Expressing outrage at my Let us prey… entry, Fed up RC states: “1. It is a sin to make false accusation without [sic.] subtantial basis to prove the facts.”
Since Fed up RC appears to be presenting this principle as universally applicable to Catholics, I will respond with a quote attributed to Fr. Owen Kearns, in which the high-profile LC priest reportedly describes Juan Vaca (Maciel’s first accuser) as “a proud, status-conscious man angered and disappointed at his professional failures.”
That’s quite the accusation against a former colleague. To my knowledge Fr. Kearns has not retracted it publicly. And as of this writing I am told Mr. Vaca has not received an apology from the Legion. So where’s the proof?
Tag: Regnum
Let us prey…
Giselle says I shamed her into posting about how the Legion churns out Fr. Eye Candy for women. I don’t claim to understand it, but I also don’t know of any other Catholic order so particular about its grooming practices as to reportedly include them in its institutional norms. Moreover, as a guy I know there are certain priests – HLI’s Fr. Thomas Euteneuer being a good example – that just strike us as a men’s men.
That being said, I’ve often wondered over the years, privately, why most Regnum Christi members I know are women, while most of my Opus Dei friends are men. Of couples I know in “mixed marriages,” the husband belongs to Opus Dei and the wife belongs to Regnum Christi. I’ve never met a Regnum Christi husband married to an Opus Dei wife.
But back to Giselle’s comments. She says something that immediately sets off my spiritual spidey-sense:
Spiritual headship is not a trump card with these women because the Legion priests have undermined it all these years, teaching the women to wheedle their husbands for more time and money for the Legion. (There is a reason the women’s sections always outnumber the men’s sections.) For those who don’t go to the brink of divorce (or split outright), there is a squaring off within marriages whereby the wife makes her RC commitments sacrosanct and the husband acquiesces for the sake of his sanity.
I’ve been present while the Legion pitches this. One Morning of Reflection, we were all led along the path: “You are princesses (because you are daughters of a King!)” Well, technically yes (though I like “You’re a worm and no man” better). But many of the women were in tears. What the priest touched on cleverly was their brokeness, their insecurities, and their random experiences of abuse. He built them up, using his own brand of “self esteem potion” so that they were putty in his hands. They literally fought to cook for him and to be the most active and industrious volunteers in the coming years.
Some of the nastiest annulment cases I have ever participated in are those in which a priest came between husband and wife. I’m not talking an abusive situation where the priest advised the wife to get out for the personal safety of her and her children. Rather I’m talking about cases where the wife spent more time with the priest than with her husband. Most of the cases involved Catholics who would be considered orthodox.
The relationship between wife and priest was rarely one of sexual attraction. Rather, husband is busy at work, while Father is busy in the parish. Wife becomes active in the parish because Father is “such a holy priest” and she begins to put his needs before those of her husband and family back home. Relieved at the help he’s receiving, Father affirms wife for everything she contributes to the parish and gives her more responsibilities. He intentionally avoids questioning wife about her marriage and home life because he doesn’t want to know. He needs help in the parish! So long as the relationship isn’t sexual, he can justify it as necessary for the greater good of souls. And Father will tell the tribunal that wife is a good woman who hubby grew to resent when she began to take her Catholic faith seriously.
Not really. The vocation of wife and mother is not the vocation of woman religious. Both vocations are good, but there’s a reason God has separated them. No apostolate should come before one’s family.
I am also troubled by Giselle’s story of grown women being described as “princesses”. Sure I refer to my own daughters as princesses, and with three of them Disney has cost me a small fortune in Princess swag. But that’s part of the charm of being father to little girls. You raise them hoping one day they will find their Prince Charming.
However, I don’t see “princess” as appropriate to an audience of wives and mothers. As St. Paul says in 1 Cor 13:11: “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways.” Thus I find it charming when our parish priest greets my daughters before Mass, saying “Hello princesses.” But I would find such flattery creepy if Father addressed my wife in the same way. So would she.
What pops into my mind is St. Ignatius Loyola’s Thirteen Rule of spiritual discernment – a rule drilled into the head of every Jesuit prior to ordination:
Likewise, [the devil] acts as a licentious lover in wanting to be secret and not revealed. For, as the licentious man who, speaking for an evil purpose, solicits a daughter of a good father or a wife of a good husband, wants his words and persuasions to be secret, and the contrary displeases him much, when the daughter reveals to her father or the wife to her husband his licentious words and depraved intention, because he easily gathers that he will not be able to succeed with the undertaking begun: in the same way, when the enemy of human nature brings his wiles and persuasions to the just soul, he wants and desires that they be received and kept in secret; but when one reveals them to his good Confessor or to another spiritual person that knows his deceits and evil ends, it is very grievous to him, because he gathers, from his manifest deceits being discovered, that he will not be able to succeed with his wickedness begun.
Beware of flattery. It’s never from God and there is always some seduction behind it.
