Sexual abuse by priests has emerged as a scandal in the Catholic Church
during
               
the last decade. Many Catholics are equally troubled by the perception
that Catholic
               
leaders prefer to muffle the problem in a blur of denial, church-speak
and silence.
               
In recent weeks, Edward Cardinal Egan appeared to confront the crisis head-on
when
               
he summoned every priest in the archdiocese to two closed-door sessions
to address the problem.
               
The meetings focused on a 15-page set of guidelines titled "Archdiocese
of New York Policy
               
Relating to Sexual Misconduct," a copy of which I have obtained.
               
During the two media-free sessions, I'm told, the cardinal expressed personal
               
compassion for the victims and families of priestly abuse as well as his
concern that
               
the good reputation of most priests was being sullied unfairly.
The guidelines, however, are a different matter.
               
At one point, the document defines archdiocesan personnel as "all persons
               
[clergy, religious and laity] who are employed by, are under personal contract
               
of employment or volunteer in any of the entities encompassed by the archdiocese."
               
This language is strikingly similar to that used by the cardinal when,
as bishop of
               
Bridgeport, Conn., he fought against lawsuits brought against his diocese
by families
               
of abused children on the grounds that priests were "outside contractors"
and
               
therefore the diocese was not liable.
               
And while punishment for lay employees involved in sexual misconduct is
spelled out
               
as strict, severe and final, there appears to be a double standard for
wayward priests.
               
For them, any punishment should be in-house, a family matter, softened
by
               
"diagnostic evaluation, treatment, successful after-care" and "professional
               
recommended therapy."
               
Nowhere in the 15-page guidelines is there a single mention of police involvement.
               
Calling 911 is not an option.
               
Furthermore, the purpose of the two meetings appears to have been, at least
in
               
part, long-range damage control. One priest quoted Egan as saying: "The
more we
               
show that we have meetings like this, the better chance we have in court,
with less
               
liability. These meetings are a way in which to defend ourselves before
the courts."
               
The guidelines, too, can be seen as designed as evidence the archdiocese
has taken all
               
necessary steps to prevent, condemn and weed out misconduct. Cynics might
view
               
the document more as a shrewd legal brief than a concerned pastoral manual.
               
Perhaps the meetings might have been more heartening to the priests if
they
               
hadn't been surrounded by such a secretive, circling-the-wagons atmosphere.
               
As one priest observed afterward, the sessions "were kind of negative and
not very
               
affirming of us as priests." What might have been more encouraging was
a focus on
               
seminary evaluation and reform, psycho-sexual testing and background checks
on all
               
candidates for the priesthood, outreach programs for families wounded by
sexual
               
predators and some honest soul-searching about celibacy in the priesthood.
               
The meetings also would be more effective if they were open to parents
and families
               
and were held in every parish in the archdiocese to explore, openly and
               
candidly, the problems of sexual abuse by priests.
               
As it is, the closed-door, private-club approach sends a message that appears
to
               
be anything but catholic.
 
                
Ryan is a former columnist for the Brooklyn Tablet
 
 
Original Publication Date: 6/25/01