Pop Quiz, Boys and Girls

Pop quiz, boys and girls. Get out your No. 2 pencils and get to work!

1.     The statement below is _______ true / ________false

The Vatican said Friday that Monsignor Jozef Wesolowski was found guilty by the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith in recent days, and sentenced to the harshest penalty possible against a cleric: laicization, meaning he can no longer perform priestly duties or present himself as a priest.

If you answered “true,” you got a zero on the quiz, but guess what? You’re also not alone. Here’s a sweet little description of “the harshest penalty possible against a cleric:”

Poor prisoners are called "ranas" or frogs. They sleep on the floor with mice and vermin around them. They have no private rooms or baths and they must use latrine-type holes in the jail patio and openly evacuate. These prisoners all shower together and fight for the last drop of water, while the goleta owners enjoy private baths. Every morning at about 9am there is a "conteo" or prisoner count where they are asked to walk out of the cells into the hallway to be counted.

Wesolowski was the papal nuncio to the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, and had the habit of strolling, beer in hand, the malecón and contracting the local boys to do you-know-what. And he was so open about it that the local news picked up on the story. Before he could be investigated and /or arrested, however, the archbishop of Santo Domingo went off to tell the pope that they had a little problem. The pope did what they always do: refused to turn the pedophile over to the civil authorities. Instead, for the last ten months, Wesolowski has been sitting in the Vatican, where he enjoys—or enjoyed diplomatic immunity.

So Wesolowski has two months to appeal the decision, and then faces a criminal trial in the Vatican. If convicted, he’ll be jailed there, presumably under conditions a bit more humane than the ones in Dominican Republic.

Isn’t it time to say it? The “state” of Vatican City is a joke—it not only is the smallest nation in the world, it also is just 108.7 acres, making it smaller than the average American farm. And I had assumed that the nationhood that everybody accords it was an ancient thing, from the times with the Vatican had real states. Wrong again—it dates from 1929.

OK, you say, so it’s bogus, but who cares? What difference does it make?

Well, for one thing, the Vatican denied the Dominican Republic’s extradition request, on the grounds that Wesolowski was a “citizen of Vatican City,” which has a policy of not extracting people.

There’s more. Allegations have been floating around the Internet that a common dodge for bishops is to give the files on abusive priests to the papal nuncio, since in several dioceses, victims of abuse have successfully sued to have the files made public.

And so Wesolowski may still have diplomatic immunity. What no one is saying is that he allegedly committed crimes, yes, in the Dominican Republic, but also here, in Arecibo, Puerto Rico. And since the FBI, reportedly, is looking into the situation of priestly abuse, are they also looking at Wesolowski? Because Wesolowski made frequent trips to Puerto Rico, and stayed in the parish of a now defrocked priest, José Colón Otero. More, the parishioners were doing everything short of standing outside the church with cardboard placards, so desperate were they—the parishioners, not the placards—to get some church official to do something. They wrote to the bishop, then Wesolowski, and finally the Vatican. And what did Wesolowski do? Nothing.

There is something fishy going on in Arecibo. Consider the fact that the current bishop, Daniel Fernández Torres, is being investigated by the FBI for abuse. Oh, and he came out and said the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith had cleared him of the whole thing. But the lawyer representing the victim? She came out and said the Vatican never talked to her client.

Guys? It’s hard to know which is greater: the arrogance or the shamelessness.

Open Letter to Roberto González Nieves

(Note: this post was written several weeks ago. The most recent news is that Archbishop González Nieves is cooperating with the federal and local authorities. However, the diocese of Arecibo—which has been accused of being the “dumping ground” for abusive priests—is still fighting in court the subpoenas that have been issued against it….)
 

When are they going to get it?

What happens if I go out, take a shine to a 13-year old kid on the playground, offer him candy and the coolest tennis shoes (which his mother won’t buy him because she can’t) and then take him home and rape him? Well, the cops do an investigation, there’s a trial, and if convicted, I go to jail.

OK—what happened when a Catholic priest sexually abused a minor? Here’s what the archbishop of San Juan had to say:

“En una investigación preliminar el sacerdote admitió el abuso al entonces menor. Fue suspendido, quedando relevado de sus funciones ministeriales el 7 de septiembre de 2010. El día 30 de diciembre de 2011 el Tribunal Metropolitano culminó la investigación preliminar y el 4 de enero de 2012, el Tribunal Metropolitano remitió el expediente de este asunto a la Congregación para la Doctrina de la Fe, dando cumplimiento al trámite requerido por el orden jurídico canónico”, aceptó González Nieves.

(“In a preliminary investigation, the priest admitted to the abuse of the (then) minor. He was suspended, being relieved of his ministerial duties on the 7^th of September of 2010. On the 30^th of December of 2011, the Metropolitan Tribunal (a church court) culminated its preliminary investigation and on the 4^th of 2012, the Metropolitan Tribunal submitted the file on this matter to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, complying with the process of canonic law,” accepted González Nieves.)

