Our Chatty Pope

So the question of the moment is: does this guy know what he’s doing?

The word is that Pope Francis is a dab hand at managing the press, but is he? Or are we simply seeing what we saw with John Paul II—which was the collective decision of the media to adore what was a staunchly conservative, repressive theologian who never admitted that there was a sexual abuse scandal in the church. So he got a free pass, as he has even in death, since he was allowed to pass the miracle test with a 50% score. Under church rules, two miracles are needed to establish sainthood. But either Pope Francis or Benedict waived this rule, and allowed John Paul II to be declared a saint based on only one miracle.

So from the beginning, the press has liked this pope. Confession—I generally regard likable popes as more dangerous than disagreeable popes, so Benedict was my man: a completely prissy, probably-way-closeted pope who drove people out of the church faster than sounding a fire alarm. Perfect!

Second confession: though I think it‘s completely nutty, I appreciate theological conservatism on logical grounds. Consider the policy, as my friend Harry once told me, about getting a sperm sample, when needed for infertility counseling. Normally, guys go into a room, in which usually there are some well-thumbed and hopefully not too sticky men’s magazines. But how can a good Catholic give a sperm sample, since absolutely every sexual act must be undergone—considered using the word “endured”—for the sake of procreation?

Right—there’s a procedure: the man goes to bed with his wife, but using a condom, into which a pin has been pricked. There is thus the theoretical chance of procreation, and you get the sample. See?

I love this sort of lunacy—who wouldn’t? But I find it seriously screwy when a pope drifts back to talk to reporters, on the way home from Rio, and sends people’s eyebrows an inch north and their jaws several inches south. Because the five words that everybody associates with this pope is, “who am I to judge?”

Answer—you’re the pope.

It occurred to me, just now—I know what the problem is. Having worked in Human Resources for Wal-Mart for seven years, the answer came to me with my first sip of double espresso. Here goes:

The pope doesn’t have a job description!  

That’s gotta be the problem, because if he did, there would probably be some sort of nonsense in it, on the lines of:

Consistently and rigorously articulate, uphold and champion key components of the Catholic faith, as defined by scripture, tradition, and the entire canon of the faith.

In short, the pope is supposed to get up in the morning and sit down and make moral judgments. That’s why people are dropping the bills in the collection plates.

OK—so the most recent controversy? The pope apparently made a 10-minute call to an Argentinian, Jaquelina Lisbona, who is legally married to a divorced man, and who has been told that she cannot take communion. Why not? Because she is living in sin with her husband of 20 years, since he has divorced, and his first marriage has not been annulled. So the pope grabbed the phone, called her up, and told her, in essence, to shop around for a more sympathetic priest. And that it would be fine to take communion.

One of the most bizarre things about the Catholic Church is how little its faithful know about it. Nor do I, but this much I know—and to make sure, I googled “state of grace communion.” Try it, and you’ll get your answer.

What’s weird is that this is Catholicism 101—and the pope is saying it doesn’t matter?

Predictably, the millions of divorced Catholics went wild—the pope was signaling that the Church was changing! There were winds of modernity galling through the now open doors of the medieval church! Did the pope plan to announce major changes when the meeting of bishops occurred later in the year?

Just as predictably, the conservatives were howling, and here I have to say—who can blame them? Because the church’s teaching on marriage is bedrock.

Of course, it’s also bogus, since a suspiciously high number of marriages are getting annulled, nowadays: a byzantine procedure that requires two tribunals to decide that, no, a marriage never existed at all. Some of it anyone can go along with—if papá is standing over you with a gun, there’s not much consent involved. But life is messier, in general, and the church is increasingly willing to nullify a marriage because, well, your husband turned out to be a drunk. Oh, and guess what? It doesn’t hurt to throw a little money at the problem, and pay for “advocates” who can…well, advocate.

So how many marriages are getting annulled? Here’s Wikipedia:

Diocesan tribunals completed over 49000 cases for nullity of marriage in 2006. Over the past 30 years about 55 to 70% of annulments have occurred in the United States. The growth in annulments—at least in the US—has been substantial. In 1968 338 marriages were annulled. In 2006 27,000 were.[17]    

In fact, both JPII and Benedict repeatedly called for crackdowns on giving annulments, especially at a meeting of the Roman Rota, which typically hears cases for annulment. Here’s what one source said:

In 1991, when Pope John Paul II wanted to defend marriage against what he perceived to be emerging threats, he used his speech to the Rota to lay out a natural-law case for marriage. He acknowledged that marriage is shaped by culture, but contemporary secular culture, he warned, had now become hostile to marriage. Freedom had become "absolutized," and the pontiff wished to make clear where the boundaries lay.

