Chicago Catholic News
June 14, 2010
http://www.chicagocatholicnews.com/2010/06/new-column-church-reporter-by-jim.html
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Our Lady of Perpetual Help parish in Glenview (OLPH) hosted a discussion of clergy sex abuse on June 7. Featured speakers were Michael Bland, a therapist and himself an abuse survivor and former priest, and Rev. Larry McBrady, a former vicar for priests in the archdiocese.
Bland had delivered a stemwinder of a speech about his own experience, an "impact statement," in 2002 at the bishops' meeting in Dallas, where he said movingly of his abuse experience:
My life was changed in ways I could never have imagined. I continue to be victimized because the perpetrating priest has something that was stolen from me -- my youthful innocence and my priesthood. At times I am still plagued with questions starting with "what if . . ." -- questions that can never be answered.
He spoke as a survivor who had made a new life for himself that included becoming a layman, a facilitator of healing and a trusted advisor to the U.S. hierarchy.
On Monday night in Glenview, he was entirely the latter, on hand "neither to defend nor apologize for the Church," and for the most part delivered on that statement of purpose.
He produced "shocking figures" of sex abuse of under-age Americans: one in four girls, one in 10 boys, for an "underreported" total of 39 million. It was an exercise in context explanation for a hundred or so parishioners and others gathered in an auditorium, a mostly older group of varying degrees of awareness of the situation and concern for the Church, to judge from questions asked.
The issue hadn't arisen until the '80s, Bland explained. Only in 1979 was reporting of abuse mandated civilly. In 1984, a Louisiana priest was the first to be accused. He is still in prison, Bland said.
In the next few years, the bishops promulgated five principles: respond promptly, remove and rehabilitate the perpetrator, report the accusation to law enforcement authorities, reach out to victims, be open with the public.
He gave a date in January 2002, asking "Who knows what happened" on that day? No one did. It was the first Boston Globe article of a series about abuse by priests. The Globe "continued to hound the story." Boston became "the epicenter" of the clergy-abuse crisis.
In March the bishops moved. A commission was formed. Bland was a member, with Chicago judge Anne Burke and others. They submitted a plan to head bishop Wilton Gregory, a former Chicago auxiliary, then of Atlanta, who gave the go-ahead in two days.
The bishops dropped their agenda for the coming meeting -- "the first time they ever did so," Bland said. It was part of his evening-long emphasis on their strong response to the challenge. But gathered together in a meeting, they were "like a union hall," full of competing interests and owing allegiance each individually to Rome.
As it happened, they devised a charter, a 17-point plan of how to deal with the problem, as in seeking to "ensure accountability of procedures," Bland explained.
He offered sometimes complicated details in an extended explanation, not always giving a clear nub. He emphasized that 96 percent of priests were not offenders, allowing, however, that not all offenses were reported.
Offenses peaked in the mid-'70s in absolute numbers, making a bell curve that depicted an improving situation. From the audience came the question-objection: Fewer cases in recent years, but fewer priests, right?
Bland conceded that. Percentages had not changed. A consistent 3 to 5 percent were offenders. As numbers of priests declined, so did offenses. The good-news bell curve was misleading.
Bland noted that most abuse is by married men (by definition not Catholic priests). "Apples and oranges," this listener interjected (as others had). "Anyone can be married, not everyone can become a priest." The priesthood is a highly selective occupation.
"Good people do bad things," Bland said, leaving unaddressed the questions: It's not worse when they do them? More is not expected of a group traditionally held in such high esteem?
Another from the floor: "If this is a societal issue [as Bland had been explaining it], why focus on the Church?" It was a question based -- probably unwittingly -- on the assumption that the Church is not unique and does not make heavy claims on people's credibility and trust.
Bland responded at first in a way -- also unwittingly -- to justify the assumption, citing a study that found that 5.8 percent of school teachers have abused children. This brought gasps from the audience. He noted also that abuse in a family situation goes unreported: children don't go to the media to complain about their parents. Nor do they sue, he might have added.
The issue about singling out the Church was put by another questioner in a different way: "What percentage of rabbis [perpetrate abuse]? Or Protestant ministers or Muslim clergy?" The questioner made the latter reference hesitantly, in part because of expressed uncertainty about the proper title, in part perhaps because of Muslims' semi-protected status in our time of tip-toeing through war-on-terror sensitivities.
