NCR, Allen on The Pope's Problems

Former Vatican correspondent John Allen is one of the last people in the Church whom I would accuse of a cover-up. He's been well-known through the years as one who knows the Vatican scene extremely well and describes it with clarity and transparency. He's probably my favorite Church writer, and I feel I can count on him to give me the "straight stuff." So when his weekly blog chose to point out some widely distributed factual errors in the rising outcry about the Pope's handling of sex-abuse issues (see Keeping the Record Straight on Benedict and the Crisis), I pay attention.

He states: "...as always, the first casualty of any crisis is perspective. There are at least three aspects of Benedict's record on the sexual abuse crisis which are being misconstrued, or at least sloppily characterized, in today's discussion." He goes on affirm that: 1) as Cardinal Ratzinger, the pope was not the "Vatican point man, with responsibility for the sex abuse crisis, from 1981 thru 2005" as is widely stated, since bishops were not required to send these cases to the Vatican until 2001, unless abuse of the sacrament of Reconciliation was also involved; 2) his May 2001 letter to the world's bishops regarding secrecy was not a "smoking gun" ordering bishops to keep these matters secret, as it is being widely described, since he was dealing with secrecy required during the internal disciplinary process; and 3) the reports of 3000 cases being sent to Rome, of which only 20% proceeded to canonical trials, is not evidence of Vatican inaction on the other 80%, because "for the bulk of the cases, 60 percent, bishops were authorized to take immediate administrative action, because the proof was held to be overwhelming."

Allen says that he does not intend to excuse Pope Benedict, nor imply that these clarifications "suggest that Benedict's handling of the crisis -- in Munich, at the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, or as pope -- is somehow exemplary." Allen's paper, the National Catholic Reporter, has also just issued an editorial calling for the Vatican to "directly answer questions, in a credible forum, about his role -- as archbishop of Munich (1977-82), as prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (1982-2005), and as pope (2005-present) -- in the mismanagement of the clergy sex abuse crisis." The editorial, "Credibility Gap: Pope Needs to Answer Questions," merely voices what victims, the media, and probably most faithful Catholics have felt about these tragic events for years. As NCR puts it, this episode -- together with the Church's response in the past -- has an all-too-familiar ring:

"Like it or not, this new focus on the pope and his actions as an archbishop and Vatican official fits the distressing logic of this scandal. For those who have followed this tragedy over the years, the whole episode seems familiar: accusation, revelation, denial and obfuscation, with no bishop held accountable for actions taken on their watch."

As disgusting and revolting as the actions of priest perpetrators have been, as damaging as those actions were to their victims and their families, the response or lack thereof by many of our Church leaders -- then and now -- has damaged our Church more. Someone I love and respect said of these recent events: "I don't know if I can hang in there with our Church anymore; it just seems that our Institution is corrupt to the core."

This hits me in the stomach, and in the heart.

Another Take on the Bishops and Health Care Reform, From AMERICA Magazine

Here's another take on the Catholic bishops and Health Care Reform, written by Michael Sean Winters for America Magazine. He states:

The USCCB argues that people will be forced to pay for other people’s abortion. But, that is only the case if someone chooses a plan that covers abortion.

And he also points out:

The latest statements from the USCCB also fail to note the specific pro-life provisions of the current bill.... If the USCCB at least acknowledged these parts of the current bill that are pro-life, but still concluded it was insufficient, their stance would have more credibility. Their failure to acknowledge these provisions is difficult to explain.

He also seems to take a swipe at an alleged tie between the bishops and the National Right to Life committee:

It is troubling that the USCCB seems to be working hand-in-glove with the National Right to Life Committee, which has become, for all intents and purposes, an adjunct to the Republican Party.