And on that note, I’ll end this post by answering Giselle’s priestly pin-ups with my own:
What you see, dear reader, is 100 percent Semper Fi!
Fear is not a charism
I received an interesting email from a reader, who like many readers wonders what one should do when one’s entire family is involved in RC. The reader kindly gave me permission to rewrite and blog it:
There are individuals and families who have been involved in RC for 10, 12, 15 years. Some families include mom, dad, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and children – all RC. How does one objectively discern one’s path through this scandal when one’s own family members are diehard RCs. How does one dissent from the group? What does Sunday dinner at Grandma’s house look like when one decides to leave, or take a ‘time out’?
I can appreciate your tough situation. The best solution, in my opinion, is to speak the truth in charity. I won’t lie: your family may hate you for it, in which case you will hear back immediately. Or they may feel the same way you do, and are just waiting for someone to speak up because they’re scared they’re the only ones who feel this way. You would be surprised how many readers describe your situation when emailing me. Giselle and I have heard from several folks who, like you, are appalled by the Legion’s response thus far.
Many of your friends and family will object strenuously at first, but most will come around later if your words “have the ring of truth” to them. After all, who wants to associate openly with a liar, a fraud and a serial pervert? Would you let your daughter date Marcial Maciel? (What about your son?)
What holds the system together, as far as I can tell from reader response, is fear. Fear of a system that crushes dissent. Fear of loss of status and reputation within the movement and the parish. Fear of whisper campaigns. Fear of spending the next 15 minutes as Hans Kung when accused of going against Pope John Paul II because he approved a set of constitutions under the mistaken belief that a founder practiced what he preached. Fear of admitting one was wrong about Maciel’s victims who spoke the truth. Fear about being labeled judgmental (This is going to sound more harsh than what I intended, but it needs to be said: An unrepentant serial abuser and pedophile is not your moral superior. Neither are those who demand you not judge his actions, or those who continue to show him public gratitude while his victims wait for an apology and restitution of their good name. Nor are they your intellectual superiors, regardless of how many degrees they obtained from pontifical universities.) Fear of doing what is right.
Fear, however, is not a charism.
At least not one that comes from the Holy Spirit. Christ is the way, the truth and the life. He states clearly that the truth will set us free. If one fears speaking the truth in charity, then one is not listening to the Holy Spirit. And so the fear continues.
I recall interviewing Bishop Fred Henry for a pro-life publication last year. For American readers, His Excellency is a Canadian Bishop so outspoken for the truth that he makes Bishop Fabian Bruskewitz look timid in comparison. “I didn’t set out to be controversial when I was consecrated a bishop,” he told me on the record. “It just happened because I never feared to speak the truth. Why should we fear? The worst they can do to you is chop off your head. In which case, Christ says we win.”
In looking back at how this scandal has played out since February, Fr. Berg is the only Legion priest to survive with his credibility intact. The blogs parse every statement of every LC priest, looking for evidence of ambiguity and double-talk. The one exception is Fr. Berg, whose statements are taken at face value.
Why? Because from the beginning Fr. Berg did not fear to speak the truth in public. He may not have succeeded in reforming the Legion, but his fearless speaking of the truth in charity invigorated Regnum Christi members to demand better of Legion leadership, to demand the Holy See intervene with an apostolic visitation, to demand that the truth be made public.
If the Legion movement somehow manages to reform, it will be because Fr. Berg put truth before fear. And if the Legion disintegrates because its members dis-integrate, it will be because they put fear before truth. Nevertheless, Fr. Berg will still have survived with his reputation and the Westchester Institute intact – again because he put truth before fear
And so the best course of action, whether it be with one’s family, one’s section or one’s superiors, is to speak the truth openly and in charity. That and prayer to St. Joseph.
On contacting victims – Is this how a family treats its children?
When news of Maciel’s daughter first went public back in February, many LC/RC defenders likened the situation to a family discovering their father had kept a second family on the side. I can both understand and appreciate this analogy. In fact, it was the first thing that came to mind as I read the following email from a reader (rewritten slightly to disguise the correspondent’s writing style):
I asked my RC director if the General Director had contacted the original eight victims. She said she didn’t know, but asked me why I assumed Fr. Alvaro was speaking about the original eight accusers. She said there are victims still in the LC who are coming forward, and that Fr. Alvaro, because he is General Director, will take care of victims within the LC family first and those on the outside later. This is just like a father would take care of those kids in his family first if there was an issue, my director said. This did not sit well with me. What are your thoughts on this?
Let’s suppose you’re the mother in the analogy used by the Legion back in February. Let’s suppose you just discovered that your deceased husband had abused your children and made your family do without while supporting a mistress in the next town, that he had lied to you when some of your children approached you to complain about the abuse, and that he had deceived you into disowning them and turning them away from your doorsteps.