Full disclosure: this quote comes from a blog called Cristianos Bíblicos, which attributes it and the whole post to an article in El Nuevo Día. A cursory search in El Nuevo Día’s website revealed no results for the title of the article, Dinero a cambio de silencio; víctima de violencia sexual en la iglesia católica en Puerto Rico.

Another disclaimer: from my reading of the paragraph, it’s not entirely clear whether the victim was a minor at the time she or he made the complaint, though it’s clear that the victim was a minor at the time of the abuse. And that’s important because, as Telemundo assures us,

De igual forma, González Nieves confirmó que la Iglesia no refiere a las Autoridades los casos de sacerdotes pedófilos si las víctimas ya son mayor de edad.   

(“As well, González Nieves confirmed that the church doesn’t refer to the authorities those cases of pedophile priests if the victims are currently of age.”)

OK—so let’s assume that the quote is indeed by González Nieves, the article did appear in El Nuevo Día, and that the victim was of age at the time of making the complaint. So what? The archdiocese has a sexual predator on its hands—one who has confessed to the crime, by the way, and for which it has taken the church over a year to “investigate”—and they don’t go to the cops? And weaseling out by saying that the victim is now of age is—however legal—questionable morally. If the priest abused some kid once, will he do it again? Very likely.

Oh, and remember this quote from my February 13, 2014 post (extracted from childwelfare.gov)?

Puerto Rico

P.R. Laws Ann. Tit. 8, § 446(b) (LexisNexis through Dec. 2009)     

Any person who has knowledge of or suspects that a minor is a victim of abuse, institutional abuse, neglect, and/or institutional neglect shall report that fact through the hotline of the department, to the Puerto Rico police, or to the local office of the department.

True—it says “a minor.” But look, González—where’s your law degree? How do you know whether the statute of limitations has run out? Shouldn’t you let the District Attorney figure that out?

You know, González, we’re talking about a crime here. We’re talking about a trial, prison time, “rehabilitation.” And what have you done? You’ve completely usurped the civil authorities, taken off your sanctimonious robes, and turned yourself into the cops, the judge and the jury. And so you let a criminal go scot free—since the “priest” is no longer on the island and no longer a priest. I’m not a lawyer, either, González, but you know what I’d call it? Right—obstruction of justice.

Of course, there’s something else I’d call it: aiding and abetting a criminal. And by the way, did you have the perpetrator under 24 / 7 surveillance all that time? And I don’t care whether the victim was currently of age, because, guess what? Relieved or not of his priestly duties, he could well have been screwing little kids all during your yearlong investigation. He probably had more time to do it, in fact.

You know, I’m so frigging tired of the overwhelming, overweening, arrogance of the Catholic Church. I watched a guy, Colm O’Gorman, on YouTube yesterday describe his abuse at the hands of an Irish priest; I heard the story of how the priest made the fourteen-year old kid feel that it was his fault. I heard the story of how the kid left home before he was 18, and landed on the streets of Dublin: it was better than the abuse at home. And he pulled himself together, went on to make a good career, have a life. No thanks to your church, González.

So some guy on your payroll rapes a kid and you take off his collar and buy him a one-way ticket to somewhere. News flash, González:

The guy—very likely—is still raping kids out there.

Sleeping well these days, González?

Did an Employee of the Vatican Commit Crimes on US Territory?

Well, let’s start with two caveats. First, it may be that reality—subjected to the blazing light and sopping humidity of the tropics—gets a little warped. In fact, I once hesitantly breathed this theory to Harry, a native of Old San Juan.

“Of course,” he cried, and told me the following story:

A gringo comes to oversee a factory in a small mountain town. The factory is running well, but the workers tend to call in sick a day or two every week. What was wrong? Clearly, the workers were unhappy: the gringo sought to increase morale by giving them higher pay. The result? The workers now called in sick three times a week!

“They weren’t interested in money,” said Harry, “they just wanted enough for their rice and beans and a caneca (flask) of rum. So when they got paid more, they didn’t have to work as much. See?”

It makes total sense, really—it’s just a different way of thinking. And so after living here for over twenty years, and after having written well-past-exhaustively on the topic of priestly abuse, who’s to say that my own sense of reality isn’t a bit warped? 

Second caveat: being a blogger tends to lead to a sort of conspiracy mindset. You read a lot about something, and then go on to the next thing, and then—weeks or months later—the first thing crops up again. You’ve now forgotten most of what you read, which makes it easy to believe that Machiavellian forces are at work.

So now—at long last—let me tell you what I remember.

A lawyer in Minneapolis, Jeff Anderson, has been an early and rigorous fighter for justice for the victims of clerical abuse. And he has had to fight long and hard to get a few dioceses to reveal their internal records. Chicago, for example, released in January of this year a collection of over 6000 documents that exposed what was happening internally in the diocese.

