Reflections on "The Dallas Charter" at One Year

Reflections on “The Dallas Charter” at One Year

Amidst a firestorm of criticism triggered by public revelations of sexual abuse of minors by clergy and the re-assignment of serial offenders, the bishops of the United States gathered a year ago in Dallas. Under intense pressure (for example, the presence of twice as many media representatives as bishops), and seeking to assure the faithful that their children would no longer be put at risk, the bishops adopted a “Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People.” This document embraced a position popularly known as “zero tolerance”: any priest or deacon who has engaged at any time in even one act of sexual abuse of a minor will be permanently removed from any form of ecclesiastical ministry.

With some minor modifications, this Charter and its “Essential Norms” have received the necessary recognitio from Rome for a period of two years. In the months since the adoption of the Charter, the press has carried stories of alleged incidents reaching back many decades, in some cases involving accusations against clergy now deceased. Hundreds of priests have been placed on administrative leave pending civil investigations and canonical processes. Promoters of various ideologies have seized on the crisis as an opportunity to advance their diverse (and often contradictory) agendas.

Certainly, the phenomenon raises a host of structural questions: questions about the screening and formation of candidates for holy orders; questions about procedures for dealing with allegations of this nature, and the need to balance transparency and objectivity with fairness and appropriate privacy; questions about the overwhelming administrative demands placed on bishops, the size of dioceses, and the processes for the appointment and promotion of bishops. These questions are important, and they occur within an ecclesial culture preoccupied with structural issues since the Second Vatican Council.

My reflections are not aimed at these structural issues, nor at the canonical forms of such structures. Rather, I would like to consider some theological foundations upon which our ecclesial structures are (or should be) built. Given the pressures of litigation and media exposure, it is no surprise that we find ourselves as a Church on the defensive. At a time of crisis, theological concerns can seem rather remote. Yet I believe that there are essential matters at stake here: the mission of the Church, the Catholic tradition of moral judgment, our understanding of priesthood are all affected by the “zero tolerance” position of the Charter. Clearly, the protection of children must be our highest priority, and it must be seen as such by the faithful and the community at large. Serious errors in judgment were made in the reassignment of offending priests who were unwilling or unable to refrain from taking advantage of young and vulnerable members of their flock. But it is also true that other priests were able to respond to appropriate help. They have served for decades as generous and effective pastoral ministers, and have posed no risk to minors in all that time. What are the implications of dismissing the latter along with the former?

I. The Mission of the Church: Reconciliation

In his Exhortation Reconciliation and Penance, Pope John Paul II affirms: “In intimate connection with Christ’s mission, we can therefore sum up the Church’s mission, rich and complex as it is, as being her central task of reconciling people: with God, with themselves, with neighbors, with the whole creation...” (Reconciliation and Penance, #8). This reconciliation is at the heart of the mission of Christ, a mission which continues in the Church.

The ministry of Jesus was prepared for by the preaching of John the Baptist, who proclaimed a baptism of repentance, and the Lord Himself began His preaching by calling people to reform their lives. He scandalized the righteous by table fellowship with sinners, and by word and deed proclaimed that God’s mercy was available to all, regardless of how serious their moral failing. This reconciliation was effected by the death of Jesus, who gave His life as a ransom for the many and shed His blood for the forgiveness of sins. Risen from the dead, He entrusted the gift of reconciliation to His disciples, who were sent out in the power of the Spirit to forgive sins. The Church’s prayer of absolution proclaims that this reconciliation is central to revelation of the Triune God: “God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His Son has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins.”

Jesus Christ is the sinless High Priest, but He has entrusted the ministry of reconciliation to sinful human beings. For this reason, the Holy Father notes that if the Church is to be reconciling, she must begin by being a reconciled Church: “...genuinely a community of disciples of Christ ... united in the commitment to be continually converted to the Lord and to live as new people in the spirit and practice of reconciliation.” (Reconciliation and Penance, #9). The forgiveness of sins which the disciples proclaimed is a gift which they themselves had received. The two greatest Apostles were those who had most grievously sinned: Peter, who denied His Master, and Paul, who persecuted the Lord in His disciples. They were effective “ambassadors of reconciliation” precisely because they themselves had been shown mercy by God. The early Roman Church cherished the memory of this mercy, and rejected the rigorist position which held that those who had denied the faith during persecution could not be readmitted to the Church. The catacombs were decorated with scenes depicting Christ, Peter and the rooster. If “the Prince of the Apostles” himself could fail so badly and be forgiven, the Church needed to extend mercy to all who repented, regardless of the gravity of their offense.

