Chris Geraghty

Ok. That’s it. Time to stand up. The alarm has sounded. Rub the sleep from your eyes, take off your embroidered nightshirts, do a few stretches and let’s get moving. No shilly-shallying. No dilly-dallying. Come on, just do it. Get out of bed. There’s work to be done. And the whole family’s depending on you to get going. Grace Tame is calling you out. (more…)

Dear George,

More bad news. When will it cease? (more…)

The recent “conversation” as to whether faith-based schools should be permitted by law to discriminate against gay boys and girls, or against teachers who belong to the LGBT cohort, has resulted in a magnificent own-goal scored by so-called liberal conservative politicians and their ecclesiastical lobbyists. Another victory to the forces of evil! It’s so embarrassing to see just how out of touch some of our leaders, political and religious, have become. (more…)

After the Royal Commission in Child Sexual Abuse in Australia, the Irish child abuse commission 2009 on the other side of the world and the resignation of all the bishops in Chile, the Roman Catholic Church as we know it has received the last rites lying in periculo mortis in intensive care and is now on a respirator. The family has been notified, a plot has been purchased and the funeral director is on stand-by.  (more…)

It’s not a time for business as usual. It’s a time for outbursts of horror, for open-throated cries for justice – a time for sackcloth and ashes, for fasting and floggings of repentance – a time to cease celebrating, singing, canonizing and collecting money – a time to call a halt to ordinary business, to close the shop, to stop preaching and declare a time of silence during which the religious leaders will cover their celibate loins and prostrate themselves before the community – a time to embrace the victims and their wounded families. (more…)

 

After Bishop Bill Wright appeared on television to register his reaction to the findings of the special enquiry into the Church’s and the Police response to the paedophile activities of two priests in the Newcastle diocese, and to express his sorrow for the whole messy scandal, there was an inter-change of emails between two ex-priests – both have had a second career in the law, each with a family of his own and an abiding memory of what it was like to have been “eternally and ontologically” changed into a special and sacred person by the ordaining hands of his Archbishop – ex-priest Geraghty and ex-priest Marr.

First email.

Dear Chris,

I jotted down some thoughts after hearing Bishop Bill Wright say sorry.

I became really angry. Kieran is not helping me. (Kieran is the author of the recently published book “Potiphar’s Wife – The Vatican’s Secret and Child Sexual Abuse”, a copy of which Chris sent to his friend, Peter)

What are you sorry about Bill?

Sorry about what?

Sorry for the abuse and hurt.

Sorry about the scandal and publicity.

Sorry it will happen again.

Sorry you are a part of the organization.

Sorry the good done by the organization is outweighed by the evil.

Sorry the structure of the organization protects the abuser and promotes abuse.

Sorry you think you are special and special rules apply.

Sorry you can’t criticize the Vatican.

Sorry you took an oath.

Sorry you don’t speak out.

Sorry the organization misuses imaginary power against the vulnerable, which has nothing to do with the Gospel.

Sorry no one is listening to the organizations message except the vulnerable.

Sorry the organization has lost credibility and can no longer control what happens in the privacy of the bedroom.

Sorry the organization has been shown to be just a badly run human institution.

Sorry that Jesus is crying.

Sorry the organization thinks it stands above and separate from the civil community with its own rules and peculiar standards and code of law.

Sorry that you toe the line and blame the old and the dead.

Sorry you are forced to accept a party line of secrecy now and blame the past.

Sorry that the present is the problem and there is no fundamental change.

Sorry you can’t even get the line right, ”You are right; we are wrong, I am sorry.” Simple really.

Sorry that you are nothing more than a bureaucrat in a corrupt, deceptive, manipulative organisation.

 

Sorry – I don’t think so.

Stand up and shout your outrage.

Do you think I should send these thoughts to Bill. Will they be helpful.

Peter.

PS had to get it out.

The email in reply.

Dear Peter,

Are you demented? Unhinged, like Andrew Bolt? The older you get, the more uncontrollable you become. How does Linda cope?

Yes. Send it off. What have you to lose? You’ll feel better – and Bill will also feel good after the flagellation and humiliation. You are right, of course. In these circumstances, words can’t carry the message.

A year in sack-cloth and ashes for all the clergy, including the bishop;

Or a clergy pilgrimage on foot, fasting on bread and water, in loin-clothes, for forty days in the desert, abandoning all the parishes of the dioceses;

Or a public proclamation in the Cathedral in the presence of the assembled clergy and the victims (if willing to attend), their parents, relatives and friends, describing each of the offences, identifying each of the offenders, recording exactly what each of them did, and what was not done in response after the matter came to be known by those in charge, and recounting the damages suffered to each victim, followed by the closure of the Cathedral for a year and an invitation addressed to all Catholics of the diocese to consider abandoning their membership of the Church, or at least their financial contribution to their parish

Or proclaiming a Year of Shame for the whole Church and striking a bronze medal of

SHAME to be minted and supplied (free of charge) by the Vatican to all members of the Church throughout the world, to be worn in public at all Church services.