And he takes on Richard Doerflinger, who is the associate director of the USCCB's Secretariat of Pro-Life Activities:

The USCCB point man on the pro-life issues is Mr. Richard Doerflinger. Mr. Doerflinger is undoubtedly sincere and undoubtedly smart. But, he tends to view all policy issues through a single lens, the lens of abortion policy and a certain way of approaching that policy... The bishops should be wary of following his way. Many commentators think he is mistaken in many of his assessments and prognostications, but even if he is not, the bishops should only risk defeating health care over a genuine moral principle, not because of anyone's guess about how market forces will react, or what insurance companies will do. Neither the House/Stupak bill nor the Senate bill provides government funding of abortion. That is a statement of fact, not a statement of opinion and Mr. Doerflinger is entitled to his own opinions but not to his own facts.

I do wish that the Senate had adopted the House's language on this issue -- we wouldn't have this wrangling. But in following this ongoing conversation back & forth, it seems to me that the Senate language might well be sufficient to meet the bishops' requirement of the government not funding abortion. However, I can't help myself: I do wish that I could hear this admission from the bishops directly.

***Another late addition to this post... there is another posting from the bishops on the USCCB website, available as of earlier today, going into more detail about their position. It contains several other links, going further into legal reasons for their stance. Worth the read.

The Bishops and Health Care Reform

When the House first passed its version of Health Care Reform, I was elated -- it seemed that we might at last succeed in having health care recognized and supported as a universal right, and that we might have finally found ways to contain the exploding costs of this care. In the succeeding months we have seen one disappointment after another, even as the Senate passed its version of reform. The mood of the country has soured. It seems that even those who "hunger and thirst for justice" have begun to question whether to support the bill that we have come down to.

The US Catholic Bishops seem to have reached that place, and their answer is a reluctant NO. Their letters earlier this week (you can find them here) reluctantly conclude they can't support the bill, and it's not only about abortion, although I don't doubt that's the main issue. More than that, they've urged parishioners across the country (our parish received a suggested bulletin flier a couple of hours ago) to contact their representatives with that message.

I'm very happy that our bishops are so actively involved in this justice issue -- and I know that it's NOT just because of the abortion angle. We're getting more active in other areas of social justice teaching. We've got a postcard campaign about immigration waiting to take off, and the Catholic Campaign Against Global Poverty is looking for a million Catholic voters to join, so I think it's clear that people concerned about justice issues are causing some movement within the Catholic Church. But I confess I'm also a little angry that we've come to the place where the official Church is now opposing something that we've supported for years.

The Inspiring Story of Sr. Marie Claude Naddaf

Today I read a blog written by Sr. Joan Chittister, who writes for the National Catholic Reporter. I receive her weekly blogs, but sometimes get too busy to follow them. This one was entitled "The Nun and Glenn Beck: a Standoff," and you can find it HERE. I haven't gotten into any of the Glenn Beck stuff (why patronize him?) , but the "nun" part got me. I thought that Sr. Joan was going to take him on, but instead it was a WONDERFUL story about Sr. Marie Claude Naddaf, a Christian in Syria, whose ministry led her to serve the victims in the sordid world of human trafficking. What a story! Here's a portion of the blog:

Sr. Marie Claude Naddaf is here to receive the U.S. State Department's "International Women of Courage Award." Given to 10 women around the globe who have shown "exceptional courage and leadership in advocating for women's rights and advancement," the awards purpose is to support women who are working for the equality of women everywhere.

Trained to be a social worker, she and her sisters are also trained to see the special needs of women and then do something about them. So, though she began her community's ministry in a center for adolescent girls -- teaching life skills, self-esteem and personal development -- she was also beginning to see the needs under their needs. She began to see that the self-esteem and personal development that her community tried to build up in women were being systematically destroyed, even in the home.

The domestic abuse of women made women domestic property everywhere. Not just in Syria, we know, but with a special twist there: In an 'honor culture,' the nerve of a woman to complain about the situation -- to be a bad wife--"dishonors" her family as much as the beatings dishonor her. This means there's no support for her from her family either. Marie Claude's work was cut out for her -- for anyone "with eyes to see and ears to hear," in fact. But few did....

o she opened the first shelters for beaten women in all of Syria and stood alone in that work for years. She began the first "Oasis Listening Center Hotline" to provide support for women in danger. She began programs in the shelter not simply to protect women physically but to provide psychological counseling, personal development courses, legal help and child care for them, as well....