Peter was not only reconciled to Christ, he was restored to his position as pastor. At the end of John’s Gospel, Peter is asked three times if he loves Jesus; one question for each denial. In response to each affirmation of his love, he is commanded: “Feed my sheep.” In the wake of the Dallas decision, there is a different dynamic at work. Priests who sinned in the past and who had sincerely repented are now, decades later, summarily removed from pastoral ministry. In every Mass we proclaim that Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world – but apparently not this sin. It is true that people have been scandalized when serial offenders were simply moved from location to location. But it is also true that people are scandalized that priests who have served them well and generously are taken away because of some failing – even a serious one – which took place many years ago. Where is the forgiveness in this?

The objection is made that this is not a matter of forgiveness, but of assuring the safety of children. Certainly in the cases of transgressions which take place from this time forward, the bishops are in a difficult position. There are people who experience one fall, and never fall again; others seem to be unable to find healing. The bishop cannot know a priori which case is before him, and prudence may dictate that from now on a “zero tolerance” position is the safest to follow.

With priests who failed long ago it is a different matter. Here we are not dealing with a theoretical question, but with concrete cases. If a priest sinned in this way, sincerely repented, sought the necessary help to deal with this problem, and has demonstrated faithfulness for many years, has he not earned the trust of his bishop and people? As in other areas of human weakness, so in this matter the priest does not pose a risk precisely because he has had to face this moral failing and deal with it. He has heard both the compassion and the warning given by Our Lord to the woman caught in adultery: “Nor do I condemn you. You may go. But from now on, avoid this sin.” (Jn 8:11) Appropriate prudence on the part of the bishop is aided by the empirical data of professional evaluation and the evidence of the priest’s behavior over a long period of time.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks eloquently of the reality of ongoing conversion for the baptized, and the reality of interior penance. This penance is described as “a radical reorientation of our whole life, a return, a conversion to God with all our hearts, an end of sin, a turning away from evil, with repugnance towards the evil actions we have committed.” The penitent experiences “a resolution to changes one’s life, with hope in God’s mercy and trust in the help of his grace.” (CCC #1431) If a person has demonstrated such a conversion of heart, and then many years later is removed from ministry, are we not denying the reality of conversion? This strikes at the very core of the mission of Christ and the Church which He founded to continue that mission.

II. The Church’s Understanding of Sin

One of the great English converts of the twentieth century was G. K. Chesterton. In his autobiography he relates that a key moment in that journey of faith came when he got to know a priest who had ministered to the poor of London. Chesterton was amazed at the awareness this seemingly cloistered man had of the darker recesses of the human heart. He commented, “That the Catholic Church knew more about good than I did was easy to believe. That she knew more about evil than I did seemed incredible.” (The Autobiography of G. K. Chesterton, pg. 340)

As a community of sinners, the Church knows well the reality of human failing. Over the last two thousand years, she has developed a sense of the synergistic relationship between God’s grace and our weak human nature. The process of ongoing conversion is reflected on primarily in the contexts of sacramental reconciliation and spiritual direction. Discernment requires that the workings of grace and human freedom be seen, not in terms of isolated acts, but within the whole pattern of an individual’s journey of faith. While in popular parlance the term “casuistry” has an aura of excessively subtle reasoning, the process itself is an important part of the Catholic moral life: the application of general ethical principles to specific cases, in a way which recognizes the complexity of unique situations.

In dealing with the morality of human acts, the Catechism of the Catholic Church sketches out some of the elements to be considered in making a moral judgment: the nature of the object chosen, the intention of the person and the circumstances in which an act takes place. Catholic moral tradition recognizes that issues affecting knowledge and consent must be taken into account when making a judgment about the degree of culpability. Canon law seeks to incorporate this rich moral tradition into the legal processes of the Church.

