do so.
Respectfully,
John H. Brennan, M.D.
JHB:eg
January 13, 1981. Psychiatrist John H. Brennan tells Bishop Thomas V. Daily that Geoghan is “now able to resume his priestly duties.”
CHANCERY
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BRIGHTON, MASSACHUSETTS 02032
OFFICE OF THE CHANCELLOR
