Time Sep

26 TIMESeptember 3–10 2018

TheView Opener

and exposed the perils of unchecked
power exercised by another cardinal
Boston’s Bernard Law. That reporting
led to Law’s resignation the removal and
prosecution of priestly ofenders and
a promise from U.S. bishops to install a
“zero tolerance” policy on sexual abuse.
Sixteen years later the phrasewitch
hunt calls to mind President Trump’s as-
sault on the free press the rule of law
and our constitutional system of checks
and balances and the separation of pow-
ers. What happens when those curbs
on executive power are weak or nonex-
istent? Too often we look to places like
Vladimir Putin’s Russia to answer that
question. Instead we should look to the
Catholic Church; we can see the conse-
quences in the broken lives of thousands
of victims and the anguish of our Cath-
olic neighbors—because the crisis of
priestly sexual abuse is a crisis of execu-
tive power run amok.

HISTORICALLY A BISHOPwas a priest
drawn from an area’s Catholic people
and the Pope—the bishop of Rome suc-
cessor to Jesus’ disciple Peter—was con-
sidered the “bishop of bishops.” But the
papacy gained power until the Pope was
an absolute monarch. Then in 1959
Pope John XXIII called the world’s bish-
ops to Rome for a council. Known as
VaticanII that assembly airmed the
authority of the bishops under the Pope
empowering them to lead the faithful ac-
cording to regional needs and customs
around the world.
Pope John Paul II changed that.
Elected in 1978 he turned those bishops
into municipal upholders of the power
of Rome. Over three decades he made
appointments based on candidates’ un-
ambiguous orthodoxy and loyalty to the
organization rather than holiness wis-
dom imagination or grasp of the local
situation. He built a class of subordinates
to the church’s chief executive.
So when the U.S. bishops faced
charges of sexual abuse and cover-up
they struck back through assertions
of executive power. They accused the
press of anti-Catholic bias prosecutors
of interfering in church afairs and vic-
tims’ lawyers of greed and opportunism.
They acted as if they—not preyed-upon
youth—were the victims.
After the scandal of 2002 the bishops

actually entrusted themselves with

addressing the crimes—ones in which

they were implicated—by organizing a

review board under their supervision

and promising to report abuse claims to

law enforcement. The 60 million–plus

member American Catholic populace

had no formal say in this. We went along

with it and hoped for the best. Is it any

wonder that the crisis of priestly sexual

abuse hasn’t been dealt with?

Now there is talk of the need for pro-

found reform of the church’s structures

of governance. But while it’s a worthy

long-term goal that rebuilding would

take decades and it is unlikely to take

hold in the deeply undemocratic church

at a time when checks and balances are

under strain in robust democracies.

The best structure for accountabil-

ity then remains the one in place—that

which has shaped the crisis from the

exposé in Boston to the grand-jury re-

port in Pennsylvania: the press pros-

ecution and the people. A free press

pursues claims of priestly sexual abuse

aggressively—and adversarially if need

be. Victims take their claims to the

media the police and the courts (not just

the church)—and the perpetrators are

exposed and prosecuted. The Catholic

people and good people generally fully

express our sense of betrayal and feel the

pain of the victims all over again.

This arrangement though doesn’t

give us much hope for change. But there

is a fourth part of all of this: the Pope.

The historic power of the papacy

means that change in the church often

comes inally at the prompting of the

Pontif—as in through the exercise

of executive power. By calling for

Vatican II John XXIII sparked

crucial reforms. John Paul II was

personally committed to repair-

ing the church’s tortured rela-

tions with the Jewish people

and his commitment

led to change. The

church needs some-

thing similar from

Pope Francis.

The current

Pontif ’s record

on priestly sex-

ual abuse is far

from sound. But his willingness earlier

this summer to change his position on

priestly sexual abuse in Chile in a mat-

ter of weeks—from angry defensive-

ness to an admission of wrongdoing to

welcoming to victims in Rome—shows

what is possible when a Pope commits to

doing the right thing rather than stand-

ing blindly by his subordinates. And his

Aug. 20 letter—personal aggrieved but

short on speciics—suggests that he too

is searching for a way forward.

Pope Francis could appoint succes-

sors to the active bishops who igure in

the grand-jury report installing fresh

leaders for the good of the church. He

could institute a Year of Repentance for

Priestly Sexual Abuse akin to the Year

of Mercy he called in December 2015.

He could urge victims to come forward

to law enforcement without fear of stat-

utes of limitations. He could meet jour-

nalists on their own turf for an open

session—no question refused—and urge

them to keep up their reporting on the

church. He could welcome prosecu-

tors and victims’ attorneys to Rome and

thank them for doing the work of scru-

tiny and calling priests to account.

For all his power in the church a

Pope’s power in the world is that of lead-

ing through gesture and symbolism. It is

greater than executive power.

As John Paul at the Wailing Wall

paid homage to over 5700 years of

Jewish heritage in 2000 so too could

Francis bend the knee to democratic

traditions of separation of powers ac-

countability and a free press. It would

not be enough to expunge the evil of

priestly sexual abuse. But it would

airm what events have already

made clear: when it comes to

priestly sexual abuse the Cath-

olic Church is incapable of

ixing itself.

Elie a senior research

fellow at George-

town’s Berkley

Center for Reli-

gion Peace and

World Afairs

is writing a

book on art

religion and

controversy in

▷Pope Francis the 1980s

ALESSANDRO DI MEO—POOL/EPA-EFE/SHUTTERSTOCK