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RNS
News Feature Pope
stays mum on abuse scandal. Why? By FRANCIS X. ROCCA, DANIEL BURKE and KEVIN ECKSTROM
VATICAN CITY (RNS)
— When Pope Benedict XVI stepped out on the balcony overlooking
St. Peter’s Square on April 4, his Easter blessing followed traditional
form: prayers for parts of the world wracked by war, crime and natural
disaster. It also followed
the style of Benedict himself as he remained mum on one of the biggest
challenges of his papacy: the clergy sex abuse scandal dominating global
headlines and placing his own decisions under scrutiny. Those who’ve
watched Benedict for years say his silence — and an aggressive pushback
from members of the hierarchy — conforms with a long-standing pattern
for both Benedict and the Vatican at large. “Benedict
XVI is legendarily someone who thinks in centuries,” said John Allen,
Benedict’s biographer and senior correspondent for the National
Catholic Reporter. “He does not craft his homilies according to
today’s headlines.” The only mention
of the scandal that’s overshadowing the church came from Cardinal
Angelo Sodano, dean of the College of Cardinals, who told Benedict during
mass that “on your side are the People of God, who do not allow
themselves to be influenced by the petty gossip of the moment.” Whether a genuine
crisis of leadership or “petty gossip,” the scandal that has
reopened long-standing wounds in the church has also laid bare the differences
in how the Vatican responds to controversy compared to what many lay Catholics,
and the media, might expect. “Pope Benedict
was a German professor; he’s used to talking to a classroom of students,
not a press conference,” said Rev. Thomas Reese, a senior fellow
at Georgetown University’s Woodstock Theological Centre. “He
simply doesn’t know how to deal with the media.” Benedict’s
slowness to speak is consistent with his previous measured response to
the scandal. His pastoral letter to Irish Catholics came four months after
a damning government report on clergy abuse was released last November. In the absence
of a direct statement from the pope, others have stepped into the void,
with limited success. On Good Friday, the pope’s personal preacher,
Rev. Raniero Cantalameswa, likened criticism of the pope to hatred directed
against Jews. Cantalamessa quickly apologized after Vatican officials
confronted the public-relations nightmare that his words had unleashed. The pope, however,
is certainly no stranger to controversy, and previous flare-ups might
offer a window into why a slow response seems to be a default position,
and what he might say when he finally addresses these issues. The last major
crisis of his papacy came when he lifted the excommunication of an ultra-traditionalist
bishop, Richard Williamson, who turned out to be a known Holocaust denier. Writing to the
world’s Catholic bishops a year ago, Benedict said he “deeply
regret(ted)” any inadvertent damage to Jewish-Catholic relations
from his decision to readmit Williamson. But he also complained bitterly
of the “open hostility” and “hate” that had been
directed his way, especially from fellow Catholics. Benedict presumably
feels no less injured now by complaints he failed to protect children
from sex abuse, or that he showed insensitivity to victims’ desire
for justice. In recent days,
church leaders have cited the internal requirements of church law, and
the primary responsibility and jurisdiction of local bishops, in defending
criticisms of how the former Joseph Ratzinger processed abuse cases. The most serious
charge against the pope himself concerns Rev. Peter Hullermann, who despite
having been accused of sex abuse, was reassigned to pastoral work in the
Archdiocese of Munich in 1980, when Ratzinger was serving as archbishop
there. Hullerman was later convicted of molesting other children, yet
continued to minister as a priest until the Munich archdiocese suspended
him last month. While a former
underling of Ratzinger has claimed “full responsibility” for
the decision to reassign Hullermann to pastoral work, the Vatican’s
chief abuse investigator, Monsignor Charles J. Scicluna, has admitted
the former Cardinal Ratzinger holds a responsibility “that comes
from his office, a ‘the buck stops here’ sort of thing.” And that, said
Reese, may be one reason the scandal has spiralled beyond the pope’s,
or the Vatican’s, control. “The issue
here is that the pope is a man of ideas, he’s not a good administrator,”
Reese said. “The last few popes, we’ve elected intellectuals,
not administrators.” If his letter
to Irish Catholics is any guide to how the pope might respond to the most
serious charges, Benedict may indeed blame the scandal on lax management. In that letter,
Benedict rebuked Irish bishops for having failed “in recent decades”
to enforce existing church law against child abuse, whether out of a “well-intentioned
but misguided tendency” to spare perpetrators punishment, or out
of a “misplaced concern for the reputation of the church and the
avoidance of scandal.” If Benedict were to apply such criticisms to bishops in his native Germany, he could, in effect, acknowledge they also apply to himself, since he once presided over — intentionally or not — some of the tragic mistakes he later came to criticize and correct.
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