I hesitate, Peter, to recommend that the incumbent bishop of Newcastle should return to the good of days when the Church was significantly more pro active. In 897, at the Synoda Horrenda which was held in the Basilica Salvatoris (later to be rebuilt and known as St John Lateran’s) in Rome, Pope Steven VI disinterred the putrid corpse of his predecessor, Pope Formosus who had been dead for ten months, dressed the black body in full pontifical regalia, seated it on an episcopal chair and, in the presence of the assembled local bishops and parish priests, charged the deceased with heresy, tried him, found him guilty and excommunicated him, post mortem. The cadaver was then stripped of the pontifical robes, its two blessing fingers of the right hand were severed and, dressed in a penitential hair-shirt it was re-buried in un-consecrated ground. Not very subtle, you’ll agree – some might think a little macabre, but the message was clear and, as you would appreciate being a lawyer, justice was seen to be done.

I am reluctant to suggest that the corrupt bodies of  John Toohey or Leo Clarke (both bishops of Newcastle diocese during the relevant period, from 1956 and 1995) should be given the same treatment, if only because a week or two after the famous synod summoned by Pope Steven, a minor earthquake shook the Basilica Salvatoris to its foundations, causing destruction from the high altar all the way down to the entrance doors, or as you would understand, Peter, being a member of the old brigade, having been taught Latin as a pre-requisite to your ordination, “ab altare ad portas”.

Even though the trial of Pope Formosus might have been a touch extreme, in the name of Jesus and its faithful members, to say nothing of the victims and their families, the Church has to devise a radical, dramatic and appropriate response to the many breaches of solemn trust by members of the clergy and in response to the institutional cover-up.  As you see Peter, I’m struggling to find a language which could, however inadequately, express the outrage, the scandal, the seriousness, the pain and anger of the community as a whole, of mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, those of faith and unbelievers, and especially of the ones who experienced the dirty hands and listened to the foul words of the Church’s consecrated and predatory priests. The institution cannot simply pretend that it has dealt with the problem and “ looking forward” (as they say), move on. The Church should not be allowed to conduct its business as usual, making saints, staging extravagant, Byzantine ceremonies, dressing up in fine vestments, collecting money and telling the world how to conduct itself – perhaps it won’t be for some centuries.

Send it.

Brother Geraghty.

Peter Marr, solicitor, replied by telephone to say that he knew Bishop Bill Wright and that he was a decent human being, but unable to come to terms with the depth and breadth of the catastrophe which confronts him in his diocese, to communicate to the world and to his people, the horror and diabolical treachery visited on the diocese by the criminal offenders and by those who were responsible for dealing with it. The whole sorry mess is beyond him, beyond his brother bishops and certainly beyond the imagination of the Vatican.

 

 

A few weeks ago the Roman Church gathered its heavenly forces, summoned her faithful from around the world to assemble in the eternal city, and in the midst of extravagant Renaissance-style splendor, infallibly declared two of her recent CEOs to have been translated into the presence of Almighty God, amid hosts of angels and Archangels on high. Pope John XXIII and Pope John Paul II were enrolled in the official canon of saints by Pope Francis, in the presence of his predecessor Pope Benedict and a gaggle of episcopal turkeys. Business as usual in Rome. Crazy triumphal ceremonial. A vial of papal blood in one reliquary, a sliver of Pope’s skin in the other. You have to admit that in view of what was happening down in the dungeons under the Vatican and the scandals unraveling in parishes and schools, the Roman Church was exhibiting a high degree of religious chutzpah. To engage in such a public display, she had to have real balls – and no brains. CEOs giving each other a brotherly leg-up, encouraging pats on the back, colorful ribbons, medals and badges, while in hot-spots throughout the world the company was coughing up blood.

In 2002, in a fit of self-aggrandizement for such a tiny kingdom with no midwives to call on and no entitlement to middle class paid parental leave (in fact, no middle class), the Vatican signed a United Nations convention which sought to prevent the practice of torture and to suppress all forms of cruel, inhuman and degrading punishment. Little did Rome imagine that this convention would come back to bite her on the bottom. When the Holy See recently made its very first appearance before the Torture Committee of the United Nations, its ambassador in Geneva, Archbishop Silvano Tomasi, under attack for the Vatican’s pathetic attempts to draw a line under clerical sexual abuse scandals throughout the world, asserted that its jurisdiction to enforce the United Nations treaty provisions stopped at the borders of the eternal city state. Pure nonsense. Specious casuistry. Moral gobbledygook. It was disingenuous, even dishonest for the Vatican to run such a line in an attempt to get out from under its involvement in the worldwide, damaging scandal caused by its ordained officers inflicting torture on innocent children. In Potiphar’s Wife, the author, Kieran Tapsell, a retired lawyer, an old ex-seminarian from Manly and a good friend, tells us why the Vatican cannot escape its responsibility.

Like the Roman poet Virgil who guided Dante through the sultry passages of Hell, Kieran Tapsell takes the hand of his reader and walking backwards, carefully guiding her through the subterranean tunnels under the Vatican, explaining the turns and twists of the Pope’s peculiar legal system, introducing her to the many faceless men in studded cloaks, in coloured frocks and high hats he and his reader meet along the way. Damp, smelly corridors. Shadowy figures, wrinkled and suspicious. The smell of decay in the air. “That’s a pile of detritus over there, blocking our progress.” “An endless maze of obfuscation begins down that laneway where the sewers are overflowing and a collection of canonical garbage bins remain unemptied.” “Those guys we just passed, with their self-satisfied, piogeous smiles, used to work as ecclesiastical spin-doctors for the Vatican, sometimes referred to as ”safe, reactionary theologians”. Did you notice the thinness of their lips and the fork in their tongues?”  “In this section, we’re surrounded with secret trap-doors and hidden holes.”  “But don’t be afraid. With the help of a Royal Commissioner, we are gradually making our way towards the light.”  As your guide will demonstrate, O reader, the pathway through this under-world has been perilous.

