Showing posts with label Catholic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Catholic. Show all posts

Dec 18, 2024

CultNEWS101 Articles: 12/18/2024 (Jesuits, Sensory Stimulants, Catholics, Scientology, Andrew Cohen)


Jesuits, Sensory Stimulants, Catholics, Scientology, Andrew Cohen

JSTOR: Making Scents of Jesuit Missionary Work
The use of sensory stimulants like incense gave Jesuits a common framework with the North American nations they encountered on missionary trips.

"Missionaries operating in cultures very different than their own often find themselves trying to communicate across a wide gulf. For Jesuits who arrived in parts of North America claimed by France in the seventeenth century, writes historian Andrew Kettler, one thing that helped bridge the gap was the fact that they and the Indigenous societies they hoped to convert to Catholicism shared a deep respect for the power of scent.

Kettler writes that, from the beginning, smells played a significant role
Catholicism. Incense was a crucial part of the immersive experience of worship. Pleasing or terrible smells could also signify holiness or evil. For example, when the fifteenth-century saint Lydwine of Schiedam became gravely ill, she was said to have vomited out parts of her internal organs, which emitted holy scents.

The Reformation called for controlling the "lower" senses of smell and taste, replacing sensual aspects of Catholic worship with the reading of scripture. But the Jesuits continued to valorize the sense of smell, using multi-sensory stimuli including scents during their periods of seclusion and arguing that a sufficiently purified person could recognize good and evil on Earth by their respectively sweet and sulfurous scents.

Kettler writes that the Jesuits who arrived in "New France" in 1625 followed the networks created by French fur traders toward the interior. They set up their central mission, Saint-Marie, on Huron land. As they introduced themselves to Native nations across the region, they marveled at the Indigenous people's sensory capacities, particularly their ability to locate fires from a great distance away. The Italian Jesuit missionary Francesco Giuseppe Bressani described people he encountered as having 'a rare sense of smell.'"

Where Peter Is: What Faithful Catholics can learn from Ex-Scientologists
" ... Mike Rinder's journey from a high-ranking official in Scientology to a vocal critic offers valuable insights for faithful Catholics. His story underscores the importance of discernment and personal integrity in one's faith journey. Rinder's eventual departure from Scientology, prompted by his recognition of systemic abuses, highlights the necessity of critically evaluating our own religious leaders — as well as our groups and practices — to ensure that we aren't being coerced or manipulated into unhealthy spiritual practices and ways of thinking.

As Catholics, it is important to engage in continuous self-examination and to uphold the moral principles of our faith, even when faced with institutional challenges. Rinder's advocacy for transparency and accountability resonates with the Catholic call for transparency and accountability from our leaders within the Church and the broader community. His commitment to exposing wrongdoing, despite personal costs, exemplifies the courage required to confront issues that may arise within any religious institution. Ultimately, Rinder's experience encourages Catholics to balance faithful adherence with critical reflection.

I have argued in the past that although Catholicism as a whole is not a cult, there are many cult-like groups within Catholicism. Identifying and exposing spiritually abusive groups and leaders is absolutely necessary for the health of our Church. Rinder's work serves to remind us of this principle.
But the most important lesson we might take from Mike Rinder's life journey is that people can change. After spending most of his life working on behalf of a destructive and corrupt organization, he spent his final years working to bring the truth to light.

One of the most poignant moments for me in watching Scientology and the Aftermath was in the final episode of season one, in which cult expert and former Moonie Dr. Steven Hassan was interviewed. After describing cult mind-control tactics in groups like Scientology and the Moonies, Hassan remarked that he had seen every episode of the program to that point, and then he started to become emotional. Hassan said, "Scientology has threatened me, gone through my trash … They've had people in Nazi uniforms picketing outside my office, telling my neighbors that I'm evil person, I'm an anti-religious bigot."

He then turned and looked directly at Mike Rinder and said, "I have to say, I was scared shitless of you for so many years. I love that you are modeling for ex-members of thousands of other cults that you can be a leader. You can do horrible things and you can wake up and be a human being. … I just think that what you're doing is heroic."

He then turned and looked directly at Mike Rinder and said, "I have to say, I was scared shitless of you for so many years. I love that you are modeling for ex-members of thousands of other cults that you can be a leader. You can do horrible things and you can wake up and be a human being. … I just think that what you're doing is heroic."
I have been moved deeply by the stories of Catholics who have had the courage to speak out after leaving high-control groups in the Church, from charismatic communities to the traditionalist movement. Speaking out for the truth comes at a high cost. These are the people "who hunger and thirst for righteousness." Jesus said they will be satisfied."

Arkansas Times: Former cult leader's name still on public art in downtown Little Rock
"A disgraced former cult leader's name is still on a piece of public art in Little Rock, despite a city spokesperson's assurance in July that the name would be removed.

"Responding is spirit in action. We are the change agents that give rise to the possibilities that don't exist," the quote reads. Engraved on a basalt pillar in Inspiration Plaza, the newest piece of public art in downtown Little Rock, the quote and its origins are puzzling.

The quote is attributed to a man named Andrew Cohen — a self-proclaimed guru and spiritual teacher accused of physical and mental abuse and financial exploitation by many of his former students and followers, including his own mother — but it isn't clear if he ever actually said it.

So why is the quote etched in stone in a statue garden by the Arkansas River? Because At-Large City Director Dean Kumpuris' wife chose it. (This article from July will catch you up on the convoluted details.)
Essentially, Cohen's name made it all the way on to the statue, seemingly without anyone checking who he is, if the quote is his, or if the quote is even real. During our reporting, a spokesperson for the Little Rock Parks and Recreation Department provided a statement that said the city would replace Cohen's name with "Anonymous" but leave the quote itself intact, since staff liked its message and, in researching it, could not find where it came from."

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Feb 23, 2024

Ex-Catholics in Rome reconnect with roots, spirituality in paganism

As Romans search for alternatives to Catholicism, some have turned to Jupiter, Minerva and Juno.

Claire Giangravé
Religion News Service
February 21, 2024

VATICAN CITY (RNS) — Disillusioned by their experiences in Catholicism, some Romans are turning to paganism and finding a connection to their roots through worshipping the gods of antiquity, whom they see as more welcoming than the church.

“Rome is pagan,” Pope Francis told members of the Roman clergy during a closed-door meeting Jan. 14, when he urged them to consider the city a mission territory. Asked about the pope’s surprising words a few weeks later, the head of the department for catechesis of the Diocese of Rome, the Rev. Andrea Camillini, admitted: “Rome is at the same time pagan and the city of the pope: It’s a paradoxical city.”

The number of practicing Catholics in Italy has plummeted after the COVID-19 lockdowns to an all-time low. The Italian National Institute of Statistics found that only 19% of Italians were practicing Catholics in 2022, compared with 36% in the previous 10 years. The number of people who “never practice” their faith has doubled to 31% in the historically Catholic country.

While the church grapples with the causes behind the emptying pews, some who have left their Catholic faith behind are searching for other spiritual outlets. An eclectic group of Romans who gathered near the ancient Forum on a windy morning on Feb. 10 have turned to Juno, Jupiter and Apollo to find answers.

“I was a practicing Christian Catholic for many years. I was a catechist,” Luca Fizzarotti, who recently started attending the ancient Roman rituals, told Religion News Service. “Then I had a spiritual crisis when I moved in with my wife. I had a very bad experience and had to leave my church,” he said.

A computer programmer, Fizzarotti fell in love with a woman who believes in Kemetic Orthodoxy, based on the ancient Egyptian religious faith. “In the beginning I could not really understand this, then as I slowly learned about the pagan community, I found a way to live out my spirituality,” he said.

Paganism — though sometimes used as a derogatory shorthand for anyone who does not worship the Abrahamic god of Judaism, Islam and Christianity — is an umbrella term that encompasses a number of religious traditions, many of them polytheistic. Ancient Romans worshipped a pantheon of gods, mainly Jupiter, Juno, Apollo and Minerva, through rituals and observations with activities than included animal sacrifice and temple worship.

Fizzarotti was among a dozen people who gathered for the early February ritual, organized by the Communitas Populi Romani, a community started in 2013 by a group of young enthusiasts of Roman history, culture and religion.

