Crisis Brings New Mission
He wants all bad priests sent packin'
by Pete Hamill, New York Daily News 6-03-2002

William Donohue is in his office high above W. 34th St. and he's speaking in a mood of furious hope.

He's a big, burly, passionate man, the president of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, which he created a decade ago to combat anti-Catholic slurs or cases of Catholic-baiting. The original conservative mission has changed. Now he is serving as one of the most intense voices looking for salvation from the sexual squalor that has engulfed the official church. The Rev. Andrew Greeley has called this mess "possibly the worst crisis since the Reformation."

Donohue ponders that remark, and says: "It certainly is the worst crisis in the history of the American church. I wouldn't fight with Greeley over that. Certainly in this country, there's nothing like it."

The crisis seems to get worse by the week. Two accused priests have already committed suicide, as if choosing the quickest route to hell. Another has been shot. Pedophilia cases have surfaced in 28 states. In Boston, one depraved priest is serving time, another faces trial. In Milwaukee, the 75-year-old archbishop has resigned after admitting he paid $450,000 to silence a man he sexually assaulted 20 years ago.

In New York, the district attorneys are examining a variety of cases, one arrest has been made and a popular Bronx pastor has been suspended, accused of involvement with a teenager two decades ago. Rumors swirl in Catholic circles about worse cases, involving well-known clergymen, complete with dark whispers about sexual activities, of coverups, of suborning perjury and other crimes. Donohue's anger surely expresses the feelings of many rank-and-file Catholics.

"Obviously, the perversion itself is problematic," he says. "But what is worse is the game of musical chairs that was played with these guys — moving them from place to place, after they knew what was going on. And then, for bishops, and others, to say: 'I know things now differently than I knew 10 years ago...'

"What exactly didn't you know 10 years ago that you know today? That child sexual molestation is an abomination? If the man needs help, I'm not opposed to that. But let him get it after he's been defrocked."

Habitual Offender

The case of the Rev. Paul Shanley might be the worst of all, Donohue says, because for more than 20 years Shanley made no secret of his own libertine beliefs. He was present at the 1978 conference where the North American Man-Boy Love Association was created (although he was not a founding father). In the "street" mission where he worked, Shanley made a habit of singling out troubled boys for sex, and was allowed to move on to other clerical assignments without warnings about those predatory habits.

Donohue says that at one point Shanley was appointed by Boston's Humberto Cardinal Medeiros to minister to sexual minorities. Shanley, according to Donohue, insisted at the time that there were 32 separate sexual minorities.

"I guess the necrophiliacs made the cut," Donohue says.

When Shanley was finally relieved by Medeiros in 1979, Shanley said that it was "unrealistic for gays not to have sex with each other," thus indirectly, but publicly, criticizing Medeiros. "And what happens?" Donohue says. "Nothing happens."

If the problem of pedophilia, statutory rape and priestly predators has been known for at least 20 years, why does Donohue think it has reached critical mass in the past five months?

"The Boston Globe deserves the credit for breaking it wide open," Donohue says. "Some people were on to it, but I don't think anybody recognized the scale of it, the depth of it, and that it was all across the country.

"That element of moving them from parish to parish, knowing damned well that these men should be out of the ministry — that's the most heart-wrenching element, the most unforgivable aspect of the whole scandal.

"People understand that we can all make mistakes, that we're all sinners. But when you have a recidivist, and you're dealing with children, then you've got to have zero tolerance."

Meeting in Dallas

In a few weeks, the Catholic bishops will be meeting in Dallas to discuss ways of coping with the scandals. What does Donohue think they should do?

"They have to have a clear zero tolerance policy for all future cases," he says. "Whether they use that language or not."

But, he adds, there are complexities that must be acknowledged.

"What if you have a guy who 30 years ago was involved in some sexual indiscretion, with an adult, or worse — with a child? And what if there is no record of anything like that ever since? We have amnesty for everybody else in this country. Do you have an amnesty policy, or do you just throw them out?"

In spite of possible ambiguities, the language of church policy will have to be pretty tight.

"But people like me are still going to be somewhat skeptical. If I had somebody who was involved in that kind of trade — preying on kids — would I need a policy statement to know what to do? Would I need a lawyer? Would I need a psychologist? What is needed is common sense, and the courage of one's convictions, to follow through on it. A lot of good has been done already, because the word is out: 'Hey, fellas, the party's over, all right?'"

In Dallas, he hopes, the bishops will surrender their "almost paranoid" suspicion of the media. "If the media think you're trying to hide something," he says, "they'll keep scratching till they get it. I would, too, if that was my job."

Donohue believes that the behind-closed-doors church secrecy that allowed the problem to fester is actually part of a larger problem.

"The clerical culture that now exists has got to end," he says. "I've long felt that one of the biggest mistakes the bishops have made is to think that their first duty is to their priests. They're absolutely, inherently wrong. Their first duty is to the Catholic Church."

To Catholics like Donohue, the church includes the 63 million Catholics who are served by roughly 47,000 priests.

"The priests are an integral part of it," he says, "but they're not the whole of it." He pauses and gazes into the hazy New York afternoon. "Instead of having the attitude that 'I can't afford to lose a priest,' they should take the attitude, 'I can't afford to keep some of them.'"