Three years later, in 1994, Pope John Paul II admonished the Rota against the ease with which annulments were being granted. Judges must know the truth, and the truth "is not always easy." Avoid "the temptation to lighten the heavy demands of observing the law in the name of a mistaken idea of compassion and mercy."

Ah, for the good old days!

Right, so what did Francis do? Well apparently he drifted in and gave a seven-paragraph address. Here again is Charles J. Reid on the subject:

What he delivered was a beautiful meditation on Jesus and the qualities of the good judge. The judge, he began, must be fully and maturely human. He or she (and canon law permits women to exercise the judicial office) must never be legalistic, must avoid dry abstractions, and must instead serve the ends of real justice. And justice, he stressed, required full awareness of the needs of the persons before the court. Attend to the person, he emphasized, in his or her "concrete realities."

As Reid writes, the most important message—the take-home, as we used to say at Wal-Mart—was the judges must be pastoral, not judicial. Which leaves me wondering—if the judges are not to be judicial, well, who is? The answer, as I read the article, is nobody: since Jesus had focused his life on the pastoral, everybody within the church is supposed to be pastoral.

Well, the Vatican press office, who must be salivating for the days of Pope Benedict, came out and said that a private call was not a policy shift, not a realignment on doctrine. Which is probably true; there’s an old Roman saying: popes come and go, the curia remains forever.

And this pope needs to be careful, because if he puts out all these hints, and then doesn’t come through? If his bishops hang tough and say, “sorry, but divorced Catholics cannot take communion?” Look at the trouble in the Anglican Church over the ordination of a gay bishop—it would look like Queen Elizabeth’s tea party in comparison to the fight over remarriage of divorced Catholics.

I’m an old atheist, so I tend to scoff at the whole thing. Still, I do sort of wonder…

…should somebody yank the telephone out of the Holy Father’s office?

A middling Enemy

Well, I voted “no,” on the general belief that it has to stop somewhere—and for once I was on the winning side. But then I had to wonder—should the Satanic Temple perform a ritual on Fred Phelps ’s gave, in order to turn him into a gay man in the afterlife? Here’s Lucien Greaves on his promised Pink Mass:

The Satanic Temple exercised its own right to offensive Free Speech in our performance of the Pink Mass at Fred Phelps’s mother’s grave this past summer. After having two same-sex couples (one male, one female) engage in homoerotic activity at the gravesite, we declared Fred Phelps’s mother a post-mortem homosexual conversion. At the time, I predicted that Fred hadn’t too much longer till he would pass, and I stated –- in a direct tweet to the WBC -– that I would be presiding over Fred’s own Pink Mass before too long. As I have made a promise to a dying man, I fully intend to do my very best to see it through, and the pomp and circumstance of this Pink Mass will surely far, far exceed that of the original event in Meridian, Mississippi.

I would have said “no” to this one, too, before I saw the video clip below of documentary filmmaker Michael Moore confronting Phelps. Because it’s one thing to read about the Westboro Baptist Church (WBC) and their odious “God hates fags” protests—it’s another thing to see and hear it. There, the emotion is visceral—the loathing and fear are as palpable as a slap in the gut.

As I contemplate the death of Phelps, I wonder if any good came out of Phelps’s life. He was, in fact, an admirable enemy to have—virtually impossible to like, completely absurd, outrageous. How much different than some of our other enemies!

There was Anita Bryant, for starters, who admittedly was no intellectual goliath, but who certainly had that Southern charm, as well as a megawatt smile. “I don’t hate homosexuals,” she said, or words to that effect, “I love them enough to tell them the truth….”

And we all knew what that was….

For all her wholesomeness, for all the cloy she exuded, the message was pretty bitter. At issue was Dade County, Florida, which in 1977 had approved a resolution that—grab ahold hard onto your seats, friends—prohibited discrimination based on sexual orientation. So what did Bryant do? She started a campaign called Save our Children, and went around the country whipping up the crowds. Want a sample of the intellectual fiber of the debate? Consider these statements, from the Wiikipedia article linked with her name, above:

"As a mother, I know that homosexuals cannot biologically reproduce children; therefore, they must recruit our children" and "If gays are granted rights, next we'll have to give rights to prostitutes and to people who sleep with St. Bernards and to nail biters."

