March 6, 2002
A Crisis of Clergy, Not of Faith
By LISA SOWLE CAHILL
BOSTON - More than 80 priests have been accused of
sexual molestation in the archdiocese of Boston. This
scandal - and similar allegations of abuse in
Philadelphia, New Hampshire and Maine - does more than
simply reveal an institution in crisis. It calls into
question the credibility of the Roman Catholic Church
in America.
The church and its bishops want to provide moral
leadership for Catholics and non-Catholics alike, not
only on issues like abortion but also on capital
punishment, health care, welfare reform and foreign
policy. Their traditional commitment has been to stand
up for the rights of society's vulnerable. But
revelations that the church has allowed some members of
the clergy known to be pedophiles to remain in the
ministry may call the sincerity of this commitment into
doubt.
Catholics who are divorced and remarried, for instance,
or openly gay, cannot fully participate in the rites of the church. Yet priests who have committed a worse offense against Catholic teaching can administer those same rites. It is not necessary to agree or disagree with any
particular Catholic teaching to object to the hypocrisy
of the church's position.
Moral authority depends on credibility, which in turn
requires honesty. The cover-up of the church's
pedophile scandal - in Boston, officials admitted to
settling claims after The Boston Globe published a
series of investigative articles about the problem -
exposes the weaknesses of a virtually all-male
decision-making structure, which puts a high priority
on secrecy and image. There is little concern for
transparency and accountability, even to its own
regulations against allowing accused pedophiles to
minister to youth.
The problem is not simply celibacy; religiously
committed celibates can and do lead lives of service
and commitment. The problem is a closed society largely
insulated from the realities and values of ordinary
people and in denial of many aspects of human
sexuality. In such an atmosphere men who molest young
boys can find opportunity and refuge. Protecting the
reputation of the institution is more important than
protecting the welfare of children. Most parents know
that children's safety must be the highest priority of
anyone entrusted with their care. Most institutions
that deal with children, like schools or even sports
leagues, are much more open about their policies.
These institutional flaws, unfortunately, reach far
beyond Boston. A culture of control and complacency
reaches all the way to Rome. In the church, a pervasive
authoritarian mentality hurts the clergy and laity
both. Church staff members and parishioners
unquestioningly accept clerical actions and decisions,
even where children are involved. Bishops capitulate to
Vatican expectations that they avoid public
embarrassment at any cost, often by paying off victims.
What can the church do to restore its moral authority
and regain a respected voice in our national debate? It
might start by establishing judicious policies to deal
fairly and legally with facts and accusations, and
committing publicly to a more open and collaborative
model of governance - including women and lay men at
the highest levels, for instance. Such changes would be
difficult under the current leadership, especially in
the face of Vatican opposition.
Fortunately, the Roman Catholic Church is more than its
bureaucracy. There are many priests and pastors, and
even some bishops, who share the bewilderment and anger of their congregations and are struggling with them for justice and reconciliation. And there is the strength
of the laity itself.
Letters, petitions and public demonstrations are not
likely to make much of a difference; they are too easy
for unrepentant bishops and Vatican officials to
ignore. One approach that could force the church
bureaucracy to listen is for all Catholics to withhold
funds from diocesan and Vatican collections and
organizations. This may seem severe, but at least in
the short term, change requires this kind of jolt.
Far-reaching reform can only take place when lay people
have a more powerful voice in church decisions, on both
the local and national levels. This does not
necessarily mean that they must organize in opposition
to their pastors, for many priests are allies in this
struggle. It is merely to say that lasting
institutional change will require the equal
participation of the laity, priests, bishops and the
Vatican itself.
This crisis may mobilize Catholics to demand a greater
role in the church, and in doing so they may strengthen
its moral authority and enlarge its sense of
responsibility. Better yet, it may help them to realize
that the future of any religious tradition, no matter
how ancient, is in the hands of all its believers.
Lisa Sowle Cahill is a professor of theology and ethics
at Boston College.