That’s great, but it’s only half the story. Yes, if within the diocese’s records there are Vatican letters, you can get a glimpse of what is going on in the Vatican. But it frequently is the blandest, most opaque glimpse. So the logical thing to do would be to go to court and ask for the court to tell the Vatican to hand over its records. Especially logical since the diocese is required to report all cases of clerical abuse to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) which used to be the Holy Office, and which—more colorfully and forcefully—started out as the Inquisition.

Thus, local bishops were writing off to Ratzinger and the CDF, and guess what? God’s time is infinitely, majestically, gloriously… slow. So the bishops waited and waited, often for years at a time. In the meantime, the bishops were stuck with seriously sick priests; you can—almost—understand why they were shuffling them around to new victims in different parishes. What else could they do?

So what happened when lawyers went to court to ask the court to force the Vatican to reveal its records? Ah, cried the Vatican, but those bishops aren’t our employees! They are paid by the diocese, not the Vatican!

For this, the word jesuitry was made.

Hard shift to the southeast, specifically Arecibo, Puerto Rico. Puerto Rico—once defined by the US Supreme Court as not being the United States but pertaining to the United States (anybody up there get that? Drop me a line, if you do…)—falls within US jurisdiction.

And things have been a little strange in Arecibo. For one thing, six priests have been expelled in three years, and our local newspaper, El Nuevo Día, reports that there have been 20 cases of priestly abuse, as well as a federal lawsuit brought by one of the victims. Here’s what The New Day has to say in today’s electronic edition:

Fuentes de El Nuevo Día indicaron que agentes de ICE-HSI se acercaron al secretario interino de Justicia, César Miranda, y al fiscal general José Capó para colaborar e intercambiar información con la investigación que comenzó el gobierno estatal la semana pasada y así ellos también poder abarcar ángulos de jurisdicción federal.

“Hay mucho interés en indagar sobre los detalles de abuso sexual de menores por parte de sacerdotes y todo lo que ha salido publicado provoca que haya que actuar de inmediato”, dijo una fuente federal.

(“Sources for El Nuevo Día indicated that agents of IE-HIS approached the interim Secretary of Justice, César Miranda, and the Attorney General José Capó to collaborate and exchange information with the investigation which the state government began last week and thus to be able to also cover any angles that are of federal jurisdiction.

‘There’s a lot of interest in investigating the details of sexual abuse of minors on the part of priests, and everything that has come out publically makes it necessary to act immediately,’ said a federal source.”)

Now then, here the waters turn murky, as the runoff of politics surges into the pond.

The highest Catholic official on the island, Archbishop of San Juan Roberto González Nieves, is a strong proponent of independence and rubbed it a little too hard into people’s noses. So the statehooders had him investigated for four things, one of which was covering up abusive priests. And thus, in an investigation that lasted years, the papal nuncio—the Pope’s own ambassador and yes, a Vatican official—came to Puerto Rico, and were did he stay? Not in San Juan, but in…

…Arecibo.

The papal nuncio for the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico was Jozef Wesolowski, and where is he now? Apparently in the Vatican, where he fled—or was recalled—just before investigative news series was about to show him walking the malecón of Santo Domingo in search of something other than lovely seascapes.

Authorities in the Dominican Republic have in some accounts asked for extradition: the Vatican has no extradition policy and Wesolowski, as a diplomat, enjoys immunity. But there are reports that Wesolowski didn’t behave much better in Puerto Rico than he did in Santo Domingo. Here’s what the Dominican press said about Wesolowski in Puerto Rico:

Según los testimonios difundidos por Burgos, en su programa Código Calle, del canal 29 de Santiago, Wesolowski es acusado en Puerto Rico de encubrir a los sacerdotes pederastas.

Los fieles católicos se quejaron ante el obispo puertorriqueño monseñor Iñaqui y ante el propio Wesolowski, pero no recibieron el apoyo que esperaban.

Un seminario fue cerrado, pero todo se mantiene en silencio, y el obispo Iñaqui [Sic.] fue promovido, en lugar de ser sancionado.

(“According to witnesses’ statements broadcast by Burgos in his program Código Calle on channel 29 in Santiago, Wesolowski is accused in Puerto Rico of covering up pederast priests.

Faithful Catholics protested to Puerto Rican bishop Iñaki (former bishop of Arecibo) and in front of Wesolowski himself, but never received the support they expected.

A seminary was closed, but everything was kept silent, and the bishop Iñaqi was promoted, instead of sanctioned.”)

Remember what I said about reality being different in the sun-drench vibrant air of the tropics? We seem to have Wesolowski—a man now accused of pederasty—investigating the archbishop of San Juan for covering up…pederasty. Who’s guilty of what? I sure don’t know.

And am I wrong in thinking that…

…a Vatican official may have committed crimes in the United States? This case is unique, the case we’ve been waiting for. At long last, a US court has the right to petition the Vatican to release its records, its internal documents, its policies and directives to bishops. At last, we can throw open the doors of the Vatican and take a look inside.