In the beginning, the group focused on reenactments and history, but it slowly shifted toward becoming an officially recognized religious group. There are 20 or so members, said Donatella Ertola, who joined the group in 2015 and now organizes meetings three or four times a month in the places that are closest to the original temples spread across Rome.

“We all believe in the gods, we make rituals at home, we have devotion temples at home, we have our priests and officiants,” she told RNS, adding that this is a “niche community that has been growing recently.”

Communitas is hardly the only Roman religion organization in Rome or Italy. Groups like Pietas in Rome have larger memberships and even their own temples. According to a 2017 study by the Center for Studies on New Religions in Turin, the number of neopagans in Italy has grown to more than 230,000 people, a 143% increase over 10 years. In the United States there are 1.5 million pagans, according to a 2018 Pew Research Center survey, a significant increase compared with 134,000 in 2001.

The draw of the Roman religion is clear for many modern-day Italians, who view it as a way to reconnect with their ancient roots. Fascination with ancient Rome has also become a worldwide phenomenon. A social media trend last year found a staggering and surprising number of people — especially men — think about the ancient Roman Empire at least once a day.

“I was looking for something that monotheism didn’t give me,” said Antony Meloni, an airport construction worker. “I found in polytheism a new strength,” he added.

There is no religious text in the Roman religion, meaning faithful today must rely on what was written by people of the time. Communitas attempts to re-create the ancient rituals, without any human or animal sacrifice, of course, using ancient texts.

The group gathered that day to celebrate Juno Sospita, or Juno the Savior, whose temple once stood a few steps away, where the Church of St. Nickolas in Chains is located today. The original columns are still visible. She is usually shown as a warrior, lance in hand, and covered with goat skins and historically celebrated in February, considered a month of purification by the Romans, as winter turned to spring.

They follow the description of a ritual offered by Cato the Elder in the “De Agricultura.” It starts off with an offering to the local “genus,” or spirit, followed by ablutions with water and incense. During the central part of the ceremony, the “Favete Linguis,” faithful are asked to “hold their tongues” and quiet their minds.

Amid the chaos of Roman traffic and the occasional bark of their mascot — the dog Poldo, who has two different-colored eyes — the group shouted prayers in Latin. Two nuns, dressed in black, looked over suspiciously. Wearing a white veil, the officiant May Rega, scoffed with annoyance.

Rega was an active member of her church in Naples and sang in the choir, but she also drifted away from Catholicism due to ruptures with the church and its congregants. As an archaeologist, she loves how specific and detailed Roman religion is, forcing one to check sources, follow the ritual precisely, with no mistakes and with the appropriate citations.

She had carefully put together the flowers, scones and almond milk — because she could not find goat’s milk — for the ceremony and was annoyed when her boyfriend and concelebrant, Daniele Pieri, interrupted the ritual, forcing them to start over.

“When I met her, she said, ‘I am pagan and vegan,’ and I thought ‘Great! I am celiac!’” said Pieri, who works as a sound technician. Pieri left the Catholic Church after the parish priest insisted he could not be harmed by receiving Communion despite being celiac. He said he still has an admiration for Jesus: “If Jesus had prayed to Jupiter, he would have been even cooler.”

For Pieri, Roman religion is a question of identity. “I love this city. I was born in this city, and I want to die in this city,” he said. “When I began to study Roman history and these cults, I found my roots. This is where I come from. This is who I am.”

Taking turns, the members of the Communitas made their personal offering to the goddess. Unlike other pagan communities in Rome, the group doesn’t have any initiation rite, and everyone is welcome to join. “The Roman religion is not about saying these are my gods, and there are no others,” Pieri explained.

Chiara Aliboni is a student of history, anthropology and religions from a “very Catholic family” in Perugia was also attending the ceremony. She said she had her conversion to Orthodox Kemetism when she learned about the ancient Egyptians. “I thought, if I am to follow any religion, it’s this one,” she said. While hesitant at first, she found in the Communitas a welcoming home for her beliefs.

Fizzarotti was also pleasantly surprised by the openness of this religion compared with his experiences in the Catholic Church. “I am drawing closer to this community. I am finding many answers that I have been searching for for years,” he said after the rite was completed, and the group reveled in wine and an improvised banquet.

“I am feeling emotional. I deeply felt today’s ritual. It was truly beautiful,” he added.

The group members gathered their things, leaving nothing behind but the lingering scent of incense. They spoke of plans for creating a temple one day just outside Rome and of upcoming gatherings with other pagan groups. Their faith, believed to have been long lost, is still very much alive, they said.

For Camillini, as the number of Catholics dwindles in the Eternal City, he has had to face reality. “It’s time to give up the delusion of omnipotence, of evangelizing Rome, and abandon the idea of making Rome into a Christian city. It’s no longer our objective and it never was,” he said.



https://religionnews.com/2024/02/21/ex-catholics-in-rome-reconnect-with-roots-spirituality-in-paganism/

Jan 29, 2024

Washington state reintroduces child abuse reporting bill despite previous Catholic opposition

Wilson Criscione
Oregon Public Broadcasting
(InvestigateWest)
January 28, 2024

State lawmakers hope a compromise in the proposed legislation will get Catholic lobbyists on board, a year after a similar bill died over the church’s backlash

After failing a year ago, Washington state lawmakers are trying again this session to pass a bill that would make clergy mandatory reporters of child abuse or neglect.

Senate Bill 6298 would add clergy to the list of mandatory reporters in Washington. And the bill’s main sponsor, state Sen. Noel Frame, D-Seattle, hopes a compromise regarding whether clergy should still report information obtained during a confession will be enough to win over Catholic lobbyists, who proved to be the main obstacle to passing the law last year.

“I cannot handle the idea that a member of a faith community, a leader in a faith community, would stand on the sidelines when they believe a child is at imminent risk of abuse or harm,” Frame said in a legislative committee hearing discussing the bill Thursday. “I really hope this is the middle path.”

Washington is now one of five states where clergy are not mandated reporters of child abuse or neglect, according to a federal agency that tracks such laws.

Both the state House and Senate passed versions of a bill last year that would change that. The chambers, however, couldn’t agree on whether clergy should still be obligated to report allegations if they learn the information during a religious confession. The House, in a bipartisan vote, passed a version without any exemption for confessions, but the Democrat-led Senate couldn’t agree to go that far.

Nationwide, of the 45 states in which clergy are mandated reporters, only seven states have removed that loophole.

Frame, a survivor of childhood sexual abuse who introduced the bill last year after reading InvestigateWest’s reporting on sexual abuse cover-ups among Jehovah’s Witnesses, said she knew the 2023 bill was dead when the Washington State Catholic Conference wouldn’t agree to a last-minute compromise. In an interview this week, Frame said their opposition signaled to lawmakers who were religious — Catholic or not — that the bill would somehow violate one’s religious beliefs.

“They did not feel comfortable going against that signal, which is why I felt compelled to find agreement with the Catholic Conference,” Frame said. “Not because everybody here is Catholic, but because it was a proxy for other people with other faith traditions.”

SB 6298 would strike a similar compromise as the one Frame proposed late in the 2023 session. That compromise would have kept the exemption for confessions but create a “duty to warn” authorities — law enforcement or the Washington Department of Children, Youth and Families — if clergy reasonably believed a child is at imminent risk of abuse or neglect, even if that belief comes from information obtained “wholly or in part” from a confession.

This year’s bill leaves out the word “wholly,” meaning clergy would not be obligated to either report suspected child abuse or warn authorities that a child may be in danger unless some of the information that raised concerns was obtained outside a confessional setting.

“It’s a slight modification, but a meaningful one,” Frame said.

It may not be meaningful enough for the Roman Catholic Church. Jean Hill, executive director of the Washington State Catholic Conference, tells InvestigateWest, “We believe our clergy are mandatory reporters,” except regarding information obtained in a sacramental confession. The section of the bill requiring a duty to warn based on information even partially obtained through a confession, she said, “could require breaking the seal of confession,” adding that it “raises significant First Amendment concerns for us.”

In Thursday’s hearing, Hill said the Catholic Conference supports the motivation behind the bill, but reiterated that she was still concerned it could require priests to break the seal of confession if they are called to a courtroom to testify what led to their belief a child was in danger. Frame clarified that nothing in this bill changes a different part of state law that exempts clergy from having to testify in court.

