Pastoralism Could Be a Way to Address Sexual Abuse Coverups in the Church

By Mary Gail Frawley-O’Dea

In 2002 with the expose by the Boston Globe, the sexual abuse crisis in the Catholic Church exploded onto the public square. Since then, countless newspaper and academic articles, movies and documentaries, books, a papal commission, and a papal summit have delved into the reasons for sexual abuse and its mishandling. The website bishop-accountability .org provides an ongoing treasure trove of data on every aspect of the scandal. This article explicates one aspect of an interrelated morass of theological, sociological, political, and psychological threads which, together, offer a still evolving picture of the causes and cures of sexual abuse in the Church.

First, it is important to state that sexual abuse itself is not the “crisis.” Unfortunately , sexual abuse occurs and always will occur in organizations and in families. Rather, the Catholic Church’s crisis is the disgraceful lack of integrity and indifference to victims inherent in its leaders’ responses to sexual abuse of the young. Even that, again unfortunately , is not so unusual when institutional or familial sexual crimes are identified. The Church’s failings are especially galling, however, because of the hypocrisy inherent in its scandal - the yawning chasm between its claim to be the true arbiter of morality , the truest representative of Christ on earth - and its vile history of enabling sexual violation of the young. And that continues too often despite all the books and data. Why?

Many commentators on the topic cite clericalism as a central culprit in the scandal. Clericalism, also called clerical narcissism, privileges the needs, interests, and agendas of clergy and equates holiness and righteousness with the clerical state rather than with the values and behaviors of the individual. As he becomes more self-absorbed with power and the reverence he expects, the clericalist exhibits diminished empathy for others perceived to be of lower station. Clericalism has theological as well as structural underpinnings. For example, the belief that a priest experiences an ontological change at the moment of ordination, rendering him literally an “alter Christus” is pretty heady stuff. It separates him from the laity and can be contorted as elevation over, rather than induction as, a servant of the People of God. Far from Jesuit Daniel Berrigan’s admonition that, “If you want to follow Jesus, you better look good on wood,” clericalism at its worst stymies self-criticism, regret, remorse, or humility . In clericalism, protection of individual and institutional power and prestige trumps servant leadership, honesty, and moral decision making. Certain psychological defenses support clericalism

Denial is a common defense against acknowledging the pain of a truth. It didn’t happen; if it happened, it wasn’t because of me; if it happened because of me and there were consequences, someone else is to blame for those. Clergy from popes to priests, and many of the laity , have used denial rather than face the excruciating pain of processing or criticizing aspects of Catholic theology and structure that fuel the cover-up of abuse. For example, just this month defrocked and disgraced Theodore McCarrick denied in a Slate interview that he ever abused a seminarian despite mountains of evidence and first-person accounts of his exploitation of young men. Similarly, in April 2019, Pope Benedict reared out of retirement through a letter restating hackneyed excuses for sexual abuse as a precipitate of the ‘60s sexual revolution, homosexuality in the priesthood, and secularism. He acknowledged nothing intrinsic to the teachings or organization of the Church.

Projection, the psychological mechanism attributing to others one’s own failings, is another common Church response to the cover-up of sexual abuse. Jesuit psychologist, W.W. Meissner, held that projection was common to the Church and was used to preserve its prestige when it perceived a threat to its integrity by attributing to outside forces qualities inherent in the Church but unacknowledged by its members. Denial and projection have gone hand-in-hand, as when Church figures decry the media or “anti-Catholics” for distorting the scope of the scandal. Here, the Church becomes the victim of dishonest and excessive critics rather than acknowledging itself as a perpetrator of dishonesty and cruelty. For example, former Bishop Thomas Daily, found by the Massachusetts attorney general to have kept known abusers in active ministry with children and transferring them without informing the receiving location of their sexually abusive past, likened criticism he received as a cross he carried in imitation of Christ, thus identifying himself as an innocent victim rather than as an enabler of child abuse.

If clericalism is a disease process fueling coverups, pastoralism is a key antidote and Pope Francis is one of the purveyors of pastoral approaches to much in the Church. His commitment to servant leadership has modeled kindness, empathy, humility, and humor, qualities in short supply among clericalists. He also has been less rigidly doctrinal when discussing sexuality, gender, the role of women in the Church, the goodness of other religions, atheists and even the possibility of a heavenly destination for dogs. Villanova professor and researcher on the Church, Massimo Faggioli, says that Francis prefers bishops who are less “representatives of Rome” and more pastoral shepherds of their local churches. Truly pastoral bishops, empathically connected to their priests and their laity, may be less likely to protect a perpetrator and the Church than to extend themselves to victims past and present.

While Pope’s Francis’s pastoralism is encouraging, his approach to sexual abuse has been inconsistent. His papal commission lost credibility when two survivor members resigned, stating that they experienced the commission as ineffective. In May 2019, Pope Francis decreed that sexual abuse has to be reported to bishops and can be reported directly to the Vatican, but he did not mandate reports to civil authorities, an implied denial of the bishops’ historically proven failure to respond pastorally to victims or to take appropriate action against perpetrators. His 2019 papal summit got mixed reviews when Vat ican officials tamped down expectations about it, casting it as a beginning, not an end. On the other hand, he defrocked Cardinal Theodore McCarrick quickly when credible allegations of decades of sexual abuse were lodged and Francis reversed initial support of accused Chilean bishops, removing three of them from office. Similarly, he sent Cardinal George Pell, a senior papal advisor, back to Australia where a court convicted him of sexual abuse and sentenced him to a six-year prison term.

Since the sexual abuse scandal of the Catholic Church exploded into public consciousness in 2002, the Church has swerved in and out of denial versus acceptance, public relations ploys versus more effective policies, empathy for victims/survivors versus vicious attacks on them and their advocates. The ongoing failure to mandate the involvement of civil authorities in reports of sexual abuse is particularly worrisome. It remains to be seen if this pope, his successors, the hierarchy, clergy, and the laity can ever really insist of full disclosure of sexual abuse and privileged care for victims and survivors.

Mary Gail Frawley-O’Dea is the author of Perversion of Power: Sexual Abuse in the Catholic Church and a psychologist who has, for 30 years, specialized in treating adolescent and adult male and female survivors of sexual abuse.