With forensic attention, Tapsell traces the Vatican’s responses to the unexpected and faith- shattering revelations of the contamination by predatory priests of the Church’s precious little ones. The way the Roman authorities decided to deal with the scandal caused by paedophile priests changed radically at the beginning of the 20^th century. In 1917, with the publication of a codified system of law, Rome abandoned its traditional practice of handing the guilty offender over to the civil authority for punishment. With the stroke of a Latin quill, the new code abandoned the relevant provisions which had been operative for centuries. Then in 1922, with the “publication” of a secret document, Crimen Sollicitationis, Pius XI effectively revived, through the back-door of secrecy, the ancient privilege which provided special treatment for his clerical brothers. Members of the modern clergy who indulged in criminal behavior were to be investigated, charged, tired and punished by the Church’s own ecclesiastical tribunals – and in secret. Those who failed to comply with the Vatican’s order to remain shtum, were to be punished by a very special and terrifying excommunication which could be lifted only by the Pope himself. And the Vatican document which had promulgated this parallel regime had to be kept safe and out of sight in the secret archives of the diocesan curia, for internal use only. A secret law! Secret legal procedures! Just what every institution needs to protect itself and its staff. Ecclesiastical “on–water” events were off limit, beyond scrutiny – and especially beyond the reach of any civil authority.

When the Pope reads this book of Kieran Tapsell, I am hoping he will be shaken to his bowels to think how far his beloved Church has drifted away from Jesus. When Jesus picks it up in the celestial book-shop and turns the pages, I imagine tears of sadness will appear on his bloodless cheeks. The Royal Commissioner might be surprised to find how far the tentacles of this dirty cancer of secrecy and clerical privilege extended, and how tightly they were wrapped around the panting heart of Rome.

When you read this book, some of you won’t be able to put it down. Fascinating. Engrossing. Some will want to burn it – and the author. Others will simply say “I told you so” – and so they did. Some won’t believe a word of it. Just another conspiracy – like the ugly rumours of man-induced climate change. “I don’t care what thousands of scientists say, I don’t care what the evidence is, I don’t accept it – and that’s my right.” What Tapsell has to reveal is confronting and explosive. Rome has played a part, a major part, in the protection of dangerous criminal clerics, and in the cover-up of their predatory pursuit of innocent boys and girls. The Vatican enabled the cancer to grow and spread, more damage to be done, and more lives ruined. The wicked blindness, the clerical stupidity, the incompetence, the arrogance and dishonesty are breathtaking.

In this book,  the author unravels the story of Vatican policy of secrecy from 1922 – a story which some might say amounted to national disloyalty, to criminal omission and conspiracy,  a story of official double-speak, of blame-shifting, power-plays and petty jealousies. The Vatican promulgated and continued to enforce laws which would undermine the fabric of the communities and the State, and while protecting its own reputation and its priests, which would inevitably cause maximum heartache within families.  Explosive devices encased in canonical terminology and manufactured in Rome, to be detonated in homes and in local communities throughout the world.

Potiphar’s Wife is a good read, but disturbing. The author goes a long way to explaining why the Catholic Church has dealt so badly with the scandal of paedophile priests in its ranks and why the Royal Commission, in responding to its terms of reference, can’t avoid making a series of trenchant findings involving the Vatican, and perhaps some recommendations to assist her in the process of putting its haunted house in order.

Sydney is vacant again, and many of the faithful are breathing a huge sigh of relief, though at the back of our minds lurks a suspicion mixed with fear that we will be saddled, for a long time to come, with a little repellent clone of the great man.

George is off to Rome – where he belongs. It’s a move long overdue. Some years ago, perhaps in anticipation of this journey, he built a home for himself close to the Vatican – a suite of rooms in Casa Australiana just waiting for him to appear with his baggage. Rumors have abounded for some years of his imminent appointment to some job or other over there. Now as head of the Vatican Finance Department, a supranational Hockey Joe, he can do little harm, and maybe he can do some good for humanity, for the Church.

But this is not the change the Vatican needed and the faithful have been crying out for.  This is only a medium force shake up. A mere rumble. The world has been waiting for, the faithful have been praying for the sound of the heavy, tectonic plates grinding and shifting under the chair of Peter. Hopefully there is more, much more, to come.

George is too old, too clerical and the wrong sex. The Pope does not need a Cardinal of advanced years or even an ordained priest to do the work involved. Someone younger, someone more experienced, more worldly, with a proven record of transparency and openness – ideally, a woman from the world of banking and finance – to bring the Vatican financial crisis out of the shadows into the modern world. This is an opportunity missed. Jobs for the boys – for the old boys. More of the same and we had been hoping for a sign to give us hope, to bring a smile to our face and put a spring in our step. A smile – yes – but for a completely different reason.

