After the sex-abuse scandal: What lies ahead? Donald Cozzens.

Many hope that the worst of the sexual-abuse crisis is over. Frankly, I fear the worst is yet to come. Consider the battered church of Boston and the not-guilty plea entered on June 11 by accused priest Paul Shanley, who claims he was himself abused by a seminary professor and by a predecessor of his current archbishop. Shanley is likely to put up a strenuous defense, which will bring to light matters church officials would prefer remain in darkness. Should his case go to trial, Boston's current situation may erupt with a force yet to be imagined.

As prosecutors sift through mountains of diocesan and legal documents relating to clergy abuse and investigate new allegations, the focus has shifted from the church's jurisdiction to the jurisdiction of prosecutors and grand juries. Add to the criminal inquiries the long roster of civil cases now in the works, and there is scant reason for optimism.

What lies ahead? Catholics of all stripes are asking that question with an earnestness that has not dampened their anger. While the charter and norms established by the bishops in Dallas have prompted some to think the worst is over, church authorities continue to feel the weight of grave, unprecedented pastoral and legal challenges. How bishops and their staffs address these challenges--and to the extent they cooperate and collaborate with emerging lay leaders--will be of critical importance. Even more critical, however, will be the resolve of lay and priest leaders to step up and speak out to their bishops.

In the meantime, two contextual factors and four determining factors allow us a glimpse of the forces currently shaping and reshaping the U.S. church, and create the stage on which the present crisis plays itself out:

* The priest/bishop relationship. Since the bishops' Dallas meeting the already taxed relationship between bishops and their priests has been stressed to an unprecedented point. The zero-tolerance policy adapted in Dallas undercut the trust and confidence many priests had in their bishops. Now many priests feel it is every man for himself. Whether an allegation of abuse is credible or not seems no longer to matter. An imprudent pat on a teenager's behind decades ago may lead to suspension and place the priest under the same cloud as a brother cleric guilty of gross sexual assault.

This strained trust is undermining the morale of an already overworked and beleaguered priest corps. Estranged from their episcopal leaders, some priests persevere only because of the support they find from parishioners and friends. When the dramatic decline in the number of candidates for the priesthood is factored in, the threat to the sacramental mission of the church weighs heavily on today's ordained ministers.

At the same time bishops, alienated from the laity and now their priests, may soon feel that it is every bishop for himself.

* Angry Catholics. It is now painfully clear that the sexual-abuse scandal has drastically reduced the trust and confidence conservative, moderate, and progressive laypeople once placed in bishops. Moreover, a surprising unity is emerging--the laity's anger has galvanized previously disparate cohorts of Catholics into a force to be reckoned with. Only the naive believe that the actions taken in Dallas have restored the bishops' credibility.

The laity, in as painful a drama as one can imagine, have come of age. Their outrage at the bishops has finally corrected the exaggerated deference and unquestioning trust they once accorded episcopal leaders. How the bishops respond to groups like the Boston-based Voice of the Faithful will be critical. It appears that many bishops have yet to learn how to deal nondefensively with the grass-roots initiatives of one of the best-educated, articulate, and committed body of believers among the people of God.

The following factors have yet to emerge, at least completely. Some are factual, others attitudinal. They will, nonetheless, determine what lies beyond the horizon.

* The scope of the scandal. In spite of the ongoing media attention, the full extent of the scandal--the actual number of credible allegations brought to the attention of a diocese and/or to a legal jurisdiction--remains unclear. And while there are published estimates of the number of Catholic clergy who have abused children and teenagers, many dioceses have not made that information public. Until such disclosures are made, the real scope of the crisis will be questioned and discussion of the systemic dimensions of the crisis, such as the present clerical structure with its tradition of privilege, exemption, and secrecy, cannot take place.

When the scandal is framed to include adult victims of clergy abuse, especially women, it reveals a reality many church officials want desperately to conceal: mandated celibacy for diocesan clergy just isn't working.

