BishopAccountability.org
	Former Principal Was Nothing like a Saint By Lou Sessinger Phillyburbs December 23, 2007 http://www.phillyburbs.com/pb-dyn/news/137-12232007-1460873.html Perhaps it was because I'd recently visited the medieval Italian town of Assisi that I couldn't avoid the disturbing irony in the story about the Rev. Charles Newman, former principal and president of Philadelphia's Archbishop Ryan High School. Authorities last week charged the priest with stealing at least $900,000 from the Catholic high school and from the Franciscan religious order of which he is a member. Some of the money, according to the charges, was given to a former student Newman had sexually abused to support the young man's drug addiction. The man's 2004 lawsuit against the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, the Franciscan religious order, the high school and church leaders, alleging that Newman repeatedly seduced him with drugs while he was a student between 1994 and 1996, was dismissed because the statute of limitations had run out. Newman was fired in 2003. His alleged victim died of a drug overdose in 2006. Philadelphia District Attorney Lynne Abraham said of Newman: "Instead of a living a life of poverty, chastity and obedience, (he) chose a life of sexual debauchery, lechery, lying and stealing." St. Francis of Assisi, the founder of the religious order that bears his name, is one of the Catholic Church's most beloved saints. His universal appeal even extends to non-Catholics and non-Christians. He is the patron saint of Italy and the patron saint of ecology and the environment, a reflection of his reverence for nature and all its creatures. Francis was a simple, peaceful, humble man who gave away all his possessions and devoted his life to caring for the poor and the ill and to spreading the message of Christ. But he didn't start out that way. The young Francis, a son of a wealthy merchant, was something of a 13th-century playboy. "The Catholic Encyclopedia" says, "No one loved pleasure more than Francis; he had a ready wit, sang merrily, delighted in fine clothes and showy display. Handsome, gay, gallant, and courteous, he soon became the prime favorite among the young nobles of Assisi, the foremost in every feat of arms, the leader of the civil revels, the very king of frolic." He was a rich kid with a big allowance and spent his old man's money on lavish parties and games with his young friends. He was also a soldier, and when he was about 20 he was captured during a battle between the armies of Assisi and nearby Perugia. During his year as a prisoner of war, he began to think about eternity and the emptiness of his life. After his release he went back to his old party animal life, but he was haunted by his newly realized spirituality. In time, he gave away all he had — causing his father to disown him in anger — put on a simple, roughly woven, brown tunic bound by a knotted rope and devoted his life to acts of charity. He gradually attracted followers, some of them wealthy men and women as he had been, who abandoned worldly pursuits and pleasures in favor of a life of poverty, faith and devotion. One of those followers, almost nine centuries after Francis' death, is the Rev. Charles Newman. But something twisted and perverted apparently happened to him somewhere along the line, or maybe the temptations of the flesh had been too powerfully with him all his life. While Francis was able to renounce the so-called sins of the flesh and replace them with the pursuit of more spiritual goals, Father Newman apparently couldn't or simply didn't. His is a modern day morality tale, one that is all too familiar as it is old. There is a cancerous worm lurking always near the human heart. It was recognized in the days of Francis of Assisi as it was centuries before he walked the green hills of Umbria. The tiny beast is there as it has always been, and when it bites it leaves a searing wound of sadness, tragedy and loss. Lou Sessinger is a columnist with The Intelligencer and phillyBurbs.com. He can be contacted at lsessinger@phillyBurbs.com or (215) 957-8172.
Any original material on these pages is copyright © BishopAccountability.org 2004. Reproduce freely with attribution.