But it could have been worse. At least George has the necessary personality, if not all the credentials to do the job. He’s proved himself to be reasonably good administrator. Not so good a pastor or a leader of men. Not a man with a natural ability to choose the right man for a job. Sydney and Australia have suffered from his choices to fill episcopal positions. Some of the shoulders he has placed his hand upon have belonged to company men with limited capacities. And the most senior prelate in Australia, together with the team he has captained, has proven himself unable to provide strong moral leadership and guidance to the nation. They have all remained inexplicably mute, and in the face of constant provocation. They have not contributed in any significantly way to a national debate on critical moral issues such as the cruel and inhuman treatment of refugees by both major political parties, the tragedy of the dispossession of Aboriginals, the neglect of the growing psychiatric illness in general and particularly among Australia’s young (a national scandal), the secrecy in government, the bad behaviour of politicians in the Parliament itself, bullying in schools and in the workplace, even among politicians, the drinking and drug culture, a policy of preference for the poor and underprivileged, working poor, the obscene expansion of the rich class land an uneven distribution of wealth, the crass and unprincipled materialism of many government policies, a search for happiness, the inadequacy of our overseas relief  contributions – the list is long.

While in Sydney, the Cardinal was energetic in defending dogmatic utterances of the Church, the authority of Rome and the integrity of a monolithic Church, condemning abortion and homosexuality, but he did not prove to be an effective, attractive religious or moral leader.  Too churchy. Too reactionary. Too authoritarian. An eminent friend of the establishment. Too close to money and to power.

But most people would agree that George can get things done. He’s determined. He’s decisive. No shilly-shallying. Somewhat heavy-handed. And by reputation, he can bully with the best. Maybe he will be able to uncover corruption in the ranks and execute some clerical thugs. I don’t expect, on Rome’s past record, that these men (I presume they are all men, like they are in New South Wales) will be given a fair hearing in open court with their name spread about on the front pages of Osservatore Romano.

Perhaps he could have done much damage in other portfolios – choosing bishops for the world, conducting show-trials of dissident theologians, putting American nuns on the rack – but in this portfolio, so far away from the message and spirit of Jesus, George might shine. Let us hope so.

And now, closer to home – with the See of Sydney vacant. The last time, the position was filled in the dead of night, without consultation. A fait accompli. The faithful of the Sydney archdiocese woke up in the morning and found that God had given them George. They were not happy and some of them have not forgotten. Now that is history and we have to get over it. Nevertheless, Rome did treat us badly, without respect, high-handedly.

Now let the new process begin. We know what Pope Francis is looking for in a bishop – someone close to the people. A pastor who has the whiff of sheep on hardened hands, sheep droppings between his toes, the oily feel of wool embedded in his clothes. Someone who hears the bleating and knows his sheep by name, who will spend the night in the cold mountains in search of the lost one. Happy. Humorous. Intelligent. Outgoing and outspoken. A true believer, deeply spiritual. With an interest in the world, in literature, poetry, drama or music – it doesn’t matter, but someone who is not enclosed in a clerical club, looking for the first place at the tables of the rich. These men are not easy to find. You have to look far and wide. But the people of Sydney can help Pope Francis find the right man. The gene pool is ridiculously limited, to men, to old men, to clerical men. But some have escaped the mould and grown against the grain, into real people who can lead us out of the desert, refresh us, create a world of the Spirit and make us proud again to be recognized as Catholics. I am sure many Catholics, men and women, young and old, stand ready to lend a hand.

This is the best effort at an apology so far and “the leaders of the Catholic Church in Australia” are to be congratulated, finally. They have been dragged, fighting and squealing, to their knees, no, to their bellies, but eventually a thorough and unqualified commitment statement has been published and read to the faithful at every parish Mass on Sunday 24 November. I heard it and it produced a great sigh of relief in me and in those united in prayer with me. The sadness, the horror, the anger, the shame have been all pervasive, like a fog low over the landscape. They have hovered there in my heart, in my mind for the past few years, and the scandal continues to besmirch my image of Christ’s immaculate bride. But at last, some acceptance, some unqualified response, some expression of guilt, of humility, of understanding. The Justice and Truth Commission under the guidance of Francis Sullivan, as well as the bishops and senior clergy of Australia are to be congratulated. At last they have got something right.

They have stated clearly, and without blaming the secular press, alienated Catholics, money-grubbing victims or their faith-less and hostile opponents, that –

• Sexual abuse of a child by a priest is a crime.
• Sexual abuse of a child by any Church personnel is indefensible.
• Sexual abuse by priests or anyone associated with the Church is a fact of which the whole Church in Australia is deeply ashamed.
• The Church fully and unreservedly acknowledges the devastating, deep and ongoing impact of sexual abuse on the lives of victims and their families, and further acknowledges that many victims were not believed when they were telling the truth.
• The Church also acknowledges that, in some cases, those in authority concealed and covered up what they knew to be true, moved perpetrators to another place and enabled them to continue offending, or failed to report the allegations to the police. This behaviour is indefensible.
• The Church was too anxious to protect her reputation and the reputation of her priests and her other personnel rather than protect its children and their families. This behaviour is also inexcusable.
• The Church leaders betrayed the trust of their own people and the expectations of the whole community.

The leaders of the Church went on to express their deep sorrow for this whole dirty mess and to apologise to all those who have been harmed and betrayed. They committed themselves to repair the wrongs suffered.

