Tag: Marcial

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.'”

JPII, Maciel’s children, and Christian loyalty

One of the things that amazes me about this blog is that most of the readers are smarter, holier and more eloquent writers than I am. So it behooves me that you come from all over the world to gleam what little insight I can offer. Nevertheless, it does have its perks.
For instance, I was struggling over how best to defend Pope John Paul II from allegations he knew of Fr. Maciel’s children, when shmikey chimed in with the following well-written explanation::

It occured to me […] that since the Legion insisted on addressing Marcial Maciel [MM] as [Nuestro Padre], that this may have been how [Maciel’s] children may have addressed MM as pappa, and the Vatican would not have suspected that these were his own. This may have been all part of his deception. Many priests travel with family members, and no one suspects a thing. Many priests have nicknames that are familial and are used by only their family. This is just my suspicion as to how the Vatican could be innocent if these things happened as they are revealing in this summary.

I agree.
Nevertheless, I can understand why people are suspicious and raising questions. They trusted Fr. Maciel because of his perceived closeness to Pope John Paul II. Moreover, they were taken in Fr. Maciel’s appearance of holiness, orthodox and living sanctity. And how could nobody at the top have noticed, either in the Legion or at the Vatican? Add to this the fact the Legion spent decades denying Fr. Maciel was anything but a saint, and that the Legion has not been forthcoming publicly with answers to these question, and people – including many within the movement’s middle ranks – are going to grow suspicious.
Which brings me to another point. Many blog commentators, particularly those who understand Spanish, are discussing Lucrecia Rego’s recent Catholic.net article. This is the one in which the high-profile RC member blasts former Maciel followers for disloyalty (click here) because they believe the allegations and are discussing them openly.
While she speaks passionately about loyalty to her priest friend, absent from her article is any discussion bout loyalty to the Church. I find this troubling. Loyalty works two ways. One should not expect loyalty if one is not oneself loyal.
Which raises several questions:
– How is it loyal to Christ to lead a movement bearing his name, and not apologize publicly to those who were seriously harmed by the movement’s founder in Christ’s name?
– How is it loyal to the Church when all Catholics are tarnished by a Catholic movement’s founder, including those who are not part of the movement, and the movement’s lack of public disclosure allows the founder’s “double life” to be dragged out indefinitely in the media?
– And how is it loyal to allow the name and reputation of a deceased pope to come under dark suspicion, because the movement is not more forthcoming about who knew what, when and how?
So in one sense I agree with Lucrecia. Most of this scandal could be avoided is those calling themselves good Catholics showed more loyalty.

Making fog, not war!