Bryant’s life went downhill rapidly—she divorced her husband and manager, which alienated her from her hardcore religious base. As well, she declared bankruptcy a couple of times, and her career languished.

Bryant was one thing—Falwell, another. Remember this one, immediately following the September 11^th attacks?

"Throwing God out successfully with the help of the federal court system, throwing God out of the public square, out of the schools," he said. "The abortionists have got to bear some burden for this because God will not be mocked. And when we destroy 40 million little innocent babies, we make God mad.

"[T]he pagans and the abortionists and the feminists and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People for the American Way — all of them who have tried to secularize America," Falwell continued, "I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'"

"Well, I totally concur," responded Robertson.

Then the predictable happened:

Angel Watts, a spokeswoman for Robertson's Christian Broadcast Network, said Robertson "of course" did not blame gays or atheists for the attacks.

Right—mopping up after the damage has been done.

Then there was the pope, or the Pope Emeritus, who came out and let us know that “homosexual acts are intrinsically disordered” and therefore homosexuality could never be moral. 

All of this leads us very comfortingly to the smarmiest lie of all—that these people who condemn us are condemning the sin, not the sinner. Yeah? And if I said that “Christian acts are intrinsically disordered?” Would anyone believe that I didn’t have a little grudge, a little axe to grind?

For all his extremism, Phelps may have done considerably less damage than more mainstream, less visibly crazy people. Quick—who is the president of the Mormon Church, which threw more money into California’s Proposition 8 than Phelps and the Westboro Church could ever dream of?

Will Phelps be missed?

Of course not…

Was he our worst enemy?

Absolutely not.

A Free Pass

“He got a free pass,” said the journalist whose name of course I can’t remember. But I do remember thinking, “wow, so somebody agrees with me.”

Readers of this blog will know—I never wasted much time, or indeed any time, thinking up nice things to say about Joseph Ratzinger, the guy whose one unconventional move was to resign and become Pope Emeritus. But Ratzinger took it on the chin all during his papacy—and however much he kicked and clawed to get there, it must have given him little joy.

Yet the journalist cited above wasn’t talking about Ratzinger, but about John Paul II—and I couldn’t agree more. Because what did he have?

Call it the Ronald Reagan effect—it didn’t matter what he said, he looked the part. In fact, playing president of the United States was Reagan’s biggest role. And John Paul did exactly the same.

“He never listened to anyone—he was always talking,” said the journalist. “He had some 100 speeches, and he went around the world making them. But he never listened to anyone. He was theologically conservative, and he let the curia rule—and nearly ruin—the church. And after doing nothing about the priest abuse scandals, then the whole thing erupted during Benedict’s watch. But it was mostly John Paul’s doing. And the press never challenged John Paul, never questioned why he wasn’t acting more decisively. They idolized him.”

Oh, and speaking of the press—where is our press? Because though I’m not a journalist, I did grow up around them. And so when the news came out that Jozef Wesolowski, the ex papal nuncio to the Dominican Republic now being investigated for sexual abuse of minors, hung out in Arecibo and may have engaged in illicit activities—well, I sat back and expected the press to tackle the story.

What did they do?

They acted as press agents for the Catholic Church. The New York Times, in contrast, asked some difficult questions of the Vatican. Questions like why did the church recall Wesolowski, when in 2010 it established new rules that said that anyone—Vatican employee or a member of the diplomatic corps—accused of sexual abuse would be turned over to the civil authorities in the country in which the abuse took place? Had the Dominican Republic been notified? Yes—by the press, not the church.

Here’s what the Times said:

The Vatican’s own rules for conducting sexual abuse investigations under church law call for cooperation with the civil authorities and reporting abuse allegations to the police where laws require it. Those norms were shaped after an explosion of sexual abuse cases in 2010, when thousands of people came forward in Europe, South America and elsewhere detailing abuse by priests whom church officials had not reported to the police.

To my knowledge, nobody locally picked it up. Why not? Is the Times too difficult to read?

Or what about this tidbit, which I quoted yesterday:

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

So Wesolowski hindered more than a dozen pederast priest cases in the diocese of Arecibo and nobody is going after that?

And is anybody aware that this case is unique because it is the first time a Vatican official may have committed crimes in Puerto Rico? And Puerto Rico, by the way, falls under US jurisdiction. So that means that for the first time, after years of trying, a court can challenge the Vatican directly—instead of whatever diocese the bishop or priest belonged to. And that might lead to a mother lode of information.