Meanwhile, some lawmakers, sexual abuse survivors and activists wish the bill didn’t include a loophole for confessions at all.

Tim Law, co-founder of a nonprofit called Ending Clergy Abuse that aims to protect children from sexual abuse by the Roman Catholic Church, spoke out against the bill, arguing the compromise is a “capitulation to the churches.”

“Clergy need to be mandatory reporters, without exception,” Law said.

Former Jehovah’s Witnesses who left the religion over their concerns with sexual abuse cover-ups say that clergy may exploit a confession exception to hide allegations because the church has a broader definition of sacred communications.

InvestigateWest previously reported on several examples since the 1970s in which Jehovah’s Witness elders kept child sexual abuse allegations hidden from authorities even when the information had been presented to multiple church leaders. Today, that remains legal under Washington state law.

Frame, however, said that the definition of the confession exemption is narrow enough in this year’s bill to address those concerns. The bill only exempts abuse or neglect allegations shared with clergy if they’re spoken privately to an individual member of the clergy, intended to be a confidential “act of contrition or a matter of conscience,” and done in a setting in which clergy are “specifically and strictly under a level of confidentiality that is considered inviolate by religious doctrine of the member of the clergy.” If the same allegations are also shared outside a confessional setting, the exemption does not apply.

On Thursday, two former Jehovah’s Witnesses who have spoken out against sexual abuse cover-ups within the church said they supported the bill, even if confessions remained exempt from reporting requirements.

Frame said she remains personally opposed to any confession exemption. But she said she’d rather find a middle ground than not have clergy listed as mandatory reporters at all.

“I’m wildly uncomfortable with this,” Frame said. “But I am doing it because survivors are asking me to not let perfect be the enemy of good.”

InvestigateWest (invw.org) is an independent news nonprofit dedicated to investigative journalism in the Pacific Northwest. Reporter Wilson Criscione can be reached at wilson@invw.org.



https://www.opb.org/article/2024/01/28/washington-reintroduces-chlid-abuse-reporting-bill/

Jul 20, 2023

Abuse report from global Catholic group Focolare leaves many questions unanswered

FEDERICA TOURN
GORDON URQUHART
National Catholic Reporter
July 17, 2023

The Focolare movement, one of the largest lay organizations in the Catholic Church with members in countries across the world, published its first report on cases of sexual abuse of minors and vulnerable adults within its ranks on March 31.

The report, which was done internally and not by an independent firm, focuses on accounts of abuse received by the movement's Commission for the Welfare and Safeguarding of Members from 2014 to 2022. The findings indicate that from 1969-2012, 66 members of the global movement were accused of abusing 42 minors (29 between the ages of 14 and 18, and 13 under the age of 14) and 17 vulnerable adults.

Founded in 1943 by the Italian laywoman Chiara Lubich and approved by the Vatican in 1962, the Focolare movement has its headquarters in Rocca di Papa, near Rome, and is present in 182 countries. It was the first of a wave of so-called "new movements" much favored by Pope John Paul II that experienced remarkable growth during his reign. (Other such movements included the Neocatechumenal Way and Communion and Liberation).

Focolare members, known as focolarini, live in community, can be married, and take vows of chastity, poverty and obedience. Stefania Tanesini, a Focolare spokesperson, told NCR that vowed members include about 4,300 women and 2,540 men globally. The movement claims online that some 2 million people are more generally involved in its work.

This new internal report was released a year after the publication of an independent investigation into a former French consecrated member of the movement, Jean-Michel Merlin, who was responsible for abusing at least 37 boys since at least the 1960s.

Merlin, despite undergoing a criminal investigation in the 1990s for alleged sexual assault, had continued to have leading roles in the movement until 2016, when he was finally dismissed from Focolare. This was a major scandal, which forced Focolare president Margaret Karram and co-president Fr. Jesús Morán Cepedano to investigate the presence of sexual abuse throughout the movement.

Christophe Renaudin, the first person to formally accuse Merlin of abuse in 1994, under civil legislation in France, told NCR he considers the report "a smoke and mirrors operation to give the impression that something is being done but the reality is that the movement couldn't care less about the victims."

Renaudin spoke to NCR after meeting in-person with Karram and Morán in June 2023. Renaudin said he had asked Morán in 2016 to conduct an investigation about abuse within the movement, and waited years for a response.

Just as in the case of the church as a whole, this report makes it clear that it is possible that sexual abuse is systemic in the Focolare movement — as it has already revealed so many cases across the world. And with, at least so far, little research: just one year of work. In the case of Merlin, the independent firm undertaking the investigation, the UK-based GCPS Consulting, had to ask for more time because the time allotted for the investigation, also a year, was insufficient.

Although the internal report might give a good impression to readers, it provides only the numbers of those said to be abused. It omits the names of abusers, and the places and dates where and when the abuses happened. All we are told is that some of the cases date back to 1969. The sources of the allegations are not specified. Were they dusted off from files where they had deliberately been hidden for decades?

Karram and Morán did not respond to repeated requests for comment for this article. The Vatican's Dicastery for Laity, Family and Life, the office responsible for lay movements, also did not respond to requests for comment.

According to the GCPS report, "The Movement for a long time was more concerned with protecting the perpetrators, and thereby its own reputation, rather than supporting the victims. In this way, [Jean Michel Merlin] benefited for years from a system protecting him; at the same time, the Focolare Movement systematically failed the victims." The report also speaks of "reported cases of abuse including sexual, emotional, spiritual, and financial" abuse.

The report quotes a witness who explained how Merlin "was seducing the parents, he was the family friend, the confidant, sometimes a sponsor." According to GCPS, "Profiles of perpetrators [in all forms of abuse in the Movement] reported by the different individuals are often similar to JMM - charismatic people idolized by others, seen as central, untouchable, morally irreproachable, and trustworthy. The different situations described follow similar patterns of abuse of power, psychological dependence and adoration."

Just prior to the release of the Focolare abuse report, one of Pope Francis' major reforms for how the Vatican handles cases of abuse, the motu proprio Vos Estis Lux Mundi, was made permanent on March 25.

The law, which outlines the procedure for accusations of abuse and mishandling or cover-ups of such cases by bishops or other leaders in the church, was also updated. One of the most important changes is that the law now also applies to Vatican-approved lay associations.

The reason for this change was likely due in part to the scandal surrounding Jean Vanier, the founder of the L'Arche Community, who for years had been regarded in the church as a living saint. After his death, evidence emerged that Vanier had been part of a ring of sex abusers in the French Catholic Church.

Doubtless the case of Merlin in France was also taken into consideration in updating the motu proprio. Vos Estis takes a strong line on cases where leaders of lay movements have covered up abuse, stating that these leaders would be "punished."

But the Focolare report on abuse, as it was published in March, effectively ensures that such cover-ups cannot be identified.

In response to questions about why the report does not identify the names of alleged abusers, Fr. Joachim Schwind, head of communications for the Focolare movement, told NCR: "We did not give names to guarantee the privacy of the people involved. We want transparency, but also to safeguard everyone's rights."

But whose privacy and whose rights? This should certainly apply to the abused — but the abusers? How many such cases still exist in the movement? How many predators still operate freely in their large youth congresses, while young people and families remain unaware of the dangers?

Vos Estis addresses the cover-up of abuse cases by Catholic leaders. But such cover-up is also a serious crime in civil law in many countries, and can make Catholic leaders accessories to the abuse committed by perpetrators.

It is significant that Francis himself — who has been considerably more critical of Focolare and similar movements in contrast to the unbridled, possibly reckless, enthusiasm of predecessors John Paul II and Benedict XVI — told Focolare leaders during a private audience in February 2021 that "avoidance of all self-absorption, which never comes from the good spirit, is our hope for the whole Church: to beware of self-centeredness, which always leads to defending the institution to the detriment of individuals, and which can also lead to justifying or covering up forms of abuse."



https://www.ncronline.org/news/abuse-report-global-catholic-group-focolare-leaves-many-questions-unanswered

Apr 10, 2023

What’s Behind the Fight Between Pope Francis and the Latin Mass Movement?

