Working Group Reports

Supporting Our Priests

From Your Pastor

When giving permission to publish his letter to the parishioners of St. Rose of Lima Parish in Gaithersburg, Maryland, Fr. Duggan was concerned that it was "old news," coming to Vineyard readers after the fact of the bishops' conference. His letter, however, goes well beyond the details of the conference. Its pastoral tone and message are timeless; the letter speaks for itself.

June 6, 2002

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

In the first homily that I preached at St. Rose on April 6, 1986, I quoted several lines from the final verse of a song that had been commissioned on the occasion of the parish's centenary in 1984:

"Here the welcoming table is set,
The story told that none can forget.
Is freedom here found?
Does compassion abound?"

I then took my cue from those two rhetorical questions that ended the song, suggesting four questions of my own that I hoped would signal my personal priorities as I began to minister here as your Pastor. Here are the four questions I asked on that sunny day more than sixteen years ago:

"What of the 'little ones' in this community?
What of the 'broken ones' in this community?
Can we truly 'call this holy place home'?
How well do we 'tell the story' here?"

The first of those questions--my top priority--had to do with how well this community cares for its children, how well we pass on to them the precious heritage of our Catholic Faith, and how well we protect them from and prepare them for the threats they will have to face as they grow into adulthood. My early vision--a community where children are formed in faith, nurtured and protected, and ultimately sent forth into the world as healthy and strong disciples of Jesus Christ--has come back to haunt me on many occasions in recent months as I have read of the current scandals engulfing the Catholic Church over the issue of child sexual abuse. So much has been written and said in the media about the issues entangled in this horrific scandal that I have been reluctant to add still more words and yet another viewpoint. The pages of America, Commonweal and the National Catholic Reporter, as well as many other secular journals and papers, have contained reflections far more insightful than anything I might add.

But so many of you have continued to ask me, "How are you doing? What do you think about this mess?" and similar questions, that I feel I must share with all of you my own thoughts and feelings in the midst of what many thoughtful observers consider the greatest single crisis ever to face the Catholic Church in our country. I must make it very clear to you, however, that the thoughts I share below represent my own very personal perspective on these events. Of necessity, I cannot speak here in any official capacity as a spokesperson for the Cardinal or the Archdiocese, much less for the Catholic Church in general. And while I know that I cannot fully separate myself in the public forum from my role as your Pastor, if you will allow me, I wish simply to share what is in my heart and on my mind as a brother Christian, one who like you has been deeply pained by the shocking revelations of recent months. I also ask your indulgence in allowing me to express thoughts not yet fully formulated, feelings still raw, conclusions still incomplete. This is not a polished essay--it is a work in progress, reflective merely of my current take on the situation.

The question I have most often been asked is how I am personally holding up amidst all of this. While I deeply appreciate the concern expressed in such inquiries, they also make me a bit embarrassed. "How are the victims of abuse doing?" I ask myself--that is what really matters. Any pain or embarrassment I may feel is of little consequence in the face of the enormity of suffering that victims of childhood abuse undergo--and continue to undergo--sometimes for an entire lifetime. Compared to their pain, I feel self-pitying even to mention my own discomfort. But because I know your concern for me is genuine and you deserve an answer, I will share with you that this has been the darkest and saddest period of my nearly 33 years as a priest. I confess that nothing revealed thus far has come to me as a total surprise. More than I wish over the years I have seen firsthand the sad humanity of our Church--its members and its leaders. I have long been pained by a system of clerical privilege and secrecy as corrupt (and corrupting) as any entrenched bureaucracy at Enron or in Washington. Clericalism is a sin that betrays the unity of the Church intended by Jesus by creating the illusion that priests and people are on two separate levels--with the clergy, of course, being presented as superior to the laity. This lie betrays the true mystery of the Church, allowing pedophile priests to justify using children for their own perverted pleasure and bishops to worry more about protecting the reputation of the priesthood than the children who have been victimized.

The shame I have felt over having our dirtiest secrets revealed for all to see--while a necessary and I hope healing process--has been acute. I love the priesthood and feel humbled and honored that God has allowed me to minister in the Church in this way. But wearing the Roman collar in public at this time is not something I do comfortably or with pride. It is not easy to embrace a young child in front of church after Mass and wonder, "are they wondering?" I want you to know, however, that I am fundamentally "ok" in the midst of all of this. I will come through this present darkness, hopefully chastened and more deeply committed to the renewal of the Church that Pope John XXIII prayed for and that has been the driving force of my own vocation since my seminary days. Please, don't worry about me! Together, let's direct our concern where it belongs: to those who have suffered abuse.

