To answer Anne’s last comment: (blogspot still balking):

I actually have many concrete ideas about retrieving the memory of Vatican II in our parishes. I suggested observing the 50th anniversary year, because I can imagine an entire year-long program of activities observances and ceremonies. For me, the rule of thumb is to focus on the “forest” (that is, the main purpose of the council: the renewal of the church) rather than the “trees” (that is, the many reforms in various aspects of catholic life). Historically, these two things were collapsed together and made synonyms, which was a tragic mistake. Reforms are supposed to lead to renewal, but because we were not careful they often became ends in themselves and led nowhere except to a new format that was just as routine as the old format. Reforms alter the face of the church, but renewal alters the heart of the church through an interior conversion of all of its members. We must remember that both John XXIII and Paul VI called the council “a second Pentecost,” in other words the rebirth of the church after 20 centuries. In CrossCurrents #307, (especially in the full-text version available by email request), I compare remembering this rebirth to remembering the birth of America, and I name concrete ways to copy how Americans keep alive the flame of the American Revolution. E.G.: Hang the portrait of JOHN XXIII in a prominent place to honor him as Father of Our Rebirth (like Washington in our schools).

#329: We Still Don’t Know—Part I

EXCERPT:
After 9 years and $2 million, the immediate and mostly negative reaction to the new John Jay College study of the “Causes and Contexts” of priestly sex abuse from 1950 to 2002 is understandable for three reasons: (1) it does not really answer the question it needed to address; (2) the explanation it does offer raises more questions than answers; (3) as a study commissioned by bishops and based largely on data they supplied, its tone and language leave it vulnerable to the charge of being a whitewash.

…

Notice the report does not ask “Why did priests commit child sex abuse and remain unchecked?” Or “why did Bishops cover-up?” it asks only “why did such abuse peak in the 1970s?” this is not, of course, the question on the public’s mind. People are looking for a remedy--a preventive--to ensure that such a scandal cannot happen again. They want to know the root cause, which this study does not even address.

Instead, this new study begins by assuming the findings of John Jay College’s first study in 2004 on the “Nature and Scope” of the problem of child sexual abuse (which claimed abuse peaked in the 1970s) as definitive. But that study relied on data I find highly dubious. First, it used “allegations” of abuse as its base numbers, even though admitting “it is impossible to determine from our surveys what percent of all actual cases of abuse…have been reported to the church.” In other words, both studies depend on assuming that the reporting rate of abuse has been reasonably accurate, and that it has not varied much between 1950 and 2002.

Reporting rates are, of course, a major issue in estimating crime trends--especially for crimes (such as rape, incest, Et cetera) where victims may feel ashamed and remain silent. Amid all the changes of the last 60 years, there is less stigma attached to victims who come forward, and more emphasis on their need for healing and justice. Thus the reporting rates for many such crimes have risen. We cannot assume that reporting rates for sex abuse did not change as well--and if they did, the question “why did abuse peak in the 1970s” becomes moot.

If, by contrast, we assume that reporting rates were not accurate and stable over 60 years, then the resulting “peak” in the 1970s seems rather predictable, for two reasons.

First, priests ordained before 1950 represent 21.3% of allegations, but they abused at a time when victims were less likely to report, and some of their victims are already deceased; moreover if they abused before 1950, the report does not include all their cases. So the actual percentage of abuses by those priests is probably higher than 21.3%.

Second, the priests ordained after 1975 account for 10.7% of all allegations--but the study admits “These conclusions have to be qualified because additional allegations for these time periods may surface in the future.” In fact, more than 25% of allegations came more than 30 years after the alleged abuse. So their reported 10.7% is probably too low as well.

In short, the study includes one time period too old for accurate reporting (given the gaps due silence and death for older priests) and another time period too recent for accurate reporting (given the time-lagged reporting on younger priests). Isn’t it common sense that allegations would be heaviest for priests ordained in between? Yet the entire purpose of the new study is to explain what caused this “peak” --which may not be real at all, but a kind of “false positive.”