Am I the only one who sees that?

The Clerics and the Choir Boys

Where’s Wesolowski?

The best answer is that Jozef Wesolowski, the former papal nuncio to the Dominican Republic, is somewhere in the Vatican, after he was recalled in August before reports of his alleged pedophile crimes were made public.

Right, you are saying. Another pedophile priest—ho-hum! Get on with it, Marc—find something new!

Well, here’s what’s new. First of all, the papal nuncio is an ambassador—he is the pope’s personal ambassador to—in this case—the government of the Dominican Republic. So? He’s got diplomatic immunity.

Second, Wesolowski is the highest Vatican official to be charged with sex abuse crimes, and more importantly, he’s a Vatican employee. Why is that important? Because for years, the Vatican has held that individual priests and bishops are not Vatican employees. Therefore, American courts cannot haul the Vatican into court, or force the Vatican to reveal documents or files.

This, of course, is a little screwy because when a priest is defrocked, or asks to leave the priesthood, or is accused of sexual abuse of minors—what happens? The bishop sits down and writes to the Vatican, and waits for an answer.

Well, the Vatican is on God’s time—and God, it appears, moves slowly, majestically, and without care for the hustle and haste that the rest of us spin out our lives with. So that means the bishop is down checking the mailbox every morning for years on end, and the pederast priest is still in business. No wonder the bishops were shuffling the pederast priests around—what else could they do?

Ah, but wait! Because in July of this year, Pope Francis…well, here’s a quote from The Huffington Post:

Francis in July also signed off on legislation criminalizing child sex abuse and other sexual crimes, with punishments ranging up to more than a decade in prison – laws that apply to Vatican employees as well as diplomatic staff. Those new laws, however, can't be applied retroactively in this case, officials say.    

The same article goes on to say:

The Vatican's own rules for conducting sex abuse investigations under church law calls for cooperation with civil authorities and reporting of abuse allegations to police where such laws require it. Those norms were crafted in the wake of the explosion of sex abuse cases in 2010, where thousands of people came forward in Europe, South America and elsewhere detailing abuse by priests who were never reported to police even though their bishops knew they were pedophiles.

Attorney General Francisco Domínguez Brito has said if the government finds any concrete evidence against Wesolowski, it would seek his extradition. He noted, however, that the Dominican Republic has no extradition agreement with the Vatican.

Hey, wait—the Pope was told in July of this year about Wesolowski, but did anyone run over to the police headquarters to fill them in? They had, after all, a couple of months—easily—to do so, before the Vatican withdrew its ambassador.

The article was written on September 12 of this year. Five days ago, Brito announced that the case against Wesolowski is nearly complete—he was putting the finishing touches on it. The article then goes on to quote a cardinal in the Dominican Republic:

En ese sentido, el cardenal Nicolás de Jesús López Rodríguez reiteró que esa situación le “avergüenza” y manifestó que destituido embajador del Vaticano será juzgado en la Santa Sede por un tribunal especial que conoce esos casos.

“El nuncio tiene que ser juzgado en el tribunal del Vaticano. Allá hay muchos tribunales, pero el que conoce el caso es Doctrina de la Fe”, puntualizó.

Agregó que Wesolowsky no puede ser extraditado por su condición diplomática y conforme a lo establecido en el tratado de Viena, del que la República Dominicana es signataria.

“Los diplomáticos tienen que ser juzgados en los países que representan, según la convención de Viena”, resaltó López Rodríguez.

What’s the cardinal saying? “The nuncio has to be tried by a Vatican court. There are many courts there, but the one which has knowledge of this case is the Doctrine of the Faith.

“He added that Wesolowski cannot be extradited do to his position as diplomat as established by the Treaty of Vienna.”

Right—that’s not Brito speaking, but a cardinal, though one could ask how he got into the picture. So it’s unclear—what’s Brito thinking?

Several other questions come to mind. According to one report:

REDACCIÓN CENTRAL.- El ex nuncio Josef Wesolowski obstaculizó investigaciones de pederastia en Puerto Rico contra más de una decena de sacerdotes de la diócesis de Arecibo.

I won’t translate except to say:

obstaculizó—hindered

decena—dozen

sacerdote—priest

Hmmm—just a second. Wesolowski was on American soil, hindering investigations of sexual abuse by priests. Hey, guess what! Wesolowski may have the privilege of being the first Vatican official on a witness stand in an American court. 

Next on the list—Wesolowski was not the only Polish guy running around in the Dominican Republic. There was also a priest… but let El Nuevo Día tell the story:

Precisamente, el jueves, las autoridades dominicanas le solicitaron  a la Interpol que ayude con la captura de otro sacerdote de origen polaco, Wojciech Gil, quien presuntamente también cometió actos sexuales contra menores en el vecino país.

And why do the Dominican authorities need the help of Interpol to find Wojciech Gil? Because at about the same time that the Vatican recalled Wesolowski, Gil got it into his head to return home to his beloved Poland.