A young army captain ordered his training platoon to march 25 miles, shouldering full fighting gear and 100-pound rucksacks, on a blistering summer day. His commanding officer looked at him and said: “You’re marching with them.”
The commanding officer had little patience for officers who failed to appreciate the burdens of the average soldier under one’s command.
Which brings me to the Legion and its reported communication strategy of pray, pay and ignore the media. The media fog created by those in charge may help them avoid uncomfortable questions in the immediate aftermath; however, it’s a poor long-term strategy. It ignores the reality by which most rank-and-file RC members live – especially when these members are also being pressured to meet increased fundraising and recruiting goals. Where do Regnum Christi (RC) members recruit and fundraise? Well, from orthodox Catholics who are asking serious questions about the allegations, and who are appalled by the Legion’s vague answers.
Nor is it the reality lived by LC priests and RC consecrated RC on the ground – those who rub shoulders regularly with people outside the movement. And thus, like soldiers stranded in the battlefield, they begin making decisions that allow them to get by in the real world, ignoring the unrealistic orders of superiors. This is where the fog of war sets in.
It’s easier to coordinate a battle plan if you have clear chains of command leading up to one person. When you have lots of small groups making decisions on their own, the goal of each being simple survival rather than winning the war, confusion sets in. One group’s method of survival may contradict the next group, thus giving birth to conflict among those on the same side..
Why do I mention this? Well, if recent rumors are true, we are now seeing this happen in the LC/RC.
Late last week Fr. Maciel apologist (and Catholic.net founder) Lucrecia Rego, a high-profile RC member in Mexico, published a blog highly critical of those who believe and discuss the allegations against Fr. Maciel. You can read her blog entry here, in which she makes clear in her response to readers that she is defending Fr. Maciel. The Spanish version of Catholic.net also ran Lucrecia’s apologia here, which makes me believe that the LC/RC-affiliated Catholic.net is standing by Fr. Maciel. (Although I’m curious to see whether its English counterpart will run a translation.)
My Spanish isn’t strong, but Lucrecia’s argument seems to be that we cannot trust the allegations against Fr. Maciel unless we ourselves witnessed his heinous acts. To do otherwise is to gossip and backbite. Moreover, Lucrecia questions the existence of Fr. Maciel’s daughter. Okay, most of this has been standard Legion response thus far.
Except that Legion critics are now receiving reports of a different approach in the RC’s highly active Atlanta section. Reportedly, Fr. Maciel has been denounced there as “pure evil”. Giselle has the preliminary report here. If this report is true, then it suggests the chains of command are breaking down within the movement.
It’s no secret that American members have been the most critical of Fr. Maciel, as well as the Legion’s handling of this crisis, while the Mexicans have been the most supportive (although that too appears to be breaking down, judging from Lucrecia’s complaint that fellow Mexican RC are believing the allegations, and the fact Lucrecia felt the need to respond publicly). What we have here are two responses from LC/RC sources, each contradicting the other in order to appeal to their particular segment of the RC population. In short, it’s a matter of survival as the fog of war sets in.
Can such a communication strategy work in the long-term? As Our Lord says in the Gospels, a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand.

‘I wasted the best years of my life on a fraud.’

I received the following testimony from a young lady who spent several years as a Regnum Christi consecrated. Her experience speaks for itself, as one shared by many consecrated now grappling with the truth about Fr. Maciel. She has kindly allowed me to share it with Catholic Light readers on condition that her identity remain anonymous:

