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by
Marco Bardazzi
It had been a hard day, a very hard day for Fr Rich. It is
not easy being a Catholic priest in the America of 2002, in
the midst of the media offensive which has introduced the
suspicion that every man wearing a Roman collar may be a
sexual predator. The sensation, to those wearing the
priestly habit, is like that of the plague-spreaders in
Manzoni’s The Betrothed, with fingers pointed at them as
the bearers of a plague that is mowing down victims among
children and adolescents.
And yet, something positive is making its way and emerging
in the stories of priests who, in the midst of the troubles
of one of the most difficult moments in the history of
Catholicism in the United States, continue
to look to a Presence made tangible by a companionship.
On that day in late April, Fr Rich Veras had participated
with dozens of other New York priests, at the invitation of
Cardinal Edward Egan, Archbishop of New York, in a meeting
to bring the pastors of the diocese up to date on the
situation of the sexual abuse crisis. This was inevitably a
sad event, devoted to examining new courses of action being
evaluated by the authorities of the American Church in order
to deal with the situation.
With his mind and heart weighed down by that meeting, Fr
Rich and Dino (a high school teacher) went that same evening
to another meeting of those responsible for ecclesiastical
activities in Staten Island–the slice of the Big Apple
where they live–without expecting very much from that
gathering. They had been invited to explain why their parish,
from the moment when the barely known student youth group
that calls itself “GS” had appeared on the scene, was
different from the others. The mother of one boy had told
others about something that aroused the curiosity of the
committee of representatives of the various parishes that
assists the Archbishop’s Vicar in Staten Island: “I do
not know anything about pastoral work with young people, but
what is happening between Fr Rich and Dino and some of the
high school kids is surprising.” With all the fears
connected with the alarm about sexual abuse, which by now is
poisoning all the relationships between priests and
teenagers in America, it is likely that some of the members
of the pastoral committee may have come that evening
burdened by concern. But it was enough to see those two as
they spoke to dispel all fears.
The
response to the scandal
Fr Rich and Dino were supposed to talk no more than half an
hour, but after more than an hour spent describing the
history of CL and their experience, they were deluged with
questions and enthusiasm. At the end, Msgr Dorney, Vicar for
Staten Island, took the floor, visibly moved. “Fr Rich and
I,” he said, “today lived a day in which all the weight
of the problem of the ‘scandal’ seemed almost impossible
to bear. But this evening, after listening to you,
everything takes on meaning again, and I feel full of life
and full of hope. We always talk about doing, doing, doing,
but these two men have chosen simply to be. Their hearts are
on fire and, looking at them, I catch fire myself. I wish
every parish had priests like this, true disciples of Christ.”
Thinking about that evening afterwards, Fr Rich is still
amazed at how the Mystery succeeds in showing a positivity
in reality, resembling a patch of blue sky breaking through
in the middle of a storm. “Giorgio Vittadini told us that
the Resurrection, the presence of Christ, is the answer to
the priest scandal,” he explained, “and that event has
illustrated this point in a way that could not be any
clearer. When I started describing my experience, everything
changed. The amazement on their faces reminded me of the
grace granted to me to live in the midst of miracles, of the
miracle of Christ present.”
Talk
shows and newspapers
Fr
Rich’s experience is not isolated. The ecclesiastical
environment in America seems, on the priestly level, often
disoriented by the media offensive about the sexual abuse
scandal, and anyone who brings reason and hope–the fruits
of an education to the faith unknown to most people in the
United States–immediately becomes the object of authentic
interest. This is true also within the ranks of the same
media that, tired of the lack of results in the war on
terrorism and waiting for new attacks on America, have made
the crisis in the Church a topic for talk shows and magazine
covers.
Msgr Lorenzo Albacete is familiar with this, since he
published in the New York Times Magazine an impassioned
defense of celibacy, inserted into an account–devoid of
hypocrisy–of his own personal “struggle” with this
aspect of priestly life. After demolishing and sweeping away
the simplistic theories which claim that the entire problem
of sexual abuse of minors can be traced to celibacy (ie, if
priests had their own sex life, they wouldn’t go about
molesting children), Msgr Albacete outlined its real meaning.
“Celibacy has more to do with poverty than with
sex. It is the radical, outward expression of the poverty of
the human heart, the poverty that makes true love possible
by preventing it from corrupting into possession or
manipulation. That is why child abuse by priests is so
shocking, so horrible, so destructive. It places celibacy at
the service of power and lust, not of love.”
