My favorite book of Dante’s Divine Comedy is the Purgatorio and, in particular, Book IX. It is here that the pilgrim is granted entrance to the seven-storied mountain through a gate with three steps. Here is Mark Musa’s translation:
We reached the steps. White marble was the first, and polished to the glaze of
a looking glass: I saw myself reflected as I was.
The second one was deeper dark than perse, of rough and crumbling, fire-
corroded stone, with cracks across its surface—length and breadth.
The third one, lying heavy at the top, appeared to be of flaming porphyry, red
as the blood that spurts out from a vein.
The symbolism is relatively straightforward. The first step acts as a mirror reflecting to the penitent a true image of his sinful self. The following step represents the sinfulness of the sins committed. It is deepest dark and broken. Only after the sinner comes to appreciate the reality of the harm done is he ready to do the hard work of reparation. The final step’s redness bespeaks the blood offered by Christ on the cross that makes reconciliation possible and the pain required of the penitent.
When teaching this passage, I often use the example of a marital vow betrayed. The path of penance begins with seeing oneself as a vow-breaker. Then, one must confront fully the wound inflicted on the other. Any attempt to downplay or simply not see the depth of the harm caused renders the work of reconciliation imperfect. Finally, one must undertake, with help of divine grace, the arduous work of restoring the bond.
I could not help but think of these lines while reading the Report on Child Sexual Abuse in the Diocese of Providence, issued last week by the Rhode Island attorney general’s office. While other states produced their reports years ago, Rhode Island, for a variety of reasons, took longer to collect and collate the information. The result is a thorough and devastating account of the usual assemblage of awful that constitutes what Richard John Neuhaus, way back in 2004, called the Church’s “Long Lent.”
We read in horrific specificity of the sexual predations of priests against the Church’s young, and of the various efforts of bishops to run cover by transferring known abusers to unsuspecting parishes, mistreating those who complained, and downplaying injuries done. Even when you are familiar with this kind of information, its power to scandalize remains.
There is also the official response from the diocese, which takes strong issue with the report’s fairness and the political motives behind it. Finally, there is a video from the current Bishop of Providence, Bruce Lewandowski.
What follows is my own take on these materials as a Catholic in Rhode Island. I am neither a lawyer nor an investigative reporter, and must remain agnostic on some of the points in the dispute between the state and the diocese. I should also make clear that I cannot claim to be a “Rhode Islander,” despite having lived here for almost thirty years. Our smallest state is a particular place; one needs to be from it to be of it. There are dynamics at play here of which I am heedless.
That said, I have had occasion to speak with a few victims of the abuse outlined in the report, and I was personally involved in one of the episodes it recounts. I am also aware of the nastiness of Rhode Island politics and the animus some of its politicians have towards the Catholic Church and its teachings. This includes Attorney General Peter Neronha, the main force behind the report. For those who followed the clown show surrounding the shooting at Brown University in December, he was the most boisterous and self-assured of the incompetents on display. The diocese has every right to be suspicious of his motives.
The report itself is the most complete account of the clerical sex abuse in Rhode Island that exists, and for that reason, necessary reading for anyone hoping to understand the scandal that nearly broke New England Catholicism.
It is long and detailed, giving specific examples from the “75 clergy, including 61 Diocesan priests and deacons, 13 religious order members, and one extern priest, who have been credibly accused of ‘Sexual Misconduct Perpetrated Against a Child by Diocesan Personnel,’ and who reportedly abused over 300 victims” between the years 1950 and 2011. Its conclusion is not news but no less depressing for that:
This Report confirms what we have long suspected, if not known: for decades, when faced with credible allegations of abuse by Catholic priests, Diocese of Providence leaders focused their efforts on protecting priests and the reputation of the Church, rather than protecting children and holding the abusers accountable. As a result of inaction by bishops and other Diocesan leaders, predator priests were allowed to linger years, abusing their positions of authority and harming countless additional child victims.
Since investigators were able to contact almost half of the known victims, the report contains a good deal of personal testimony. It is crucial to note that the diocesan response does not dispute the report’s accuracy with respect to crimes committed, nor episcopal malfeasance. Rather, it focuses on the report’s failure to make sufficiently plain that:
The vast majority of the abuses in the period treated (1950-present), happened in the 1960s and the 1970s, with a significant drop off afterwards.
The extent to which the report is the product “of the Diocese of Providence’s unprecedented and voluntary agreement to extraordinary transparency.”
The problem of clerical sexual abuse belongs to the past in large part because of steps the Church itself has undertaken.
The vast majority of cases of sexual abuse against minors have occurred outside the Catholic Church, even if they do not elicit the same passion from Attorney General Neronha.
