The Rev. John Regan — who stole about $300,000 from his church only to
lose it all at the dice tables — blubbered and begged for mercy at his
sentencing Tuesday.
But instead of mercy, Father Regan got a certified miracle:
Sixty days in jail.
That's right, 60 days for 300k in DuPage County, and then 150 days in a halfway house. It sure beats prison.
And who dares say that justice isn't blind?
Prosecutor Helen Kapas had asked for 10 years, but Regan, a Notre Dame man who said he suffered from a gambling addiction, apparently softened the crusty heart of DuPage County Judge John Kinsella.
Kinsella started off talking tough, ridiculing Regan as "arrogant" and
"in need of humility" for stealing from the St. Walter Catholic Church
in Roselle, adding that the priest would end the day walking out of the
courtroom in handcuffs.
But that should have been the tip-off. When judges start lecturing the defendant, the defense lawyers often end up smiling.
"I know some won't be satisfied," said Kinsella, in words that should be
carved in granite, "but I don't know what would be accomplished by
having you sit in some prison in downstate Illinois for the next 30 or 40 months."
You don't know, Judge Kinsella? OK, I'll tell you what would have been accomplished.
It's called it justice.
I'm all for mercy and I'm the guy who should be in the last row, head
down and begging forgiveness for my own sins, but consider the case of
churchman George Valdez.
Valdez wasn't a Roman Catholic priest, like Regan.
Instead, Valdez, married with children, was the deacon of St. Mary's Catholic Church in West Chicago.
Deacons are devout people, religious, always helping out their church.
Valdez was also the parish business manager. And, like Regan, he stole
money from his church.
Valdez stole about the same amount as Regan, just over $300,000.
Like Regan, he took church funds and lived large. But Valdez didn't shoot dice. Instead, he bought tickets
to Bears and White Sox games, and helped pay for his daughter's
wedding, and hotel rooms, pricey restaurants and other gifts for himself
and family.
And so at his sentencing in February, Valdez began to weep and told the
court that he was truly ashamed: "sorry to my God, my family, my parish
and my priest. I ask forgiveness from all."
But Deacon Valdez wasn't Rev. Regan, and the judge who was sentencing
Valdez wasn't named Kinsella. Instead, mercy was asked of DuPage County
Judge Kathryn Creswell.
Judge Creswell didn't hand Valdez a miracle. And she didn't bestow mercy
upon him. But she did give him something else, something he'll never
forget.
She gave him six years in state prison.
Not 60 days.
Six years.
I know that all cases are different and that some judge or lawyer will
take great umbrage with this column and write a stinging epistle to the
newspaper demanding my head on a pike outside the DuPage County
Courthouse in the name of all that's decent, so judges won't have to
take any more umbrage.
But all I think of is Valdez weeping and admitting his guilt and taking it all upon himself, with no excuses.
And then the Rev. Regan on Tuesday, weeping and blaming it on his
gambling addiction, with a chorus of witnesses who spoke not in terms of
good and evil, not about the right and wrong of things, people who said
nothing about free will.
The deacon who got six years understood the right and the wrong of it, and so did his sentencing judge.
But Tuesday's defense was less about moral absolutes and more about the medicalization of bad behavior.
"How could I, a priest, do this?" Regan testified Tuesday. "How could I
hurt people? Because I have a gambling addiction … I didn't want to do
what I did … I didn't want to max out my credit cards. I didn't want to
ask my mom to take out a home equity loan and then, a month later, go
back to gambling … But I did."
He stopped, he paused, he cried, and it was depressing to see. There
were parishioners there to support him, and even those who were angry at
what he did were relieved it was over.
You could see the pain on their faces and the love of their church, and I
wish the pro-casino politicians in Illinois, who want more casinos to
squeeze more revenue from the taxpayers, could have touched their eyes
and felt those tears.
Later, Rev. Regan spoke again, and again asked mercy, but veered
somewhat off his script. He became full of himself, proudly babbling
about how the only reason he gambled was to help "win money for the
church."
He didn't sound the least bit remorseful, but his lawyers, the young Jim Ryan and the veteran Jack Donahue, quieted him down so Judge Kinsella could perform his wonders.
Sixty days for $300,000.
Or six years for $300,000.
What are the odds? Place your bets?
Because in DuPage County, it's just a roll of the dice.