In any other organization, the leaders would be submitting their letters of resignation; the authorities who appointed them (and without any real consultation) would be demanding their resignation, except that Rome and the Vatican were themselves deeply implicated in the whole smelly catastrophe. And in any company, business, government agency or secular institution, from the United Nations Organization to a local university or school, the shareholders, the members, the foot-soldiers would be holding protest meetings, calling out for heads to roll, or just walking away in disgust. These leaders are asking for forgiveness and a vote of confidence in the board. Well, let’s wait and see.

The problem is that most, if not all, of those in the firing-line, are dead, or at least comfortably retired – beyond the reach of the troops. Nevertheless, there are steps which can be taken to restore some confidence in the shareholders.

There has to be a better method for the selection of the bishops and clergy who minister in our dioceses and parishes; and they have to be better educated.

The selection process has to be much more transparent; the criteria for assessment spelt out clearly – and if the list of Episcopal requirements includes an oath of unquestioning loyalty to the Vatican, let it be spelt out for all to see; a panel of assessors has to be established within the diocese and in each parish, including a solid reinforcement of ordinary, local men and women to give their opinion and make their contribution.  Appointments from on high are not good enough. Recent experience has shown them to be somewhere on a spectrum between lame and calamitous.

Then, after a proper selection process, there has to be a school for new bishops and parish priests, some kind of formal education process to ensure the candidate is sensible to and aware of community needs and expectations, aware of their obligations to society in general, to the poor, to children, to the Christian community, free from an over-riding loyalty and subservience to Rome.

In the meantime, as well as congratulating the leaders of the Church for their act of sorrow and sincere purpose of amendment, let’s all offer a sincere word of profound gratitude to –

• The brave victims of sexual abuse who told their stories, exposed their broken lives and who were so often met with disbelief, with a cold shoulder.
• Bishop Geoff Robinson whose life as a human being and as a priest has been made miserable by many of his brother bishops who opposed his message and resisted the bleeding obvious for so long.
• The energetic faceless ones who persisted in exposing the scandals on the website of Broken Rites.
• The members of the secular press, of those who worked on various ABC programs and members of other television teams. David Marr deserves a special vote of thanks for his consistent and high-quality work, and Joanne McCarthy, the Newcastle journalist, for her commitment to the cause.
• Deirdre Grusovin – remember her and the shellacking she received?
• Julia Gillard for establishing the Royal Commission and Tony Abbott for supporting her.
• Those responsible for establishing the Victorian Parliamentary Enquiry and the members of the parliament who presided at the hearings and prepared such a powerful report.
• A special vote of gratitude to Peter Fox of Newcastle of whom it was said that he involved himself too personally in the pedophile crisis in and around Newcastle and became entangled in the mess. If it were so, pity the bishops and clergy did not become personally involved years, decades before the valiant Peter Fox. It was he and Joanne McCarthy who almost single-handedly exposed the disease and lanced the boil. Thank you Peter Fox. Well done.

In Bob We Trust begins with Father Bob’s potted version of the history of the Roman Catholic Church. Five minutes of fun and irreverent theology. Over two thousand years passing in the blink of an eye.  Then Father Bob, assisted by his sinister chess opponent, John Safron in the guise of the Devil, gets down to more serious business – an old priest’s herculean struggle with an ecclesiastical dragon in Melbourne – the iron institution led by Archbishop Denis Hart and his mob. The story is a hoot.

The Father Bob in whom we trust is a bit mad – but so are John Safron and Denis Hart. In fact most of the characters in the film, with the exception of a few faithful canine companions, are at least a little off the planet. But unlike Hart, who is endowed with the shape and gravitas of a Renaissance prelate, Bob is also a little touched in a special way – touched by the Spirit of God, touched by the message of the Jesus Gospel, with compassion for the poor, the smelly, the homeless, the unwashed and underprivileged. Father Bob had been running the parish of South Melbourne for nearly forty years, opening the church doors every morning, closing them at night, greeting all comers, welcoming the dwarfs, feeding the hungry, but the Archdiocese uptown wanted to get rid of him, the sooner the better, hopefully without any fuss. An embarrassment. A trouble-maker. He was making them look ridiculous. So he was “invited to retire” despite the fact that he was in rude health and there was a serious pastoral crisis caused by a dramatic fall-away of vocations to the priesthood. Pressure was applied. Questions were asked of Father Bob at the Cathedral touching the very heart of the Gospel message. The book-keepers suspected maladministration. Father Bob’s pastoral shadow, his black poodle, was probably being fed off the parish account. Wasting church funds. The Cathedral’s Captain Queeg was on the trail of a clerical mutineer.

This movie is funny, sometimes very funny, so you’ll need to take your laughing gear along to the cinema with you. It is also challenging, even confronting, especially for any practising Catholic. It captures the conflict at the heart of modern Christian institutions – the struggle between property and power, money and influence, pomp and circumstance on the one hand, and a glorious message of service, inclusion and love, especially to the poor and downtrodden. But my overall reaction was one of profound sadness. How blind and stupid those at the controls can be!