My view of the scandal is that the sin has been threefold:

• The first sin: Children have been abused by those in whom they should have been able to put their trust. The violation of their bodies and of their spirits has been an enormous evil, and no words of condemnation for the evil perpetrated against them in their innocence can adequately express the outrage we should all feel. Those who have abused children must be removed from ministry and held accountable for their actions.
• The second sin: Those in positions of authority erred terribly in their judgments--about what to do, about where their first concerns should have been directed, about what advice to follow, about many, many aspects of their responsibilities. Their failures are in my mind a classic example of social sin--the cumulative result of personal sins and a systemic evil enshrined in flawed human structures that we sometimes mistook for God's will. Some in authority acted (or failed to act) out of ignorance, some from cowardice, some from motives even more base and shameful. Most, I believe, thought they were doing the right thing at the time, given the warped perspective of a worldview formed (and corrupted) by centuries of clericalism. Whether their ignorance was culpable or not I believe should be left to God's judgment alone. Today, we must condemn the sins of the past, but leave the judgment of moral culpability to God. This does not mean we should ignore or excuse the sins of the past. Accountability must be fixed; responsibility taken, and in the public forum we should demand redress. But I believe we should to leave to God all personal judgments about any specific individual in authority.
• The third sin: They still don't get it! I am deeply saddened by how little evidence I see that our bishops have gotten the point, even after so much has been revealed and so many have pointed out to them the critical need for reform. Exceptions are to be found, to be sure. And I hope I am proven wrong by the collective actions of the bishops at their upcoming meeting in Dallas. But I am very concerned that their deliberations next week may give the appearance that many in the hierarchy are still more worried about protecting financial assets and their own image than they are healing the victims and restoring moral integrity to the office of bishop. The loss of credibility as moral leaders that our bishops have suffered is particularly tragic at a time in our nation and in the history of the world when there seems to be such a dearth of prophetic voices. The moral dimensions of the war on terrorism, political and economic priorities being decided by power brokers in Washington and elsewhere, the staggering proportions of social problems from global warming to the distribution of wealth, challenges as insidious as AIDs in the developing world and abortion in our backyards--these and a host of other burning issues of our time need to be addressed by moral leaders with credibility and integrity. Our Catholic Faith has a deep reservoir of wisdom that should empower us to offer guidance to a troubled world, but our bishops have been rendered mute by their failures in handling the sexual abuse scandal. If the Gospel is to be preached with vigor, if the disciples of Jesus are to challenge the things in our world that need to be challenged, then it is extremely important that our bishops recover a position of moral authority and credibility.

I believe the depth and breadth of revulsion that has been voiced, both about the abuse and about its handling by those in authority, is symptomatic of a still deeper concern in our collective psyche over the degree of exploitation of children rampant in our society. Sexual abuse of children is not limited to those who wear the Roman collar, as I am sure you know. There is a vast commercial enterprise that reaps billions from the many ways that children are rendered the object of sexual desire--from the child sex slave trade for First World tourists, to internet pornography, to the very newspapers that moralize about the abuse of minors on the editorial page, yet accept advertising that sexualizes mere teenagers as a means to sell merchandise. Something is dreadfully wrong in our culture, and we know it at a deep level, and the scandal in the Catholic Church has provided an outlet for a moral outrage far beyond the confines of our own shameful story. Rather than complain that we are the recipients of unfair scapegoating, however, I think we need to recognize and admit the corrupting power of a culture that has infected even the disciples of Jesus. Our shame must make us more vigilant to put our own house in order and more aggressive in our efforts to purify a culture that seems to have lost its moral compass.

The scandal has lain bare how insidious are the effects of a culture of clerical privilege and secrecy. But it has thus far brought into the light of day only one symptom of a systemic evil whose tentacles are pervasive in our Church. We are only now beginning to realize the urgency and the full scope of the renewal that Pope John XXIII called for if the Church is to be an effective agent of the Good News in today's world. I am more convinced than ever that those who resist the renewal of Vatican II--and their power in the Church has grown stronger in the past 25 years--must be confronted and challenged. There is a way of doing business in the Church that must stop once and for all. No longer must the complicitous silence of the laity allow the hierarchy to "take care of things" for them, as if they were themselves incapable of dealing with issues requiring wisdom, discernment or a generous measure of divine guidance.

