Opinion: The U.S. bishops missed an opportunity with changes to the “Charter”

The internet buzzed after the U.S. bishops consecrated the nation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Orlando on Thursday. June 11. Catholic news outlets and bloggers mostly raved enthusiastically, while the secular media propagated slightly more restrained summaries. Even President Trump weighed in, saying the action was a “poignant reminder that America has always been guided by the loving hand of God.”

Kudos to the bishops for turning to God for help in troubling times for this nation. But we would do well to consider the many places in Scripture where the prayers of those who ignore the basic demands of justice are not heard by a Lord who hears the cries of the marginalized and forgotten. We read in Isaiah, for example, that those who tolerate hypocrisy and enable injustice will not have their prayers heard, even though they “may make many prayers” (Isa 1:15). The Book of Proverbs assures us that while the prayers of the righteous are heard, the outlook isn’t so positive to those that aren’t (Prov 15:29). In fact, we are told in the same book that “if one turns away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer is an abomination” (Prov 28:9).

The chasm between priests and bishops

Relevant here are the exceptionally modest changes made in Orlando to the so-called Dallas Charter, that statement of purpose the bishops first adopted in 2002 as the worldwide clerical sexual abuse scandal broke. The bishops have been on notice for years that the way in which the Charter has been implemented in many dioceses has caused many faithful, hard-working, rank-and-file priests to lose faith in the bishops’ leadership.

The crippling chasm between priests and bishops in this country is even more tragic because there are so many good men on either side, with a straightforward solution in easy reach. And yet here we are.

The present atmosphere of fear and mistrust has led to a severe morale problem for those who labor to bring Christ to his people. According to a recent survey, over 80% of the nation’s priests regularly fear being falsely accused, largely because of the lack of due process they encounter the instant an allegation is made against them. Nearly the same percentage of surveyed priests suggested that their bishop would be one of the last people they would ever go to for help if they encountered a problem in their ministry. That is a particularly worrisome attitude given the close bond that is supposed to link bishops and priests in the service of the people of God.

In what other type of employment would such high percentages be seen as anything other than an all-hands-on-deck crisis that demanded immediate attention? In what other industry would CEOs who preside over such a collapse of trust among their valued mid-level leaders survive the next meeting of the board of directors?

Sadly, many of the bishops gathered in Orlando appear to have side-stepped the main issue. As a non-legal document, the Charter has no legal standing. It is only a general statement of purpose, an interpretive guide to the Essential Norms, that companion piece of legislation that had to be approved in Rome before it could be promulgated. Only the Essential Norms have the force of law, and those remained untouched in Orlando.

As a result, much of the buzz about the revisions is both misplaced and misleading.

A problematic practice goes unaddressed

So what was changed?

First, the bishops pledged themselves to observe the ancient principle that a man is innocent until proven guilty. Those are great words, but they were already in canon law to begin with, and yet have been regularly ignored for the last 25 years. Thus, who cares if they’ve been added now to a document lacking any legal force whatsoever, and in an environment where violations of the principle occur almost daily?

In many dioceses, priests who are accused of misconduct—even if only within the pages of some complaint from a plaintiff’s lawyer looking to capitalize on the crisis—are frequently subject not only to immediate removal but also to severe restrictions on their ministry, which can last many months, if not years. Long delays in handling cases, compounded by inadequate training in canon law of diocesan investigators and review board personnel, as well as violations of their right to privacy (e.g., coerced psychological evaluations and mandatory releases of HIPAA-protected records) add to the despair and confusion—not only on the part of the accused priests, but also by those family members, friends, and parishioners who suffer along with them.

And when prejudicial statements are then made about the accused by their own dioceses, how is it possible for them to ever recover their reputations?

Yes, the recently issued revisions include a few words about the value of someone’s reputation. Yet these affirmations of existing law sounded more than a little hollow given the deafening silence in Orlando about the widespread practice of publishing lists of “credibly accused” clerics. (The revisions added a glossary of terms to the Charter, but it is telling that this vague, uncanonical, overused, and damaging phrase is missing from the list.)