Father Bob was obviously a good man doing a good job for his Church in the parish of South Melbourne. The people loved him. His life and mission were transparently, obviously allied to the Gospel and to Jesus. He was a Melbourne, perhaps even a national, identity in a way Archbishop Hart was not, and could never be. He was a priest all Catholics could be proud of. He was the best of us. So why close him down? Why cut off his arms and legs, and take him out of circulation? It was silly, in anyone’s language – just stupid. He provided an opportunity to focus the community’s mind on the values of the Gospel and on the real work of the institution. At the very least, he could have continued his work as a parish priest emeritus, a consultant, gradually training, educating others, handing over to them, watching his work thrive. But no – a rare opportunity lost. Let the faceless ones work until they drop, but for heaven’s sake, let’s get rid of this one.

Archbishop Hart’s mentor and powerbroker had done the same when he had arrived in Sydney, fresh and uninvited from Melbourne.

Like a craggy, crazy prophet, Father Ted Kennedy had worked wonders in his parish. He had transformed his Redfern presbytery into a drop-in centre for Aboriginal people from the city, from the country areas of New South Wales and around Australia. Everyone was welcomed. He had lived and shared with his black brothers and sisters, baptized and buried them, welcomed those in trouble, visited them in prison, nursed their babies, put his arms around them and loved them. The parish looked unkempt but it was in truth a centre of excellence. It had huge potential to project the image of a different world to Sydneysiders at large. A constant reminder of what we could be, of our better selves. The Redfern community only needed someone with Christian eyes to see what they were doing, to encourage them, to give them space, to continue Father Ted’s work after a stroke had crushed him. But no. Another rare opportunity wasted. Captain Queeg’s work is never complete. George Pell could have been the toast of the town, a champion of the poor in tinsel city, a visionary, a new Dan Mannix-type for the aboriginal people of Sydney and Australia. Instead, the narrow-minded, ultra-conservative, anal retentive and culturally foreign Neo-Cats took over, with a mission to destroy all that Father Ted had done with thirty years of his life and more. A tragedy. An opportunity missed again, and the Church is suffering.

When will they ever learn to trust the Spirit, to trust the people, to trust Father Bob?

Of course, they are only institutional men, elected to office by the organization because they possess the qualities valued by the organization – obedience, loyalty, submission. Trained team players who will not rock the boat.

But the good news is that the team has a new coach who wants to play the game in a different way. A new style. Playing on the front foot. More panache. More risks. Playing to win and even though they are rare, using our gifted players. Bob and Ted, living and working today, would be Pope Francis’s strikers playing till they drop, while Denis and George, playing at their present standard, should be on the bench or in the stands.

 

 

I watched Cardinal George Pell give his evidence to the Victorian Parliamentary Committee on Monday and thought that he was fortunate to be questioned across the polished table by a team of amateur interrogators. The members of the committee were, for my taste, too respectful, and far too thankful for the inadequate information he was providing. He will not be treated so softly, so kindly by counsel assisting the Royal Commission. We should prepare ourselves for a longer and more equal contest when the trained, heavy-weight inquisitors put the Archbishop of Sydney on the rack.

I thought His Eminence’s form had improved somewhat, though admittedly he was coming off a troubling slump. He was visibly less aggressive. His trainers had persuaded him to surrender his bullying, bulldozing tactics and to eat a few crumbs of humble pie. He was more defensive in the ring, less assertive in the clinches, an old warrior who had grown weary of the fight, who was prepared to suffer a few body blows without complaint.

After watching the contest for four hours and more, I began to feel a little sorry for the main contestant. He was old and stooped. He’d been fighting in this ring for eighteen years and more, diverting blows, defending his corner, but now ready to concede, reluctantly. He had slowed down. The mind was not as sharp. The words did not flow fluently. Sad to sit and watch from the front stalls an old warrior in the ring, under lights, up against a tag-team of amateurs slowly gaining the upper-hand, as the champion gradually lost his strength and was forced to face the inevitable. A beast of the forest being eaten alive by an army of ants.

I was interested to hear the Cardinal speak of his meeting with Premier Jeff Kennett (“You clean up the mess, or I’ll do it for you.”) and I was amused when he compared his own personality to that of the Premier’s. “We’re similar in personality”. I assumed he sees himself as a can-do, barge through, take no prisoners type of guy – direct, blunt, no-holds-barred, bereft of delicatesse, hard-nosed, thick-skinned, but able to save the Church from moral bankruptcy and to produce results. Certainly that’s how he comes across in the public domain – and unable to project compassion and empathy. He said he was sorry, “absolutely sorry”, and I have no reason to doubt his sincerity. Of course he’s sorry. The Church stands naked in the marketplace. The victims are suffering, and shouting their pain from the ramparts. Clergy are in prison. The faithful are scandalized. Newspapers are selling. The Vatican protective fire-wall has been breached. Money is flowing out of the coffers. The clergy are ashamed. The dead are being blamed. Jesus is crying and the powers of evil are rejoicing. Of course, he’s sorry. But the poor man was incapable of showing his sorrow, of displaying his inner feelings on his grey face, in his body-language. His words and presentation were wooden rather than warm; formal, official rather than heart-felt. George was condemned to wear the drab guise of his official office and to project the image of a distant bureaucrat. I felt the pain of a man condemned to observe that whatever about his style, compassion is best expressed by action. And I was left wondering – what action?