The discord has become a stand-in for conflicts over the decline in Catholics' participation in Mass, over the progressive orientation of Francis's pontificate, and over Vatican II itself.



Paul Elie
The New Yorker
April 9, 2023

 

On January 15, 2022, the Catholic archbishop of San Francisco, Salvatore Cordileone, celebrated Mass at St. Patrick's Old Cathedral, at Mott and Prince Streets, in Manhattan. The cathedral, erected in 1815, is the predecessor to the present cathedral on Fifth Avenue, and it puts in mind the Catholicism of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when Irish, German, Italian, and Polish immigrants settled in great numbers in New York City. The Mass itself also called Catholic history to mind: it was the "Mass for the Americas," a work for choir and orchestra commissioned by Archbishop Cordileone and incorporating texts in English, Spanish, Latin, and Nahuatl—the Indigenous language spoken by Juan Diego, whose visions of the Virgin Mary in Guadalupe, in 1531, figure into the foundation story of Catholicism in Mexico.

Cordileone, clean-shaven, wearing a white cassock edged with lace, offered the Eucharistic prayers in Latin while facing away from the congregation, as priests did prior to the Second Vatican Council, which concluded in 1965. In doing so, he took a stand in an unlikely pair of controversies. By facing the altar, he affirmed the prerogatives of a movement of Catholics devoted to the Latin Mass—a movement that has met resistance at the Vatican under Pope Francis. Cordileone, who was unvaccinated and did not wear a mask, was also defying a covid-19 city ordinance compelling venues hosting public gatherings to require masks or proof of vaccination.

Since then, the controversies have hardened into direct conflict. The Traditional Latin Mass, long a source of sustenance for Catholics leery of the reforms of Vatican II, is now a focal point for Catholics who disdain Pope Francis. The death, in December, of Benedict XVI, the Pope emeritus, left Catholic traditionalists without a champion in Rome. Benedict's views on the Mass were complex, but his preference for Baroque vestments (red slippers, a gold-threaded cope) had made him a figurehead for old-school Catholicism; his long efforts to close a breach between the Vatican and the Society of St. Pius X—a cadre of Latin-reciting priests whose leaders were excommunicated in 1988—had emboldened the T.L.M. movement, and a directive he issued in 2007 had quickened the movement's spread. Then, in early February, the publication of a leaked report from an F.B.I. branch office declaring that Latin Mass enclaves in Virginia harbored antisemites and members of the "far-right white nationalist movement" led traditionalists to claim that a religion-averse deep state was targeting them, and the Bureau's retraction of the report soon afterward (it did "not meet the exacting standards of the F.B.I.," the Bureau said in a statement) only sharpened their sense of themselves as a persecuted minority.

Above all, a pair of terse "instructions" issued by Francis have stirred opposition. In July, 2021, the Pope required priests who wish to celebrate the old Mass to seek permission from their bishops, compelled the bishops to get clearance from the Vatican (which Benedict's directive did not do), and forbade bishops to authorize the founding of Latin Mass groups in individual dioceses, which would serve to build up the movement as an alternative form of weekly worship. In February, he reiterated that position. The instructions were meant to tamp down the T.L.M. movement lest it deepen, as Francis put it, "the peril of division" in the Church. But, by requiring a bishop's permission, they gave fresh authority to the bishops who cherish T.L.M.—such as Cordileone and Michael F. Burbidge, in Arlington, Virginia—and prompted Latin Mass enthusiasts to decry a Vatican crackdown on true believers. They also undermined the image of Francis as a "pastoral" Pope who urges Catholics to go "to the margins" and uses a personal touch to bridge the gaps between doctrine and practice, and they drew the expressly forward-looking Pope deeper into a sustained conflict about the status of the Catholic past.

On the surface, it's hard to see what all the fuss is about. Latin Mass adherents are a tiny minority of practicing Catholics, and most Church traditionalists—bishops, priests, and laypeople alike—are content to take part in Masses offered in the language they speak in everyday life. (In the Archdiocese of New York, Mass is offered in more than a dozen languages.) But the T.L.M. conflict has become a stand-in for other conflicts: over the decline in Catholics' participation in Mass and the quality of the liturgy; over the outward-facing, progressive orientation of Francis's pontificate; and over Vatican II itself, which traditionalists see not as a thoroughgoing reform but as something between a modest course correction and a betrayal of the Church's patrimony.

For many centuries, especially after the Council of Trent concluded in 1563, the Latin Mass, celebrated according to strict rubrics under the supervision of Rome, was the main thing that all Catholics had in common, and a sign of their difference in the eyes of the wider world. During the suppression of Roman Catholicism under Queen Elizabeth I, Jesuits in England celebrated Latin Mass in secret—and some who were caught were hanged, drawn, and quartered. Charles Dickens, in "Pictures from Italy," describes arriving in Modena on a Sunday in 1844 and stepping "into a dim cathedral, where High Mass was performing, feeble tapers were burning, people were kneeling in all directions before all manner of shrines, and officiating priests were crooning the usual chant, in the usual low, dull, drawling, melancholy tone." In Graham Greene's "The Heart of the Matter," Henry Scobie, at Mass with his wife while carrying on an affair with a younger woman, wonders whether he is damned: "Hoc est enim Corpus: the bell rang, and Father Rank raised God in his fingers—this God as light now as a wafer whose coming lay on Scobie's heart as heavily as lead." In "The Godfather," the grisly murders of various dons are intercut with scenes from a baptism during a Latin Mass. The lyrics that Bono sang in U2's breakthrough video "Gloria"—"Gloria, in te domine / Gloria, exultate"—echo the Latin Mass, and countless other baby-boom Catholics have characterized regular immersion in the old Latin rite as the formative experience of their childhood. "Dominus vobiscum. Et cum spiritu tuo," Anna Quindlen wrote in the Times, in 1986. "These are my bona fides: a word, a phrase, a sentence in a language no one speaks anymore."

By then, the Latin Mass was twenty years out of use. The vast renewal of Catholic life and practice brought about through the Second Vatican Council began with the reform of the liturgy, building on several decades of efforts inspired by historical research or trends in the arts. Moving the altar away from the far wall; turning the priest to face the people; shifting the proceedings from Latin to the vernacular (a Latinate word for the everyday language of a people or region); enjoining people to recite the prayers themselves, rather than just listen to the priest murmur Latin words they barely understood—all these reforms were meant to elicit a "full and active participation" in the liturgy. The new approach began to be instituted in 1965. Plenty of people complained. A 1969 papal document—with the Latin title "Novus Ordo"—reaffirmed the changes. A sense of grievance became a sense of loss, which Garry Wills described in his book "Bare Ruined Choirs" (1972): "Even the Mass, the central and most stable shared act of the church, had become unrecognizable to many—a thing of guitars instead of the organ, of English instead of Latin, of youth-culture fads instead of ancient rites." The essayist Richard Rodriguez, a decade later, observed: "No longer is the congregation moved to a contemplation of the timeless. Rather, it is the idiomatic one hears. One's focus is upon this place. This time. The moment. Now."

Yet the new center held. The folk-Mass trend subsided. Tasteful, historically evocative vernacular Masses emerged, some flecked with Latin here and there. Pope John Paul II, who was deeply traditional in matters of doctrine and morality, led open-air Masses that were profoundly nontraditional: huge crowds, people waving banners and snapping photos, the Pope sporting regional garb (a headdress in Mexico, a staff and shield in Kenya) and reading from scripts in local languages. Two generations of Catholics came of age with no memory of the old ways. The ads in the Saturday Times announcing "Traditional Latin Masses" at a chapel on Long Island seemed like postings of a secret society.

In a way, they were, but the T.L.M. movement grew and came in from the cold, stimulated by forces akin to those which had led to the doing away of it in the first place. Some Catholics found the no-longer-new vernacular Mass rote and dispiriting. The thirty-five-year run of John Paul and Benedict tilted the clergy rightward, and many of the most ardent Catholics in those years were the most traditional ones, who sought out the Latin Mass for the qualities celebrated in literature, music, and art, as well as in the vast corpus of Catholic thought prior to 1965.

