Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood? (reposted)

Talking about the Catholic Church, I leave you with this post originally published on May 22, 2013....

Well, a new statistic—there are some 315 million people in the USA, and 750,000 sex offenders. So that means that one person in 420 in the United States is a sex offender. And there’s a little problem—where do you put these guys?

I know about this because the New York Times had a video this morning about a sex offender village in Florida. And I can also tell you—nothing reveals the deep prudery of the United States better than this video. One man, living with his mother, had sex at the age of 18 with a girlfriend, age 16. Another guy was in “gay rehab”—wow, didn’t know we could do that, have to check it out—and mentioned to his counselor that he had touched a boy inappropriately. Still another “computer solicited a minor”—whom he never met.

Granted, no criminal comes right out and says, “yeah, I sadistically assaulted and tortured a little girl, and hey, I’d do it again, in a flash!” But the Times video does make several points. It shows the church member who says that the church got involved because there is almost nowhere to live that isn’t within whatever state limit has been established from a place where kids congregate. So they found a community that had been built to house sugar cane workers; the workers are mostly gone, but the sugar cane fields remain.

Then there is the public defender of Palm Beach, 35 miles away, who makes the point: there’s a big difference between an 18-year old kid screwing his 16-year old girlfriend and a rapist. But they are both “sex offenders” and they both have a label for life.

There’s also the point that not one complaint of a sex offense has occurred in the sex offenders village.

So there are over 100 sex offenders living in the village of Pahokee, Florida—isolated from the rest of Florida by sugar cane. Right, so who are the people in my neighborhood?  Are kids safe?

Don’t have the answer, but according to the NSOPW website, there are eight sex offenders in my zip code.

OK—anything I need to worry about?

Yeah—a guy who tried to commit rape and sodomy in 1974. Another who intentionally committed child abuse. A couple of men who committed lewd acts, and one who attempted to commit a lewd act. (Sorry, but I can’t quite get my head around that. Was he just about to pull down his pants? Was he intercepted in a grope?) Several have moved in from other jurisdictions, and no details are given.

Mind you, there is a school three blocks away from where I live, as well as a school across the street from where two of the offenders live (if the database is accurate).   

All right—another statistic: one in six women will be raped in the course of her lifetime.

That’s serious—that’s something I’d like to know about. What I’m not interested in knowing is what an 18-year-old kid did with his 16-year-old girlfriend. Assuming it was done consensually, assuming no one got hurt, I couldn’t care less. And the video makes a good point—there’s not a lot of work out there for registered sex offenders. Once you’re on the list, that’s it—you can kiss that promising career in food preparation at Burger King goodbye.

We’ve all gone a little crazy, I think. We have the courts giving sentences to kids having sex with kids two years younger than them. At the same time, we have the Catholic Church, which is reportedly still harboring real sex offenders. And, as well, we have a Catholic bishop who has been convicted of not reporting the case of a predator priest.

Yes, I bring you the sorry case of Robert W. Finn, the bishop of Kansas City, who was convicted last year on one account of failure to report Shawn Ratigan, a priest who had hundred of pictures of the private parts of little girls. The pictures were apparently so shocking that the computer technician who discovered them on the laptop Ratigan had brought in for repair later stated: “my hands were shaking so much, I could barely turn off the machine.”

So what did the bishop do? Transferred Ratigan to another place, and told Ratigan to stay away from kids. And what did Ratigan do? Got right back involved with a youth group. Oh, and went to dinner at a parishioner’s house, and got caught by Poppa, photographing with his cellphone the daughter under the table.

For all of this, the bishop has received a suspended sentence, and has agreed to meet monthly with court officials. But the gay guy—or did the rehab work?—down there in the sex offender village, how much time did he get?

A year in the county jail.

Clothes make the man, it’s said, and it’s evidently true. Who knew that a Roman Collar was a pass to touch any child anywhere at any time?  

Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood?

Well, a new statistic—there are some 315 million people in the USA, and 750,000 sex offenders. So that means that one person in 420 in the United States is a sex offender. And there’s a little problem—where do you put these guys?

I know about this because the New York Times had a video this morning about a sex offender village in Florida. And I can also tell you—nothing reveals the deep prudery of the United States better than this video. One man, living with his mother, had sex at the age of 18 with a girlfriend, age 16. Another guy was in “gay rehab”—wow, didn’t know we could do that, have to check it out—and mentioned to his counselor that he had touched a boy inappropriately. Still another “computer solicited a minor”—whom he never met.

Granted, no criminal comes right out and says, “yeah, I sadistically assaulted and tortured a little girl, and hey, I’d do it again, in a flash!” But the Times video does make several points. It shows the church member who says that the church got involved because there is almost nowhere to live that isn’t within whatever state limit has been established from a place where kids congregate. So they found a community that had been built to house sugar cane workers; the workers are mostly gone, but the sugar cane fields remain.