In the view of the diocese, these are not oversights but rather part of a plan to harm the Church with respect to both its reputation and its financial viability. As the response states:
Any view that there is an on-going crisis within this diocese which requires urgent intervention is debunked by the fact that the Report took nearly seven years to be publicly released. Instead, the Report and the timing of its release is intended to sway legislative debate. Teased to the media in advance of the General Assembly session (before the draft was provided to the diocese in accordance with the MOU) its intent is to bolster proposed and previously-rejected legislation that seeks to suspend long-standing statute of limitations laws for civil suits. The Report's emphatic historical focus is constructed to create tailwinds for that legislation and discredit any opposition to its passage. Other states have tried this approach, and it has led dozens of other dioceses to bankruptcy.
I do not doubt the veracity of this charge. Neronha’s effort to lift the statute of limitations in order to enable suits against the Catholic Church in Rhode Island is already underway. I wish him nothing but failure.
My concern here, however, is how the Church ought to speak about the clergy abuse scandal nearly a quarter of a century after the Boston Globe published its famous article on the topic on January 6, 2002. I want to be careful here. The Diocese of Providence, Rhode Island has every right to counter the impression that the issue of clerical abuse of minors is an “ongoing crisis” in urgent need of state intervention. The Catholic Church in the United States has taken many steps to eradicate the problem or to at least make it highly unlikely. The evidence is undeniable that these steps have worked. Even Neronha’s report acknowledges in its fourth paragraph that “this Investigation did not produce evidence of any recent child sexual abuse by clergy.”
New witnesses, nonetheless, will continue to come forward. It is typical of abuse victims to wait years before telling anyone. God bless them for their courage; they perform a necessary service for a pilgrim Church. Thus, although the crimes might belong, as the Diocese’s response says, “to a tragic but bygone era,” their capacity to scandalize will be with us for the foreseeable future. It is imperative, therefore, that Church officials continue to reflect on how best to respond, even in the kind of political maelstrom Neronha hopes to kick up.
If Dante is a guide, the first step is the mirror. In reading the Report, one is confronted, for example, with the story of Fr. Joseph McCra. He was first accused of sexual misconduct in 1951, specifically of trying to “insert his hands into the pants of a boy he was wrestling.” A year later, Bishop Russell McVinney (bishop from 1948–1971) received another complaint about “unpriestly behavior.”
After a short leave of absence, Fr. McCra was transferred to another parish, only to elicit another complaint shortly after, this time from the pastor. McCra was transferred again, but this time with the bishop’s admonition that he should not understand the new assignment as “vindication of your erratic and intolerable conduct manifested in the past.” McVinney added a warning that “if I hear any more complaints about your conduct, I shall be forced to remove you from the roll of those available for priestly service in the diocese.”
Nonetheless, two further complaints of sexual abuse of a minor were made. The bishop made good on his threat and suspended Fr. McCra. Soon after, however, Fr. McCra was reactivated and assigned as chaplain at a convalescent home in Newport with the hope that “being chastened,” his “priestly zeal may be renewed.” McCra was suspended again but again reinstated in 1961 as an assistant pastor despite admitting to “immoral touches . . . once in a while.” He died in 1964. His name was initially left off the diocese’s List of Credibly Accused Priests. At no point was law enforcement notified.
This case of episcopal malfeasance reveals the heart of the scandal qua scandal. In saying this, I do not intend to underplay the harm done to the victims themselves. The personal testimonies in the report are gut-wrenching. Innocent lives were destroyed by vicious men. Yet, I believe, it was finding out about the transfers that did the greatest harm to the Church’s credibility. Such behavior can only be explained by the corruption of clericalism, a particular Catholic tendency to value clergy more than laity.
For some reason, the pain inflicted upon the young victims, and the possibility of more, did not deter some bishops from sending credibly accused abusers from parish to parish. The damage to the career or, perhaps, dignity, of the priestly abuser somehow outweighed the risk to the Church’s young. Of course, I cannot believe any bishop thought in these terms, and, importantly, the report finds no evidence of conspiracy. Nonetheless, that is what happened time and again.
Another example is that of Fr. A. J. Cote. I knew him and even liked him. He served at our family parish, St. Pius V, which meant working at my children’s school. I can do no better than quote the report:
Father Cote reportedly sexually abused a 14-year-old boy repeatedly between 2001 and 2002 while assigned to a parish in Maryland. The complainant reported the abuse to the Archdiocese of Washington in 2003, and just six days later, in late August, the Dominican Friars transferred Cote to St. Pius V Church in Providence. St. Pius V is located directly in front of a primary school and is immediately across the street from the Providence College campus. Bishop Mulvee approved the transfer while the criminal investigation was pending, though he restricted Cote from public ministry pending the investigation’s outcome.