Recognizing
Christ
In the depressing panorama of the aridity and vacuity of the
various comments made on the scandal, this was an article
that made history in some ways, read by millions of people.
This became clear from the number of invitations that first
CNN and then other TV stations extended to Albacete to
participate in their talk shows. But it was evident also
from the letters to the editor of the Magazine published in
subsequent issues. “It was great to read something
positive,” wrote Karen Ard from New York, “after
everything the press has written lately. I am not Catholic,
but if I knew there was a priest of your caliber in a parish
near me, I might even go to church.” Steven Yap, from
Chicago, sympathized with Albacete: “It is very sad that
many fine priests today feel like they have been accused of
a crime and have to prove their innocence.” Fr Damian
Richards, a priest in Atwood, Kansas, was surprised to find
himself “nodding his head yes” as he read each line of
the article.
A few days later, Msgr Albacete happened to hold a retreat
for Hispanic priests in New York, and the topic, once again,
could not help being the scandal in which they are all
immersed. “I said to them,” he recounts, “that these
things go beyond my understanding of what is a sin, and I
decided to break it off. I pulled out Fr Giussani’s Recognizing
Christ and proposed it as our working text. All kinds of
explanations are being given for what is happening in the
Church: homosexuality, women, celibacy, and so on. But the
real problem is the absence of Christ. This
is why we must go back to ‘recognizing Him.’”
From that retreat, a new School of Community was born in New
York; thirteen Hispanic priests take part, led by Albacete.
School
of Community
School of Community, now more
than ever, seems to be crucial for those who wear the
priestly habit. This was well put, in surprising words, by
Fr Antonio Sansone, a relatively new friend of CL. His
church in Brooklyn has become a meeting place for a School
of Community and an adult Fraternity group. Fr Sansone has
been the parish priest a little over a year, after earlier
working alongside another priest who has a long-standing
friendship with the Movement, Msgr Ronald Marino. In his new
parish, he immediately opened the doors to CL and began
participating in School of Community. He also spoke about it
to the faithful several times in the parish bulletin. In one
of the most recent bulletins, he enclosed copies of John
Paul II’s letter for the anniversary of the recognition of
the Fraternity, explaining that he wanted the people of the
neighborhood to find out what the Movement that has appeared
in their church is, directly from the Pope’s words. And in
one of the most recent School of Community meetings, talking
about the terrible moment that the American Church is now
living, Fr Sansone surprised and moved everyone with his
words: “I realize that I am afraid to get close to the
children in school because of what is happening. The
friendship with you is the central point of my life right
now. If it weren’t for you, today it would be hard for me
to be a priest.”
Only an experience that does not censor even the ugliest
aspects of reality succeeds in overcoming the prevailing
climate, which in this period is intimidating a large number
of American priests. Fr Rich questioned himself at length
about how to approach the topic of sexual abuse with the GS
kids in Staten Island. “I went more than once to School of
Community thinking about how I could bring up the subject,”
he said, “but every week, the work on At the Origin of
the Christian Claim and the experiences that came out of
it were so rich, the kids were so involved and struck by the
way we were discovering Christ’s presence in concrete ways
in our lives, that it seemed to me in some ways out of place
to bring up the problem of the scandal. It appeared to me
like having to insert something unreal, theoretical, and
abstract into a discussion about reality.”
Without
screens
Then, one day, the talk centered around At the Origin of the
Christian Claim touched on Jesus, who did not put up any
“screens”–political, social, or cultural–between
Himself and His complete embrace of the human. Fr Rich
offered his kids the example of a New York high school run
by religious who decided, in the wake of the scandal, not to
do any more one-on-one tutoring with individual kids, for
fear of possible accusations. This decision disconcerted
some of the parents, including one of Fr Rich’s
parishioners, who told him how important one of the
priests’ private lessons was for her son. “I told the
kids it was sad to see that, as a result of the scandal, a
social barrier had been raised between the priest and that
boy.”
At that point, the topic of sexual abuse was on the table.
One of the girls in the group, Tiffany, immediately voiced
her concern: “Fr Rich, you have to be careful! A teacher
in my school was unjustly accused of something like this a
few years ago, and his career was seriously damaged.” Fr
Rich remembers this as a beautiful moment, one of those that
drive away all fears and suddenly make clear what seemed
difficult and mixed-up. “I cannot allow,” he said to his
kids, “these scandals to set up a screen between me and
all of you. If being careful means that I have to stop
spending time with you, then I cannot be careful. If being
with you means putting myself in danger, then I
will put myself in danger, because what matters is
discovering and recognizing Christ.” |