Is anybody asking our justice department if they are conducting an investigation of the more-than-dozen cases that Wesolowski may have obstructed? Is our justice department cooperating with the Dominican Republic? Are they considering pressing charges? And by the way, are there any abuse victims out there? What’s their story, and are they considering pressing charges?

Is anybody poking around Arecibo, trying to figure out why the Catholic Church had to close down an entire seminary? Was it that full of gay men?

Or we could ask—what about the rumor that there was a close relationship between Wesolowski and the former bishop of Arecibo, Iñaki Mallona? Oh, and where is the former bishop? Is he still in Puerto Rico? Because an odd thing seems to happen in the Catholic Church—clerics tend to be curiously out of sight. I have just consulted the website Switchboard.com and learned that there is a Marc Newhouse, age 57, in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Oh, and I got my number, as I did for five of my friends. But frequently, when I try the same thing for a member of the clergy, I can’t track them down. They are living in rectories or parish houses or retreats or somewhere; they tend not to have phones in their own name, except, of course, for cell phones. So they’re hard to find. 

The New Day, our local paper, has a large staff of reporters. But does it have a religion editor? Most papers do. And on an island where 80% of the population is Catholic, shouldn’t there be at least one reporter who’s on top of issues affecting the church?

Just as John Paul got a free pass, so, in Puerto Rico last week…

…did the Catholic Church.

A Man of God and Catholicism Lite

Three men of God, three men speaking their views on gay people. Which strikes me as a bit odd—has anyone come around and asked Ricky Martin, say, or Anderson Cooper their views on religion? At any rate, we have the pope on record—he’s a sinner, he said, as we all are. And who is he to judge gay people? Here’s his quote, as it appeared in The New York Times:

In Buenos Aires I used to receive letters from homosexual persons who are “socially wounded” because they tell me that they feel like the church has always condemned them. But the church does not want to do this. During the return flight from Rio de Janeiro, I said that if a homosexual person is of good will and is in search of God, I am no one to judge. By saying this, I said what the catechism says. Religion has the right to express its opinion in the service of the people, but God in creation has set us free: it is not possible to interfere spiritually in the life of a person.

A person once asked me, in a provocative manner, if I approved of homosexuality. I replied with another question: “Tell me: when God looks at a gay person, does he endorse the existence of this person with love, or reject and condemn this person?” We must always consider the person.

OK—it’s a step. It’s better than Benedict, who tended to couple the word “homosexuality” with the phrase “intrinsically evil,” or the like. And we all took the bait—hey, after all those years of Ratzinger, we’re yearning for a pope who gets it, who starts moving the church forward.

And he certainly seems different—living in the guest house, driving a Ford escort, eschewing the pomp that was Benedict’s lifeblood and focusing on the poor. But how liberal is this pope? Here are his views on women, from the same interview:

I am wary of a solution that can be reduced to a kind of “female machismo,” because a woman has a different makeup than a man. But what I hear about the role of women is often inspired by an ideology of machismo. Women are asking deep questions that must be addressed. The church cannot be herself without the woman and her role. The woman is essential for the church. Mary, a woman, is more important than the bishops. I say this because we must not confuse the function with the dignity. We must therefore investigate further the role of women in the church. We have to work harder to develop a profound theology of the woman. Only by making this step will it be possible to better reflect on their function within the church. The feminine genius is needed wherever we make important decisions. The challenge today is this: to think about the specific place of women also in those places where the authority of the church is exercised for various areas of the church.

Is it just me, or is anyone else out there confused about that first sentence, and the reference to “female machismo?” I think what he’s saying is something like, “insisting that men and women are equals and should be able to hold the same positions is wrong. Women and men are intrinsically different, and no, dears, no priesthood or God forbid papacy for you!”

And am I the only one who is thoroughly sick of the church’s trotting out Mary every time women raise legitimate questions or demands? Partly because as I understand it, biblically speaking, Mary isn’t an especially likeable character—nor does she seem to figure very prominently in the life of Jesus. Here’s Wikipedia on the subject:

There is also an incident in which Jesus is sometimes interpreted as rejecting his family. "And his mother and his brothers arrived, and standing outside, they sent in a message asking for him^[Mk 3:21] ... And looking at those who sat in a circle around him, Jesus said, 'These are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does the will of God is my brother, and sister, and mother.'"