Our tradition also recognizes that certain acts, regardless of circumstance, are of their nature gravely evil, and no doubt the sexual exploitation of minors falls into this category. But even here important questions need to be asked, especially if the conclusion to the process involves something as serious as removal from the clerical state. Were there mitigating circumstances which impaired a person’s responsibility? What was the nature of the act? Was this an isolated incident, or part of a pattern? Moral theology recognizes varying degrees of gravity, and to apply an equally severe punishment to every case is unjust.

“Zero tolerance” is a simplistic response to a complex reality, and it is a response which can only be adopted by ignoring the principles of Catholic moral teaching, and the canonical processes which embody that teaching. It remains to be seen how the implementation of the Norms plays out canonically, but it seems unjust that one act, divorced from its context in the whole life of a priest, can lead to an automatic dismissal from the clerical state.

III. The Catholic Theology of Priesthood

Since the adoption of the Dallas Charter, hundreds of priests have been de facto laicized under the euphemism of “administrative leave”. This can only have a negative impact on our understanding of the permanency and sacramentality of holy orders. In the decades since the Second Vatican Council, one of the most challenging theological issues facing the Church has been the articulation of the identity of the ordained priest, and how his vocation is related to the universal priesthood of the all the baptized. On the one hand, there is a desire to move away from such an identity being tied to a “clerical caste”. Yet both conciliar and post-conciliar teaching of the Magisterium has opposed any theology which would reduce the priesthood to simply one ministry among others. Whatever the language used, theology and Church teaching strive to express the deeply held Catholic belief that the identity of the priest is not described simply in functional terms. The priesthood is a divine vocation which marks a man to the core of his being for the rest of his life.

Yet overnight many priests have been removed from their positions in parishes, chanceries and seminaries. They are forbidden to present themselves as priests, to wear the Roman collar, or to carry out any form of priestly ministry whatever. These are men who embraced a vision of priesthood as a vocation which touched every facet of their identity, and have sought to live this way for thirty, forty or fifty years. Now, for all intents and purposes, they are no longer to consider themselves priests. Family members, friends and parishioners are no longer to think of them as priests. This is being done to them, not because they are doing wrong, but because years ago they did something wrong. They repented, overcame their weakness, and gave generous service to the Church. With the Dallas decision, the implication is that their priestly vocation has been lost.

Time will tell how profound the negative impact of this decision will be on our theology of the priesthood, but I believe it will be very serious. A sacramental identity which can be dispensed with so easily is meaningless. What is certain is that it is having a profound impact on the morale of priests now. For the past fifty years, priests have found themselves in increasingly challenging circumstances. The identity and role of the priest is undergoing a change more dramatic than anything seen since the early Middle Ages. Relations with the laity, brother priests and bishops are changing rapidly, and priests find themselves to be the contact point of many contrary forces in the Church. They need to represent Church teaching to a laity more willing than in the past to challenge such teaching; to minister to parishioners of various cultures and ideologies; and to contend with an increasing workload and the feeling that there will be fewer men following them in this vocation.

In the midst of these tempests, one solid rock they can cling to is that it is a vocation, and the vocation of a lifetime. They were called by God to this way of life, and whatever the changes and challenges our times bring, it is a permanent call. They may fail, at times grievously, but God is faithful to His call and restores them to His service. “You are a priest forever.”

With the Dallas Charter, priests feel that this understanding of priesthood has been abandoned. Brother priests -- their classmates, pastors, co-workers -- suddenly are “on leave”. While priests are united by bonds of friendship and experience in seminary and ministry, their most basic bond is sacramental. Ordination gives them their identity. Now, that sacramental identity has been called into question.

IV. The Relation between Priests and Bishops

The fact that these hundreds of priests have been removed from active ministry by a vote of their bishops points to one of the most grievous wounds dealt by the Charter to our theology of priesthood: the relationship between the bishop and his priests. Historically, there has always been a profound theological link between bishops and priests, who together form one sacerdotal college or presbyterium. This is why, in his Holy Thursday letters, Pope John Paul addresses his “brother priests”. The Second Vatican Council recovered the patristic theology of holy orders which held that the fullness of priestly order is found in the successor of the Apostles, the bishop; presbyters share in this ministry. Priests are exhorted to look upon the bishop as a father, and bishops are to treat their priestly co-workers as sons and friends. Clearly, the bond between a bishop and his priests is sacred.

