It was during the funeral of Pope John Paul II
in 2005 that the campaign for his canonisation began.
"Santo subito!"
said Italian posters held up in the crowd.
"Make him a saint
straightaway!"
Investigations into his cause have continued ever since
and now, six years on, the veteran Vatican-watcher Andrea Tornelli has
suggested that an alleged miracle linked to the intervention of the
Polish pope has been confirmed as true by the Vatican's Congregation for the Causes of Saints.
Tornielli, writing in the Milan paper Il Giornale, says that the
congregation's medical panel has accepted that a French nun's recovery
from Parkinson's disease was caused by John Paul's intercession.
The
miracle now has to be approved by a commission of bishops and cardinals
before John Paul could be first beatified and then canonised.
There's
always been unseemly haste about the canonisation of John Paul II.
The
church usually has a five-year "cooling-off" period following someone's
death before they can be considered for sainthood – a sensible approach,
given the emotions that surround someone's passing – but Pope Benedict waived this in the case of his predecessor.
Might
he now rue the day?
While John Paul's place in history is assured,
given his role in the fall of communism, his remarkable efforts to
improve the relationship between the Catholic church and Jews, his
globetrotting showmanship and his ability to say sorry for past papal
mistakes, there is one particular giant blot on his papacy which casts
doubt for many, including Catholics, on his holiness: his relationship
with Father Marcial Maciel Degollado, who founded the Legion of Christ movement for priests and its lay organisation Regnum Christi.
Maciel's
work, which included founding many schools, universities and
seminaries, brought him into constant contact with young people.
His
conservative approach to church teaching, his flair for both recruiting
young men to the priesthood and the wealthy to become donors to the
church made him particularly appealing to John Paul and others around
him at the heart of the Vatican.
For years there were allegations about
his sexual abuse of young people.
But Maciel retained a powerful
position at the heart of the Catholic church, accompanying John Paul to
visits to visits to Mexico on three occasions and being asked to join
influential committees.
Could John Paul not have known
about the rumours and allegations swirling around Maciel?
It may well be
that as his infirmity increased, his aides limited access to
information. And plenty of people can now attest to how they have been
duped by apparent good, kind and charming people who have turned out to
lead double lives.
But certainly, there was more than an inkling about
Maciel, well before ill-health struck John Paul.
Evidence has emerged of
Maciel's abuse of seminarians as long ago as the 1940s.
An American
bishop sent detailed evidence from a former Legion priest to Rome
through official channels on three occasions.
Nothing happened.
Meanwhile the cash flowed into the Vatican's coffers from Maciel's
wealthy friends.
By 2004, Jason Berry and the late Gerald Renner had exposed his double life in their book and documentary Vows of Silence.
The following year, Maciel stood down from running the Legionaries, and
just days before the death of John Paul, the then Cardinal Joseph
Ratzinger was speaking of the "filth in the church", widely interpreted
as meaning child abusers in general and quite possibly Maciel in
particular.
It took Ratzinger just a year following his election as Pope
Benedict XVI to discipline Maciel and invite him to a life of penitence
and prayer.
Two years later, Maciel died, and since then
further revelations have been made – of his rampant paedophilia, his
drug taking, his financial scandals, his keeping of two mistresses, his
fathering of several children, two of whom he abused.
Last year Pope
Benedict announced a commission to overhaul the Legionaries while the
language used about Maciel himself by the Vatican – "immoral", "devoid
of scruples" was notably tough in its denunciation.
This is
the darkest chapter in the paedophilia scandal. But it's more than
that: it's also a story of how money can gain you access and power in
the church, and how fear of scandal continues to be one of the strongest
sentiments in Rome, leading to cover-up.
Cardinal Christoph Schönborn
of Vienna has spoken of the then Cardinal Ratzinger struggling against
the odds to tackle child abuse.
Nothing speaks more loudly than how he
was blocked by other powerful Vatican figures than the way he moved
against Maciel as soon as he was in charge.
The Maciel saga is a distasteful backdrop to a canonisation that could well become another Vatican PR own goal.
SIC: TG/UK