Zero tolerance? Taking another look.

Kenneth Lasch

A reluctant yes n As anticipated, media coverage of sexual abuse by clergy seems to be cresting, at least to some degree. However, the crisis remains one of tragic proportions and should receive the attention of church officials for the foreseeable future.

Priests who were identified, evaluated, and punished years ago are crying foul, calling the bishops' zero-tolerance policy flawed. Stories of priests who have confessed their crime and whose witness to virtue has been applauded firsthand by their congregations have left some Catholics disillusioned by the severity of the new policy within a church that preaches forgiveness as a gospel mandate. Moreover, citing a breach of their canonical right to due process, some priests are appealing to Rome. It already appears that, pending further word from the Vatican, some dioceses will in fact not implement a zero-tolerance policy in those cases in which there is no clear evidence that there was more than one offense.

On the other hand, victims and survivors of sexual abuse are as quick to cry foul in the face of this mounting opposition, stating that the very nature of this crime is such that one incident is unlikely. The lack of evidence and the testimony of the accused are not sufficient proof for them that it occurred only once. They may be correct.

The database to which I have been exposed over the last seventeen years in dealing with the issue head-on convinces me that the weight of evidence is on the side of victims. Though complex, the pattern of sexual offenders is clear. They convince their victims that they are the only ones to whom they have given special affection. This makes the victims unique and special. Moreover, despite the more open atmosphere created by the Boston disclosures, this "secret" remains a strong inhibitor, preventing many victims from revealing the incident for years, and for some, forever. The absence of public disclosure of even one incident results in the virtual denial of an opportunity for other victims of the same offender to know that there were other victims.

Victims need to have become survivors in order to speak out confidently on a platform of wellness, as it were. Until they are able to do so, they remain captive to their own protective wall of silence, as well as the wall built around them by authorities and authority figures. Negotiations designed to be opportunities for healing and reconciliation have become opportunities for intimidation by defense attorneys and the institutions that often protect offenders. Although such conversations should take place on a level playing field, in many cases the field has been far from level. This is a further inhibitor even for victims who feel they must speak up but are unable to do so.

Offenders are con artists and will leave no stone unturned to cover up their sexual crime or misconduct. They will lie and think that they are telling the truth. It is part of the illness. Psychiatrists and therapists can deal only with the data to which they are privy. If the offender tells them there was only one incident and there is no evidence to the contrary from other victims, the diagnosis and prognosis tend to favor the "reformed" offender, declaring him "safe" for ministry. I have not yet been exposed to psychological or psychiatric evidence or opinion to the contrary.

Even on the assumption that there may be situations in which offenders have indeed been guilty of one offense and experienced a subsequent metanoia, the prevailing sense among victims and people in the pew appears to support the consensus that offenders should never again be permitted to function in ministry. The act can never be undone; the damage to the victim is residual and permanent. Forgiveness does not automatically restore a victimizer's right to a position of trust. He forfeited that right by his act of degradation, which was in effect a total derogation of his office. This does not exclude the possibility that an aged or infirm priest will be cared for with minimum amenities and health protection.

Other cases of dated incidents may be less clear as a result of insufficient evidence. This situation works to the legal advantage of the alleged offender, as indeed it should--innocent until proved guilty. However, it does not mean the incidents did not take place. It means only that the evidence is insufficient. The situation is ambiguous at best for both the alleged offender and the alleged victim, but it remains a moral issue for the church.

Catholics are resilient but their mantra remains explicit: "There will be no healing without justice; no justice without truth; no truth without full accountability."

The Reverend Kenneth Lasch is the pastor of Saint Joseph's Church in Mendham, New Jersey.

Gerald D. Coleman

No n At their June meeting in Dallas, the bishops of the United States adopted a charter for the protection of children and young people, and a set of norms for dealing with allegations of sexual abuse of minors by priests, deacons, and other church personnel. The bishops' charter presents seventeen articles, and is followed by twelve norms. The articles outline provisions for the outreach to victims, the establishment of a review board in every diocese, and mandated reporting and cooperation with public authorities. They state that "even a single act of sexual abuse of a minor--past, present or future--will result in the permanent removal of a priest or deacon from his ministerial duties," which may include the request to Rome for the priest to be laicized, and call for the establishment of a national office for child and youth protection and other provisions such as careful screening of seminary candidates.

The norms outline the process to be followed if a credible allegation of sexual abuse of a minor is made against a priest or deacon. They repeat article 5 of the charter, specifying that such a priest will not be permitted "to celebrate Mass publicly, to wear clerical garb, or to present himself publicly as a priest."

Both the bishops' charter and norms deserve careful reflection. In an older liturgical time, the hymn Tu es sacerdos in aeternum ("You Are a Priest Forever") was frequently sung at priestly ordinations. Its words carried a solemn sense that from that day forward, the newly ordained priest would always be a priest. The promise bore two interlocking meanings: that the newly ordained priest was commissioned to celebrate the sacraments and visibly witness to priestly ministry; and that he was now configured to the person of Christ as priest, prophet, shepherd, and king. Thus, Vatican II's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy states that when a priest celebrates the sacraments, Christus adest (Christ is present).

Following the bishops' Dallas meeting, many dioceses across the United States witnessed the removal of priests from public ministry, a fact that not only called into question the permanence of priesthood as conferred in the sacrament of orders, but raised profound practical concerns for individual priests. The morale of priests across the country plummeted, not only because of the scandal but because the removals were so swift, and because there were no diocesan support mechanisms in place to assist the dismissed priests.

A second concern raised by the bishops' swift passage of their Dallas charter and norms was that the documents failed to distinguish the range of activities that count as sexual abuse. While sexual abuse is always reprehensible, its various manifestations do not necessarily have equal weight. Some distinction among the kind and number of sexual offenses should have been weighed, and the punishments made in accord with these factors.

Third, while the bishops may have regained some of their moral credibility by taking a definitive stand on sexual-abuse issues, the question must be raised whether they lost credibility in other ways. Even though the charter mentioned the sexual abuse of children by some bishops, it made no mention of bishops who knowingly moved offending priests from one assignment to another, creating a situation where the sexual abuse of children and young people was facilitated by their misguided judgments. These bishops should resign their ministry for the moral and spiritual good of the whole church. Their failure to do so has made their actions against offending priests seem like scapegoating.

Fourth, canon law (1341) states that if a penalty is adjudged, it must be imposed for three reasons: to repair scandal, to restore justice, and to reform the offender. This is a "healing" canon, and it demonstrates a level of fraternal correction that, in dealing with an offending priest, appears to be lacking in the norms set out in the bishops' charter. It would be well to remember here the words of John Paul II last April: "while recognizing how indispensable ... criteria are, we cannot forget the power of Christian conversion, that radical decision to turn away from sin and back to God, which reaches to the depths of a person's soul and can work extraordinary change."

The sexual abuse of minors by some priests and bishops has caused enormous pain and scandal. The nature of this abuse, and its complexity, can only be addressed by a careful process of discernment. The bishops' imposition of automatic penalties was not an adequate solution. Furthermore, it will likely create victims of another type: wrongfully accused priests summarily dismissed without due process. I hope that the Vatican's own review of the decisions taken at Dallas will provide useful pastoral guidelines on how better--and more adequately--to address the serious problem of offending priests. The steps taken so far by our bishops seem overly punitive and lacking in the due process owed to every priest.

Gerald D. Coleman, S.S., is the rector of Saint Patrick's Seminary in Menlo Park, California.