REM = Regnum Christi escaped musicians?

From a reader who wishes to remain anonymous because of his employment situation: “Pete – you picked the wrong REM song to describe the movement. Try ‘Losing my Religion’.” (See What’s the frequency, Alvaro?)
Hmmm….now that you mention it, other REM favorites include: Shiny Happy People, The End of the World, Everybody Hurts, I Took Your Name, Bang and Blame (particularly the verse “The whole world hinges on your swings/ Your secret life of indiscreet discretions”), I Believe, Just a Touch, and Imitation of Life.
I think I detect a pattern. Fables of the Reconstruction, Reconstruction of the Fables, Life’s Rich Pageant, Monster, Up, Reveal – even their album titles seem a tad suspicious. And they were formed in Georgia, within driving distance of Atlanta. Not to mention that Michael Stipe’s outfit in this video bears similarities to clerical garb:

RETROSPECT: Gerald Renner answers Fr. Bannon

Information surfacing about the life of Fr. Marcial Maciel, founder of the Legionaries of Christ and Regnum Christi, has forced many to view Fr. Maciel’s writings in a new light. I think this is a good thing. However, let’s not forget those who worked tirelessly for years to bring these allegations to light. Many of these folks were dismissed by Orthodox Catholics as anti-Catholic media bearing a hidden agenda.
Like the police now kicking themselves over the missed opportunity three years ago to rescue Jaycee Lee Dugard, we as orthodox Catholics need to look at why we missed the opportunity during the Boston fallout to investigate the accusations against Fr. Maciel.
With that in mind, and surprised by Jose Bonilla’s allegation that Legion superiors have known about Fr. Maciel’s children for 15 years, I’m re-reading this article written by Gerald Renner in 2000. Renner is the Hartford Courant reporter who worked closely with Jason Berry to give voice to Fr. Maciel’s victims. His article is a response to the Legion’s following open letter dismissing his investigative reporting into the Legion.
Here are some passages from Renner’s letter that in retrospect take on new meaning, in my opinion. I’ve bolded certain parts that really stood out to me:

I was told I had to seek the permission of the national director, Fr. Anthony Bannon, to write anything. But he was never available, despite calls I made to him over the course of several years. I even visited the seminary personally one day to the consternation of the seminarian-receptionist and was again told I had to talk to Fr. Bannon.
Finally, one day in 1993, Fr. Bannon himself happened to pick up the phone when I called. He told me in no uncertain terms the order did not want any publicity and that he did not trust the press. The only way he would provide information for an article, he said, if he had the right to review it after it was written, something that is journalistically unacceptable.

Which raises the question: Did Fr. Bannon know anything at the time? If so, what? For an order this focused on recruitment and building the Kingdom, why would they shy away from free publicity? As Renner muses later on the piece, “Yet, the order wonders aloud in its open letter why it’s called secretive.”
Here’s another passage that I read differently now in retrospect:

I got a call from a man who said he had been a seminarian in the Legion at Cheshire and in a satellite seminary the Legion ran near Mount Kisco, N.Y. He said he and another novice had fled from the seminary without permission when their religious superiors kept rebuffing their pleas to leave.
It was such a bizarre claim that I was skeptical. Was this a religious nut or what? But he sounded stable. We had a personal meeting, and he repeated his story convincingly. He put me in touch with three other former novices. Two of them said they had similar experiences of being psychologically coerced by overzealous religious superiors. The third, who had been in a Legion-operated seminary in Mexico said he had to beg for his passport and clothes to go home after being repeatedly rebuffed.
I turned to Fr. Bannon for response only to be told by his secretary that the Courant was only trying to stir up “scandal” and that he did not expect Fr. Bannon to respond. Only after the article appeared did Fr. Bannon send a statement denying the accusations. His statement was published in the Courant.

And let’s not forget this passage in which Renner explains why Maciel’s earliest victims, like Jaycee Lee Dugard, didn’t avail themselves of an earlier opportunity to come forward: “But those making the accusations today were young boys in seminary in the late 1950s. They say they lied at the time to Vatican investigators to protect the man they called ‘Nuestro Padre.'”

St. Pius X need not apply

In the comments box below, RC Is Not My Life chides me gently for having misunderstood her taste in ice cream:

Pete,
I chose HEATH Bar Crunch, not HEALTH Bar Crunch.
A HEATH bar is chocolate-covered toffee.
I was brainwashed by RC, not Richard Simmons!!!