So we have the perfect storm for the Vatican. It says it cooperates with local authorities—does it? And why is it that they pulled Wesolowski, and didn’t report to the local authorities, as their own policy dictated? Will the Vatican allow for extradition of one Polish priest but not another—an ambassador? Its new laws allow for up to ten years in prison—but will it loophole Weslowski? As it is—the worst thing that could happen to him is to be defrocked.

Two things come to mind. First, whatever the legality of the situation is, the morality is—to this old atheist—pretty clear. A guy was screwing around with kids—he should be punished, and punished by the laws of that country. If the Vatican insists on diplomatic immunity, the whole world will be laughing. Or at least those of us who have no illusions about the Vatican. The faithful will be seething.

Second, get ready, both of you guys, for a taste of the Dominican legal system. As I understand it, it operates on the belief that the defendant is guilty until found innocent. Oh, and guess what? Dominican jails are notorious—filthy, dirt floors, rats, no food or provisions unless provided by family. Puerto Ricans will remember dear Laura Hernández….

But look at the bright side.

Won’t be cold!

The Archbishop Thumbs His Nose

Well, first things first. I want to express my absolute, complete, and total support to Jason Collins, the 34-year old black basketball player—with, by the way, a degree from Stanford—who came out yesterday. I’m sure that Jason is reading this—the blog having an international readership thanks to some wonderful folk in Tobago—and I wouldn’t want him to feel slighted in any way. Excellent work, Jason!

OK—that was snide. I don’t know how to say this without stepping on toes, so here goes: for me, at least, it’s a little painful to see the rich and famous coming out of the closet after all the rest of us made it possible for them to do so. Elton John I respect; he came out at a time when it wasn’t easy. His career may have suffered—what do I know about pop music? He took it on the chin.

So now we have our first openly gay professional basketball player. And everybody is writing about it and tweeting about it and supporting Jason—including Chelsea Clinton and Joe Kennedy, his former classmates at Stanford.

And Jason says he feels great. And he does, I’m sure. There’s something about being in the closet that is completely stifling. First, you’re always hiding. Second, you’re always acting. Third, you’re always looking over your back, wondering who’s going to expose you. Fourth, you’re always wondering—how would this person react if they knew who I really am?

The list goes on and on, and ends up at the last two questions.

The penultimate: would this person like me?

The ultimate: do I like myself?

So Jason did it, and now—yes—I’m sincere: good for him. And maybe I should come clean—it is to me totally ridiculous that it is only in the year 2013 that we get our first openly gay team-sport male athlete, or whatever he is. We’ve had gay everybody else—senators, rock stars, talking heads—for years now. And now we get our first gay male athlete? Where you guys been?

It’s a measure of how far we’ve come but, yeah, how far we need to go.

Actually, let me tell you where we need to go.

On Saturday, I was watching a great production from the Metropolitan Opera of Giulio Cesare, with the countertenor David Daniels, who was in top form. During intermission, Daniels was speaking with Renée Fleming—they discussed his character, the difficulty of the music, a host of musical questions. At the end, Daniels said, “oh, just one thing, Renée—I gotta say hello to my partner John, who’s dying to meet you.”

Both look at the camera.

“John, this is Renée; Reneée, this is John.”

Renée put on a 7000 candlepower smile and waved at John.

“Hi, John!”

Back to the opera.

Right, now then…

…Worried readers of this blog will want to know: how is the Archbishop getting along? You will remember the little tiff that ensued, when the monsignor put up El Altar de la Patria and than proposed reuniting the prócer Ramón Power y Giralt with his old buddy Arizmendi, the first Puerto Rican bishop. (Or some such thing—I’m too lazy to go look it up….) Those favoring statehood took umbrage—stating that all this was just more politicking from a man who is openly pro-independence.

The Vatican weighed in, nixing both the Altar and the joining of the remains. But the plot thickens—it seems that the archbishop sent a letter on the 20^th of February of this year; the letter contains the following jaw-dropping paragraph:

Eminencia, sutilmente se me indicó que yo tenía que renunciar a la Sede Arzobispal de San Juan y que pidiera otro encargo a la Iglesia. Las injusticias y los procesos injustos jamás pueden ser fuentes de derecho para la renuncia de un Obispo. Este servidor quiere hacer constar que jamás renunciaría a la Sede Arzobispal de San Juan cuando no hay razones para ello.

(For full transcript in Spanish, please click here.)

Here’s a somewhat florid translation:

Your Eminency, subtly was it indicated to me that I must resign the See of the Archbishop of San Juan and that I ask another position in the Church. The injustices and processes unjust can never be the founts of reason for the resignation of a bishop. This servant wishes to state that never would he resign the See of the Archbishop of San Juan when there are no reasons for that.

OK—in ecclesiastical terms, those would be fighting words. Clearly, I had to read the six-page letter from which the paragraph above was culled.