…

In short, we still don’t know why priests raped kids and got away with it.

Response to Comment #4

Because Blogspot will not publish it under "comments."

Any honest reader of CrossCurrents knows how extensive my coverage in defense of Benedict XVI has been since his election in 2005. I have lamented the bad press he has received, and I have carefully examined his encyclicals to help my readers comprehend their undoubted importance. I have also recounted the history of Joseph Ratzinger’s break with his former allies from Vatican II, and expressed my own opinion that, if men of good will may disagree, there is something valid coming from both camps.

As for “Connecting the Dots,” I did not refer explicitly to Benedict XVI because in most respects the forgetting of Vatican II was already accomplished before his election. He is undoubtedly a product of the Council, since many of the salient aspects of his papacy were unthinkable before the Council. But in this latest piece, my concern was simply for the possibility that the Council’s work would be in vain due to the entrenchment of those opposing renewal itself. This same threat, of course, arose during the Council itself, and it caused Ratzinger much the same anxiety then as I feel now. As he wrote in 1963:

“There was a certain discomforting feeling that the whole enterprise might come to nothing more than a mere rubber-stamping of decisions already made, thus impeding rather than fostering the renewal needed in the Catholic Church…. The Council would have disappointed and discouraged all those who had placed their hopes and it; it would have paralyzed all their healthy dynamism and swept aside once again the many questions people of our era had put to the Church.”

#328: Connecting The Dots

EXCERPT:
Following a recent training session for my Fidelis program, one participant made a comment that really got me thinking, all the way back to my childhood. The result was a new insight about our current struggle to thrive as Church.

…

My insight: I now realize that the widespread suspension of Vatican II’s agenda for renewing Catholicism (regular readers know this theme is dear to me) is due to a failure to connect the dots in at least three ways.

First, many pastors between 1965 in 1980 announced “the changes” coming from Vatican Council II, but could not explain them because they do not understand themselves -- they could not teach what no one had taught them!

Second, many pastors attempted explanations but did not know how to put them in their true historical context. The shift away from Latin, for example, was often explained simply as “making Mass more understandable”--which was true enough, but hardly scratched the historical surface of a paradigm shift from a liturgy tethered to one culture (the Roman Empire) to a liturgy reshaped for use in all the cultures (and languages) of the modern world.

Third, at least one person knew how important it would be to connect the dots once the Council had completed its work: Pope John XXIII. As the Council’s first session ended, John addressed the assembly to assess its achievements. He concluded that “a good beginning has been made,” but then suggested the challenge for the future, when the Council sessions were over:

It will then be a question of extending to all departments of the life of the Church, social questions included, whatever the Conciliar assembly may decide, and applying its norms to them…This most important phase will see pastors united in a gigantic effort of preaching sound doctrine and applying the law,…and for this task will be called forth a collaboration of the forces of the diocesan and regular clergy, of the congregations of religious women, of the Catholic laity with all its attributes and potential, in order that the acts of the Fathers be seconded by a joyous and faithful response.

Unfortunately, John died less than a year after this address. His successor, Paul VI, also “got” the connections as and the need to communicate them. But after Humanae Vitae in 1968, his ability to communicate anything declined rapidly, like a teacher who knows teaching but not classroom management, and has lost control of his students.

John-Paul II acted out Vatican II, but the cult of his personality obscured the Council: instead of being its chief ambassador, he became its successor--witness (a) the way the next generation of Catholic youth identified with him, not the Council, and (b) the way his beatification has obscured the status of both the Council and John XXIII, without whom the papacy of John-Paul II cannot be imagined.

The result, nearly 50 years later, reminds me of what some Christians say about Christmas: our culture forgets “the reason for the season” because it fails to connect the dots (shopping, food, parties, Santa, songs, trees and ornaments and lights) to the big picture: celebrating the birthday of Christianity’s founder. Similarly, Catholics today live amid the trappings of Vatican II yet often forget the reason it happened.