In the fall of 2003, the head of the Dominican Province, Father Dominic Izzo, informed the Diocese of Providence’s Review Board that Maryland authorities had closed the criminal investigation into Cote because the complainant “had chosen not to press the allegation.” Father Izzo also noted that “Father Cote’s personnel file was thoroughly gone through to look for any previous allegation of sexual abuse or misconduct. None was found.” Izzo therefore concluded that “the investigation of Father Cote has been closed since there is no evidence of [sic] to support the allegation,” and suggested that “the Review Board . . . recommend that [Father Cote] continue to exercise his priestly faculties at the Church of St. Pius V, Providence, RI.”
Bishop Tobin lifted the restrictions on Father Cote, and Cote continued to serve as Assistant Pastor at St. Pius V from approximately August 2003 to November 2005. It is not clear whether Cote interacted with minors during his time there, though records show that he asked not to be involved directly in youth ministry due to what he perceived as a vulnerability to false allegations. Diocesan Monsignor Paul Theroux later stated publicly that “we felt that [Cote] had been cleared.” There is no record that the Diocese independently investigated the allegations against Cote, such as by interviewing the complainant, or requesting Cote’s personnel file from the Dominican Order—and so how the Monsignor could have concluded that Cote had been “cleared” is not at all evident.
Had the Diocese requested and examined Cote’s files, it would have learned of additional allegations of inappropriate conduct with children. The Diocese also would have learned that Church authorities were so worried about Cote’s behavior with children dating back to his seminary days that it considered not ordaining him as a priest at all. Further, if the Diocese had contacted the Maryland law enforcement authorities investigating the 2003 abuse allegations against Cote, the Diocese would have learned that the criminal investigation was not in fact closed due to a lack of evidence; it was only suspended due to the complainant’s unavailability for an interview—and the Maryland authorities indicated a willingness to reopen the investigation if the complainant changed his mind (which he ultimately did). Dennis Roberts, the former Attorney General of Rhode Island (1979-1985) who led the Diocesan Review Board that heard Cote’s case, was reportedly dumbfounded upon learning in 2007 of the information that the Dominican Order had omitted from its reports to the Diocese, remarking, “they didn’t tell us the whole truth.”
In 2005, the original complainant from Maryland sued Cote, the Dominican Order, and other defendants in Superior Court in the District of Columbia. Upon learning of the suit, the Diocese barred Cote from engaging in public ministry but noted that because Cote was with the Dominican Order, it was up to the Order to place Cote on formal administrative leave. The Dominican Order did so within days and immediately transferred Cote to another Dominican parish in New York City (St. Vincent Ferrer). The civil case reportedly settled in 2007 for $1.2 million. In 2008, Cote was criminally charged with sexually abusing the complainant in Maryland, and the following year he was convicted of a third-degree sex offense, sentenced to 10 years of probation, and required to register as a sex offender. Cote died in 2012.
Cote is listed as credibly accused by the Archdiocese of Washington, D.C. and the Province of St. Joseph. He does not appear on the list provided by the Diocese of Providence.
I know most of the people mentioned above and do not presume to judge them. My personal knowledge of this scandal, which includes reading the files provided by Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests (SNAP), informs my assessment of the written response of the diocese.
I find it too defensive, albeit understandably so. It is not a good sign when you must make clear that you do not mean “to deny or diminish the inexcusable suffering inflicted on victims at the time of the abuse or in the very long years that followed.” Neronha has put the diocese in a nearly impossible situation.
Nonetheless, the writers, in my judgment, failed to appreciate that some people will be learning the details of the scandal for the first time. They will be mostly interested in whether Church leaders have come to grips with the enormity of the failure.
Thankfully, the decision was made to add a pastoral appeal by Bishop Lewandowski. You can read a transcript of his remarks here. Although he makes sure to counter some impressions made by the Report, he focuses on the sin itself. It is worth reading in full, but I will conclude with his opening paragraph:
We have heard of and talked about the tragic, historical scandal of sexual abuse of minors by Catholic clergy. What I share with you today is far from new, but each time we hear about it, the trauma and pain are made real once again for victim-survivors and their loved ones. We know and understand that the effects of abuse even from many decades past can persist, as if the abuse occurred yesterday. The Church failed them. Their abusers betrayed their trust and robbed them of their innocence and, in some cases, destroyed their lives. Their faith in God and His Church has been shaken and even lost. I take this opportunity to apologize to the victim-survivors and others in past decades to protect them and keep them safe. I ask you to pray for them. I am praying for them, and I pledge to continue our support for them through the ministry of our Office and Victim Assistance programs.
This is how it’s done. Dante’s third step.