I was sorry the Cardinal did not accept the challenges offered to him (albeit ineptly) – to explore the reasons for the problem of pedophilia in the Church; to explain the destructive force of clericalism; to spell out the central role of the Vatican, the Pope and Canon Law in the regime of covering up pedophilia and protecting the offending priests; to admit the central role of Cardinal Joseph Aloisius Ratzinger in the process as the President of the Congregation for  the Doctrine of the Faith, and his failure to resign his post if his advice was not being heeded by his superior; to confront the fact that while the offenders were being looked after, the victims and their families were, for a long time, ignored; to report the fatal Vatican conflict between the Congregation for the Clergy headed by the Columbian, Cardinal Dario Hoyos Castrillon and the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith headed by Ratzinger as they struggled in their ivory towers for control over child sex abuse among the clergy. Why does Rome take so long to do anything, and is so ham-fisted in the process?

There was much to be discussed in Melbourne last Monday. Pity the opportunity was missed. But the proceedings were only a prelude to the main event being choreographed by the Royal Commission. Fasten your seatbelts for the turbulence up ahead. For me, Cardinal Pell presented as a sad figure in Melbourne on Monday. I felt sorry for the man. But I felt far more sympathy for the Fosters and for the other, many victims of abuse.

Chris Geraghty

 

 

 

 

If you are a pious, conservative member of the Catholic Church, stay away from any movie theatre showing the documentary Mea Maxima Culpa. You will be exposed to scenes of diabolical evil, revolting details of lives destroyed, to corruption, institutional ineptitude, chronic, sinful delay, ignorance, injustice and a disturbing misuse, no, an abuse of power – all in the name of Jesus. If you are a loyal member of the institution, a little person with a simple, delicate faith who wants to believe the best of those you call “Father”, “Your Grace”, “Your Eminence”, protect yourself from the agony of knowledge, cover your face, clench your fists and pretend that the characters of this documentary never existed.

 

Mea Maxima Culpa – Silence in the House of God was directed by Alex Gibney and, in this 1 hour and 46 minutes documentary, he exposes the sexual abuse of little deaf boys who could not speak, by a clerical predator in the diocese of Milwaukee, and it records the lifelong battle of four of these boys to be heard, to be dealt with compassionately and justly. It is an horrific story interlaced with vignettes involving other priests, archbishops, cardinals, popes, and serial offenders from Ireland and Italy. We learn the dirty details surrounding the life of the Vatican darling, Marcial Marciel Degollado who founded the Legionaries of Christ, a friend of Pope John Paul II, a close associate of the powerful Cardinal Angelo Sodano, a gold-carded donor to the Vatican coffers, a serial pedophile abuser of his seminarians and even of his own illegitimate children. We meet Father Tony Walsh, a singing priest in Dublin who could entertain incredulous fans with his impersonation of The King, and who, among a large field of competitors, won the reputation of being the most notorious clerical pedophile in Ireland. We watch, with mouth agog, as his bishop, the effete Archbishop Connell, tells us that he was too busy, with too much to do, to follow up complaints about Father Walsh. We witness Marcial Marciel’s friend, the silly angelic Cardinal Sodano, advise the pope in solemn ceremony, not to concern himself about “the  petty gossip “ circling the world, involving clerical pedophilia and the quality of the Vatican’s response.

 

But the documentary focuses its attention on Father Murphy. He was for almost twenty-five years, from 1950 to 1974, and in the face of serious complaints of criminal behaviour, in charge of a boarding school of little boys who were all profoundly deaf. He had been blessed with the special gift of communicating with his charges by sign language. Over the years, he selected his sexual victims carefully, making sure that he assaulted and raped those boys whose parents could not use sign language and therefore could not communicate effectively with their own sons. He was a monster. You will need a strong stomach and an unshakeable faith to endure this documentary to its conclusion. It is a powerful and damning indictment on the hierarchy, the clerical club and the Vatican. Watching the victims expressing their primeval, gut emotions through their eyes and hands was for me a transforming experience, beyond the world of written or spoken words. The images these men created were overwhelming.

 

I came away with a feeling of profound shame at the depth to which consecrated men could descend; a sense of anger at the mafia sub-culture of God’s shepherds; a sense of horror at the thought of what young, innocent, vulnerable boys had to endure, and of the raw wounds they had borne throughout their lives; and a sense of wonder and admiration at the courage and determination profoundly deaf men have brought to their fight for justice and recognition. These isolated men put us all to shame. While ever people like them are alive and demanding to be heard, the Church and her illustrious message will never die. The cardinals, the archbishops and monsignors of the Church do not give us hope for the future. They must know that they have dropped the ball. Their credibility is in ruins. But these wounded men with their thirst for justice and their amazing, powerful and explosive sign language, and the ordinary, angry, scandalized little people of the local churches are the hope of things to come.

 

 

 

 

The signs are hopeful, but the challenges are herculean.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio is a good, simple man. As Cardinal Archbishop of Buenos Aires he used to cook his own meals and catch the bus to work with the other workers. These are good signs. His feet are on the ground, his toes in the dirt and his mind in the street. We can expect him to turn his back on Renaissance dress and Byzantine ceremonial, to take off the red shoes and cast aside the ermine and feathers, and return to the values of the Gospel – to simplicity, a marked preference for the poor and downtrodden, to justice for all, to healing and to a loving freedom from the harshness of the law. Francis I may even prove a force hostile to Wall Street, to the extravagances of greed and extreme capitalism, to corruption inside and outside the Vatican, and a champion of the fair-go for all.

