For more than two decades, horrific stories of abuse and coverup have been a mainstay of the news in the English-speaking world and beyond.
The most recent round of stories raises the the question of whether the church will ever really address the root of the problem.
Earlier this month, a Western Australia parliamentary committee gave its final report after examining the support available to survivors of institutional child abuse, saying the Catholic Church and other religious entities had put their own institutional and financial wellbeing over the needs of victims.
In New Zealand last month, the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care lambasted the Catholic Church in its report to the abuse of children and vulnerable adults in care facilities.
Also last month, news reports on the legacy of Bishop Eamonn Casey appeared in newspapers and television in Ireland. Casey, who died in 2017, was accused of sexual impropriety in the 1990s, and in 2019 it was reported the bishop had faced at least three accusations of sexual abuse before his death.
Around the same time, Bishop Alan McGuckian of Down and Connor in Northern Ireland apologized to Father Paddy McCafferty, who was sexually abused as a young adult in the 1980s by Father James Martin Donaghy, who was jailed in 2012 for 10 years after being convicted of criminal sexual abuse against minors.
The bishop said the report of the abuse McCafferty suffered was eclipsed by the diocese’s focus on child sexual abuse, and noted that at the time of his abuse, McCafferty was a “vulnerable adult.”
“What Father McCafferty reported in extensive written detail, in 2003, was clearly criminal,” the bishop said.
These news reports in the English-speaking world came out as the abuse crisis continues to circle Pope Francis in Italy.
Former Jesuit Father Marko Rupnik, who is accused of abusing some 30 adult women, is still a priest in good standing. Rupnik’s artwork continues to be used on the Vatican’s website—a matter of policy defended by the Prefect of the Dicastery for Communication of the Holy See, Italian layman Paolo Ruffini, in June.
“We’re not talking about abuse of minors,” Ruffini told a room of roughly 150 journalists and other media professionals in Atlanta, Georgia.
“We are talking [about] a story that we don’t know,” the Vatican official said. “Who am I to judge the Rupnik stories?”
Images have surfaced very recently, purporting to show Rupnik pieces decorating Pope Francis’s living quarters.
Rupnik is not an isolated case. Last year, Pope Francis called Bishop Rosario Gisana of Piazza Armerina in Sicily “good.” The bishop had been accused of protecting Father Giuseppe Rugolo, who at the time was accused of aggravated sexual violence against minors. Rugolo was convicted earlier this year.
In a 2020 letter to Francis, a victim said Gisana “knew everything” and still transferred Rugolo to escape punishment. When no action was taken by the Vatican, the victim turned to the Italian authorities.
In his statement last year, Francis said Rugolo “was persecuted, slandered, yet he stood firm, always, just, a just man.”
This response was similar to the pope’s 2018 defense of Chilean Bishop Juan Barros of Osorno, who had been accused of covering up abuse.
“The day they bring me proof against Bishop Barros, I’ll speak. There is not one shred of proof against him. It’s all calumny. Is that clear?” Francis said during a visit to Latin America.
Pope Francis’s defense of Barros sparked worldwide outcry and even drew a rebuke from Francis’s own handpicked President of the Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors, Cardinal Sean O’Malley of Boston, after which Francis sent his top investigator to Chile, apologized to Chilean victims, and promised to do better.
That was six years ago.
The cases that have emerged in the intervening years — the ones outlined here and many others, sadly — have observers wondering whether he really has learned his lesson. Survivors and advocates are increasingly impatient.
Why hasn’t the Vatican learned about dealing with the crisis in the past five years, let alone since the crisis first really erupted under Pope John Paul II over 20 years ago?
After the clerical abuse of children hit the Boston Globe’s “Spotlight” scandal in 2002, church officials began publishing guidelines to address the issue. These guidelines differed from country to country and were not always closely followed.
There are various common reasons for this, from a desire to protect the reputation of the church, to the tendency — typical of human nature — to believe the people you know over the people you don’t know.
This is seen in Francis’s statements. Barros and Rugolo were known to the pope and had friendly conversations with him. Their accusers? Not so much.
Church officials are also reluctant to address the other aspects of abuse. The case of Paddy McCafferty, for example, wasn’t dealt with because he wasn’t a legal minor.
The attitude of senior church officials to the Rupnik case appear to be similar. Rupnik’s victims are adults, and mostly women. Ruffini emphasized the artist-priest isn’t accused of abusing minors.
The abuse crisis in the church isn’t going away. In fact, it is likely to expand.
This year’s report on abuse in New Zealand called for an investigation of Catholic priests from New Zealand and Australia sent to Papua New Guinea after being accused of abuse.
Other recent reports have noted how church officials often sent “problem” priests to areas where they were less likely to face scrutiny. These stories are waiting to explode.
Right now, there is a great deal to suggest the church is sticking its head in the sand.