It was no surprise that many such people would be conservative politically or that they would see the government as hostile to religion—a tendency heightened during the pandemic, when New York and other states imposed stricter restrictions on gatherings at churches than in supermarkets or restaurants. Nor was it a surprise that the archbishop most prominent in the effort for liturgical restoration, Cordileone, was the one who tangled most visibly with a progressive Catholic politician, telling Nancy Pelosi, whose congressional district includes San Francisco, that he would withhold Communion from her at any Mass where he was presiding because of her support for legal abortion. Six months after celebrating the Mass of the Americas, in Manhattan, Cordileone led a simplified "parish version" at the Meritage Resort and Spa, in California's Napa Valley, during the summer conference of the Napa Institute—a deep-pocketed traditionalist advocacy group that has sponsored and funded a range of T.L.M. initiatives alongside its own efforts to build Catholic support for an unregulated free-market economy and to reshape the Supreme Court along traditionalist Catholic lines.

And the T.L.M. movement's association with antisemitism is not completely a figment of an F.B.I. field officer's imagination: shortly after Pope Benedict welcomed the schismatic Society of St. Pius X back into the Catholic fold in January, 2009, an interview from a few days earlier surfaced, in which its leader, Bishop Richard Williamson, denied the reality of the Holocaust. "I believe there were no gas chambers," he said. (The Vatican suspended him from priestly duties, and he was later ousted from the Society.) The broader movement is clearly distinct from the S.S.P.X., but Pope Francis is not wrong to see the movement, even at its most benign, as a challenge to Catholic unity in general and to his pontificate in particular. And yet it's also true that a range of dynamic movements within Catholicism—for gay rights, for women's ordination, for more open church governance—could be seen by some as threats to the unity of the Church. That's not a sound reason to suppress them, and, more than those movements, the T.L.M. has a definite precedent in past Catholic practices.

What, then, should Francis do about it? His three-day stay in the hospital prior to Holy Week (he had bronchitis, a spokesman said) served to focus public attention on the limitations imposed by his age—he is eighty-six—and his precarious health. La Croix's Vatican correspondent, Robert Mickens, mused that "perhaps it is time for him to start expending his energy more strategically." In the past year, Francis has deepened ties with Muslim leaders, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the government of China, among other entities. Now he could seek rapprochement with the T.L.M. movement, reaching out to traditionalists in the Church he leads.

There's no need for Francis to make a journey or appoint a commission; he could do it right from his desk. In his role as the bishop of Rome, he could authorize a Latin Mass celebrated by a bishop who shares his outlook—say, Cardinal Arthur Roche, who leads the dicastery that oversees liturgical matters—thus decoupling the T.L.M. movement from the opposition to his pontificate. He could make sure the T.L.M. gets some attention at the synod in Rome this October, which is meant to be a space for dialogue among Church leaders. Or he could do the kind of things he has done to affirm the value of other movements—invite a Latin-loving bishop for a photo op at his desk, or make a vague but appreciative remark in an interview. At the moment, the T.L.M. movement is still on the margins of the Church; to keep it there, paradoxically, Francis has to go to the margins and engage with it personally. ♦

 

 

https://www.newyorker.com/news/daily-comment/whats-behind-the-fight-between-pope-francis-and-the-latin-mass-movement

Feb 13, 2023

French religious orders demand change over L'Arche abuses

Nicole Winfield, The Associated Press
Toronto City News
February 9, 2023,

VATICAN CITY (AP) — The umbrella group of Catholic religious orders in France is demanding church authorities assume responsibility for horrific evidence of sexual, spiritual and psychological abuse in L’Arche, once a preeminent lay community dedicated to people with developmental disabilities.

Sister Veronique Margron, president of the conference of religious orders in France, issued a devastating analysis Thursday of the implications of the findings of a two-year investigation into L’Arche, its founder, Jean Vanier, and his spiritual guru, the Rev. Thomas Philippe.

The 437-page report, published on Jan. 30, offers a detailed forensic study of how Vanier created a secretive “sect” within the heart of the Catholic Church designed entirely to feed his sexual appetites through “collective delirium” and mystical-sexual practices that he justified on spiritual grounds.

Using seduction, manipulation, secrecy and coercion, the charismatic Vanier initiated as many as 25 young women into the “mystico-sexual practices” of the sect within L’Arche, convincing them of his sanctity while abusing them sexually and spiritually, the report found.

In a statement on Thursday, Margron said the report prompted questions about the Catholic Church’s “entire ecclesial, theological and pastoral culture, since it has been the breeding ground for abuse, manipulation, aggression, lies and even death.”

She said the report also laid bare how secrecy, and “the great silence” by the Vatican had enabled the “gnostic delusions” of Vanier and Philippe, as well as their impunity and abuse.

Philippe, who was subjected to a canonical trial for abuse and false mysticism in the 1950s, died in 1993. Varnier died in 2019; the following year, L’Arche came out with a preliminary report detailing the abuses he committed as founder of L’Arche.

The organization commissioned the more ample report from six researchers in different disciplines — history, sociology, psychiatry, psychoanalysis and theology. They conducted 119 interviews and had access to church archives, including from the then Holy Office investigation into Philippe.

The findings are the latest to document cases of sexual and spiritual abuse of adult women by priests or charismatic lay leaders, which the Vatican has long dismissed as mere “boundary violations” by otherwise chaste men.

Recently, in an interview with The Associated Press, Pope Francis acknowledged how women can be abused by these “seducing” personalities who manipulate their victims on spiritual grounds to take advantage of them sexually.

https://toronto.citynews.ca/2023/02/09/french-religious-orders-demand-change-over-larche-abuses/

Jul 27, 2021

These Australians were cast out by their religions. But they have no regrets

RN Religion & Ethics reporter Nick Baker
ABC Radio National
July 24, 2021

After taking on one the world's most powerful institutions, Peter Kennedy has spent more than a decade living "in exile".

But that's exactly where the 83-year-old wants to be.

Mr Kennedy was a well-known Brisbane Catholic priest, but after challenging church orthodoxy and practising his own controversial brand of Catholicism, was dismissed in 2009.

He says he has now moved far away from the Catholic Church.

"I don't believe in the Catholic Church or even the Christian faith. For me, I think it's really all about justice. It's all about the poor and the broken."

Mr Kennedy is part of a small group of Australians who have been cast out of their religions.

For some, it's a badge of honour after a long fight. For others, it can be a deeply traumatising event.

"It was not easy ... but I have no regrets at all," Mr Kennedy says.

"I'm very glad for this journey."
From Catholicism to 'finding your own truth'

For years, Mr Kennedy made headlines for deviating from Roman Catholic practices at St Mary's church in South Brisbane, including allowing women to preach and blessing LGBTQIA+ couples.

After repeated warnings and attempts at conciliation, church authorities removed Mr Kennedy from office, so he and his flock set up a separate faith entity called St Mary's in Exile.

Described as "a pop-up church", St Mary's in Exile meets every weekend in the Queensland Trades and Labour Council Building, and is far more progressive than its Catholic namesake.

"We said we won't go down that toxic, patriarchal path … We changed the sexist language, we've had women leading and co-leading liturgy," explains Mr Kennedy's co-agitator, Terry Fitzpatrick.

Mr Fitzpatrick was an associate priest at St Mary's who stood by Mr Kennedy, so was also removed by the Catholic Church and is now with St Mary's in Exile.

"[The Catholic Church] just doesn't seem to be looking towards the future," he says.

For these former Catholic priests, the scriptures were "never meant to be taken literally". Instead, it's all about exploring the metaphorical messages and "finding your own truth".

Mr Kennedy says in his later years, he's been drawn to "the mystics and mysticism" and its focus on individualism and contemplation.

The same goes for Mr Fitzpatrick, who says he follows "mysticism and the Gnostic Christians, the non-literalist Christians that were persecuted by the literalist Christians in the early church system".

But while Mr Kennedy and Mr Fitzpatrick had an entire community support them as they left their religion and started on a new path, other Australians go through this in a much lonelier way.

For some, the process can lead to years – or even a lifetime – of struggle.
Losing family and friends

When Paul Grundy was expelled from his church, he lost a lot more than just a place to worship.

Mr Grundy was brought up in a family of devout Jehovah's Witnesses, in what he describes as an extremely insular religious world.

But later in life, he came to the conclusion that the religion was "just not telling the truth", so he created an anonymous website that strongly criticised Jehovah's Witness teachings.