Moving Through the Bitterness
When I left the consecrated life of Regnum Christi several years ago, I promised myself one thing — I wouldn’t let myself get bitter.
I don’t know why, but it always kind of bothered me how former Regnum Christi members, or brothers leaving the Legion, would dedicate themselves to constructing Internet Web sites that spewed hatred about how the movement and Father Maciel ruined their lives. I guess to me it showed a certain amount of immaturity. I mean, we all make our own decisions in life. We can’t blame others for the paths we take that didn’t turn out as we planned.
While I decided I needed to take a break from the RC scene and find myself, I never officially left the movement, and I never allowed myself to regret the years I spent as a consecrated member of the movement. Those were the best years of my life, I would tell myself and others.
During my post-RC years, every once in a while I’d run into a Legionary, or one of those super-star Regnum Christi members (there are certain members who are truly famous in RC circles), and I’d want to get involved again. I should really get back into the swing of things, I thought. I should join a team or help out an apostolate. I wanted to be in the thick of things. It is, after all, my family! No matter what happens in my life, they will always be there for me, and I’ll be there for them.
Then 2006 happened, and Father Maciel was asked to retire to a life of penance. He’s innocent, I thought. This is just like the persecution he’d always prayed for; Father Maciel is being asked to give the ultimate sacrifice — to die in complete and utter ignominy.
But after 2006, something interesting happened. A veil started to be lifted little by little from before my eyes. I couldn’t explain it at the time, but small aspects about the Legion or RC and its members — things that I always just took in stride — would start to grate on me.
I’d see loyal RC members be assigned to important apostolic posts that they weren’t prepared for just because the Legion knew that in a pinch, they could count on them, and it would annoy me. I’d meet up with an old RC friend of mine who couldn’t bring herself to say anything bad about the Legion or Father Maciel, and I’d come away with a bad taste in my mouth. I’d catch up with an ex-consecrated member of the movement and listen to her experience inside the Third Degree (that’s what the consecrated branch of RC is known as), and wonder why her experience could be so different from mine. I’d look for more information on Father Maciel’s case on the Legion Web site, and only find vocation stories, and wish the Legion would be more transparent.
And then there was a close friend of mine — also a fallen-away RC member, and although she had never been consecrated, she had been involved in RC apostolates for years — and together we’d talk for hours about the Legion and our experiences in RC. We’d go over the good times and the bad times, and convince ourselves at the very end that there was more good than bad. Every organization is going to have some bad elements — it’s just human. Even the Church has bad apples. We can’t be surprised that at some level there is nepotism, favoritism, corruption, etc…
Coincidentally, both of us were having serious doubts about our faith. Both of us were depressed, disillusioned with life and where our paths had brought us. Both of us were angry that the best and most productive years of our lives were behind us, and we didn’t take advantage of them the best we could. We were passing through the most existential of existential crises, and we both refused to believe that all of this could have had something to do with RC and our experiences in it.
Then Father Maciel died. I was sad, but I prayed for him and I tried to see things in a “supernatural light.” (Did you know this is a virtue? It’s the ability to see all events through the light of faith. It’s easy to do, but only if you are able to suspend your reason and critical thinking skills).
I was a little taken back, however, when I read that he died in Florida. I don’t imagine retiring in Florida is what Benedict XVI had in mind when he suggested prayer and penance, but I let it go, as I let so many things go.
But what I couldn’t let go was this feeling that my life wasn’t where it should have been. What I couldn’t let go was that before meeting RC, I had this path I wanted to follow, and I took a detour — almost a decade-long if you count the years it has taken me to come to grips with my experiences. What I couldn’t let go was that I couldn’t go back. I lost a decade of my life, and I couldn’t go back. Your late 20s and early 30s are the most pivotal of your professional and social life, and mine were gone — lost.
And now, as I’m reading about Father Maciel’s love child, and prescriptive drug addiction, and his possible other children, and how he used Legion money to fund his philandering, and how the Legion hierarchy is spinning the truth in order to keep the “mystique” alive, I’m seeing things so clearly. And I’m angry, and I’m disillusioned, and I’m depressed, and, oh yeah, I’m bitter.
I’m bitter because I believed all the lies. I’m bitter because I wasted the best years of my life on a fraud. I’m bitter because people I trusted, people I looked to for guidance, people I admired, lied to me — lied right to my face. They told me stories about what a good man Maciel was, what a saint he was. They taught me to see life through a “supernatural light.” They convinced me that I was doing God’s will, that I had been blessed by God with such a beautiful vocation. They brainwashed me. They used me. And then when I was of no use to them, they threw me away. And then, I thanked them.
I’m bitter because I was loyal. I’m bitter because I wouldn’t let myself turn against them, I refused to see all the red flags that are so obvious to me now. I’m bitter because the movement and those involved in it meant more to me than I meant to the movement. I’m bitter because, in the end, I lost. I lost years, I lost dignity, I lost my way.
As I see it, my anger and bitterness — what I most wanted to avoid — is actually my way out. I’m passing through the grieving process. I’m grieving my lost years, and my lost innocence. No longer the naive 20-something, so eager to do God’s will and ready to sacrifice everything for the cause of Christ, I find myself almost an entire decade older, and an entirely different person. Holier? I wouldn’t say that. Smarter? Tons. Wiser? Time will tell. Ready to move on? You have no idea.

What to tell the Apostolic Visitator

One of the big questions readers ask in private emails is the following: What should I tell the apostolic visitator?
Only you know the answer to this question. This is because your experience with the Legion of Christ (LC) and Regnum Christi (RC) is uniquely yours. While there is much validity to the allegation that the LC/RC takes a “cookie cutter” approach to formation, you remain an individual uniquely created by God.
Having said that, here’s what I suggest if you’re still stuck for words:
1 – Pray first, to the Holy Spirit and Our Lady Seat of Wisdom.
2 – Tell the truth, all of it, sticking closely to your experience.
3 – Note any of the following 20 signs of trouble within a religious movement, providing examples that you witnessed. (Click here and scroll down).