…

This has reduced the Council’s meaning to the status of a textbook to be studied, rather than a watershed event in Catholic history to be preserved and celebrated as an act of divine providence. The result: today, in the average parish, the Council’s “changes” have become mere routine and the Council itself--its importance, its purpose, its legacy--is largely ignored.

The generation that lived through Vatican II got the dots but not the connections; the next generation is living with a Church that has reformed its practices but sagged into routine instead of renewal.

Maybe it’s time we all raised our hands and demanded - - or offered -- a better explanation: one that gives us the big picture by connecting all the dots.

Saints and Martyrs

EXCERPT:
In a bizarre irony, Pope John–Paul II is beatified the same day that Osama bin Ladin is killed. The most popular (perhaps even the most beloved) man of the last 50 years is thus linked to the most feared and vilified man since Hitler. John-Paul’s body is exhumed for the solemn celebration, while bin Ladin’s body is captured for positive identification and buried at sea.

But beyond the irony, is the any lesson for us? Is there any connection in the coincidence?

Perhaps we could pause and reflect on the values and limits of a very human instinct: the impulse to sanctify some and demonize others.

…These two men were exceptional: one an outstanding figure of principle and peace, the other a notorious icon of terror and destruction.

Such men make life simpler, in that we have definitive, un-mixed opinions about them. Most of the people we actually know evoke our appreciation for their strengths but also something less for their weaknesses, but these men evoked pure admiration and pure vilification, respectively, from millions.

Such reactions, natural as they are, can pose risks. We may so overreact to their image as “good” and “evil” that we dehumanize them--and in so doing, break their connection with us.
…
Still, this does not mean that assigning some people to our public Hall of Fame and others to our Hall of Shame is a bad idea.

The long tradition of canonizing saints (who comprise, after all, the Church’s Hall of Fame) offers many benefits. It gives recognition to a life well-lived, rendering that life more visible, and magnifying its power to inspire. It personifies, in the concrete form of one person’s life, values that otherwise might remain abstract. It creates a real-life model for others to admire and emulate. And it provides incentives and encouragement as we struggle with life’s challenges.

This is why we work to keep alive the memory of extraordinary people we may never have met. But sometimes--perhaps too often--that memory ossifies into the kind of “plaster saint” whom we pray to but never really connect with…:

If we lose this connection, we may forget that even the blessed are not perfect. John-Paul II, after all, badly misjudged the scale of the sex-abuse scandal (labeling it an “American problem”) in ways that hampered an effective response. His papacy may have been great, but his actions we not always good. So we must keep in minds that the Hall of Fame is full of fallen humans.

Having a “Hall of Shame” can be good for us too, since remembering history’s villains can personify, in concrete terms, the very vices we reject and want to expunge from our lives and our world. … Thousands of youth across America celebrated bin Ladin’ death precisely because he was the bogeyman of their youth, embodying an evil they feared and rejected.

But that fear came become paranoid, all out of proportion to the real danger. As bad as bin Ladin was, after all, he caused fewer deaths than our invasion of Iraq, the flaws in our healthcare system, or even the alcohol-related fatalities on our highways. His threat was real, but not unrivaled.
…
For the rest of us, the danger is different. By celebrating a villain’s demise we may be merely venting our relief after years of anxiety. But we may also be acting out our mistaken belief that we have defeated, not only one evil man, but evil itself. This danger is all too real when our country wages a “war on terror” in the misguided hope that world peace will come if we kill all the evil people.

This is the fundamental risk of overreacting to the saints and sinners among us. We can become blind to the human foibles of our heroes, and the same time we can pretend that our villains hoard all the evil of the world unto themselves.
…
But the fact is that, no matter how many evil men we tracked down and kill, we can never kill evil in the world, for evil lies within us all--that is what Christianity calls “Original Sin.”