Would you only look after the children who remained in your household? Or would you, as a mother, seek out your estranged children – those who ran away or who you threw out of the house – because they had tried to make you aware of the abuse and you didn’t want to believe them? And would you threaten any child in your household who sought out his or her estranged brothers and sisters, in order to apologize and repair the fraternal relationship?
One’s children remain one’s children, even when they find themselves estranged from their family.
Losing my vocation
One topic that keeps resurfacing in LC/RC discussion is the pressure families feel to recruit, join Regnum Christi (RC), and ship their children off to Legion of Christ (LC) schools. Vocations are fragile – that’s the justification often expressed – and must be sheltered and protected from the world, where too many temptations abound. The implication being as follows: Not to ship off one’s child to these spiritual bomb-shelters is to endanger one’s child and his vocation.
This begs a few questions. For example, where are LC priests and RC lay consecrated suppose to minister once they emerge from their spiritual cocoons? As St. John Chrysostom teaches, monastic life and parish priesthood are both pleasing to the Lord, but they require different training.
The RC/LC are often compared to Opus Dei, which came into being around the same time. Both projects were founded by young Spanish-speaking priests during a tumultuous time in their national history, when the Church was under persecution. Both drew Catholics looking for a more fervent expression of the faith.
Having said that, here are some notable differences. St. Josemaria Escriva always saw Opus Dei as an apostolate of Christ embracing the world. Subsequently, Opus Dei members interact with the world quite a bit through social activities, education and the pursuit of professional practice and credentials. Rather than ship teenage boys off to apostolic schools, these young men are encouraged to pursue spiritual and academic excellence, to develop a trade or profession toward which they are suited, and to be active in the world.
There’s no pressure to join Opus Dei as a numerary or supernumerary. The vast majority of people I have encountered at Opus Dei events are cooperators – that is, non-members who support Opus Dei’s work but who do not feel called to membership. They participate in some spiritual and social activities, insofar as they feel called and find time to do so.
And Opus Dei is happy with that. They understand that a vocation to numerary or supernumerary is a calling from God that needs to be discerned carefully through prayer and contemplation. So Opus Dei’s usual reaction when someone wishes to become a cooperator, numerary or supernumerary, is to tell the individual to slow down and take time for discernment before Our Lord.
Yet what about priestly vocations? Some priests discern a vocation to Opus Dei having already been ordained, but the majority are called from the ranks of numeraries – that is, the celibate male members. Most of these individuals are well-established in professional careers as doctors, lawyers, engineers, accountants, business professionals, university professors, etc. In other words, they’re out there in the world, interacting with other people, living in the world, conversant of the world, but not of the world, yet attempting to embrace the world as Christ embraced the world from the cross. Far from being sheltered throughout most of their lives, Opus Dei seminarians enter their seminary formation with proven track-records as spiritual and professional leaders.
This may seem risky to those more familiar with the LC/RC model. To become a priest with Opus Dei, a young man must first finish his schooling, which often involves attending secular schools and universities, then he must practice his profession for some time – all while discerning a lay vocation with the Work. Then he must continue to practice his profession as a member of the movement, while simultaneously taking on leadership positions within the movement. Once he is established in his prayer life, his professional career and his Opus Dei apostolate – and only then! – does he begin to discern the call to holy orders. Which requires more prayer and discernment before Opus Dei ships him off for seminary formation.
So many steps before he even starts his seminary formation! So many potential roadblocks, distraction and temptations. How could a young man possibly make it to priesthood without losing his vocation?
Well… let’s see what the numbers say. The LC/RC boast 800 priests, 2,500 seminarians and 75,000 lay members of Regnum Christi. In comparison, Opus Dei’s numbers are as follows: 1,900 priests and 85,000 lay members.
If priestly vocations are so fragile that they must be sheltered from the world – sheltered even from good Catholic parents and the family structure, as reportedly happens with the Legion’s apostolic schools – how does one account for the fact that Opus Dei has over twice the number of priests as the Legion? Both movements were founded around the same time under similar external circumstances, both appeal to a similar audience, but Opus Dei sends its young men out into the world to live as laymen before calling them back to priesthood, whereas the Legion – like the fearful servant in the Gospel – buries its talents in a field, away from human eyes.
And I’m not even commenting upon the quality or durability of vocation. Opus Dei has one of the lowest defection rates in the Church. Once ordained a priest with Opus Dei, you will probably remain a priest with Opus Dei until you die. On the other hand, nobody quite knows the defection rate for LC clergy – and of the dozen or so English-speaking bloggers who regularly comment on the LC/RC scandal, FOUR are former LC/RC clergy. And this doesn’t include numerous readers commenting on the blogs – some now professed atheists – who introduce themselves as former Legion clergy or seminarians.
So remember St. John Chrysostom’s advice to parents (and as a saint, doctor and father of the Church, his means have been tested throughout the centuries and found credible): you are raising children, not monks. If God has a vocation for your children, whether it be priest or monk, He will call them when the time is right.