The critical situation leading up to Dallas was created in part by some bishops who let this relationship outweigh the need to protect children from harm; at times, they imprudently re-assigned priests who should not have been reassigned. When the bishops gathered, members of the Church and the general public were angered by the abuse of children, and by bishops who repeatedly reassigned offending clergy. In an effort to restore their credibility, the bishops sacrificed the priests: every priest who had ever engaged in even a single act of sexual abuse was to be removed from priestly ministry, even if he had dealt with the matter at the time and had subsequently given years of service without further incident. Of the bishops who had repeatedly reassigned offending priests, none resigned. (Only later, under intense pressure, did Cardinal Law do so.) The perception that the bishops took this drastic step for their own protection is widespread among priests and people, but there is little discussion of the matter with the bishops. The chasm between the higher and lower clergy is widening.

This serious situation is manifested in several ways:

1. Lack of Trust: the Council exhorted priests to have a spirit of trust in relation to their bishop. Priests now feel very vulnerable and powerless: files are handed over to civil authorities, decisions are made about the priest’s future over which he has no say. Formerly, conversations between a bishop and his priests were confidential; now such communications must be vetted by legal counsel. In the current situation, a priest in trouble cannot speak honestly to his bishop. Priests who discussed a sexual transgression with their bishop years ago now find that such a confidence has put them in jeopardy: the very fact that they admitted to such a thing in the past means that they are to be permanently removed from ministry.

2. Adoption of Secular Structures: rather than the Church being a leaven in the world, it seems that the Church is being infected by the culture of litigation and public relations. Clearly, there are significant legal issues to consider, and Church leaders have the responsibility to assist civil authorities in the protection of children. But while the Church cannot hold herself to be above the legal and social structures of the society in which she functions, it must not be forgotten that she also has her own structures, founded in the Gospel and interpreted by two thousand years of lived experience. Bishops need to resist the temptation to sacrifice this ecclesial vision. For example, one American bishop claimed that he should not be held legally accountable for the misdeeds of a priest, because “the priest is not an employee, but an independent contractor.” Employee? Independent Contractor? We are a long way from the language of the Second Vatican Council, to say nothing of the New Testament.

3. The surrender of decision-making by the bishop: the constant tradition of the Church is that the bishop holds the place of Christ in his local Church, and that he has the responsibility for making judgments regarding the suitability of a man for service in ordained ministry. In effect, with the Dallas Charter the bishops have abdicated that decision-making responsibility to the Episcopal Conference. Many bishops acted prudently in the matter of reassigning priests; but because some bishops acted imprudently, it was decided that the only solution is to remove the decision-making authority from the bishop and place it in a national policy. Across the country, bishops are saying about some of their priests, “I know he is an effective and generous pastor, and I am certain that he poses no risk to children; but, because of the Charter, he must be removed from ministry.”

Conclusion

While seeking to provide appropriate professionalism in training and ongoing formation, the Catholic Church views the priesthood as far more than a profession. It is a vocation, a call from God discerned by an individual within the community of the Church. Like baptism, it is irrevocable, configuring a man permanently to Christ the shepherd. Traditionally, only in very serious cases would a priest be removed from the exercise of priestly ministry. A year ago, the American bishops voted to remove from such ministry a whole category of people: all priests who had ever, even once, engaged in any form of behavior which could be characterized as sexual abuse of a minor. Why would an action like this be taken?

The most important reason is stated in the title of the Charter: the protection of children and young people. Understandably, Catholics are very disturbed that priests have violated the trust placed in them and engaged in abusive behavior with minors. They are angered that bishops did not exercise sufficient oversight, and in some egregious cases simply moved such priests from one assignment to another, allowing them to repeat this reprehensible behavior. People want to be assured that young people will no longer be put at risk.