Then, in 1996, she took a step that changed things again. This time for everyone.
She began, with the permission of the government, to visit women's prisons. She discovered there what few, if anyone, had ever bothered to notice before. Most of the women in prison for 'prostitution' or 'illegal entry' into the country were not prostitutes or border breakers at all. They were 'trafficked women.' They were women and girls who had been sold across national borders into the sex slave trade or seduced into it on the promise of a job or simply abducted into it off the streets as children.

The United Nations Population Fund estimates that every year anywhere from two to four million women or girls are sold across borders for the sake of commercial sex, abused laborers or servants. Of that number, 50,000 of them are brought to the United States where they are exploited, enslaved or physically violated. All of them without medical care or legal help.

Marie Claude won the right to have trafficked women in police custody released to a shelter rather than kept in prison. One month ago, thanks to the work of Marie Claude, Syria enacted its first law against the trafficking of human beings.

Of course, the trafficking of human beings goes on in our country too, and it takes many forms, in many places across the globe: • Forced Labor • Involuntary Domestic Servitude • Sex Trafficking • Child Sex Trafficking • Bonded Labor • Forced Child Labor • Child Soldiers • Debt Bondage Among Migrant Laborers. The U.S. State Department puts out an annual report that you can find HERE.

And the reference to Glenn Beck? If you're interested, check out Sr. Joan's blog.

Pray the Devil Back to Hell

Why is it that we seldom hear anything about films like this? I just finished reading John Dear's post in the National Catholic Reporter, inspired by the film "Pray the Devil Back to Hell," which tells the story of the women of Liberia, and of their nonviolent struggle to end the war in their country. A few tidbits:

"Liberia is a West African country of 3 million. American freed slaves founded it in 1847. But for more than a century, their descendents dominated the nation brutally. The people suffered under poverty and repression until, in 1989, civil war erupted. Matters grew worse; years of terror followed -- torture, rape, starvation and murder. By 2002, more than 20,000 had died; one in three was driven from his home.

"Then like thunder in a blue sky, the women of Liberia rose up. Together the women declared themselves sick of war, sick of rape, sick of starving. They wanted peace. And, against conventional wisdom, they worked for it nonviolently.

"The terror centered on Charles Taylor, at once a church-going Christian and a brutal tyrant. He came to power in 1996 -- a man, they say, who could offer you a warm smile, then order your execution. Some nights he led prayer services; the next day he ordered the massacre of his opponents. He conscripted battalions of young boys and gave them the taste of gratuitous killing. These were his death squads. Hiding behind them, he embezzled enormous sums from the national treasury...

"In June 2002, Leynab Gbowee had a dream. In it, she invited the women of Liberia to come to a church and there discuss how they might make peace. She awoke and pondered the matter and set about to make the dream true... They started off modestly, doing what they could. They prayed and fasted. Still, the killing went on. Rebels and warlords rampaged in the countryside; Taylor's death squads rampaged in the city. Everyone everywhere was terrorized. And in March 2003, the violence surged. Rebels went on a wide spree of rape, torture and murder. And thousands fled to Monrovia, the capital, and found asylum of sorts in makeshift refugee camps...

"April, 2003, conditions in the capital began to quickly deteriorate. Forces were converging, threatening total warfare. The organizers weren't sure what to do, so they opened their Bibles and read from Esther, heroine to her own people. The Liberian women were emboldened to do the same and fashioned a modest plan. Why not wear white, symbol of peace, and sit near the fish market, where Taylor often passed in his limousine?

"The sit-in was attended by 2,400 women -- the first time in their history that Christian and Muslim women had publicly acted together. They sang and chanted: "We are tired of suffering, we are tired of rape, we are tired of war. We want peace." Their banner read: "The women of Liberia want peace now."