Then there is the public defender of Palm Beach, 35 miles away, who makes the point: there’s a big difference between an 18-year old kid screwing his 16-year old girlfriend and a rapist. But they are both “sex offenders” and they both have a label for life.

There’s also the point that not one complaint of a sex offense has occurred in the sex offenders village.

So there are over 100 sex offenders living in the village of Pahokee, Florida—isolated from the rest of Florida by sugar cane. Right, so who are the people in my neighborhood?  Are kids safe?

Don’t have the answer, but according to the NSOPW website, there are eight sex offenders in my zip code.

OK—anything I need to worry about?

Yeah—a guy who tried to commit rape and sodomy in 1974. Another who intentionally committed child abuse. A couple of men who committed lewd acts, and one who attempted to commit a lewd act. (Sorry, but I can’t quite get my head around that. Was he just about to pull down his pants? Was he intercepted in a grope?) Several have moved in from other jurisdictions, and no details are given.

Mind you, there is a school three blocks away from where I live, as well as a school across the street from where two of the offenders live (if the database is accurate).   

All right—another statistic: one in six women will be raped in the course of her lifetime.

That’s serious—that’s something I’d like to know about. What I’m not interested in knowing is what an 18-year-old kid did with his 16-year-old girlfriend. Assuming it was done consensually, assuming no one got hurt, I couldn’t care less. And the video makes a good point—there’s not a lot of work out there for registered sex offenders. Once you’re on the list, that’s it—you can kiss that promising career in food preparation at Burger King goodbye.

We’ve all gone a little crazy, I think. We have the courts giving sentences to kids having sex with kids two years younger than them. At the same time, we have the Catholic Church, which is reportedly still harboring real sex offenders. And, as well, we have a Catholic bishop who has been convicted of not reporting the case of a predator priest.

Yes, I bring you the sorry case of Robert W. Finn, the bishop of Kansas City, who was convicted last year on one account of failure to report Shawn Ratigan, a priest who had hundred of pictures of the private parts of little girls. The pictures were apparently so shocking that the computer technician who discovered them on the laptop Ratigan had brought in for repair later stated: “my hands were shaking so much, I could barely turn off the machine.”

So what did the bishop do? Transferred Ratigan to another place, and told Ratigan to stay away from kids. And what did Ratigan do? Got right back involved with a youth group. Oh, and went to dinner at a parishioner’s house, and got caught by Poppa, photographing with his cellphone the daughter under the table.

For all of this, the bishop has received a suspended sentence, and has agreed to meet monthly with court officials. But the gay guy—or did the rehab work?—down there in the sex offender village, how much time did he get?

A year in the county jail.

Clothes make the man, it’s said, and it’s evidently true. Who knew that a Roman Collar was a pass to touch any child anywhere at any time?  

One More Corrupt Archbishop

Why me?

Look guys, there are three major newspapers in Puerto Rico—El Nuevo Día, Primera Hora, and El Vocero. The first two are owned by the same company, but maintain separate staffs; the third is privately owned. All three have journalists, who are supposed to do stuff like sniff around, dig a bit of dirt, ask some questions, try and get some answers.

I, however, am not a journalist and know nothing about the profession, though I was exposed to many a breakfast / dinner rant by my father, who believed that the press was railroading Dick Nixon out of town. (Think the jury’s in on that…) So why do I have to step up to the plate? Isn’t that your job?

OK—here’s what I find seriously screwy. Two or three days ago, I reported that the archbishop of San Juan, Roberto González Nieves, had released a copy of a letter he had written to the Vatican. The letter expressed horror that he—González—had been viciously accused of four things, which he came right out and listed. They were:

1.     Protecting pedophile priests

2.     Investigating Reverend Edward Santana with no jurisdiction to do so

3.     Shared residences

4.     El Altar de la Patria

Right—I knew about the Altar, but what was the deal with the other three charges? I turned very trustingly to the press, and guess what?

You guys let me down.

Say whaaa?

We got the highest religious (stet) on the island coming out and saying that the Vatican is accusing him of protecting pedophile priests, and all you guys do is print the letter, state that González Nieves has said all he’s going to on the matter, shrug your shoulders and say, “yeah, whatever…?”

Guys—are you the church bulletin?

If not, maybe you should be making some calls, doing so digging, worrying about something other than—no idea who she is but I see her name all the time—Shakira.

All right, let’s do the unknowns in reverse order.

