Sensationalism exaggerates priest cases

? The Vatican’s diplomatic mission here in Washington is on Embassy Row, busy Massachusetts Avenue, a few hundred yards from the British Embassy and across the street from Dick Cheney’s official residence.

For the past few years, a lone picket has marched back and forth along the sidewalk, waving signs at passing motorists. Their words are unprintable here, but his message is unmistakable: He accuses the Roman Catholic Church of protecting pedophiles.

As a driver, frequently with children in tow, I resent his vigil. I dislike having obscenities waved in front of my windshield as I wait for the traffic light to change, and I think it unseemly to picket the Vatican Embassy with rude slogans. The man is “normal,” in terms of dress and appearances, but there is a kind of crazy ferocity in his face. Is he a lunatic who has settled on the Vatican as a target, or did something drive him to his present circumstances? I don’t know.

By the same token, I don’t quite know what to make of the present controversy surrounding the Archdiocese of Boston, and its embattled leader, Cardinal Bernard Law. A pedophile priest named John Geoghan was sentenced Thursday to nine to 10 years in prison for molesting a 10-year-old boy in 1991. He has been accused of molesting scores of children for over 30 years in parishes around Boston.

It has been revealed that the archdiocese, when confronted with the facts of Geoghan’s crimes, treated the matter with discretion  if it treated it at all  and transferred the priest to yet another parish. It has since been learned that, over the past several decades, the Church has dealt with many similar cases by moving priests around or, if legal action was taken, quietly settling civil suits with cash payments.

To borrow a phrase, all hell has broken loose. Law has released the names of various priests accused of past sexual misconduct, and other dioceses are following suit. Public anger at the Boston hierarchy, and at Law in particular, has been notably virulent. Radio stations are full of talk about a betrayal of trust.

Newspaper columnists have called on Law to resign; some have even suggested he may be criminally culpable. There have been fervent demonstrations at the cardinal’s residence, and tearful testimony from self-described victims. There are, of course, dozens of lawsuits now pending, and the tort bar is gearing up for punitive damages.

It should be said, of course, that pedophilia is a serious matter, and the Church should have taken more aggressive action against errant priests. Under such circumstances, the instinct of organizations is to practice damage control, and even the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Boston is not immune to human nature. The fact that the Church chose to deal with the problem in a pastoral manner, rather than call in the cops, is not surprising; but it was a notable disservice to the faithful, who feel aggrieved. Priests who prey on little boys ought to be punished, not insulated from the wages of sin.

At the same time, there is something like hysteria in the air, and that is equally dangerous.

Two decades ago, an erroneous belief in the perils of nursery schools as breeding grounds for child molestation, animal sacrifice and satanic worship led to dozens of false accusations around the country, the abuse of power by police and prosecutors, and hundreds of devastated innocent lives. One of the best-known and most shocking miscarriages of justice, the Amirault case, took place in the Boston archdiocese, and is still not settled.

Yet newspapers are publishing sensational accounts, and district attorneys are collecting anecdotal evidence dating back to the 1950s. A round of show trials and harsh prison terms may be expected. Prejudice against Roman Catholics will be disguised as moral indignation, and hostility to Law  who, like any traditional cleric, has his share of detractors  has found a populist cause.

As one who is neither Roman Catholic nor a resident of Boston, I can only observe that the public frenzy seems disproportionate to the facts of the case. Being fondled by a pedophile is unpleasant, to be sure, but it is not murder and mayhem. Law was probably wrong to act exclusively on medical advice, but following the lead of experts is not yet a crime. One injustice is apt to be followed by another, as blameless priests are bound to be swept up in the maelstrom.

Still, disproportionate or not, the Church has a problem that seems likely to persist. Thus, a modest suggestion: Once the fever has subsided, and the last checks have been drawn, the Church might wish to reconsider the celibate priesthood. It clearly attracts undesirable recruits, whose understanding of self-discipline seems at variance with their vows. This would not cure all ills, by any means, but it would certainly reduce the likelihood that the Vatican Embassy will be picketed by victims of pedophilia for decades to come.


 Philip Terzian is the associate editor of the Providence Journal.