"It was a gesture that put their lives at risk. They dared contest Liberia's perpetrators of violence. That is, the men. "We knew we were going to get killed," one woman says, "but by taking this action, we thought, at least we will have died for peace..."

It was a great story, and now I HAVE to see this movie!!

Some Thoughts About War

As I've mentioned before in a couple of other blogs, I'm helping facilitate another JustFaith group here at St. Bridget, a huge one of some 21 of us, half from a neighboring parish. The program doesn't try to cover every Catholic social justice topic, but it covers a lot of them over 30 weeks, with books, videos, guest speakers, and field trips (called "Border Crossings," because they take us into unfamiliar territory...).

We are just beginning our section on war/peace/nonviolence. One of the resources that we read from is Cloud of Witnesses -- I did a short review of it on Amazon.com. It's a collection of short biographies of people who lived a commitment to justice -- most of them not well-known to the average person, but all of them quite remarkable. It gives me hope, actually.

The person whose story we have assigned for this coming week is Rev. George Zabelka, a US Army Air Force chaplain during World War II for the 509th Composite Group. In other words, he was the priest for those who dropped the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The link provides an interview he gave to Fr. Charles McCarthy, entitled A Military Chaplain Repents. An excerpt:

Zabelka: Yes, I knew civilians were being destroyed, and knew it perhaps in a way others didn’t. Yet I never preached a single sermon against killing civilians to men who were doing it.

Q: Why not?

Zabelka: Because I was "brainwashed"! It never entered my mind to publicly protest the consequences of these massive air raids. I was told it was necessary; told openly by the military and told implicitly by my Church’s leadership. To the best of my knowledge no American cardinals or bishops were opposing these mass air raids. Silence in such matters, especially by a public body like the American bishops, is a stamp of approval.

The whole structure of the secular, religious, and military society told me clearly that it was all right to "let the Japs have it." God was on the side of my country. The Japanese were the enemy, and I was absolutely certain of my country’s and Church’s teaching about enemies; no erudite theological text was necessary to tell me. The day-in-day-out operation of the state and the Church between 1940 and 1945 spoke more clearly about Christian attitudes towards enemies and war than St. Augustine or St. Thomas Aquinas ever could.

I was certain that this mass destruction was right, certain to the point that the question of its morality never seriously entered my mind. I was "brainwashed" not by force or torture but by my Church’s silence and wholehearted cooperation in thousands of little ways with the country’s war machine. Why, after I finished chaplaincy school at Harvard I had my military chalice officially blessed by the then Bishop Cushing of Boston. How much more clearly could the message be given? Indeed, I was "brainwashed"!

Q: So you feel that because you did not protest the morality of the bombing of other cities with their civilian populations, that somehow you are morally responsible for the dropping of the atomic bomb?

Zabelka: The facts are that seventy-five thousand people were burned to death in one evening of fire bombing over Tokyo. Hundreds of thousands were destroyed in Dresden, Hamburg, and Coventry by aerial bombing. The fact that forty-five thousand human beings were killed by one bomb over Nagasaki was new only to the extent that it was one bomb that did it.

To fail to speak to the utter moral corruption of the mass destruction of civilians was to fail as a Christian and a priest as I see it. Hiroshima and Nagasaki happened in and to a world and a Christian Church that had asked for it – that had prepared the moral consciousness of humanity to do and to justify the unthinkable. I am sure there are Church documents around someplace bemoaning civilian deaths in modern war, and I am sure those in power in the church will drag them out to show that it was giving moral leadership during World War II to its membership.

Well, I was there, and I’ll tell you that the operational moral atmosphere in the Church in relation to mass bombing of enemy civilians was totally indifferent, silent, and corrupt at best – at worst it was religiously supportive of these activities by blessing those who did them.