Despite what I initially thought about “shared residences,”—no, it doesn’t mean that González is living with anybody (though the rumor a decade ago was…OK, never mind). No, González came out in favor several years ago with a proposal that would make people living together under one roof eligible for three things: inheritance, hospital visitation rights, and inclusion in the medical plan of one of the partners. And no—it could be a straight couple or anybody, but the reality was that a whole lot of gay people would be, had it been approved, coming in the house por la cocina / through the kitchen (as we say down here)….

Right—so that was easy.

Now then, charges 2 and 1 are linked. But first, let’s do a little background.

González was born in 1950 in New Jersey, but went to school here in San Juan. He became a priest in 1977, worked in the Bronx until, in 1988, he was appointed auxiliary bishop for the See of Boston. Which at the time—and bells should definitely ring here—was under the head of Bernard Law.

Right—so you didn’t hear the bells. Let me spell it out—Law has cost the Catholic church tens if not hundreds of millions of dollars in sex abuse payouts, and, though retired, he’s still very much in the church.

Right—so this morning at 3AM, when I woke craving jellybeans, I began to look up (OK, google) “González Nieves pederast priests.” And there’s nothing much there, except for one survivor network website that says, given Law’s heinous actions, that it wouldn’t be surprising if Gonzalez didn’t have some mud on his white Cossack (if that’s what it is)….

OK—brushed the teeth, went back to bed. And I resumed the search today, this time doing “Puerto Rico pedophile priests” or rather “sacerdotes pedófilos Puerto Rico” (always helps to know a little Spanish)…. And there I ran into a website encouraging, well, here’s a quote:

Aunque hay muchos obstáculos legales para poder procesar a los responsables del abuso, los abogados de Jeff Anderson & Associates están haciendo un llamado especial en Puerto Rico para los casos de abuso sexual cometidos por sacerdotes en la Isla, ya que este equipo de abogados ha trabajado por más de 25 años para superar estos obstáculos.  

Hey, Jeff Anderson up in Minnesota speaks Spanish, too! In fact, Avid Reader, we all ran into Anderson some time ago, when considering the curious case of Maciel, an old buddy of Benedict’s. So here is Anderson, making a special call for abuse victims in Puerto Rico to come forward, and saying his team of lawyers has more than 25 years of experience.

The real find came later, when I was invited to see a list of priests reported to have committed pedophilia, just by clicking, as you can, here: http://www.abusadoenpuertorico.com/Sacerdotes_Acusados.aspx

OK—do that, and I get the list of 14 clergy who have been accused of abuse. And one name in particular caught my eye: The Reverend Edward Santana.

Go back to the list of the four charges so wrongfully slung at the archbishop. Then put a checkmark next to number 2.

Right—some of the clergy have just one PDF file next to their name. Santana has 16. None of which are linked to an active file; I got this when clicking on each one of them:

404 - File or directory not found.

The resource you are looking for might have been removed, had its name changed, or is temporarily unavailable.

Right—so what would happen if I googled “Edward Santana sacerdote Puerto Rico?” Well, I come up with not much, and so I turn to a website with, perhaps, an axe to grind. Read it, in Spanish, with the box of salt in hand…

OK, here’s the report: Edward Santana was accused in 2001 before the archbishop of Caguas, a city in the center of the island. A mother charged Santana with sexual harassment of her daughter, and the church, reportedly, balked, saying there was no eyewitness. Eventually, however, the diocese offered a deal—a certain sum of money and the removal of Santana from his position, if the claimant would drop the matter. Allegedly, the diocese didn’t come through, and the claimant went up one level, asking the papal nuncio over in Santo Domingo to intervene. Apparently he did, though not before the news gets splashed over the front pages of the papers.

Now it gets murky—Primera Hora, in an article dated 18 May 2002, states that the Archbishop of Caguas had relieved Santana from his duties, and would be sending him off for rehab. Santana could, however, say mass and hear confession.

The website labuenaventurapr.com has a different, or perhaps fuller story. In this scenario, Santana—get ready—got transferred to Arecibo, where he was given a parish and was in contact with kids. Oh, and the goat that calmed the cup (la gota que colmó la copa)? The archbishop of Arecibo named Santana an ecclesiastical judge.

Things got hotter than usual, which is to say very hot indeed, and then the day came when Santana announced he had cancer; he had to go up to gringolandia for treatment. He did, remaining—allegedly—on the payroll.

Well, the sunny skies of Florida had a rejuvenating effect on Santana, and guess what! He’s now cured, connected with the Archdiocese of Miami, and also serving as…

…yes, yet again, an ecclesiastical judge.

Guys, I could call the archdiocese of Miami, or even just look it up.

But isn’t that your job?  

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?

The Last Thing Needed

There’s a moment in the movie The Queen when “Tony Blair” is watching the royal family on television. “Somebody has got to save these people,” he says, “from themselves.”

