2002 Ad

The year 2002 was a very bad year for the Catholic Church in the United States. This year could be much worse. California has temporarily lifted the statute of limitations on sexual-abuse cases. Some bishops are engaged in increasingly open efforts to limit the role of the National Review Board that has been appointed to investigate the abuse scandal. Vatican restorationists and their U.S. supporters seem determined to use the crisis to promote their agenda on matters of sex, authority, and ministry. In 1992, University of Notre Dame historian Jay Dolan wrote that the revelation of clerical sexual abuse and its cover-up by bishops was the most serious crisis in the history of American Catholicism. A decade later we have to say, sadly, it's not over.

One reason it's not over is the absence of leadership in the American Catholic community. The vacuum is obvious among the bishops; even the best of them have found it difficult to explain the situation, communicate regret, accept responsibility, and inspire confidence. Even more striking in some ways is the paralysis of priests, religious orders, leaders of Catholic institutions, scholars, artists, journalists, and lay people generally. Few Catholic leaders have found a national audience. Given the outrage of Catholics across the county, the membership and financial resources of the Boston-based reform group Voice of the Faithful (VOTF) remain surprisingly modest. Contributions to the church seem to be down, clearly so in the Northeast. Still, few people suggest applying financial pressure to bring about change, such as improved monetary accountability. When Catholic philanthropists urged the bishops to make public the costs of the abuse settlements and lawsuits, they were turned down. Few Catholics seemed to notice.

Even supporters of a stronger lay voice seem quick to criticize VOTF, worrying that its support for "structural change" and its democratic spirit might lead down a slippery slope to Unitarianism. That suspicion shows little confidence in the intelligence or commitment of ordinary Catholics. Most Catholics remain reluctant to criticize even the most transparently wrong-headed comments from Rome. Think of various curial officials' insistence that the crisis arises from chronic moral laxity and permissiveness. Or of the Vatican statement last November on the priesthood that was almost hysterical in its fear that priestly dignity will be destroyed by an overactive laity. Instead of challenging such statements, most involved Catholics who get quoted by the press repeat the same mantra: The crisis should not be used to promote an "agenda." That agenda apparently includes reforms like admitting married men, even women, to the priesthood and taking a critical look at current teaching and pastoral practice on human sexuality. Even the strongest lay voices stay carefully within the accepted boundaries of Catholic discussion. They almost always point out those boundaries by distancing themselves from Garry Wills, James Carroll, and, of course, Call to Action.

Self-defined moderates, standing between the so-called left and right, hardly notice that there is almost no organized support for the middle ground. The irony here, of course, is that moderate positions on sexuality, women, ministry, and social justice correspond to the views of most Catholics. Moderate views also, probably and properly, correspond to pastoral practice almost everywhere. Yet institutional and political support for this middle, or common, ground remains elusive. This is not surprising for an array of reasons.

* Parish priests are badly organized and what structural advocacy exists for them is devoted to the historic agenda known as priests' rights. Hardly heard from before the bishops' June meeting in Dallas, the National Federation of Priests' Councils rushed to uphold priests' canonical rights. The federation wanted to insure that, within the church, cases of abuse are processed in clerical courts. VOTF supports "priests of integrity," and in Boston some priests formed an independent forum. A few eventually demanded Cardinal Bernard Law's resignation. Still, around New England, diocesan priests for the most part stick to their parishes, speak well of the laity, and hope for the best.

* Aside from a similar defense of their canonical rights, male religious orders, which long carried the agenda of church reform, are quiet and seem detached from ecclesiastical politics. Female religious orders, of course, never gained entry to the arena of church politics and no one is rushing to let them in now. To be sure, religious orders are distracted by massive internal problems such as caring for aging members, maintaining historic institutional commitments in education, health care, and social services, and dealing with their own cases of sexual abuse. Moreover, many younger religious women, and some men, devote themselves to worthy vocations outside the church and take little notice of ecclesiastical policy. Although superiors of religious orders keep open lines of communication with the hierarchy, more than a few religious shrug their shoulders when people begin talking about "the institutional church." Every reform movement of recent years--charismatic renewal, divorced and separated Catholics, women's ordination, and the peace movement--drew leadership and support from nuns, brothers, and religious-order priests. They are badly needed now, but almost invisible.