The protection of children is a sacred trust, and must be seen as such in the Church. However, it can be asked if this protection demands the removal of all priests who have ever offended, especially if they have shown a spirit of repentance, sought healing, and have not posed a risk for many years. If a priest has demonstrated for decades that he is trustworthy, why must he be removed from the priesthood now?

A second reason is financial: if an employer is aware of a previous offense of this kind, and there is an additional instance, that employer is liable to be sued for a significant amount. Many insurance companies will not cover the damages for such lawsuits. Therefore, some would argue that it is more prudent to err on the side of strictness, by removing all potential candidates for such action, regardless of the nature of their previous offense and their subsequent behavior.

There is also a desire to comfort victims. Sadly, sometimes those who experienced some form of abuse by priests were also victimized by Church officials who ignored them or even threatened them. The bishops voted after hearing the testimony of men and women who endured these traumatic experiences. For some of these people, the idea that any person guilty of sexual abuse can remain in ministry indicates that the Church does not take their suffering seriously. (It should be noted that there are also cases in which the victim has subsequently experienced healing, only to have wounds reopened by the decision of Church officials to hand over records to civil authorities without consulting the victim.)

Finally, there is the need to exercise damage control regarding the Church’s image. The Catholic Church presents herself as a moral arbiter to the world, and here is an example of rank hypocrisy: having lectured others on a host of ethical issues, the leadership of the Church seems not only to turn a blind eye to objectionable behavior of the worst sort, but to provide cover for it.

These are indeed weighty issues, and no doubt they influenced bishops who voted for the Charter. On the advice of legal counsel, and under intense pressure from the media, the bishops chose the safest course: to remove every priest guilty of such behavior, regardless of particular circumstances and subsequent conduct. It was, in worldly terms, a difficult but prudent course of action.

But we must ask: should not the Church be motivated by something beyond worldly prudence – by the Gospel of conversion? St. Paul exhorted the early Roman Christians: “Do not conform yourself to this age, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.” (Rom 12:2) If we believe in the transforming power of grace, we need to affirm this by recognizing the real fruits of that repentance. Catholic theology maintains that we are changed by the grace of God; healing truly takes place. In a reflection on priestly life at the dawn of the new millennium, the Congregation for the Clergy wrote: “The mercy of God offered by the Church, in contrast with secularized concepts of mercy which fail to transform interiorly, is precisely forgiveness and salvific healing.” (The Priest and the Third Christian Millennium, #4.1)

Pope John Paul referred to this salvific healing when he met with the American Cardinals to discuss the current crisis in the United States. While the Charter quotes the Holy Father’s words on this occasion that there is no place in the priesthood for those who would harm the young, it does not cite the Pope’s balancing statement: “At the same time … we cannot forget the power of Christian conversion, that radical decision to turn away from sin and back to God, which reaches to the depths of a person’s soul and can work extraordinary change.”

Like everyone else, priests have to wrestle with demons. With the help of God’s grace, they emerge from these struggles with a greater sense of their own weakness and the need to rely on God and others. The fruit of this experience is compassion, as the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us: “He is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness; and because of this he must offer sacrifice for his own sins as well as those of the people.” (Heb 5:2-3) Rather than disqualifying him for ministry, the humiliation of failure and the grace of recovery can make a man a better priest. Provided he has demonstrated such recovery – and many priests have, by decades of devoted service, without posing a risk to minors – such a man should remain in ministry.

For two thousand years, the community of the Church has offered much to the world: education, beauty, music, social assistance. But the greatest gift she can offer is that which the disciples received from their crucified and risen Lord: the gift of forgiveness. As our Holy Father teaches, this reconciliation is at the heart of the mission of Christ and of His Church. The present crisis provides an opportunity for the Catholic Church to affirm that conversion is possible, healing attainable, and reconciliation desirable. This is the gift which the Church can offer the world at the dawn of the new millennium: “Priests should therefore regard themselves as living signs and bearers of that mercy which they offer, not as though it were their own, but as a free gift from God.” (The Priest and the Third Christian Millennium, #4.2) All of us priests have sinned in various ways; it is as repentant sinners that we offer the precious gift of divine mercy to others.