Catholics, furthermore, have a right to know the cost of the scandal. The sum far exceeds, I believe, the amounts juries have awarded victims in highly publicized civil trials. The laity are entitled to know how much of their contributions (in both percentages and actual dollars) is going to the victims--and to treatment centers for clergy abusers. Such information is guarded, of course, because of fear that it will influence future financial awards and settlements.

* The courage of priests. How the crisis unfolds will depend to a large extent on the widespread realization among priests that the clerical system is broken. Whether priests possess the courage to stand together and organize, as they have in Boston, remains to be seen. The personal and pastoral experience of priests deserves to be taken seriously by bishops and laity alike. If the courage demonstrated by priests of Boston is emulated, priests, by "speaking their truth in love," will make a significant contribution to the strength and vitality of the church.

* The courage of bishops. With the death of Chicago's Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, the leadership vacuum in the U.S. hierarchy has become evident even to casual church watchers. Leaders there are, but to this date they haven't had a sufficient number of brother bishops to stand with them. The more the pity. Still, the U.S. bishops understand the nature of the crisis better than Vatican officials and other advisers to the pope. Most bishops, by temperament, disposition, and training, remain unduly sensitive to what holds sway in the halls of the Vatican. The result has been a shocking deference to various curial congregations in matters--such as inclusive language in liturgical texts--that rightfully belong to the discretion of local ordinaries. In times of crisis, leaders are needed who can inspire both clergy and laity. Few bishops, I am afraid, measure up to that standard.

* The next pope. In the twilight of John Paul II's long reign, the question of his successor's theological vision and capacity for leadership looms critical. Whomever the cardinals elect, the new pope will discover that the present scandal has carried over into his pontificate. Certainly, one of the major issues the next pope must address is the crisis in ministry, of which the sexual-abuse scandal is but one factor. Without priests, Catholics cannot have access to the Eucharist. The next pope's biggest internal challenge will be the issue of sacramental ministry.

Fears & hopes

The seeds of the future, like the reign of God, are to be found in our midst--in the here and now. However, reading these seeds, these signs, is never easy.

My fear is that the present scandal will become worse, even much worse, before it gets better. If the laity's anger turns to rage, if wise and prudent decisions by bishops and other church leaders are eclipsed by the rulings of prosecutors and court officials, if priests maintain their present unholy silence, then an even deeper darkness lies ahead.

And the present darkness is dark enough. The undeniable shortage of priests is beginning to undermine even our most vital and vibrant parishes while the alienation of priests from their bishops is sapping the energies of the best of the ordained. If the darkness holds, the silent but steady exodus of educated Catholic women from the church will continue and our young will slide, along with the rest of us, into an ever more secularized and violent society. Bishops will continue to speak, to insist, to demand; but few Catholics will listen, few will obey. The once-strong faith of American Catholics will diminish until the cynicism and apathy we now witness in the churches of Western Europe will be commonplace here.

But although the picture is dark, it is not without hope.

The laity may well step up and assume their birthright as full, adult members of the church. Here, I believe, under the abiding presence of God's Spirit, lies the hope of the future. No doubt their emerging voice and influence will threaten many bishops and priests and be perceived as a major threat to the hegemony of the institutional church. Laywomen and men, of course, like their ordained confreres, are both saints and sinners, subject to the same human weaknesses we now see so clearly in the hierarchy. They seem, nonetheless, to be anointed at this precarious juncture in the church's history to offer the leadership and vision so wanting in many episcopal and presbyteral circles.

They deserve to be heard, respected, and encouraged. I believe they are God's gift to a troubled church.

The Reverend Donald Cozzens teaches religious studies at John Carroll University in Cleveland, Ohio. He is the author of The Changing Face of the Priesthood: A Reflection on the Priest's Crisis of Soul (Liturgical Press) and the forthcoming Sacred Silence: Denial and the Crisis in the Church (Liturgical Press).