Editorial
Secrets, Sins and Silence
Problem Priests
St. Louis Post-Dispatch
November 17, 2004
Secrets, Sins and Silence
• Part 1: The Untold Story of Sexual Abuse at St. Thomas Aquinas Seminary, by Phillip O'Connor, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 13, 2004
• Part 2: Coming to Terms, Confronting the Church, by Phillip O'Connor, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 15, 2004
• Dad Is Haunted by Family Friend's Abuse of Son, by Phillip O'Connor, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 15, 2004
• Part 3: As Scandal Breaks, Search for Truth Begins, by Phillip O'Connor, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 16, 2004
• Five Dioceses Agreed to Help One Sexual Abuse Victim, by Tim Townshend, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 16, 2004
• Timeline, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 16, 2004
• Sins and Silence: Problem Priests, Editorial, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 17, 2004
[See also Will public debriding bring private healing of the wounds at St. Thomas Aquinas? by Bishop John R. Gaydos, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November 22, 2004.]
The Rev. Donald Cozzens, a psychologist, theologian and Catholic priest, has explained his church's attitude toward the scandal of clerical sex abuse by quoting, of all people, the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: "Of necessity," Nietzsche wrote in "The Antichrist," "the party man becomes a liar."
In his 2002 book "Sacred Silence: Denial and Crisis in the Church," Father Cozzens suggests too many of the church's leaders are "party men." When the "party," i.e., the church, comes under fire, they reflexively rush to its defense, even at the risk of the greater good. To party men, Father Cozzens says, the reputation of the institutional church is more important than the well-being of the church's members, the "body of Christ."
Father Cozzens' explanation came to mind this week on two occasions. The first was the end of Belleville Bishop Wilton D. Gregory's three-year term as president of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. The second was the publication of Post-Dispatch reporter Phillip O'Connor's searing three-part series into sexual abuse at the now-closed St. Thomas Aquinas Seminary in Hannibal, Mo.
Bishop Gregory's term as president of the bishops' conference barely had begun when the church was rocked by scandal over sexual abuse, mostly of young boys, by Catholic priests. What began in Boston in January 2002 quickly spread throughout the nation. Under intense public pressure, the bishops ordered two studies of the extent of the abuse. The studies concluded that at least 4,392 priests -- 4 percent of all those serving between 1950 and 2002 -- had been accused of sexually abusing 10,667 children. And because many victims never come forward, the studies said, the numbers likely were considerably higher.
Under Bishop Gregory's leadership, the U.S. bishops developed new procedures for handling abuse reports and agreed to annual performance audits. Bishop Gregory found himself pilloried by both liberals and conservatives, but -- given only reluctant cooperation by the Vatican -- probably brought the U.S. church as far forward as currently possible.
He will be succeeded by Bishop William S. Skylstad of Spokane, Wash., another relatively open churchman, though one who plans to place his diocese under bankruptcy protection later this month.
It thus appears that the church's progress toward openness will be measured at best. The church will have failed to learn more from what occurred at places like St. Thomas Aquinas Seminary in Hannibal.
As Mr. O'Connor reported, at least five former seminarians now say publicly that they were abused during the 1970s and 1980s by faculty members at St. Thomas Aquinas, which served the Diocese of Jefferson City. At least 10 other former students have told lawyers, counselors or family members privately that they were abused.
The diocese closed the seminary and sold the property but has been less than forthcoming about what happened there over the years. Despite pledges of candor from the bishops' conference, abuse victims told the Post-Dispatch that the abuse was far more widespread and took place far more recently than the diocese has acknowledged.
Bishop John R. Gaydos of Jefferson City refused to be interviewed for the series, citing the "well-deserved confidentiality" of the victims. Yet the victims have spoken out. It is the party that is being protected.
The pain and sense of betrayal felt by the victims is palpable in Mr. O'Connor's reporting. As teenage boys, they were lured into sexual activity by predators who included the dean of students, Father James P. McNally, and the man who ran St. Thomas Aquinas, Father Anthony J. O'Connell.
Mr. O'Connell later became a bishop himself, in Knoxville, Tenn., and Palm Beach, Fla., before resigning after an accuser came forward in 2002. Like many of his fellow predator-priests, Mr. O'Connell has escaped criminal prosecution because the victims came forward only after they were adults and the criminal statute of limitations had expired.
The details are stomach-turning: recruitment, seduction, abuse of trust, even the use of a large stuffed hippopotamus named "Clyde" as a sexual toy. Later, thousands of dollars of what appeared to be hush money exchanged hands, to the credit of neither the accuser nor the accused.
The Catholic church would like to think the sexual abuse crisis is behind it. That's not likely until more of its leaders acknowledge the primacy of its people -- not its priests and not the party.
|