“The pedophilia scandals have shed a pitiless light on management and disciplinary structures within the Church; on the problems of recruiting and training `healthy’ men willing to live by the rule of celibacy; on the stresses and isolation of the priestly life .”
The above comes from Charles R. Morris’ American Catholic: The Saints and Sinners Who Built America’s Most Powerful Church. In the same book, Morris also writes: “Dioceses have greatly improved their handling of misconduct complaints but only after ten years of headlines ..” The book was published in 1997. Note the words “greatly improved.”
As of yesterday, according to The New York Times, the Archdiocese of Boston had “tentatively agreed” to pay $20 million to $30 million to settle dozens of cases against a former priest accused of molesting nearly 200 children in six parishes over 30 years. Because of the attention devoted to this case, and because of the sleuthing by the Boston Globe, the Archdiocese has since released to prosecutors the names of nearly 90 priests accused of sexually abusing children at some point in the last 50 years.
“Hold it right there,” you might be saying; one eruption of pedophilia does not negate the Church’s improvement in these matters. But hold that thought and consider what Morris wrote, consider what is happening in the Boston Archdiocese and then consider this excerpt from the Feb. 25 edition of Newsweek:
“Following [Cardinal] Law’s lead, bishops in Manchester, N.H., and Portland, Maine, have agreed to turn over the names of alleged offenders to the authorities. On Friday [February 22] the Archdiocese of Philadelphia said it had found `credible evidence’ that 35 priests sexually abused children over five decades and that it had relieved several of them of their duties. Last week the Arizona Daily Star called for the resignation of Bishop Manuel D. Moreno of Tucson, after the disclosure that church officials had quietly paid millions of dollars in restitution to nine former altar boys. Plaintiffs’ attorneys say they’re receiving calls daily from victims in Maryland, New York, California, Iowa, Arizona and Illinois.”
Most of the charges outside of Boston are unproven, but the entire matter, as you might imagine, has produced a lot of opinion, most of it the outraged incomprehension of a sickened public. Eventually, though, the passage of time and the flow of human events will dissipate the anger’s energy. The inevitable relaxation of outrage suggests that if there ever will be sufficient support for implementation of corrective policies, it is now.
Two ways to address the sexual insidiousness are: 1) drop the ban on celibacy for diocesan priests (an allowable option in light of Catholic tradition), and 2) force those who remain celibate to live, like Jesuits or Franciscans, in community.
The ministry of diocesan priests is confined to a relatively small area (the radius of a parish), and unlike ordered priests, diocesan clergy generally aren’t expected to move from city to city or state to state at a moment’s notice. Nor must they sometimes live, as ordered priests do, in austerity, or under conditions that are unfit for children and mothers. A married diocesan clergy, therefore, is practically feasible and it might also encourage more vocations, which in turn could reduce the amount of time suspicious priests spend with children. The system would not be infallible, but none would be.
The other potential response is to mandate that diocesan priests live in communities. In community, priests can talk about their vows, their difficulties obeying them, and can find a fellowship that might nurture a healthy and lasting security with one’s sexuality. Though this remedy too would not deter a determined pedophile, the stability that comes with community might prove a partial antidote to the weirdness that can hatch from long periods of isolation. At the minimum, living in community would intensify scrutiny of potential problems. In a residence hall or a dorm-like house it is difficult to imagine how a sinister priest could get away with sustained abuse unnoticed.
On top of the terrible trauma perpetrated on dozens of children is the additional stain this scandal unfairly smears on thousands of priests-and sisters, perhaps-who truly are models of Christ. At the center of the accusations and recriminations sits an organization that has done more to protect the innocent and the vulnerable than any other institution in the history of the world. No one with any compassion wants to tug attention away from the true victims (the children), but the same sense of justice that recoils at the horror of pedophilia must also rise up to defend those facets of the Catholic Church that are unimpeachably righteous. It is, admittedly, an awkward task.
Over the next few months, people will be searching for reforms. Not all proposals will be plausible, and Catholics should caution against excessive self-flagellation, which is hollow sorrow. However, if the Church’s hierarchy is going to affirm the magnitude of its negligence, it cannot be dismissive of the love and the seriousness that will underscore many of the ideas for reform.
In the meantime, Cardinal Law should resign. It’s an overdue first step on the road to recovery.
Matt Emerson is a sophomore studying political science.