I say all this not to pass judgment on others, for I do not know their souls then or now. I say all this as one who was part of the so-called Christian leadership of the time. So you see, that is why I am not going to the day of judgment looking for justice in this matter. Mercy is my salvation.

I appreciated at the time our Catholic Church's opposition to the war in Iraq; but it was hardly a huge outcry. I can't see that it made much impression on the average person in the pew. I have to wonder... did the Church, at least in the U.S., "pull its punches" because much of the country was hungry for revenge? Certainly, even under "just war theory," going to war in Iraq couldn't be justified. There's nothing in our teaching that provides a rationale for "pre-emptive war."

And there's been very little said at all by the Church about the war in Afganistan -- at least not that I've noticed, and I try to keep my ear to the ground. I attended a CRS "webcast" a couple of months ago, which concluded that people would suffer more if the US pulled out, which is probably very true. CRS also recommended that any assistance to the people be directed through non-military channels, such as itself and other NGOs, because the military tended to use assistance to support individuals and groups for its own advantage rather than to really respond to the needs of the country as a whole. Maybe there's not much else to say... but I somehow feel that Jesus would have said more.

Suffering Transfigured

I do love the 2nd Sunday of Lent, whose gospel is always that of the Transfiguration. There is also a feast of the Transfiguration that fittingly takes place on August 6th, the anniversary day of the bombing of Hiroshima. I can't say I've heard very many homilies linking the two, but I'd be happy to give one.

I have to honestly say that I don't really feel as though I've suffered very much in my lifetime. I'm deaf in one ear, but that's mostly a nuisance, that I've learned to live with. I've been reasonably healthy. My parents have both died, sadly, but that's pretty much to be expected of a guy who is 62 years old. I am, though, regularly close to suffering, both with parishioners and their families, and with the families at Seattle Children's Hospital. It is from these faith-filled people that I've gotten the inspiration to write this homily.

The story I tell right at the beginning of this homily is absolutely true. My face was beet red for about 5 minutes afterwards!

2nd Sunday of Lent, February 28, 2010

Good morning. Once again, it’s a pleasure to be with all of you this morning, and share a little about our scriptures.

You know, I’ve been in ministry now for almost 41 years, and that’s long enough to make a LOT of mistakes. Today’s first reading provided the occasion for one of them, though I’m not sure you remember it. It was on the second Sunday of Lent, I think 15 years ago. And the translation for that Genesis reading, our first reading today, instead of the words “smoking fire pot,” used to use the words “smoking brazier.” That’s b-r-a-z-i-e-r. A brazier is like a weber, with coals in it that you can use to cook meat. Hence, smoking brazier. Well, unfortunately, I pronounced the word wrong the first time I gave the homily, and everybody in the church was wondering what Abram was doing with a smoking brassiere!

We just sang Psalm 27 together, “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” Today in our scriptures we hear about how God calls certain people to a role in the greatest drama of all, a drama we might call "Salvation History." But don’t be confused by the word “history,” because that drama includes today, and includes you and me. The Book of Genesis that we read from today describes how God chose Abram - better known now as Abraham, brought him out of a place called Ur (in modern Iraq) and guided him to a new land. There God told Abraham that his descendants would be numerous - like the stars in the night sky. After Abraham offered a sacrifice, a deep, terrifying darkness overwhelmed him. In that dark night God spoke to his heart, telling him what lay in his future, that Abraham and his descendants would play a central role in this “Salvation History.”

Today’s Gospel speaks about one descendant in particular, the one identified by that voice from the cloud, saying "This is my chosen Son; listen to him." Peter, John and James heard those words and it terrified them. It is not hard to understand why they were frightened. Moses and Elijah had already appeared and had spoken about the role Jesus would carry out. Let me quote the exact words: they "spoke of his exodus which he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem." That’s a strange word usage, so let’s look at it.