The letter starts well enough; the archbishop expresses his horror at the completely false and terrible charges levied against him. Nor does he know whether they are final charges, or merely charges warranting investigation. Oh, and he’s received nothing—despite his request—in writing, nor was he permitted, in the meeting where the charges were lobbed at him, to take notes.

Right—down to the facts. For over a year, González (the archbishop) “has been submitted” to an apostolic visit—that’s a guy sniffing around, trying to find dirt. González has also been told that there may be other “incognito” visits—those are spies. Eager to clean his name, González has sought an audience with Mauro Piacenza, the Prefect of the Congregation of the Clergy. No luck.

González goes elsewhere, to Monsignor Celso Morga Iruzubieta, the secretary of the Congregation named above. “Hey,” says González, “can I finally get around to naming some people in my archbishopric? It’s been over a year now since the apostolic visitor (or whatever he’s called) told me I couldn’t.”

“No problem,” says Iruzubieta, and then González shows him the letter telling him that he couldn’t.

Guess what? Iruzubieta gets into a fluster and leaves the room. Predictably, on return, Iruzubieta tells him—hey, hold off on those appointments and I’ll get back to you.

Aha—so that’s why I’ve been seeing the archbishop hanging around his mailbox these many mornings!

Now then, in the meeting of 15 December 2012, during which those grievous and unfounded canards were shot at the archbishop, he was told to hold this matter in the strictest confidence, and especially not to speak of the matter to any of the four or five Puerto Rican bishops.

This, very sadly, González has found himself morally unable to do.

In fact, he has found himself morally obliged to confide in a number of people; here’s a little list:

1.     Félix Lázaro, Bishop of Ponce

2.     Álvaro Corrada, Bishop of Mayagüez

3.     Cardinal Bernard Law

4.     Cardinal William Joseph Levada

5.     Cardinal Seán O’Malley

6.     Cardinal Óscar Rodríguez Maradiaga

7.     Cardinal Timothy Dolan

8.     Archbishop Gerhard Müller

González spoke to Müller, in fact, because Müller is prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. And it was necessary to speak with him because there are four wrong, unjust, and deeply hurtful accusations being slung at the archbishop. And they are:

1.     Protecting pederast priests

2.     Doing an investigation of Reverend Edward Santana without having jurisdiction to do so

3.     The “shared residences”

4.     The altar de la Patria

We are now on page five of a six-page letter. Just enough time for González to write the paragraph quoted and translated above, to restate his innocence, as well as to express his supreme inner peace that these vicious slanders will not stand up to scrutiny.

Oh, and to express his deepest fraternal love and to send his prayers.

Kiss, goodbye.

Ummm—archbishop, you do know what you’re doing, don’t you? You are courting an invitation to spend some time in Rome; a period of greater contemplation, of deeper communion with God; a period of rest, spiritually and physically. You have said it as well, this ordeal has taken its toll. It’s now time for you eminence to join with your brothers in Rome, where together and fraternally you and they can grow in the correct understanding of the faith, and share in the great and mysterious love of God.

Oh, by the way, I can write the press release….

Notes from a Machination of the Father of Lies

It may be that I’ve lived in Latin culture too long, that our love of conspiracy theory has seeped into my pores, but I think the whole thing was set up.

We have an ex-pope—the Spanish newspaper El País calls him Papa Interruptus—who, according to the paper just mentioned, was virtually isolated in the Vatican. So who was in charge?

The Curia.

Which has always had a sinister reputation—popes come and go, but the Curia stays. So that means that if you are youngish—30 or 40, you don’t get too close to any one pope, a mistake Ratzinger made with John Paul II. The reason is obvious—when the pope dies, where will you be?

And the Curia, I remember reading, has an interesting history. If it’s byzantine—and it is, there are nine congregations, three courts, 12 pontifical councils, three pontifical commissions, five pontifical academies, plus the Labor Office, and let’s not forget those Swiss Guards!—there’s a reason. The Vatican, you remember, had lots of states for centuries; there had to be a body to administer them. Well, the states are gone, but in the nature of organizations everywhere, the Curia, with all its labyrinthine structure, lives on.

And the pope has always been, well, just a pope. They come and go. So suppose a pope gives an order that you, or your superior, deem not in either the church’s or the Curia’s or your congregation’s best interest? What do you do?

You say yes, of course.

And then you begin the twin processes of doing nothing and inventing reasons for doing nothing. Which apparently was what happened with Ratzinger—whatever he wished to do was instantly agreed to and then ignored.

What flourished was secrecy and espionage, and according to El País, the superstar was Tarcisio Bertone, who headed the Secretary of State. Ironically, it’s his office that is meant to coordinate between all the fiefdoms of the Curia. Instead, rather than uniting, he’s been a divisive force.