But all this veneration of Mary seems to come with the message: we’re perfectly happy to put you on a pedestal, but not in the priesthood. And notice as well that the pope’s “liberal” views on homosexuality don’t go that far, he hardly comes out and says, “both gay and straight people were made in God’s image, both of their loves are of equal worth, and gay people will have the same rights and privileges as heterosexuals in the Catholic church, including marriage.”

Nonetheless, everybody is jumping on the bandwagon, including the Reverend Timothy M. Dolan, the Archbishop of New York. Here he is, courtesy of The New York Times:

After Sunday Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Cardinal Dolan, who has himself softened his language on homosexuality in the past year, likened the pope to the Yankees’ retiring relief pitcher: “I think he’s our Mariano Rivera. He’s a great relief to all of us.”

Ummmm, this is a guy who said the following to The New York Times during Holy Week this year:

“Well, the first thing I’d say to them is: ‘I love you, too. And God loves you. And you are made in God’s image and likeness. And — and we — we want your happiness. But — and you’re entitled to friendship,’” Cardinal Dolan said. “But we also know that God has told us that the way to happiness, that — especially when it comes to sexual love — that is intended only for a man and woman in marriage, where children can come about naturally.”

Yeah? This sounds suspiciously like all those people whose views are “evolving,” and can’t we say it, at last. “Evolving” simply means not sticking your neck out until it’s absolutely imperative—failure to do so will make you look like a complete hypocrite. Great—now we know that God loves us, as well as the Cardinal, but sex with a person of the same gender is a sin.

The person who gets it? Gene Robinson, who just about caused a schism in the church, when he became the first openly gay bishop. And as you’ll see in the clip below, he doesn’t mince words: we’ve done a lot of damage to gay people, and we’re gonna have to work hard to repair the damage. There’s a reason why LGBT people are suspicious and angry. He comes out and says it to a group of Presbyterians who will be giving out glasses of water at the Gay Pride march later in the day: “You are representing the community of Christians, Jews and Muslims who are 95% of the repression we LGBT people have experienced in our lives.”

Or how about, “you are the oppressor offering the cup of water to the oppressed?” Robinson doesn’t pull the punches, or—perhaps a better image—hesitate to go into the temple and lecture to the money lenders. Nor—from the faces of the stony Presbyterians—is his message better received.

And Robinson is out there, walking the talk—passing out the cups of water to drag queens, scantily-clad boys, street performers, and the just-general-folk who drift by.

For all the talk of not focusing on abortion, homosexuality, contraception—what are we hearing? A sort of Catholicism of Nice—we won’t talk about it, we won’t judge, now come into the church but please, lower your voices, don’t rock the boat, no demands.

Congratulations—the Catholic Church has progressed to Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

The Archbishop Leaves Victorious

Well, the archbishop won.

Readers of this blog will remember the 19-month long inquisition of the archbishop, who was alleged to have committed various wrongs: selling a school without permission, covering up pederast priests, supporting legislation that would allow straight or gay couples living together to get insurance, and—here was the real dirt—setting up an altar to the patria—or motherland—in the cathedral.

Archbishop Roberto González Nieves is an independentista, and is perfectly happy to have everyone know it. So he set up the altar in the cathedral—take a look:

OK—not a problem, right? Well, seen through Puerto Rican eyes, there was just a little omission, namely the absence of another flag, called la pecosa, or the freckled one. Puerto Rico, you see, has but one star on its flag—the US flag has fifty. Hence, freckles—see?

Nor was that all. González conceived the wonderful idea of digging up the bones of a long dead statesman, Ramón Power y Giralt, a man who had represented Puerto Rico in a fledgling attempt at representation in Spain. And there he had died, and there he was buried—away from his beloved Puerto Rico, and away from his beloved friend, the first Puerto Rican bishop, Juan Alejo de Arizmendi. And wouldn’t it be wonderful if these two great Puerto Ricans at last could be united, these many centuries later, here at the Altar to the patria, in the land which they had loved so much, and for which they had battled so arduously?

“He was buried in a mass grave,” sputtered Mr. Fernández, referring to Alejo de Arizmendi, “he died of yellow fever, or some such thing. So the damn Spaniards dug up some old bones, and sent them over here! They’re probably still laughing!”

Well, it was true—the Spaniards sent over their training ship: it docked; a troop of cute Spaniards got out in their best ornamental uniforms; trumpets and fifes and drums got played; the Spaniards carried with great formality the “remains” to the state capitol, where they were received with Caribbean effusion. 