Perhaps it’s in somewhat poor taste to belabor the discussion, but one of the many allegations circulating about the Legion of Christ is that the portly need not apply. I’m not sure whether or not this allegation is true. However, it comes from many sources and – now that I think about it – I’ve never seen a plump Legionary priest or seminarian.
Which got me thinking of some of the heavyweights canonized by the Church throughout the centuries. Pope St. Pius X and St. Thomas Aquinas come to mind immediately. And St. Augustine is often portrayed as bearing quite the august physique. And many Catholics are salivating over the movement to canonize G.K. Chesterton.
Based solely on their physique, and not their deep faith or intellectual prowess, would any of the four been acceptable candidates to the Legion’s seminarians? I don’t know. However, if the allegation is true, it fattens the credibility of those who accuse Legionary priests of being lightweights lacking in well-roundedness.

St. Benedict: the antidote to Maciel

It’s been quite the week for Catholics concerned with the scandal surrounding Fr. Maciel and the Legion of Christ. Lots of new revelations, accusations and resurgence of strong memories and feelings. As the week comes to a close, my fellow blog hobbits – us little people who believe in building up God’s Kingdom through $20 donations to Mother Teresa’s Missionaries, rather than $1000-hams to Mexico’s Saruman – are trying to make sense of this spiritual shadow that has cast itself over our Catholic shire.
Here’s a summary of how each hobbit is responding to different aspects of this scandal, followed by my own analysis on certain points. RC Is Not My Life has two posts. The first talks about her experience as former RC consecrated and how the women are given little support during the transition period after they leave the movement (click here). Her second post discusses how the Legion obsesses with the numbers of people coming into the movement, but nobody seems to know how many leave.
Meanwhile, Hobbit Giselle at Life-After-RC discusses how the Legion severs family ties when people enter the movement’s apostolates, as you can read here. Which leads to internal struggles when those still active with the movement begin to question their involvement, as Giselle discusses here.
Over in his part of the shire, ExLC posts the personal reaction of a former Legionary priest, who says: “I feel duped, embarrassed, and angry in front of so many lies. I think, without wishing to make false accusations, that this priest did not work alone, that there were Legionaries who knew what went on with Maciel and kept silent, maybe out of fear or maybe just to cover it all up.” His feelings are not unlike those expressed by LC and RC still on the inside with who I am in contact.
ExLC also posts the testimony of a former LC seminarian named Frank, who left after speaking with a Jesuit while on summer break. Here’s the crux of Frank’s story:

While I was home, I contacted a Jesuit priest for help with my internal conflict. “I want to be generous, and give everything to God, but I just don’t feel right about it,” I told him. “Is that selfish? If God calls me to do something I hate, then shouldn’t I just follow His holy will?”
The good Jesuit responded: “Frank, one of the bedrock principals of discernment from St. Ignatius is that one should never make a serious life decision without a sense of true peace, be it marriage, religious life, job change, etc. If you don’t feel at peace with the decision to join the Legion, that’s a clear sign not to proceed.”