But the challenges are serious and the forces lined up against him are strong and entrenched. He will need to take an axe to the Vatican bureaucracy. The Curia will dig in as they did against Pope John XXIII and against the visionary programme the bishops of the world initiated at the Second Vatican Council. He should not underestimate the power of passive resistance and of the fiefdoms in Rome hidden under the cloak of clerical service to the Church.

This new Pope will have to seek to restore the tainted credibility of a Church which has long resisted the values and processes of the modern world – accountability, openness, freedom, individual conscience, democracy and the breath-taking contribution of the sciences. This Church’s mind has been twisted out of shape over the years, particularly on issues of human sexuality, by some forms of pagan philosophy, by Gnostic teachings which have gained a foot-hold at various stages of her development, by the pessimism of Augustine as his teaching gained purchase down the centuries. The leaders of the Church have systematically railed against the French Revolution and the Enlightenment, preferring to support the ancient regimes, reactionary monarchs, dictators and repressive regimes. Once he has settled into the fisherman’s chair, Francis I will have to kick-start this huge institution. He will have to listen carefully to the world, step down into the marketplace and communicate with modern men and women in a common language.

Many consider that the pedophilia scandal among the clergy will be the principal problem facing the new Pope. It is undeniably of major and immediate concern, a leprous disease eating into the flesh of the institution. Tough decisions will have to be made, but this is only one of many critical problems Francis will have to confront.

Perhaps the most radical challenge to face the modern Church is to devise some way of involving women in its life and making them visible among the ranks of the hierarchical structure. Women have been treated disgracefully for centuries, both by the secular society and by the Church. While the world has changed and is changing, the Church has remained frozen in the past, and now this is a matter of justice. Women are not inferior to men. Their appearance on the earth was not a  tragic mistake. They are not less intelligent than men, or more prone to sin, of less worthy, or the source of evil in the world. Church leaders, men as well known as Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Albert the Great, Tertullian, John Chrysostom and some Popes have spoken ill of women over the centuries and treated them with disdain. This has to stop. For the survival of the institution and in the name of justice, women have to become visible and powerful in the Church, whatever the cost to privilege and private power structures.

While gathering the courage to involve women in the sacramental processes of forgiveness or marriage or anointing, in the full celebration of the Eucharistic mysteries, there are steps which can be taken without delay. The community and the Vatican can appoint women to positions of real authority in the Roman congregations, in diocesan, international and national bodies. There is no reason why cardinals have to be ordained as priests or consecrated as bishops. At least half the College of Cardinals should be women (and some young women), and available to advise the Pope and to elect the next one. Rome has to develop and announce as quickly as possible a radical policy of the position of women in its super-clerical and excluding masculine world.

There is much to be done. The man chosen carries a heavy burden. The result of the conclave could have been considerably worse and, given the limited field of candidates, could hardly have been better. We wish him well.

Chris Geragthy

It’s frightening, isn’t it? I saw Cardinal George Pell on television recently claiming that his election to the top job was not impossible. He explained that because he’s a Catholic, a bishop, and a member of the College of Cardinals, he was a chance. Is that all one needs to be pope?

The applicants for the biggest job on earth are gathering in the Vatican to be assessed, to go through their interviews, to do some politicking and count the numbers. The successful candidate must of course be a member of the masculine branch of the human race. Being a paid-up member of the episcopal workers’ union and therefore both ordained as a priest and consecrated as a bishop, he must not be of illegimate birth, disabled physically or intellectually, or deformed, or suffering epilepsy whether caused by some form of insanity or by possession of the devil (Canons 983-987 of the 1917 Code of Canon Law). Slaves and soldiers are also ineligible, though Julius II proved to be a fierce warrior during his reign.

The relevant cohort of papal applicants is extremely restricted and warped. It’s a very limited field. We are not engaged here on a global search for the ideal candidate. Those who are not men, not celibate, not old, not members of the most exclusive club on earth are not suitable. Of course, married fishermen need not apply.

We all have an interest in the man who would be pope. Catholics especially, even the young, even women, have a stake in the outcome and should have some say in what they want and what they don’t want. Secrecy does not guarantee that the Spirit is at work.

The next pope does not have to be a renowned theologian – probably better if he’s not. Theology has developed into a very arcane and complicated science. The Church has plenty of them, many of whom live with tunnel vision in an ivory tower. Some of them have never lived in the real world. I’d settle for a man of simple faith, one who has developed a rich interior life of prayer and reflection, one who has lived a life and who possesses a sense of fun. That’s important. Laughter, smiles, dancing and rejoicing. Senior clerics are far too serious.

I would hope that, unlike his predecessors, our new pope would take the time to answer his mail. For preference, I would like him to write short, pithy letters to us rather than the long, boring epistles or encyclicals popes have come to send out in the last few centuries.

I want a man who is not programmed to talk in Vatican papalese but who is able to listen to the world and communicate with us in a language which rings true.

I want a man of the world who can return our Church to the values and insights of the Gospel – simplicity, hope, freedom, poverty and to the message of inclusion. I certainly don’t want anyone who thinks he can order us not to discuss important topics such as the place of women in our organization. The successful candidate might ask us respectfully to do something or to refrain from doing something, but to order us about like serfs is now so uncool.

Give me a friendly, pastoral man who doesn’t take himself too seriously, humble and down to earth, able, like Jesus, to set his people free and to re-gain our respect and confidence.

Chris Geraghty