Well, the other music in the room—or on the island—was the collective gnashing of the teeth by those who favor statehood. The archbishop, they frothed, was injecting politics into religion; he was shoving his belief down their throats. They complained to the papal nuncio, who lives on the next island over. Being a territory, Puerto Rico cannot have a nuncio of its own, so we have to share.

And apparently the nuncio, Jozef Wesolowsky, was all too happy to launch an investigation, which he did by calling in a bishop from Ecuador, Guayaquil Antonio Arregui Yarza. Letters flew back and forth, leaked to the press—and in May, it was rumored that the archbishop had been asked to resign.

Ah, but by then the archbishop had gotten his break—Benedict decided to thumb his nose at half a millennium of church history and resign. And guess who got the job? A fellow Latin American—a guy who was both a pana and a pala.

Translation—a buddy and a connection.

In June, the archbishop was crowing victory. And in August?

Well, this is a dish that was served on ice, if not completely deep-frozen. For the papal nuncio, Jozef Wesolowsky, has been sacked, and charged with molesting young boys.

Here’s an account from Pedro Espinal, the bird who decided to sing:

“Nosotros una vez fuimos a Juan Dolio con 48 monaguillos de lo cual, eeehh, yo dormía en la parte afuera de la casa del Nuncio apostólico, que está en  Juan Dolio, de vacaciones. Y  nos repartimos, como entre cinco adultos que estábamos, los niños; cinco dormían conmigo, cinco con otro y cinco con otro, y así sucesivamente. Pero él (el padre Wojciech) siempre escogía  los niños más pequeños.”

Translation: Once we went with 48 altar boys to Juan Dolio, where I slept outside of the house of the Papal nuncio, who was there on vacation. We shared, among the five of us adults, the kids: five slept with me, five with the other, and five with another, and so on. But he (father Wojciech, a friend and fellow priest) always chose the youngest.

And so on the 21^st of August, the papal nuncio was stripped of his positions. And where is he? Nobody knows. Oh, and the friend mentioned above, Wojciech? He went on the lam to his native Poland.

Nor, apparently, did Wesolowsky engage in this behavior only while on vacation—he was well known in the old city of Santo Domingo, where he plied kids with alcohol, and then had sex with them in an abandoned monument to Fray Antón de Montesinos. Here’s an account:

SANTO DOMINGO, República Dominicana.-La periodista Nuria Piera denunció que el hasta hace poco embajador del Vaticano en Santo Domingo, Joséf (o Joseph) Wesolowski, era un habitual visitante de la Zona Colonial, lugares donde tomaba alcohol y luego pagaba a niños para sostener relaciones sexuales en el abandonado   a Fray Antón de Montesinos, en el malecón de Santo Domingo.

Well, the district attorney in Santo Domingo, Yeni Berenice Reynoso, has decided to open an investigation, even without having spoken with the victims. So Wesolowsky, if they can find him, is cooked.

Anybody want to bet he’s in the Vatican?

Popes, Presidents and Lies

Right, so now we know. The pope—the new one, not the old one—has come out and said it, and the Vatican has not denied it; so that’s pretty high on the credibility scale. Now then, hold on to your seats, take a deep breath, and prepare for the unimaginable.

There is a gay lobby in the Vatican.

Also, of course, many many saints, said the pope. But yes, in addition to that gay lobby, there is a “stream of corruption.”

You remember the question of Ratzinger, the old pope, who retired last February and trotted off to Castel Gondolfo, to spend pleasant days and nights with his personal secretary, Padre Georg, a hunk who makes Clooney look like Archie Bunker. Here’s a sweet photo of them together:

Right, I’d be grinning too, if I had that guy that close to me. Well, the old pope is proposing to live the rest of his days in the Vatican; Padre Georg will be secretary during the day for the new pope, and then walk home where he will be secretary during the evenings for the old pope.

People in Italy found this situation unusual; as one reporter put it, the pope routinely enjoys robust health until the day he dies. For a man not known as a trailblazer, Ratzinger caused millions of jaws to drop the day he decided to retire.

The press then speculated—was there any reason that the pope decided to retire? Age and frail health are nothing new to the papacy—what had changed that had made it necessary for the pope to retire? Two things came up, two very old things: sex and money.

There was talk of a secret report written by three cardinals; the report, it was said, would be given to the new pope personally by the old pope. The Vatican press agent, of course, completely dismissed the idea of a “gay lobby,” essentially calling the idea absurd.