The church figured out that Mr Grundy was behind the website and expelled him – a process known in the religion as "disfellowshipping".

And in the Jehovah's Witness faith, a disfellowed member can be "shunned," or as Mr Grundy describes it, "people cut you off from their lives, virtually completely".

"I lost most of my family and my friends. I went into mourning over that, knowing that was the end of my relationship with my mother and father and sister. It was almost like they died … I fell into a real state of depression."

Mental health experts say that shunning and similar extreme practices can have a significant effect on people.

"You may see PTSD, or low self-worth, even a loss of identity and a loss of self," says Nicola Stevens, a registered counsellor who has researched religious trauma.

"You can almost compare it to a form of coercion or an attempt by the religious institution to maintain power and control over the individual by saying, 'we'll use isolation'," she says.

The Jehovah's Witnesses did not respond to questions from the ABC about the effects of disfellowshipping and shunning.

But Mr Grundy says in the long term, he "definitely made the right choice" and is "very happy" with where he is now.

"Today I'm 'ignostic' … I think the whole discussion of whether there's a God or not is completely meaningless, because God doesn't reveal himself, no one knows who he is."
An ancient practice

Methods of temporarily or permanently excluding followers who break the rules are as old as religions themselves, according to experts.

Andrew Singleton, a professor of sociology and social research at Deakin University, says "it goes all the way back to when humans invented religion".

"The second thing they invented was heresy. And the third thing they invented was being removed for heresy," he says.

"[The Catholic Church] allows flexibility, but at some point, if you're speaking out in a way that's clearly against the doctrine, they will at that point clamp down."

For the Catholics, these penalties range from being "removed from clerical office" — like in the case of Mr Kennedy and Mr Fitzpatrick — to excommunication.

Professor Singleton says religions with greater "hierarchy, authority and history" are more likely to eject people for standing up to them, but "charismatic religions" are far less likely to do so.

"Charismatic religions are ones where anyone has the authority to hear from the spirits or gods. So it's not clear cut what constitutes heresy."

Professor Michele Riondino is the director of the Canon Law Centre at the Australian Catholic University.

He says for the Catholic Church, the legal structure and penalties laid out in the Code of Canon Law are to ensure "order" and "the good of the community".

Professor Riondino says in recent years, most clerical dismissals in the Catholic Church were due to sex-abuse crimes, rather than individuals standing up to church authority.

"All the sanctions in the church's Code of Canon Law, they have three purposes … To restore justice, reform the offender and repair the scandal," he says.

Professor Riondino says some penalties are "expiatory" while others are "medicinal", which are meant "to help the person understand the grave and the deep break between them and the church and to help them to be part of it again".

"The imposition or declaration of each kind of penalty … is one of the most significant expressions of the church's power and for this reason, every kind of penalty is exercised with great care, and with pastoral attention."

But while being pushed away from a religion can bring an enormous emotional toll, some Australians are fortunate to have had a much more positive experience.
'Just enjoy the ride'

Sue-Ann Post talks about her excommunication from the Mormon church in an almost joyous way.

But that's to be expected from someone who has described herself as "Australia's favourite six-foot, lesbian, ex-Mormon, diabetic, comedian and writer".

In the late 1980s, Ms Post started drawing on her Mormon upbringing for comedy material. Fifteen years on, church authorities eventually had enough and officially excommunicated her.

Ms Post was born into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the official name of the Mormon church) but began drifting away from the faith in her teens.

"I probably would be a messed-up Mormon housewife if I hadn't gone to university and at age 18 realised that lesbians existed and went 'oh my God that explains everything'," she says.

"There were two years of battling that, praying and fasting and asking God not to make me gay until I finally accepted [my sexuality] … Then I thought, if they're wrong about that, what else are they wrong about? And I worked my way out with logic and a bit of anger."

Material from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints says, "the experience of same-sex attraction is a complex reality for many people. The attraction itself is not a sin, but acting on it is".

Ms Post says for her, life is "all just one big adventure".

"I do not fear death. I do not fear an afterlife. If there is a God, I'm prepared to argue toe-to-toe with him."

And the ex-Mormon comedian has a piece of advice for people who go through a similar experience to hers.

"It was an absolutely scary but wonderful liberation … If you get expelled from a faith, just enjoy the ride."
Post-traumatic growth

Counsellor Nicola Stevens also says there can be positives, no matter how traumatic the split is.

"People are pretty incredible and I think even when they have been through traumatic experiences, there is a thing that we call 'post-traumatic growth'," Ms Stevens says.

"People can experience growth and make some sense after what has happened, and find a way to accept that it's happened.

"With resilience and strength … people can find ways to create a life worthwhile and meaningful for them, even after an event like this."

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-07-25/the-australians-who-were-cast-out-of-their-religions/100306930

Apr 14, 2021

New book explores plague of abuse in Church's new religious movements

New book explores plague of abuse in Church's new religious movements
Inés San Martín
CRUX NOW
April 12, 2021

ROME – In 2017, the man who leads the Vatican’s office for religious congregations acknowledged in an interview that some 70 “new movements” were under investigation for the abusive behavior of their founders.

French journalist Céline Hoyeau, who covers the religion beat for the French Catholic daily La Croix, took this to heart and began investigating many of the men and women who founded new religious movements in the era before and after Second Vatican Council.

The new movements were often considered the source for a “new springtime” for the Catholic Church, amidst a crisis in vocations and a rapid secularization.

Hoyeau captured her findings in the book La Trahison des pères (The Betrayal of the Fathers, Bayard), released in late March in France.

Crux spoke with the French journalist about the book, what inspired her to write it and about the possibility of it being published in English. What follows are excerpts of that conversation.

Crux: How would you summarize the book for Crux’ readers?

Some of the founders of the new communities, leading charismatic figures in the second half of the twentieth century in the Catholic Church, were found to have committed abuses (spiritual abuse, abuse of power, sexual abuse). I wanted to understand the reasons for this “fall of the stars” by interviewing victims, former members of these communities and experts: Historians, sociologists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, theologians, canonists, bishops …

It seemed to me that a certain context allowed the rise of these charismatic figures who rose to such heights that they no longer met with any counterweight and were able to commit abuse: A context of crisis, of great expectations of renewal for Catholics, and of absence of control.

After the Second Vatican Council, in a period marked by secularization and de-Christianization, some founders were enthusiastic, attracted many vocations, and were successful, at a time when the Church seemed to be losing momentum, when parishes and seminaries were emptying. These new communities seemed to have found the miracle recipe to become the future of the Church. In a context of crisis, these founders appeared as “providential men” capable of “saving the Church” and re-evangelizing society.

These charismatic personalities also met the very strong expectations of Catholics who aspired to clear reference points in the teaching of the faith, a liturgy with a sense of the sacred, the beauty of celebrations, a personal relationship with God and a strong ideal of community and fraternal life. The genius of these founders is to have known how to meet this spiritual quest, to have known how to embody not only a reassuring authority, but also a new way of believing, which gives place to emotion, to affectivity, to tenderness, to the body, to the welcoming of one’s vulnerability.

These founders were considered by these generations of Catholics as being sent by the Holy Spirit: As saints. They locked themselves up in an omnipotence and were able to abuse with impunity, without encountering any opposing forces or effective ecclesial control. If these abuses have been able to continue over time without being denounced, it is in fact also the fault of an entire ecosystem, for which each of the actors bears a share of responsibility and has a role to play today in helping the Church to emerge from them.

Why did you decide to write this book?

As a journalist for the Religions department of La Croix, I was led to investigate from 2013 onwards the founders of communities who had committed abuses (Thierry de Roucy, Mansour Labaky, Marie-Dominique Philippe, Thomas Philippe…). As the revelations of the victims’ testimonies have come to light in recent years, the list has grown longer. I wanted to give the keys for understanding by questioning experts (historians, sociologists, psychotherapists, theologians) in what context and by what mechanisms these figures had such an aura that they were able to abuse with impunity, sometimes for several decades.

As a Christian, I was also marked in my faith journey by several of these figures whose dark side we are discovering today: I was part of the “John Paul II generation” – I was 20 years old at the 1997 World Youth Day in Paris – and I followed various retreats or sessions in these new communities. I shared the amazement, the anger, the sadness, the incomprehension of many Catholics for whom these founders were essential figures (some converted through them, others found an orientation for their lives) and who were shocked, like me, to discover the other side of the story.