Now, you remember that the Exodus was a great event, possibly the greatest event of the Old Testament - when God led the children of Abraham out of the slavery of Egypt and into the Promised Land. Jesus would accomplish a new Exodus: leading us out from the slavery of sin into the new life of Resurrection. But this exodus would involve something terrifying: the cross. We are so accustomed to seeing the cross that we can forget its horrible reality. It was one of the cruelest forms of torture ever devised. But it is by this cross that Jesus would unite in his person all the suffering of humanity.

Jesus underwent this Exodus so he could awaken us to a different life. And, this is where our part in Salvation History comes in. You and I might not have a role like Jesus or Abraham, but we DO have a part in this great drama of salvation. For God HAS spoken similar words over us: “You are my beloved son. You are my much loved daughter.” When did that happen? It took place at the moment of our baptism. As St. Paul says, when those waters flow over us, we die with Christ and will rise with him to a new life.

New Life! Before the stars began to form, God thought about you and me. God made us who we are, and made a role for us in this great salvation drama. Yet unlike the stars, we are free beings: we can accept our part or turn it down. If you read closely the Book of Exodus, you will notice that the children of Abraham did not readily embrace the uncertainties of their new existence, as they traveled in the desert. They remembered their days in Egypt, especially the tasty foods they enjoyed, and they fantasized about their old life. Just so, you and I can prefer our slaveries instead of the high adventure Jesus offers us. We can turn back.

That actually happened with some of the early Christians. St. Paul states in our second reading today that some became enemies of the cross of Christ: “This [the cross] can’t be the sign of who we are!” Even the apostles first felt that way. Did you hear the first couple of words I began our gospel with today? “Eight days after he said this, Jesus took Peter, John and James and went up the mountain to pray.” Our missalette cuts off those first few words, but I put them back in so you might hear that there is a context to our gospel. Eight days before this gospel takes place, Jesus had told his disciples for the first time that his destiny was to suffer greatly and be put to death. “If anyone wishes to come after me … you must deny yourself, and take up your cross daily and follow me. If you wish to save your life you will lose it, but if you offer up your life – if you give up your life for my sake – then you will save it.” But of course, when Jesus said this to his apostles, they just didn’t understand how those words made any sense at all … so Jesus went for today’s hike up the mountain, and he gave them a vision of glory.

We might not understand what Jesus means by the cross either, might not want to embrace it. We can turn back. I doubt that any of us will get a better offer (!!) … but it is not an easy role, to be a disciple of Jesus, and if it feels fine and comfortable for you to be a Christian, maybe you’re asleep and don’t know it. As Paul says today, “our citizenship is in heaven” -- it is our calling, and our fullest destiny; but to reach that goal involves some risk, some sacrifice, maybe some suffering.

But then, we ALL face suffering and death, anyway. Perhaps not at this very moment, but we all will. Like Jesus, we might risk suffering and death as a result of a conscious choice we make, or a calling that we will not deny. I’m reminded of our saints and martyrs. And I’m reminded of all the police officers who have been wounded or killed in Washington state in recent time, as our public servants. A great love can bring us into situations of great suffering. Lives like these remind us that we really are glorified luminous beings, who have the capacity to risk suffering and death, for love.

And of course, each of us will also face sufferings that we do NOT choose. It may be the death of someone we love -- or an accident – or some life-threatening illness – or the relentless growing infirmities of advancing age. We don’t choose these. There is no family down at Children’s Hospital that chooses the illness that brings them there. But what they CAN choose … what WE can choose, is how we will live with our sufferings. Even in our sufferings, we are still luminous beings ... maybe especially in our sufferings.

The reason Jesus chose to go to Jerusalem and take up his cross, was in order that we would know beyond any shadow of a doubt that in the end, suffering and even death itself cannot conquer us. Our destiny as children of the light goes beyond the grave – we are a part of God’s glory, now and always. And that vision can give us the grace to live a full life in service to others, in spite of the risks or costs to ourselves -- and it can give us the strength to bear our hurts and our infirmities with trust in God, and with love to those around us.

Deacon Denny Duffell, St. Bridget Parish