Well, chatting in Spanish to the Latin American and Caribbean Confederation of Religious (CLAR), Francis dropped the news, and the press office, declaring the event private, had no comment.

I’m thinking a lot lately about secrecy and deception. The Vatican knew about a situation and lied; the head of our national security agency, James R. Clapper, looked a congressman straight in the eye and lied. And I am trying to remember—when was the last time I lied?

Well, I’m either a completely dishonest person—and thus incapable of seeing the terrible truth that I’m prevaricating at a prodigious rate—or I’m pretty honest. Barring social lies, I really can’t remember the last time I lied to anyone.

Cancel that—I pleaded a headache recently to get out of an engagement. But I did feel guilty about it. Which, perhaps, is more than Clapper feels; here’s his justification for lying to Senator Wyden:

 "I have great respect for Senator Wyden," Clapper said in an interview with NBC on Sunday. "I thought, though in retrospect, I was asked-- 'When are you going to start-- stop beating your wife' kind of question, which is meaning not-- answerable necessarily by a simple yes or no. So I responded in what I thought was the most truthful, or least untruthful manner by saying no."

This is an insult. A senator asked you a question, Clapper, and there was nothing of a trick or ruse about it. It was a simple, direct question that made you uncomfortable, and so you decided that it couldn’t be answered by a simple yes or no. But what did you do? You said, “no, Sir.” And then weaseled around by saying, “not wittingly.”

What’s worse is the White House’s response to the controversy. Here’s CBS News on the subject:

President Obama "certainly believes that Director Clapper has been straight and direct in the answers he's given" Congress, White House spokesman Jay Carney said Tuesday, adding that Clapper has been "aggressive in providing as much information as possible to the American people, to the press." 

Well, Clapper certainly was straight and direct. “No, Sir,” is both; unfortunately, it wasn’t true.

That said, no one really gets off the hook. Obama says that all the activities of the National Security Agency have been vetted both by congress and by federal judges. If true—and it hurts to write those words—then everybody knew, and it took a 29 year-old kid, now branded as a traitor, to tell the people the truth. But if true, why was Senator Wyden asking the question in the first place?

And tell me, how does it jeopardize national security by telling the public in general terms how we’re going about doing national intelligence?

The Obama administration is saying, as did the Bush administration, “trust us.” Unfortunately, neither administration has proved worthy—on this issue—of trust.

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…. 

A Rich and Bankrupt Church

It’s a story at once byzantine and utterly evil. There is a man, a Father Maciel, who commits horrific acts of abuse against seminarians in his own seminary, in the seminary he has founded. This fact was acknowledged by the Vatican in a statement in 2010. Here’s Wikipedia on the matter:

The "very serious and objectively immoral acts" of Maciel, which were "confirmed by incontrovertible testimonies" represent "true crimes and manifest a life without scruples or authentic religious sentiment", the Vatican said.[31] The Vatican also stated that the Legion created a "mechanism of defense" around Maciel to shield him from accusations and suppress damaging witnesses from reporting abuse. "It made him untouchable," the Vatican said. The statement decried "the lamentable disgracing and expulsion of those who doubted" Maciel's virtue. The Vatican statement did not address whether the Legion's current leadership would face any sanctions.[32] Actions taken by the current Legion leadership will be scrutinized; but no specific sanctions were mentioned, amid suspicion that at least some of the current leaders must have been aware of Maciel's sins. The Vatican acknowledged the "hardships" faced by Maciel's accusers through the years when they were ostracized or ridiculed, and commended their "courage and perseverance to demand the truth."

“No, Marc,” you are groaning. “enough with the sexual abuse scandals in the Catholic church. Basta ya!”

Well, you may have a point. But this is a story that hasn’t been much heard. The YouTube clip—actually four clips of 15 minutes each—has only been seen by some 1900 people. That’s nothing in YouTube terms. And this is a story that, yes, is as saturated with abuse as a wet dog. But it also is about something often linked to sex…

…money.

Father Maciel, born in Cotija de la Paz, Michoacán, Mexico in 1920, barely made it to the priesthood—two seminaries kicked him out, and no other seminary would touch him. So he was tutored privately, and then wealthy connections greased his way into the priesthood. And he was on the Vatican’s screen early on—in 1956 he was hospitalized for drug abuse in Rome, and suspended as a priest. But he slipped back in during the interregnum between popes—the Secretary of State for the Vatican reappoints him head of the congregation.

What congregation, you ask.