The People of God must claim what is their right by baptism--that they, not just the hierarchy--are the Church. It is no secret that many of those chosen as bishops and promoted into positions of prominence have distinguished themselves by their loyalty to Rome more than by their creativity and prophetic commitment to Vatican II. How else can we explain the meek compliance of our bishops as arrogant Vatican bureaucrats have treated them more like branch managers of a multi-national corporation than successors of the Apostles, entrusted in their own right with the care of the local Church? While too many of our bishops have proven bankrupt of courage, lay Catholics have just as much shown themselves docile (and dumb) as sheep by failing to demand better of our shepherds. The silence of the People of God has allowed our bishops to bow before Rome's myopic patriarchy and totalitarian exercise of authority that is far removed from the servant leadership of Jesus.

Long after the rest of our fellow citizens take it as a foregone conclusion that women should enjoy equal rights and places of power in the organization of our common life, the Catholic Church in the United States stands out as a place where women remain conspicuously absent from real influence and decision-making. Until millions of Catholics throughout our country demand a place at the table of influence and power, our bishops will see themselves as junior executives in a centralized Roman bureaucracy, and act accordingly, marginalizing not just the gifts of women, but those of all the laity.

"But what are we to do?" Claim your baptismal right to be the Church! I believe those who leave the Church in disgust forfeit their claim and betray their own trust. Similarly, I am of the opinion that withholding contributions from the Cardinal's Appeal only hurts the poor who are served by agencies that depend on the Appeal for funds. I also believe that if our bishops hear over and over again from enough of the faithful--in carefully crafted letters, in reasoned telephone calls, even in person--they will no longer be able to live in the unreal world of chanceries and the seductive corridors of power--whether in Washington or in the Vatican. It is time for the Catholic laity of our nation--the most well educated and involved group of lay Catholics in the 2000 year history of our Church--to insist that everyone who ministers in the Church--bishops, priests, deacons, theologians and professional lay ministers--be a person of integrity, honesty, collaborative leadership, and prophetic vision.

Even as we condemn the corruption that has been revealed at the heart of our Church, we must do so with a sense of our own sinfulness and with a trembling humility before the true meaning of discipleship. All of us fall short of the demand for holiness inherent in our baptism. Jesus cautioned that only those without sin should cast the first stone; but he also urged his disciples into the world to preach Good News, to heal, to cast out demons, and to be agents of reconciliation. I am convinced that the renewal of our Church for which we have prayed since John XXIII convoked the Council will come, ultimately, from the bottom up. It is the goodness and the holiness of ordinary Catholics--people such as the parishioners of St. Rose who have so often inspired and challenged me--that will in the long run save us from the scandals that so overwhelm us at present.

As I write these words about the need for our bishops to be better bishops and our lay people to be holier disciples of Jesus, I am keenly aware of my own limitations and failures. I know better than any of you my sinfulness, my shortsightedness, and my lack of courage to live the Gospel. I have not always done my best; I know I must do better, if I am to live up to the challenge I offer others. It is no mere rhetorical flourish when I ask you for your prayers, that I might be a better Pastor to the community in which I have been called to minister. I pray I will never scandalize you terribly; I hope at worst I will merely disappoint! But in any event, I am committed to continue to work here in this community as long as God (and the Archbishop) allows me to do so. I remain tremendously energized by the challenge of All Are Welcome, our current Pastoral Plan that calls us to be more welcoming and inclusive of the diversity in our midst, as well as to build facilities for worship and gathering that will better serve our mission.

The enormity of the challenges at time threatens to overwhelm me. But I often hold in mind the image of Moses leading the Israelites in battle against their enemies. As long as his arms were lifted in prayer to God, the battle went in their favor. When he tired, and his arms drooped, their fortunes waned. So, he called others to hold up his arms, and with their assistance the Israelites prevailed! Continue to hold up my arms. When my strength fails, my courage falters, or my virtue is lacking, help me, challenge me, pray for me. I am convinced that out of the scandal that has so profoundly shaken our Church will come the grace for renewal, if only we have the courage and love to be agents of holiness ourselves. If you have persevered in reading this too-long letter all the way to the end, then you deserve an extra measure of celestial points! May God bless you and protect you.

With every best wish, I am

Yours in Christ's love,
Rev. Robert D. Duggan
Pastor

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