Which brings me to my own thoughts as we wrap up the week. Several commentators continue to draw parallels between the Legion and the Jesuits, in some cases suggesting that Rome hand over the Legion to the Jesuits, and in others suggesting that the Legion’s charism is connected to that of St. Ignatius. Says goodguyex in the comments’ box over at CrunchyCon: “[T]he spirituality of the Legion is Ignatian. Perhaps the Legion can “adopt” St Ignatius Loyola as it spiritual Step-Founder.”
I disagree.
One must not be fooled by appearances. Although the two orders resemble each other on the surface, they could not be more different on the inside. The contrast is as different as the life of each founder. The first concerns each order’s understanding of religious obedience. Jesuit seminarian Nathan O’Halloran, a graduate of Steubeville who initially considered the Legion, explains this difference in understanding here.
Secondly, as alluded to by Frank, Ignatian spirituality focuses heavily on the proper discernment of spirits, how to distinguish God’s call from the devil’s temptation. Along that lines, if one believes that the Legion’s leadership knew nothing of their founder’s “double life,” leadership whereas the Legion’s entire leadership, if we believe them, failed to discern some serious irregularities in their founder’s behavior. This is not to say the majority of Legionaries are bad people for being taken in, only that it shows a certain lack of discernment.
Moreover, self-criticism and examination of conscience are a major part of Ignatian spirituality. Yet one of Fr. Thomas Berg’s most pointed criticisms upon leaving the Legion is that the order seemed incapable of self-criticism. “That inability to see and honestly recognize the flaws and errors that so many people outside the Legion are able to see speaks volumes,” he said. I agree. It says that the Legion and Regnum Christi were far too focused on the external trappings of apostolate, the numbers and the high-profile converts, and that something serious was lacking in the movement’s internal spirituality – both collectively as an order, and individually as priests and brothers.
Which is why I believe the best hope for individual Legionaries right now is not the Jesuits. Certainly they have a lot to contribute to the healing process, but I question whether Legionaries are ready to embrace it. For the Legion and the the Jesuits share many of the external trappings of apostolate and obedience, but without the same internal understanding of these concepts. This creates the potential for confusion and brings with it a host of other temptations.
Rather, I think the big hope for individual Legionaries right now is the sons of St. Benedict. Individual Legionaries need to learn to pray again. They need to “retreat” from high-profile apostolate, and rekindle their interior life and their personal relationship with Christ as they work through the consequences of this scandal. A good dose of Benedictine “Ora et Labora” – that is, large doses of daily prayer coupled with simple work and apostolate – provides medicine for the soul.
So my suggestion to individual Legionaries who find themselves falling apart right now – whether it be physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually – is to visit your nearest Benedictine monastery.

What’s the frequency, Alvaro?

Several readers have asked me whether Jose Bonilla, the lawyer for three of Fr. Maciel’s alleged children, has a case against the Legionaries. Speaking as a canon lawyer, probably not. Fr. Maciel was a priest with a religious order. He was not supposed to own property personally, according to canon law, and most of what he raised was probably intended for the Legion, Regnum Christi, or various other apostolates – not for him personally, and certainly not for the support of his clandestine mistress and children.
Nevertheless, there might be a case if the children can substantiate rumors they were abused by Maciel. But this would be based upon their status as abuse victims, not as Fr. Maciel’s children.
In terms of the civil courts, I don’t know. I’m not a civil lawyer nor am I familiar with civil law in the Mexico, where these cases are reportedly being introduced. However, several readers have told me that Mexican civil law prohibits clergy from owning large amounts of property personally. So for the sake of the argument let’s exclude this possibility as well.
What’s left? Well, the court of public opinion.
From what Spanish-speaking readers are telling me, this has the potential to explode into South America’s Boston. Bonilla presents a perfect David behind who the secular press can rally as he faces down the Goliath of Legion secrecy, influence and power. The average person can sympathize and identify with him. Not because he’s a lawyer, but because he’s the loving father of a preschooler who suffered abuse is an Legion/RC-affiliated nursery school, for which he won a civil judgment after the school failed to cough up the accused perp.
Few media images break through the stereotype of litigators as cold, calculating, money-grubbing ambulance chasers. But a father crusading to stop the abuse suffered by his own child is one of them. Who would want their child to suffer the same horror? Show me a mother and father who, discovering their child had suffered such a horror, would not devote the rest of their life to taking down the system that allowed the abuse to happen? Thus as parents we are all Jose Bonilla – at least for the fifteen minutes in which we filter the story through the media.
And Fr. Alvaro, who appears desperate to reassure members that nothing is wrong, is struggling through his fifteen minutes as former Iraqi information minister Muhammed Saeed al-Sahaf.
Which brings us to something else that strengthens Bonilla’s presentation before the court of public opinion: The Legion has allowed him to control the flow of information. In not fully disclosing the truth, in using vague terms to confirm only bits and pieces after the secular media reports it, the Legion is reacting to the scandal rather than guiding Catholics through it. This forces us to go to Bonilla and the secular media for information concerning the scandal.
We may question Bonilla’s presentation of the facts. Did Pope John Paul II really know these were Maciel’s children? We may wonder about some of the discrepancies in his presentation. How could the children, having received their First Holy Communion from Pope John Paul II, not have known their father was a priest until later in life? But with the Legion fog-tongued and stone-lipped (talk about a weird image!) even their most ardent apologists must turn to Bonilla for information about Maciel’s “double life”.