When some American Catholics worry that the hierarchy is tilting
toward the Republican Party, or taking the church back to the 19th
century (or earlier), they often point to Cardinal Raymond Burke as
Exhibit A.
That's understandable, because love him or loathe him —
and few are on the fence — Burke's many pronouncements on politics and
the culture wars have given both fans and critics plenty of ammunition
for their respective views.
Back when he was archbishop of St.
Louis in 2004, for instance, Burke touched off a fierce debate by
declaring that Catholic politicians such as John Kerry who support
abortion rights should be denied Communion.
Voters who supported
them were in grave peril, too, he added. He later said former New York
Mayor Rudy Guliani, a Republican, who was running for president and
supported abortion rights, should also be denied Communion.
During
Burke's stormy four-plus years in St. Louis, he also had public run-ins
with singer Sheryl Crow and St. Louis University basketball coach Rick
Majerus. His ongoing battle with St. Stanislaus Kostka Church and the
many resulting excommunications of its board members, partially defined
his tenure for St. Louisans.
Burke doubled down on his political
views after Pope Benedict XVI appointed him in 2008 to head the
Vatican's version of a supreme court, saying that under President Barack
Obama, the Democratic Party "risks transforming itself definitively
into a 'party of death.'"
In 2009, Burke fueled another
controversy when he said that the late Sen. Edward Kennedy should have
been denied a church funeral for his support of abortion rights and gay
rights.
"They can't say anything about me that would surprise me,"
Burke said with a soft laugh when asked in a recent interview about the
passionate reactions sparked by his public stands.
"To be honest
with you, I'm the sort of person who would be very happy not to have to
speak out. I'm not a person who by nature likes to do that. But I
believe it's my obligation," said Burke, who is always affable and
remains accessible to the media. "It's a responsibility that's been
given to me. I try to do it, though certainly not perfectly."
The
63-year-old prelate — in his workaday attire of black cassock with red
piping and a scarlet sash with matching skullcap — was speaking in his
gilded offices on the upper floors of the 16th century Palazzo della
Cancelleria, one of the most famous Renaissance palaces in Rome that now
houses the Catholic Church's highest court.
The Apostolic
Signatura handles canon law cases from around the world, from marriage
annulments to parish closings; since 2008 Burke has effectively served
as the chief justice of the church's supreme court. It's a platform that
he has used to great effect — and to the consternation of his critics.
Indeed,
when Burke was called to Rome after just four tumultuous years in St.
Louis, many suggested that he was getting "kicked upstairs" in order to
get him out of the U.S. spotlight.
A case of "promuovere per rimuovere,"
as the Italians say — to remove through promotion.
But if that was the plan, it hasn't worked out so well.
In
his four years in Rome, Burke has continued to speak his mind — he is a
favorite on the conservative Catholic speaking circuit in the United
States — while also becoming a player in Vatican politics in ways that
extend his influence well beyond the occasional rhetorical broadside.
Benedict
elevated Burke to cardinal in 2010, giving him a vote in a conclave
that would elect the pontiff's successor, and put him on the
Congregation for Bishops, the Vatican body that vets candidates for
bishops in the U.S. and around the world.
That gives Burke a key role in
shaping the hierarchy for years to come.
Vatican observers saw
Burke's hand in the 2011 promotion of Archbishop Charles Chaput, whose
conservatism closely tracks Burke's, from Denver to Philadelphia.
And
they say Burke was key in Oakland Bishop Salvatore Cordileone's recent
move to San Francisco.
Blogger Rocco Palmo dubbed Cordileone's
promotion the "Bombshell by the Bay" — Cordileone is an outspoken
conservative and leading supporter of California's Prop 8 banning gay
marriage, and will now be archbishop of the nation's gay mecca. He's
also a longtime friend of Burke's.
Burke also was believed to be
one of the instigators of the controversial Vatican crackdown on a major
group of American nuns, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious,
whom Rome viewed as straying too far from orthodoxy and spending too
much time on social justice issues.
In the interview, the cardinal
acknowledged that he was consulted about the LCWR takeover, but he
argued that it was "logical" to seek his input given his long experience
in the U.S. church.
He also reiterated his view that the Vatican had
every right to undertake the investigation, even as he stressed that he
was not involved in carrying out the actual overhaul.
Burke said
his opinion "is certainly heard" on a range of matters at the highest
level of the Vatican, even if his views are not always followed. "I
don't have any pretenses about being some powerful figure, no," he
added. "But it is heard, and respectfully."
Yet whatever his success since coming to Rome, Burke's rise hasn't been without its stumbles.
Another
of his U.S. protégés, Bishop Robert Finn of Missouri, was found guilty
in September of covering up for a priest suspected of child abuse — the
first bishop ever convicted in the long history of the clergy abuse
scandal. When asked to comment about Finn at a September meeting with
journalists, Burke demurred. "It wouldn't be proper," he said.
Burke
is also a leading advocate of a restoration of the church's older rites
and traditions, like the Latin Mass, which he argues were heedlessly
cast aside in the liberal "euphoria" after the reforms of the Second
Vatican Council in the 1960s.
But Burke has been celebrating so many
old-style liturgies and donning the most ornate regalia — long trains of
watered silk, velvet gloves and elaborate brocades — that several
Vatican officials said he had been asked to "tone it down a bit."
Whether he will is another matter.
"The vestments, everything, are
part of a tradition," Burke says in his defense. "We need to understand
that and not just discard it and say, well, it was all just an ugly
accretion."
For Burke, the risks are too high to remain on the
sidelines.
Obama's presidency and the advancement of issues like gay
marriage and abortion rights have made it imperative for Catholic
bishops to speak up, he says, though he realizes that the president is
ahead in the polls and could well win.
"I don't know what would happen
if that would be the case," he said, shaking his head.
But he said
he has been encouraged that a growing number of bishops appear to be
joining the campaign for religious freedom that has targeted White House
policies on contraception coverage.
"These are definitive
moments, and the stakes are as high as you can get," Burke says. "That
really pleases me, that more bishops are speaking out on their own."