segunda-feira, 29 de março de 2010

Scandal Tests Catholics’ Trust in Leadership

By JOHN F. BURNS, RACHEL DONADIO and NICHOLAS KULISH

ARMAGH, Northern Ireland — As the sexual abuse scandal sweeps through the Roman Catholic Church in Europe and the United States, there are few places where dismay and confusion among worshipers strikes as deep a chord as here in Armagh, seat of the embattled cardinal whose fate has become closely entangled with the widening controversy facing Pope Benedict XVI.


As they have for centuries, townspeople turned out in the hundreds this weekend for Palm Sunday Masses in the twin-spired cathedral that looks down on the city, where St. Patrick established his first church in Ireland more than 1,500 years ago.
But judging by the responses of those leaving the Masses, trust in church leaders has been profoundly battered by a succession of revelations that the church hierarchy often failed to take strong action against the abuse in its ranks, and sometimes sought to cover up the problem.
“It is sickening, quite sickening,” said Eamon Gorman, 62, who works for a pharmaceutical company here.
“We deserve better from the church hierarchy,” he added. “If they want to save the situation, they have to come out with the details, all the details, right now.”
The unsettling mix of frustration and dedication among worshipers was equally palpable in St. Peter’s Square as the pope opened Holy Week by celebrating Palm Sunday Mass.
The pope did not directly mention the scandal, or his own role in it, but he made apparent references to the attention the crisis has garnered, saying that Jesus “leads us toward the courage not to be intimidated by the gossip of dominant opinion”.
Benedict also prayed for “the young and those charged with protecting them,” a seeming reference to the crisis engulfing the church.
“How does the church excuse itself after all this?” Mariana Ribeiro, 26, a Brazilian who lives in California, said in St. Peter’s Square while clergy in white, red and pink vestments marched in solemn procession.
The sexual abuse scandal has been particularly unnerving to Catholics in Ireland, where Cardinal Sean Brady, the 70-year-old head of the church in Ireland and archbishop of Armagh, is facing widespread demands for his resignation. The calls stem from court documents showing that as a youthful priest 35 years ago, he had two boys sign papers promising not to tell anybody outside of a secret church inquiry — not the police, not their own families, not even by a silent wink, according to the covenant the boys were asked to sign — about their abuse allegations against an Irish priest.
The inquiry had the effect of shielding and prolonging the career of a priest who was exposed 15 years later as the most notorious child-abuser in the history of the Irish church.
In recent days, it has become clear that top Vatican officials — including the pope himself, while he was still Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger — did not defrock a priest who molested scores of deaf boys in the United States, despite warnings by American bishops about the danger of failure to act, according to church files.
And while he was archbishop in Munich, the future pope was copied on a memo informing him that a German priest accused of pedophilia, whom he had approved sending to therapy, would be returned to pastoral work within days of starting psychiatric treatment. The priest was later convicted of molesting boys in another parish.
Such revelations have led to a strong retort by the pope’s defenders — Archbishop Timothy M. Dolan of New York on Sunday called him “the leader in purification, reform and renewal that the church so needs” — but also rare criticism from followers.
Visiting St. Peter’s Square from Austria, where two dioceses suspended five priests this month pending investigations into abuse, Gertrude Boltz, 63, said the church was facing “very big problems”. But, she noted, she tried to separate them from her own personal faith.
“To think of Jesus Christ is one thing,” she said. “To think of the pope is another”.
While the controversy appeared at the forefront of many worshipers’ minds, turnout was often strong on Sunday, even in some of the cities directly affected by the crisis. At St. Ludwig Church in Berlin, the city where recent disclosure of molestation at an elite Jesuit high school in the 1970s and ’80s opened up the scandal in Germany, the noon Mass was filled to capacity.
With the pews packed, churchgoers stood in the rear. One woman spoke of the victims she knew personally but said the scandal had not led her, nor anyone else she knew, to consider leaving the church.
Others at the Mass cited exact wording from the eight-page pastoral letter the pope sent to Irish Catholics this month, in which he expressed “shame and remorse” for “sinful and criminal” acts by members of the clergy but did not require that church leaders be disciplined for past mistakes.
“I hope that through this process, a new credibility will emerge,” said the Rev. Josef Schulte, who has worked in Berlin for decades. He called the current upheaval the worst in 100 years or more, saying the damage represented “cracks in the foundation” of the church.
“There has been a great deal of trepidation, disappointment and shock,” he said.
In Boston, the epicenter of the sexual abuse crisis that erupted in the United States in 2002, many churchgoers refused to discuss the topic. Others looked saddened, and almost fatigued, when asked about it.
“The church here is still reeling from it,” said Dan Cosacchi, 24, a theology student, who said the pope’s apologies to victims were a step in the right direction.
“I hope he didn’t have direct knowledge and turn a blind eye,” Mr. Cosacchi added.
There were other voices of support, with some parishioners in Europe praising the pope for addressing the issue in a manner they considered straightforward and unflinching.
“I think the way that he is dealing with this is actually pretty radical,” Levin von Trott, 48, said in Berlin, adding, “you can’t just pretend as though this hasn’t happened”.
In Armagh, there was also support for Cardinal Brady, who offered to resign two weeks ago if the pope asked him to. Among those worshipers willing to talk about the issue, as many said Cardinal Brady should stay as those who said he should quit.
Many said they supported him despite deeply wounded consciences, using words like “despicable” and “atrocious” to describe cover-ups by the church. Even so, many said they considered Cardinal Brady the best man to clean up the scandal, despite any previous failings.
“He is our priest, our parish priest, and whatever he’s done, we should support him and give him the opportunity to redeem himself,” one middle-aged woman said, declining to give her name.
Church attendance has fallen significantly here in Ireland in recent years, as it has in many parts of Europe. But by measure of regular churchgoers and those professing themselves as devout believers, the country remains one of the most deeply Catholic countries anywhere. In that light, Armagh offers a bellwether of the currents sweeping the church.
Almost none of those who said they wanted Cardinal Brady to remain sought to excuse his actions in 1975. Instead, they relied on what many called one of the principal themes of the Easter season — the forgiveness Christ showed to those who had crucified and betrayed him.
Indeed, divine forgiveness was a major theme of the homilies and prayers at the weekend Masses in Armagh, along with a special prayer of intercession read by the priest who officiated, the Rev. Sean Dooley.
“Help all who have been abused in any way to gradually rediscover trust in themselves, others and yourself,” it said. “Enable us to treat children with the respect they deserve. Support civil authorities to act justly at all times, especially for the powerless and the marginalized”.
John F. Burns reported from Armagh, Rachel Donadio from Vatican City and Nicholas Kulish from Berlin. Eamon Quinn contributed from Armagh and Katie Zezima from Boston
The New York Times