The odious public relations technique of publishing names of men merely accused (even those who are dead) is still used in well over half of the nation’s dioceses, despite repeated Vatican statements criticizing it as a violation of the fundamental human right to reputation required under natural law and the law of the Church (cf. canon 220). To the extent the bishops ignore direction from Rome, they should not be surprised if many people do not care too much about what their new document says.

A missed opportunity

I am personally aware of several cases in which a priest has appealed to Rome over an unjust action against him by his bishop. Even though the appropriate Vatican department has ruled in the priest’s favor, his bishop has ignored the decree from Rome.

One such bishop, when confronted with his own disobedience to the Holy See, put it bluntly: “Yes, well, but Rome doesn’t pay the bills.” In such a lawless environment, it is more than fair to view the bishop’s well-publicized prayerful appeal to God with a jaundiced eye.

How many bishops realize the depth of the crisis is an open question. Certainly, some of them do, but it takes a good deal of courage to counter the peer pressure from other bishops or the advice of their civil lawyers, ignorant of the demands of canon law.

Particularly revealing are the comments made by Bishop Barry Knestout of Richmond, Virginia, on Friday, June 12. Bishop Knestout, in his capacity as chair of the bishops’ committee responsible for the revised document, was quoted as saying that when the crisis first came to light, “the bishops of 25 years ago were in the wilderness in this, without a whole lot of resources.” Bishop Knestout avers essentially that those bishops did the best they could, providing “shelter and warmth for the Church to respond to this issue, so that we [could] rebuild the trust of our people, so harmed and broken.”

These comments show a distressing lack of understanding of the long history of the Catholic Church, including its storied legal tradition, not to mention a certain vanity regarding the position of the United States. Surely it did not take The Boston Globe to inform the Church about the existence of clerical sexual misconduct, nor was the Church bereft of tools with which it could confront the problem.

Beyond that, the bishop’s comments also failed to address the litany of eminently justifiable concerns, voiced repeatedly over the last two and a half decades, over the lack of due process protections for the accused that have been made manifest time and time again, in one tragic case after another, since the Charter was first introduced.

The new document will not age well

Bishop Knestout also commented upon the way he saw U.S. priests were “navigating backlash from the abuse scandals,” saying that he thought “the clergy’s experience is still unfolding. Some are really carrying with them that experience that goes back 20 years, and some the reaction to all that unfolded in 2018. The bishops were not included in the charter up to that point; now they are through Vos Estis. But it takes time for that kind of awareness and confidence in that inclusion to unfold.”

While the bishop’s reflections here, frankly, are a bit difficult to decipher, it seems fair to conclude that he thinks priests are still smarting over the omission of the bishops from the 2002 Charter, and that their discontent will resolve itself once they realize the bishops are now “on the hook” as well, by means of a law promulgated by Pope Francis known as Vos Estis Lux Mundi.

Yet Bishop Knestout’s comments betray a certain opaqueness to the real concerns of priests—that is, the lack of due process once they stand accused, not whether or not their bishop can also be subject to arbitrary and capricious proceedings. In any event, the procedures for accused bishops are very different from those for accused priests. And the double standard is not lost on the presbyterate nor on the pool of young men who might consider the priesthood as a vocation.

The Catholic Church in the United States still has a long way to go before it recovers “the trust of our people.” It doesn’t appear that the document from Orlando will help in solving those difficulties, and in fact may compound them by pretending they aren’t there.

Years ago, many lay people complaining of real sexual misconduct—even criminal acts—were ignored by bishops in the name of protecting the institutional Church. In today’s environment, a different group of people is being ignored, again in the name of protecting the institutional Church, which is so badly scarred by the mistakes of inept governance.

Leaders cannot ignore the demands of justice and expect their people to follow (or to donate, for that matter). Neither can they paper over profound violations of the natural law and expect God to hear their prayers. The Lord is certainly merciful, but he is also just—and he cannot be fooled.