These founders had luminous intuitions, good passed through these people whose abuses we are discovering today. This is the paradox and mystery that this book cannot exhaust, nor solve. But it seemed to me necessary to understand these mechanisms that made us admire, let our guards down — even lose all critical sense — in front of these men without any oversight, who tipped over into a certain omnipotence, and serious drifting, in order to draw lessons from it.

Of all the “fathers” that you examined, was there one who you did not expect or who disappointed you the most when you found out? If so, why?

The revelations, in February 2020, of the investigation carried out by L’Arche on Jean Vanier were a shock to all. He was the founder of this organization for people with mental disabilities, which has been established all over the world, was honored by everyone, in the Church and in society.

He was a model of a founder, who had given up his responsibilities as head of his community quite early, in the 1980s, and was very humble, open to all, whatever their religion or condition. He was almost seen as a saint. And when the other founders of the same generation fell one after the other, people said: “At least he was…”

When L’Arche revealed that, contrary to what he had said, that he had been aware since the 1950s of the abuses committed by his spiritual master, Father Thomas Philippe, and that, in addition, he too had led women whom he accompanied spiritually into sexual acts by justifying them with the same deviant mysticism, it caused immense disappointment.

For my part, in 2015, I had met Jean Vanier as I was investigating Philippe and I asked him if he was aware of these abuses, but he had answered that he was not and had not known what to say when I had asked him the question that was going to be at the origin of my book and that, already at that time, was nagging me: How is it that figures like Ephraim, Thierry de Roucy or the Philippe Fathers, who took part in the “springtime of the Church” in the last quarter of the 20th century, could have been abusers?

Jean Vanier was uncomfortable and I left a little disappointed not to have an answer. At the time, I had no idea that he shared the same practices and when I found out, I felt a sense of betrayal.

Marie-Dominique and Thomas Philippe, André-Marie van der Borght, Ephraim, Thierry de Roucy, Jean Vanier … the list of leaders of the “springtime of the Church” who founded these so-called “new movements” but who proved to have committed criminal acts. Why were so many of these able to “get away” with it?

For reasons that have to do both with their personality, often manipulative, and with the non-controlling context in which they emerged. Indeed, there have always been two-faced, abusive personalities, but the context will be conducive or not for them to transgress and abuse. But these founders did not encounter any counterweight outside or inside their community, or they managed to bypass them.

The bishops, for one thing, have not been vigilant. At the time when they took off in the 1970s, most French bishops were more involved in Catholic Action and social struggles, and they looked with a certain amount of mistrust on these founders, who seemed to them to be conservative and attached to outdated forms of piety. Faced with de-Christianization, other bishops are nevertheless happy to welcome into their dioceses these communities which attract many vocations, while their seminaries and parishes are emptying. They are fascinated by these founders.

The Roman authorities have also been blinded by the success of these communities. During the pontificate of John Paul II, who saw in these founders the heralds of the new evangelization, they were fascinated by the hundreds of “Little Greys” who accompanied Father Marie-Dominique Philippe to St. Peter’s every year. So, any complaints that could be traced back to Rome were not taken seriously and dismissed. All the more so because at the time, the word of the victims was not taken into consideration at all in the Church.

But even the bishops who were lucid found themselves powerless: There were some attempts to warn these communities but they met with very strong defensive reactions. In fact, these founders could not have prospered if they had not had in front of them a court of disciples under their influence, who adulated them, who gave them an image of sanctity, who did not see or did not want to see, and who allowed themselves to be deceived in every sense of the word. They defended the founder tooth and nail. Any criticism of their community was discredited, the bishops accused of not understanding the charism of the founder who had received his mission from the Holy Spirit. To attack him was, in essence, to attack Christ. The few members of the community who were critical were marginalized, and those who left were demonized.

The lack of control by the Church is also explained by the fact that these communities claimed a separate framework, new ways of building community life (men/women; singles/couples) in the Church. The rule was drawn up according to the intuitions of the founder, around whom everything revolved. Basically, the rule was him. These communities did not respect the safeguards and checks and balances that are the usual rules of wisdom in the Church (notably the distinction between the internal and external forum, i.e., a community leader cannot spiritually accompany or confess a member of his community, in order to preserve his freedom).

All of this was part of the context of a society, after the Second Vatican Council and May of 1968, where it had become “forbidden to forbid.” The Church was not immune to these cultural changes: The bishops preferred to “accompany” rather than to sanction. A “Church of Communion” was preferred to the authoritarian model of pre-Vatican II.

And even when there were sanctions, the secrecy in the Church had the perverse effect of diminishing their scope and making some of these sanctions fall into oblivion, as in the case of Thomas and Marie-Dominique Philippe. It was only in 2019 that we learned that the founder of the St. John community had himself been sanctioned in 1957, following the trial of his brother.

I know that to write the book you interviewed both survivors and experts on the field. Did you come to a conclusion about the common elements of these people who were inspired and who inspired others to do much good in the name of God, had secretive, criminal personalities?

All these founders are charismatic personalities, often emotional and captivating for this affectivity, endowed with a great talent for preaching, and with a high spiritual ideal suitable to reach the aspirations of seekers of meaning.

They also have in common the fact that they have maintained, under an air of humility, a cult of personality, and that they have reserved for themselves a special rhythm and a privileged treatment in their community (separate meals, different schedules). They had a complicated relationship with authority: Some left a first community to found their own in which they were the only masters on board; they chose dioceses where the bishop was favorable to them and changed dioceses to find new support.

I wondered if they were perverse from the beginning or if they drifted, won over by spiritual pride in the success of their community. There are psychological and spiritual reasons for this. However, I can’t draw a typical profile.

The experts, moreover, do not agree among themselves. Nevertheless, we can list some aspects of these two-faced personalities … some, rare, meet the characteristics of the true “pervert”, who will build a system in which he will be able to enjoy the exploitation and destruction of the other; others, the most numerous, present a strong narcissistic flaw and, in an uncontrolled context, will develop traits of perversion and will use others to their ends (intellectually, spiritually, financially, sexually), without necessarily being aware of it.

Will the book be translated into English?

I hope so, and my publisher is working on it, because, though I have studied the French context in my book, this phenomenon of charismatic founders of communities who have abused can be found in many other countries; it is enough to mention the Mexican Marcial Maciel (Legionaries of Christ), the Germans Joseph Kentenich (Schönstatt movement) and Werenfried von Stratten (Aid to the Church in Need), the Peruvian Luis Fernando Figari (Sodalicio), the Italian Gino Burresi, the founder of the Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

In 2017, Cardinal [João] Braz de Aviz, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life, acknowledged in an interview with Settimananews that the Vatican is “closely following” today 70 new religious families, some of which present “serious personality problems in the founders and phenomena of control, strong psychological conditioning of the members.”

He added that some of these founders have turned out to be “real abusers of consciences.”

Follow Inés San Martín on Twitter: @inesanma

https://cruxnow.com/interviews/2021/04/new-book-explores-plague-of-abuse-in-churchs-new-religious-movements/

Jan 31, 2021

Jesuit order in Spain apologises for decades of sexual abuse by members

The society acknowledged ‘the culture of silence’ around the abuse. Photograph: eranicle/Getty Images/iStockphoto
Society of Jesus admits 81 children and 21 adults were sexually abused by 96 of its members since 1927

Sam Jones in Madrid
The Guardian
January 21. 2021

The Jesuit order in Spain has admitted that 81 children and 21 adults have been sexually abused by 96 of its members since 1927, and has apologised for the “painful, shameful and sorrowful” crimes.

In a report released on Thursday, the Society of Jesus, whose members often work as teachers, said most of the abuse had taken place in schools “or was related to schools”.

According to the document, 48 of the 65 Jesuits who abused children are dead. Four of the surviving abusers are no longer Jesuits and 13 have been prevented from working with children pending the outcome of civil or canonical cases, or have already been ordered to cease their ministry and sent to isolated Jesuit communities.

The order said the 96 Jesuits who carried out abuse of children and adults between 1927 and 2020 represented 1.08% of its members over the period.

