Controversial Rev. James Scahill Spoke Words That Needed Saying

By Ron Chimelis
The Republican
May 5, 2014

http://www.masslive.com/opinion/index.ssf/2014/05/controversial_rev_james_scahil.html

In a 2004 meeting, Stephen Block of Springfield, a victim of clergy sex abuse, thanks the Rev. James J. Scahill for his support at St. Michael's Roman Catholic Church in East Longmeadow. (Republican file photo)

A friend tells me that what this country needs are "30,000 nuns with rulers.''

He believed society is weakened when an accepted moral compass, which may not be specific and need not be limited to one religious viewpoint, disappears entirely. He fears that is happening in America, where views and actions based purely on morality are often derided as naive, outdated or impractical.

Rev. James Scahill might not have had the physical clout of 30,000 nuns with rulers, but to many observers both in and out of the Catholic Church, announcement of his retirement provoked feelings that one distinctly moral individual was leaving the scene.

Not everyone agreed with the methods of Rev. Scahill, who attracted national attention for his outspoken criticism of the way the Catholic Church handled sex abuse allegations among its clergy. People I highly respect told me that even such a well-intentioned public stance risked making every priest a freelancer, able to pursue his own agenda at the cost of a consistent and necessary doctrine.

It's a fair concern. What he offered, though, was something desperateIy needed at the time - the truth.

I never met Rev. Scahill, who served St. Michael's Parish, but I almost did. When my wife and I decided to raise our daughter as a Catholic, there was some discussion of which church to attend.

I believed in God but, for lack of a better term, was religiously unaffiliated. The church scandals did not turn me against Catholicism, but it did make me reluctant to cast my lot as an active member.

This made me no different than millions of Americans who were either leaving the church or questioning the moral integrity of being in it.

The one church that appealed to me was in East Longmeadow, where Rev. Scahill was putting words and anguish to what so many of us were thinking, but which the church hierarchy was choosing to ignore.

In layman's terms, he "got it.'' To many of us, that this attitude ran counter to the church's stance was not an indictment of Rev. Scahill, but of a church that had become sadly detached from its own flock.

Eventually, we wound up in a wonderful parish in Chicopee. I decided to embrace the faith, beyond simply bringing my daughter to church, and I called a devout Catholic friend so he could cheer me on.

Instead, he wished me luck but said his own involvement had diminished from disillusionment. I came to learn that several of my childhood friends, all raised in strict Catholic households, had similarly turned away.

And I wondered if a few more James Scahills could have kept them involved, if only by making known that their outrage was understood and shared by someone from within the church itself.

Only recently have a broader section of clergy, with Pope Francis leading the way, realized that only about speaking frankly about the scandals - and not changing the subject or shaming those who brought it up - could true healing begin and future correction be assured.

Rev. Scahill was a human being with flaws. Two years ago, he was charged with drunken driving.

I am sure some people were disappointed that such a high-profile man of morality had erred. No doubt there were others who giggled at how even this do-gooder had problems.

I suspect many more felt compassion for him, because in their view, this priest had been a man of the people - and people, even those who wear holy robes, make mistakes.

It is much more difficult to establish a moral standard in today's society and moreover, sell it to a wide audience. Social and traditional media are everywhere, peppering us with alternatives - some good, some not.

An increasingly diverse society does not carry the same assumptions and preconceived beliefs as they did when 30,000 nuns with rulers really did exist, ready to whack the moral drifters in line.

In this changing and volatile culture, Rev. Scahill was willing to stand up and say what was obvious to everybody, or so it seemed, except those in position to do something about it. He was a pioneer because more members of the Catholic Church, starting at the very top, are confronting and speaking frankly about it today.

It doesn't make him perfect, but he never promised to be. To those of us whose relationship with the Catholic Church was not a family heirloom but a reasoned commitment after much thought and observation, it does mean he will be greatly missed.

You can't beat morality into modern Americans with 30,000 rulers, but one voice of truth can make a difference. That is the legacy of Rev. Scahill. Count me among those who never met him but wish him the best.