Maciel founded the Legion of Christ in 1941, with the help of his uncle, a bishop. And Maciel was a charismatic leader, who followed a well-established tactic for gaining power. Go after the rich, especially the rich women, and better yet, old rich women.

And he certainly did well. Here’s a statement from the National Catholic Reporter: “By 2004, the Legion had a $650 million budget and $1 billion in assets for the prep schools, seminaries and universities in Latin America, Europe and North America.”

Macel also was, according to another source, the greatest fundraiser to the Catholic Church in modern times.

That makes you friends, and friends he had. Certainly in the Catholic world—the prominent Catholic thinker Richard John Neuhaus defended him, called charges against Maciel “scurrilous.” Carlos Slim, the world’s richest guy is a pal, as is William Bennett, the former Secretary of Education turned-CNN commentator.

And the biggest pal of all was John Paul II, who praised him lavishly on the first trip ever of a pope to Mexico.

Money, Dear Reader, doesn’t talk—it’s sings, it lures, it clouds and befuddles the intellect, not to mention the moral scheme, as effectively as those vials that filled a large suitcase that Maciel showed to a legionary.

Yes, by the 80’s or 90’s, Maciel no longer had to send seminarians to the hospital, to plead for more drugs for the founder of Legion of Christ. A doctor had given him carte blanche to mix as much of the opiate as he wanted.

He was “sick,” went the story, and in great pain.

Well, the sick part I believe, though not quite in the sense intended.

He also fostered sickness. The legionaries are told never, ever, to criticize Maciel, and to snitch on those who do. They are taken as teenagers and told only to send letters once a month to their parents. Worse, they are allowed to see their parents once every seven years, according to one parent, a heartbroken woman form Elk Grove, Wisconsin. Their Internet access is restricted, their letters home are censored.

Remember—this was the thing that got the Moonies in trouble—or at least earned them a few black marks, in the public eye.

This would be bad enough—the abuse, the cultism that prompted the bishops of Cincinnati and Columbus to ban the Legion from their dioceses. And speaking of abuse, it seems that Maciel swung both ways, fathering as many as—perhaps—six children.

What’s worse?

The Vatican knew all this.

It’s the familiar story. Nine victims of Father Maciel lodged a formal complaint in the Vatican. Incredibly, even as the investigation was continuing, the Vatican then announced that it had stopped the investigation. Later, the Vatican announced to the victims that the case had been shelved.

In 2004, the victims get a letter—the case has been reopened. The letter is from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, headed by Ratzinger, who, as I wearily point out, had directed that ALL cases of priestly abuse be sent to his desk.

And Ratzinger has a little moral dilemma. Here’s the Catholic Reporter again on the subject:

"Ratzinger wanted to elevate John Paul to beatification," said Barba, coauthor of La Voluntad de No Saber ("The Will Not to Know"), an analysis of Vatican documents on Maciel. The book's publication last March and Benedict's refusal to meet with Maciel victims on a trip to Mexico ignited an onslaught of bad press for the pope. Benedict had to reckon with the embarrassment of John Paul's praise of Maciel after the 1998 case, in essence scoffing at allegations against one of the most notorious sexual criminals in church history. By keeping a lid on Maciel's secret life, Barba said, Benedict hoped "to defend the sainthood case against the accusations that John Paul protected predators."

Well, it’s another case of a morally bankrupt man who heads a church of 1.2 billion people of doing anything to promote his church. This man, who meets with abuse survivors, who prays with them, sheds tears with them, values a canonization over the truth.

Which had it been told might have swayed the mind of a devoted legionary, a widow named Gabrielle D. Mee, who left 60 million bucks to the Legion in 2008. The family is suing, stating that Mee would never have given the money had she known that the founder of the organization was a pervert who had fathered children as well.

That’s interesting, but hardly the point that concerns me.

At three this morning I was eating pizza and reading a piece by John Cornwell, a writer and Catholic known for his book Hitler’s Pope. He points out that the death—and now resignation—of a pope doesn’t remove just one man, but the entire curia, the administration of the church. The top guys all lose their jobs, and new guys are put into their place. And yes, Cornwell completely buys in to the theory published in the Italian press that the report commissioned by the three cardinals reveals sexual and fiscal misdeeds at the top level of the curia.

Which may be the reason Ratzinger isn’t returning to the beloved Germany of his birth. He can’t. He has to stay, and work with the new pope.

Here’s the question: is he staying to clean up?

Or cover up?