Ratzinger’s nature, I suspect, is passive—he’s an introvert, a scholar, a pianist—he’s not an aggressive, take-charge kind of guy. His legacy, according again to El País, will be as head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, not his seven-year papacy. Why? Because he needed a more dominant force—that would be John Paul II—above and behind him. He could administer, but not lead.

Things spiraled down, as things tend to do. Scandal after scandal hit, and Ratzinger retreated more and more. At last, his butler could take it no more and began leaking to the press. The world was reading the dirty secrets, and finally Ratzinger had to tear himself away from the piano and act.

He planned it well. He commissioned the report—the famous secret report that he will hand over to his successor—detailing the problems in the Curia. He knew the only way to cure the Curia—sorry, couldn’t help it—was to resign. By doing so, he would force the entire “cabinet” to resign.

He doesn’t—and no one but me finds this strange—hike back to his native land, to play piano four-hands with his brother. Instead, he is staying in the Vatican with his valet / personal secretary, a man improbably more handsome than George Clooney. Is it the emotional attachment to the secretary, who will spend evenings and nights with the Ratzinger, and then cross the street to work for Francis?

Or is it that Ratzinger can’t leave—he has to stay and clean up his church? Alternatively, he has to stay and protect his back.

I started this post by saying it was a set up—the election after only two days of a pope whom nobody thought, this time around, was in the running. I think word got down—we gotta get somebody new, somebody from the outside, somebody who doesn’t have a checkered past. And that man is the new Pope Francis.

“The word got down” implies that Ratzinger said it. It might be, however, that the word got around, meaning that someone under Ratzinger has been speaking.

And what are we left with? A relatively old, theologically conservative man who knows little about the Curia. Also a man who seems able to be in front of people without radiating chills of disapproval, as Ratzinger did (and paradoxically, even more so when he smiled).

And we’re left as well with a mystery. Did the cardinals act to reform the Curia or to re-entrench the Curia?

Speaking as a gay man, I think Ratzinger was a wonderful pope to have. If you wanted an enemy, wouldn’t you want a weak, non-charismatic, isolated pope? John Paul II, in contrast, was a real threat, but Ratzinger?

Whatever Pope Francis might do about cleaning up the Curia and the Vatican Bank, re-filling the pews, reaching out to other religions, and dealing with abusive priests, there’s one thing you can be sure he won’t do.

And that is?

Budge on theological issues. Here’s Wikipedia on his views of homosexuality:

Bergoglio has affirmed church teaching on homosexuality, maintaining that homosexual actions are immoral.[59][60]

He opposes same-sex marriage,[61] and unsuccessfully opposed legislation introduced in 2010 to legalize same-sex marriage in Argentina, calling it a "real and dire anthropological throwback".[62] In a letter to the monasteries of Buenos Aires, he wrote:

"Let's not be naïve, we're not talking about a simple political battle; it is a destructive pretension against the plan of God. We are not talking about a mere bill, but rather a machination of the Father of Lies[63] that seeks to confuse and deceive the children of God."[64]

In this context, Bergoglio is also opposed to adoption by same-sex couples, arguing that it threatened the "identity [...] and the survival of the family: father, mother and children". He stated that "children [...] are discriminated against in advance depriving them of human growth that God would be given to a father and a mother".[65][66]

Ouch….

In an hour’s time I will take some food that Raf has cooked to his mother, who will kiss me, call me m’hijo and then rush to warm the food up. Mamina in turn will show up at the Plaza on Saturday to read more names. My name is on the telephone list on her refrigerator door.

Would she characterize my marriage to her son in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 2008 as “a machination of the Father of Lies?”

I’ll ask her, and let you know…. 

Shared Secretarial Services

Two days ago, I wrote a post about the case of Stephen Kiesle, a child molester and priest who was convicted in 1978 of tying up two boys and having sex with them. Kiesle then wanted out of the priesthood, and the bishop of Oakland, California, couldn’t have agreed more. And so a correspondence with Rome began.

Correspondence may not be the word—it was really a written monologue directed at Rome. True, there was an early response asking for more documents, but then… nothing. Oakland wrote several letters over the years, pointing out the conviction, stressing the potential for scandal. Finally, the answer came. Evoking the good of the church, the common good, the need for pastoral care for the priest / molester, Ratzinger said no deal.

Two years later, the priest was finally defrocked. He then went on to molest again, and eventually served prison time. He lives now as a registered sex offender.

I am, as you can see, fascinated by the character of this man, Joseph Ratzinger, whose life story seems to be one of finding himself in events or times saturated with evil, and dealing ambiguously with it.

His biographer points out that he grew up in a heavily Catholic town with virulent anti-Semitism. He is inducted into the Hitler Youth—it was mandatory—and also, later, into the army. He doesn’t fire a shot in the army, nor was he particularly active in the Hitler Youth. Nor does he resist, though the Nazis had seized and murdered his cousin, a 14 year-old child with Down’s syndrome.