Antonio España, the order’s provincial superior in Spain, said the abuse filled its members with shame and pain.

“We want to learn to apologise to the victims and to society for the abuses, for the culture of silence, and for not facing the facts fair and square,” he said. “We also want to bear in mind that there are people who’ve suffered these wounds and we’re trying not to increase the pain they feel.”

The order did not name the abusers, telling El País newspaper: “We want to find a balance between avoiding a witch-hunt and sending a message to possible victims that they can trust in our desire to seek out the truth.”

It said it was committed to transparency, adding that protocols and plans had been devised to guarantee that Jesuit institutions were “safe places for children and vulnerable people”.

The order said it believed some people had come forward to report abuse over the past two years using the email address proteccion@jesuitas.es, which it had set up to help victims.

Infancia Robada (Stolen Childhood), an association that represents victims of childhood abuse, welcomed the report but said its figures were “ridiculous” given the era in which many of the crimes had happened.

“They seem to have forgotten that victims don’t report abuse when they want to – it’s something they only do when they can,” said the association’s president, Juan Cuatrecasas. “In 1927, no one would have been able to report something like this. We appreciate the effort that the Jesuits have gone to by diving into the past and providing dates and statistics, but this should be seen as the very beginning of something else – of acknowledgement and recognition.”

Cuatrecasas said the Jesuits needed to talk to the victims and set about the process of punishment and compensation.

In 2018, Pope Francis – who is a Jesuit – acknowledged the failures of the Roman Catholic church in dealing with sexual abuse by priests, attacking a “culture of death” and deferential “clericalism” that he said helped perpetuate evil.

But he was criticised the following year for failing to take concrete action on the matter and for arguing that the sexual abuse of children was not confined to the church but had, historically, been “a widespread phenomenon in all cultures and societies”.

Dec 5, 2020

Priest's Aboriginal victims sue Pope Francis over church's failures

Priest's Aboriginal victims sue Pope Francis over church's failures
Chip Le Grand
Sydney Morning Herald
November 27, 2020

Pope Francis has been named as a defendant in a Victorian Supreme Court damages claim by three Aboriginal men who were sexually assaulted as young boys by paedophile priest Michael Glennon after the Vatican knew of his crimes against children but did not defrock him.

It is the first known case in Australia in which victims of clerical sexual abuse have sought to hold the world’s most senior Catholic personally responsible for his church’s failure to take decisive action against predators in its ranks.

The three plaintiffs, who cannot be identified for legal reasons, all claim to have experienced significant, ongoing impacts from their childhood abuse including drug addiction, homelessness and unemployment.

They are seeking compensation and exemplary or punitive damages against Pope Francis, the Archdiocese of Melbourne and Melbourne Archbishop Peter Comensoli for the inaction of their predecessors.

If successful it would represent the first time an Australian court has punished the church – as distinct from compensating victims of abuse – for its failure to protect children from paedophile priests.

The claim lodged this week will test Pope Francis’s public commitment to treat all cases of clerical abuse with the “utmost seriousness’’ and the practical reach of Victorian civil law into the Vatican.

As of Friday, the Melbourne-based lawyers for the plaintiffs, Angela Sdrinis Legal, were waiting for the Holy See’s representative in Australia, Papal Nuncio Adolfo Tito Yllana, to accept service of the writ on the Pope’s behalf.

Angela Sdrinis said the Vatican’s refusal to accept service had frustrated previous claims against the church brought elsewhere around the world.

"It is about getting the Pope and the Vatican to accept responsibility," Ms Sdrinis told The Age and Sydney Morning Herald.

"What possible excuse could they have for not laicising him [Glennon]?"

Glennon, a charismatic, guitar-playing priest and karate teacher from Melbourne’s northern suburbs who established a youth camp outside the town of Lancefield, first pleaded guilty to a child sex offence in 1978 – the indecent assault a year earlier of a 10-year-old girl – and was sentenced to two years' jail.

Despite this, he was able to use his status as an ordained minister of the church to gain access to children and abuse them for 23 more years.

By the time of his death in 2014 he was in jail for the rape, sexual assault and physical abuse of 15 children. Police suspect he abused many more victims.

The principal claim against church authorities here and in Rome is they did nothing to stop him.

“By acquiescing in Fr Glennon’s continuing egregious conduct against children after his release from prison in 1979, failing to publicly denounce his behaviour and keeping his abuse of children a secret, the defendants allowed Fr Glennon to continue to avail himself of opportunities in the community to engender and then breach the trust of parishioners and their children,’’ the statement of claim reads.

“At all material times [the defendants] were in a position to warn the public of the danger that Fr Glennon posed to children. They did not do so.’’

Glennon was one of Australia’s worst paedophile priests. He targeted vulnerable children from migrant families and cynically cultivated the trust of Aboriginal families by professing to have a deep knowledge of Indigenous culture.

At Karaglen, the bush retreat he established outside Lancefield, north of Melbourne, he invited families to take part in self-styled corroborees. After he plied the parents with alcohol, he molested their children.

The three plaintiffs in the Supreme Court claim against the Pope were each abused at Karaglen and at Glennon’s house over several years, from the ages of seven or eight. One of the boys was repeatedly raped. Another said Glennon threatened to kill his parents and take custody of him if he told anyone about his abuse.

Their ordeal covers a nine-year period, from 1983 to 1991. During this time, Glennon gained national notoriety when broadcaster Derryn Hinch publicly revealed his prior convictions while he was awaiting trial on further charges.

For Hinch, the outing of Glennon as a repeat child sex offender became a cause celebre. He was charged, convicted and eventually jailed for contempt after a failed High Court appeal and later, formed his eponymous Justice Party to launch a political career.

For the three plaintiffs, the broadcaster’s high-profile campaign had a different outcome. Glennon’s lawyers cited the adverse publicity to secure a stay in the prosecution and he was released on bail and continued to abuse the boys.

Glennon was finally jailed in 1992 for multiple child sex crimes and remained behind bars until his death.

The Melbourne Archdiocese withdrew Glennon’s faculties as a priest after his 1978 conviction but only the Vatican had the power to laicise him.

In a 1994 letter petitioning the Vatican to take action, then archbishop of Melbourne Frank Little said there was "abundant evidence" Glennon had continued to present himself as a man of the cloth.

This included presiding over baptisms, confirmation, confession and administering other sacraments. One of his criminal trials was shown a video of Glennon leading a mass at Karaglen, with a procession of robed altar boys.

Archbishop Comensoli’s predecessor Denis Hart told the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sex Abuse that Archbishop Little first petitioned the Vatican in 1990 to have Glennon laicised and again in 1994.

It was not until 1999 – after Archbishop Little's successor George Pell vowed to bring it to the personal attention of the Pope – that John Paul II issued a decree expelling Glennon from the priesthood.

The Melbourne archdiocese confirmed it was aware of the claim before the Supreme Court.

"The crimes of Michael Glennon were horrendous and the archdiocese fully acknowledges the deep hurt of those vulnerable people he wounded," a spokesperson said on Friday.

"It was on his arrest [in 1978] that Glennon's abusing ways first came to the attention of the archdiocese. He was immediately placed on administrative leave and his priestly faculties were consequently removed. He was never again permitted by the church to minister as priest.

"Tragically, after he was released from Pentridge, he continued to offend.''

The decision to join the current Pope to the Supreme Court claim reflects the complex legal structures of the church where a priest is supervised by his local diocese but under canon law, can only be laicised or excommunicated for sex crimes against children by Rome.

It is rare in Australia for courts to award exemplary damages in sex abuse cases.

Earlier this year, the ACT Supreme Court awarded exemplary damages against an Australian National University residential college for its inadequate response towards a student raped during a hazing ritual.

In Victoria, the most recent example is the 2015 case of Dassi Erlich, one of three sisters allegedly molested by their school principal, Malka Leifer.

In that case, Victorian Supreme Court Justice Jack Rush awarded exemplary damages against the Adass Israel School for its "disgraceful" conduct in arranging for Ms Leifer to flee the country.

Ms Leifer’s appeal against her extradition from Israel is due to be heard next week.

If you or anyone you know needs support, you can contact the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732), Lifeline 131 114, or Beyond Blue 1300 224 636.