"Welcome to being Catholic," responded Bland, then noted that the Catholic hierarchy is visible and accountable -- a good target, he might have said, and a well-heeled one -- as opposed to churches with congregational governance, or synagogues. Or mosques, he might also have said.
The reporting is incomplete, said a questioner, can it be made more complete? Is the Church trying to discover the remaining unreported? (The questioning so far, some 45 minutes into the program, mostly about data, was veering toward Church-response issues.)
Fr. McBrady referred to Rev. Thomas Hickey, the OLPH pastor. "Loyola Academy [in nearby Wilmette] sent out 28,000 letters in [the Rev. Larry] Reuter case, asking people to come forth," he said. "Is this a one-time response or the general rule?" asked the man. "The general rule," said Fr. Hickey.
Another asked, "Why is it that almost all of the abused are boys, because priests spend more time with boys?"
"Possibly," said Bland, ignoring the hot-potato same-sex attraction factor, which I asked him about later. In other remarks, Bland eliminated the gay-priest factor, among others commonly raised, including mandatory celibacy.
Privately, after the meeting, however, he advised a questioner, me, to look for a report on same-sex issues due in February from the John Jay College of Criminal Justice, in New York City, which has been researching abuse issues for the U.S. bishops since 2002. The matter is apparently not yet decided.
"What are we [Church authorities] doing to prevent abuse?" asked a man. "Are we screening better?"
Yes, said Bland, without elaborating. Oddly, in this observer's view. Either Bland felt he doesn't know enough about new screening mechanisms -- at least one diocese has been rejecting gay applicants -- or he preferred not to get into it. The evening's session had almost nothing on the point.
"Are lawsuits pursued for the money?" a man asked.
"It would be naive to say attorneys are not making money on this," Bland responded. "Some victims have come forward for a piece of the pie. Not to say they are not wounded. But money doesn't give the healing." He told of a man who won a big sum, then committed suicide.
"My issue is trust," said another questioner. "The perpetrator is sick. [But] the hierarchy is ego-centered, power-hungry, eager to preserve their power." Theirs is "a little club," he concluded, to applause. When this man had mentioned Cardinal Bernard Law of Boston -- transferred in 2002 in the wake of highly publicized abuse scandals to a major Rome pastorate while keeping his appointments to eight Vatican commissions -- there were groans and murmurs.
"Law's name always gets a reaction," commented Fr. McBrady. "I don't approve of Law's promotion. In a corporate situation, do as he did, you're out. The pope, to earn trust, must reverse this. But [while objecting to this] let's not lose sight of the believing people."
From a man seeming to look for some revision of the current charged scenario: "Against how many priests is there only one complaint?"
Bland had that figure: 56 percent. He added that abuse by non-celibate (married) clergy is more common, in their case mostly of female parishioners. Audience gasps at this.
A man questioned zero tolerance as a fit strategy.
"Restoring trust is crucial," responded Fr. McBrady, who recalled as a newly ordained 26-year-old in 1971 hearing confidences unasked, his word taken as important, if not gospel. He was making the obvious point about trust being no longer what it used to be. Bland said he called for zero tolerance in Dallas in 2002 for that reason.
"No room for forgiveness?" a man asked, to which Bland: Yes, but forgiveness is not the same as reinstatement.
Bland brightened considerably to see a hand raised in the back. "That's my boss," he said.
This was Paul Giblin, director of Loyola University's Institute for Pastoral Studies, where Bland teaches part-time. Giblin had no question but instead offered his "fantasy of a new view of sexuality coming" to the Church. He did not elaborate on this, nor did Bland take him up on his fantasy.
He did, however, note that this was "a new time for empowerment of laity," presumably because of a current renewed emphasis on the importance of Catholic non-clergy at a time of increased mistrust of clergy.
This did not become a new point of discussion, however. If it had, there would have been a chance for Giblin to explain the new view he was fantasizing.
But it was neither time nor place for discussing this and two other issues floating about the clergy-abuse scandal, namely mandatory celibacy and the existence, if not prevalence of same-sex attraction among clergy. The coming report from John Jay College -- in February, mentioned above -- might shed light on these and other matters.
Meanwhile, the meeting in Glenview offered people a good chance for discussion and education on the issue.
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