Later, he’s teaching at the same university as Hans Küng, the prominent theologian who has at times been a thorn in the Catholic Church’s side. Küng describes Ratzinger as initially liberal, until the student turmoil of the sixties. Students rushed in protest into his classroom; the rigid German, Ratzinger, was appalled by their demands, their conduct, their clothes and grooming.

He steps onto a path that will take him into an increasingly more rigid, repressed, authoritarian, absolute world. Finally, at the end of his life, he confronts evil again, as each week he reads the reports of the sex abuse in his church. And he knows, better than anyone, the magnitude of the problem because he’s given the order: all cases of sexual abuse come to his desk.

Given this fascinating, if rigid, man, I was of course watching via YouTube Ratzinger boarding the helicopter that would take him to Castel Gandolfo. And I was reading the comments as well, one of which was adulatory: you’ve been the best pope ever, thank you, Benedict, for your wonderful service to the church.

I had just written of the Kiesle affair, and had spent the morning reading the letters the diocese had sent and the reply that—after years of silence—Ratzinger had sent. So I posted a comment back, disagreeing, and giving as much of the Kiesle story as I could, in 150 characters or less (I used all but three).

There was—you’re expecting this, right?—the predictable response. I was accused of spreading lies and distortions. That I expected. What lifted the eyebrows was the sentence, “nobody has done more for ridding the Catholic Church of homosexual filth than Benedict.”

True, in a way. Very early on, Ratzinger made it clear to the seminaries—check out those guys. Any seminarian who won’t toe the line, who won’t play by the rules, who comes out and says, “hey, I’m gay—so?” is out. It was back to the fifties—a time of clear, unambiguous repression. 

I could have responded, pointing out that I had spent most of the morning reading the documents of the Kiesle affair, but instead I deleted the comment—from my computer, at least. Mentally, it rankled for a day or two.

Today, I read that the redoubtable Andrew Sullivan has blogged that Ratzinger is gay. No, not that he’s acting on it, but that he is innately gay, and has spent a lifetime repressing it. And he offers several clues that this may be true—Ratzinger’s voice, his scrupulous… but wait, Sullivan does it much better than I. Here he is on the subject.

At times, it seems to me, his gayness is almost wince-inducing. The prissy fastidiousness, the effeminate voice, the fixation on liturgy and ritual, and the over-the-top clothing accessories are one thing. But what resonates with me the most is a theology that seems crafted from solitary introspection into a perfect, abstract unity of belief. It is so perfect it reflects a life of withdrawal from the world of human relationship, rather than an interaction with it.

Sullivan wrote these words in 2010. Today, in 2013, he writes:

The damage Benedict XVI has done to the Catholic church and the papacy may be far from over. All I can say about yesterday’s developments is that they seem potentially disastrous and also indicative to me of something truly weird going on underneath all of this.

Well, it has to be said, there is something strange about a man who, reportedly, has never much liked the Vatican and—equally reportedly—misses his family and native land who then decides to stay in the Vatican. Why? His will be a life of seclusion and prayer; he is withdrawing and giving his absolute obedience to the new pope. Wouldn’t it be prudent to do that many hundred miles away, in a land that speaks his language, where his brother is at hand to chat with, to reminisce, to remember the happy days of a Nazi childhood?

Or is he staying around because of this?

Yes, this hunk, Padre Georg, has been the personal secretary of the previous pope for some time—they met when Ratzinger was head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. And now, it seems that this ex-pope, who is now in seclusion, praying for the welfare of his beloved church, still feels the need to have a secretary. So Padre Georg will spend the evenings and nights with Ratzinger, and then trot over to fulfill his other secretarial duties with the new pope.

See?

And here is Sullivan quoting Padre Georg—wicked tongues call him gay.org—giving us a little peep into the day of a pontiff:

The pope’s day begins with the seven o’clock Mass, then he says prayers with his breviary, followed by a period of silent contemplation before our Lord. Then we have breakfast together, and so I begin the day’s work by going through the correspondence. Then I exchange ideas with the Holy Father, then I accompany him to the ‘Second Loggia’ for the private midday audiences. Then we have lunch together; after the meal we go for a little walk before taking a nap. In the afternoon I again take care of the correspondence. I take the most important stuff which needs his signature to the Holy Father.

Well, that’s a cozy picture—the breakfast and lunches together, the exchange of ideas, that afternoon nap.

Dear Reader, please believe me—I accuse the Holy Father of absolutely no impropriety. Yes, in the presence of such a sex-god, I would be stripping and kneeling as fast as I could, but I think the pope has / does not.

Twin thoughts on Ratzinger—he must keep this man as a constant and terrible reminder of what he has given up, what he has repressed, what he loves and what he cannot express or especially possess. He is a man in love who has never loved and who—obviously—cannot give up the man to whom he has never given himself. It’s a fascinating, religious / erotic hair shirt; a spiritual / psychosexual session with the scourge. He cannot tear himself away.

Could you?

And incredibly, he expects the whole world to believe this.

Second thought—what in hell is the next pope gonna do about this?