Which is a little like how I feel about Joe Ratzinger, as he prepares to leave his church in an absolute mess.

Consider it—we have a secret report that only the pope knows about and only the next pope will see. This couldn’t be more made-for-television.

Nor does the response from the Vatican do anything to calm the waters. They come out swinging, accusing the media and other enemies of the church of attempting to influence the election of the next pope.

Things settle down for a day and then BAM! A top Catholic in Great Britain, a cardinal, steps down after four people came forward with allegations of abuse from the 1980’s. So he’s out, and cancels his trip to Rome to elect the next pope.

Unlike the cardinal of Los Angeles, who has been rebuked as well as stripped of his diocesan duties by his successor. Well, he’s in Rome now, having been deposed in a civil case over the weekend.

And he’s fighting—he’s just written in his blog about how hard it is to forgive his enemies, to love them, to take to heart Jesus’ message of love and forgiveness. So screw you to the 10,000 Los Angelinos who have signed a petition saying he’s hardly qualified to select the next pope.

Well, that does seem sensible. Whatever his “diocesan duties” are, they can’t be more important that a papal conclave, right?

He makes, by the way, a good point. Here’s the Los Angeles Times:

"I can't recall a time such as now when people tend to be so judgmental and even self-righteous, so quick to accuse, judge and condemn," Mahony wrote on his personal blog. "And often with scant real facts and information.  Because of news broadcasts now 24/7 there is little or no fact checking; no in-depth analysis; no context or history given.  Rather, everything gets reported as 'news' regardless of the basis for the item being reported -- and passed on by countless other news outlets." 

Well, Jack would agree—he’d be howling in pain at the quality of journalism today. But it is a matter of record that the diocese of Los Angeles has had to cough up 660 million in a settlement with abuse victims. Oh, and Mahony was in charge there for about thirty years.

So we’re in Roman or Vatican fever. What’s really going on, what’s in the secret report, and mostly….

…what’s next?

Because it feels both that the ship is completely rudderless and that the seas have started roiling.

The pope, says a biographer who interviewed the pope’s brother, is losing sleep at night, sweating and tossing in bed as he thinks about the abuse scandals. The ordeal has ruined his health and wrecked his papacy. All he wanted was to retire, get the hell out of town, and go back to academia. He presented his resignation three or four times to John Paul II, and always the resignations were rejected.

Yeah? It may be true. It may also be that the pope is caught in a terrible time trap—he’s living in a world that no longer exists.

There was a time when the Catholic Church ruled—and no, it wasn’t as far back as the Middle Ages. Remember The Bells of St. Mary’s? It was a film from 1945 about a wonderful, dedicated, just a bit unconventional priest who fights to save his inner-city high school, assisted by that wonderful, dedicated, not-quite-so-unconventional Mother Superior. Bing Crosby played the priest, Ingrid Bergman the mother superior—and when Crosby sings the title song, surrounded by all the nuns in the immaculate wimples and veils, you’d better have at least fifty units of insulin in the syringe. It goes through sugary, and travels across saccharine and ends up, finally, nauseating.

The reality was different.

“We’d go to class all day, and then head down to the Gold Coast, where we saw most of our classmates and a lot of the faculty,” said a friend in Chicago, remembering his seminary days.

The Gold Coast was a gay bar.

And it was the seventies—times had changed, the cops were no longer raiding the bars, people were coming out and discovering an amazing truth: it was no big deal. Families got over it. The woman who 30 years ago would call from Puerto Rico wanting to speak to her son and refused to talk to me?

She was reading names on Plaza de Armas last Saturday, supporting a project of mine. And telling me she loved me and was proud of me.

Over fifty percent of the seminarians are gay, says Mark Dowd, himself a former Dominican friar. Here’s what he has to say about the subject:

Building on this, the lesbian writer on queer theology, Elizabeth Stuart, in a fascinating deconstruction of "liturgy queens", made the observation that in her experience it was more often than not the very closeted clergy who deployed an almost neurotic obsession with the size and length of the altar cloth and ecclesiastical protocol as "their own way of dealing with their demons". We have to be careful of a simplistic reductio ad absurdum here. Love of aesthetics in liturgy does not automatically prove anything about one's sexual orientation. But I think Stuart had a point.

Well, I think she had a point too. The more you suppress it, the more you get it, as a friend used to say.

The Catholic Church has always known it—some of it highest officials, including popes, have not been celibate. And no—we’re not talking Medieval Era, but the Modern Era.

Whatever or wherever Ratzinger’s sexuality is or isn’t, his temperament is intellectual and theoretical, not administrative and organizational. His was to be a teaching papacy, and the problem?

It was the last thing needed.