A Crisis of Clergy, Not of Faith
By LISA SOWLE CAHILL
BOSTON - More than 80 priests have been accused of
sexual molestation in the archdiocese of Boston. This
scandal - and similar allegations of abuse in
Philadelphia, New Hampshire and Maine - does more than
simply reveal an institution in crisis. It calls into
question the credibility of the Roman Catholic Church
in America.
The church and its bishops want to provide moral
leadership for Catholics and non-Catholics alike, not
only on issues like abortion but also on capital
punishment, health care, welfare reform and foreign
policy. Their traditional commitment has been to stand
up for the rights of society's vulnerable. But
revelations that the church has allowed some members of
the clergy known to be pedophiles to remain in the
ministry may call the sincerity of this commitment into
doubt.
Catholics who are divorced and remarried, for instance,
or openly gay, cannot fully participate in the rites of the church. Yet priests who have committed a worse offense against Catholic teaching can administer those same rites. It is not necessary to agree or disagree with any
particular Catholic teaching to object to the hypocrisy
of the church's position.
Moral authority depends on credibility, which in turn
requires honesty. The cover-up of the church's
pedophile scandal - in Boston, officials admitted to
settling claims after The Boston Globe published a
series of investigative articles about the problem -
exposes the weaknesses of a virtually all-male
decision-making structure, which puts a high priority
on secrecy and image. There is little concern for
transparency and accountability, even to its own
regulations against allowing accused pedophiles to
minister to youth.
The problem is not simply celibacy; religiously
committed celibates can and do lead lives of service
and commitment. The problem is a closed society largely
insulated from the realities and values of ordinary
people and in denial of many aspects of human
sexuality. In such an atmosphere men who molest young
boys can find opportunity and refuge. Protecting the
reputation of the institution is more important than
protecting the welfare of children. Most parents know
that children's safety must be the highest priority of
anyone entrusted with their care. Most institutions
that deal with children, like schools or even sports
leagues, are much more open about their policies.
These institutional flaws, unfortunately, reach far
beyond Boston. A culture of control and complacency
reaches all the way to Rome. In the church, a pervasive
authoritarian mentality hurts the clergy and laity
both. Church staff members and parishioners
unquestioningly accept clerical actions and decisions,
even where children are involved. Bishops capitulate to
Vatican expectations that they avoid public
embarrassment at any cost, often by paying off victims.
What can the church do to restore its moral authority
and regain a respected voice in our national debate? It
might start by establishing judicious policies to deal
fairly and legally with facts and accusations, and
committing publicly to a more open and collaborative
model of governance - including women and lay men at
the highest levels, for instance. Such changes would be
difficult under the current leadership, especially in
the face of Vatican opposition.
Fortunately, the Roman Catholic Church is more than its
bureaucracy. There are many priests and pastors, and
even some bishops, who share the bewilderment and anger of their congregations and are struggling with them for justice and reconciliation. And there is the strength
of the laity itself.
Letters, petitions and public demonstrations are not
likely to make much of a difference; they are too easy
for unrepentant bishops and Vatican officials to
ignore. One approach that could force the church
bureaucracy to listen is for all Catholics to withhold
funds from diocesan and Vatican collections and
organizations. This may seem severe, but at least in
the short term, change requires this kind of jolt.
Far-reaching reform can only take place when lay people
have a more powerful voice in church decisions, on both
the local and national levels. This does not
necessarily mean that they must organize in opposition
to their pastors, for many priests are allies in this
struggle. It is merely to say that lasting
institutional change will require the equal
participation of the laity, priests, bishops and the
Vatican itself.
This crisis may mobilize Catholics to demand a greater
role in the church, and in doing so they may strengthen
its moral authority and enlarge its sense of
responsibility. Better yet, it may help them to realize
that the future of any religious tradition, no matter
how ancient, is in the hands of all its believers.
Lisa Sowle Cahill is a professor of theology and ethics
at Boston College.