It’s the kind that tells him it’s time to call in Cardinal Sean O’Malley.
When scandal strikes the Catholic Church, O’Malley knows how to quiet public outrage over it.
Charming, humble, and accessible, he’s a public relations pro.
For a pontiff in dire need of better branding, it’s a good move to name O’Malley to a team of high-ranking prelates who will advise the archdioceses of Ireland about the clergy sexual abuse crisis that outraged that country.
Of course, calming outrage is quite different from fixing an institution that resists owning up to just how broken it is.
And it is no substitute for holding child abusers and their enablers accountable for their crimes. Investigating alleged crimes in the religion is a job for outside law enforcement.
The Vatican, however, is still allowed to investigate itself.
Dublin represents the fourth time O’Malley has been called upon to rescue the church from the snare of clergy sexual abuse scandals.
His record reflects the push and pull between the old forces of secrecy and the new pressure for transparency.
In 2002, he was dispatched to Fall River, a diocese torn apart by the serial abuse of minors by the Rev. James R. Porter. From there, he went to Palm Beach, where two previous bishops acknowledged sexually abusing minors.
He arrived in Boston in 2003, to replace Cardinal Bernard F. Law, who resigned after his record as enabler of predator priests became public.
O’Malley is adept at embracing the symbols of openness and transparency and expressing concern. He has met with hundreds of survivors.
Over the last seven years, the archdiocese has provided millions to fund counseling and other services for survivors and family members.
He conducted a “Pilgrimage of Repentance and Hope’’ in 2006, and in 2008, arranged a meeting between the pope and five Boston sexual abuse victims as part of Benedict’s first visit to the United States.
The Boston Archdiocese now has a host of policies and practices designed to create safe environments in churches and schools, including a commitment to report all allegations of clergy sexual abuse to local law enforcement agencies.
But critics still say he hasn’t done enough, and what he keeps hidden is cause for concern.
The complaints go back to Fall River, when Bristol District Attorney Paul F. Walsh Jr. personally released the names of 20 priests accused of sexual misconduct — a step Walsh said then that he took because of the recalcitrance of church officials, including O’Malley.
Advocates for victims of clergy sexual abuse now want O’Malley to make public a list of all priests in the Archdiocese of Boston who were accused of abuse, along with their assignment records.
It hasn’t happened yet, due to the complexities, the archdiocese argues, of disclosing information relating to someone accused of a crime. Three accused priests have also been reinstated, with little information to the public about how those decisions were reached.
“As a Boston Catholic, I have been astonished by how little information he has given the public. Everyone is enchanted by his demeanor,’’ said Anne Barrett Doyle, of BishopAccountability.org, a Waltham-based group that tracks abuse.
“He is the master of the beautifully symbolic ritual.’’
For now, there’s no question that the pope is adopting a new, improved approach to managing the latest scandal and O’Malley is part of it.
In March, when fresh revelations about pedophile priests in Germany threatened to ensnare him, Benedict blamed it on enemies of the church.
In April, as more details were reported about his involvement in overseeing abuse cases prior to becoming pontiff, the Vatican said the pope was being targeted for his opposition to abortion and same-sex marriage.
Then, in May, the pope reversed course. He said the child abuse scandal was a product of “sin within’’ the church.
O’Malley and the Dublin team will do their job if, this time, they tell the pope that it isn’t just about sin, it’s about crime.
And it isn’t just about public relations, it’s about the public interest.