Tag: Regnum

UPDATE: Who were Maciel’s first victims?

[UPDATE: On an interesting – but not as serious – side-note, Berry and Renner confirm that St. Rafael Guiza was among portly saints canonized by the Church. He reportedly struggled with obesity and diabetes, which I find interesting given last week’s discussion on how one rarely encounters portly priests in the Legion (click here).]
Initial Entry
I picked up Jason Berry and Gerald Renner’s Vows of Silence tonight (click here for the DVD with the same name, which includes a Spanish version), after RC Is Not My Life asked me to check the Jesuit connection to Fr. Maciel’s expulsion from the second seminary he attended. It seems that Maciel wasn’t just paranoid – the Jesuits were suspicious of Maciel and the Legion. Berry and Renner report that the Jesuits from the beginning suspected his sexual proclivities.
Yet what caught my eye in re-reading their chapter on Maciel’s seminary days was his expulsion from his uncle’s seminary, the first seminary Maciel attended. Particularly how it relates to the death of St. Rafael Guizar Valencia, who was Maciel’s uncle, sponsoring bishop and rector of the first seminary Maciel attended. Maciel always claimed expulsion due to a “misunderstanding” after his saintly uncle’s death. Berry and Renner explore the alleged misunderstanding, shedding the following light (carefully footnoted) on page 155:

Bishop Guizar died on June 6, 1938. The Legion history says that “misunderstandings” arose. “Marcial had to leave the seminary.” [LC priest and biographer Fr. J. Alberto] Villasana reports that two months after the “holy death” of his uncle, “the vicar-general of the vacant see and the new provisional rector expel from the seminary ‘the Bishop’s spoiled nephew who is planning a foundation‘”–a religious order. The italics are Villasana’s; the quotation is clearly Maciel’s interpretation of what the two churchmen of his uncle’s diocese thought of him. The self-absorbed Maciel misses the implication of two church superiors, in a persecuted land, washing their hands of a seminarian from an influential family. “Spoiled” begs the larger question: what in his character made them recoil?
An even darker explanation may underlie the expulsion. The day before Bishop Guizar died, he had been heard shouting angrily at Maciel. He was giving his eighteen-year-old nephew a dressing down after two women had come to the bishop’s house to complain about Maciel, who was their neighbor. Father Orozco, who was among the original group of boys to found the Legion of Christ in 1941, said he heard the women had complained about the “noise” Maciel was making with children he had brought into his home to teach religion. He said that the seminary officials blamed Maciel for his uncle’s heart attack.

Berry and Renner are careful in their presentation of the alleged incident. They don’t accuse Maciel of molesting children or indirectly causing his uncle’s death. Rather they present the testimony of someone who was present, noting unusual circumstances, and leave us to draw our own conclusions. But given what we now know of Maciel’s double-life, along with what we know about St. Rafael as a holy bishop who sought always what was right in the eyes of God despite the persecution he would suffer, I think we can conclude fairly that this incident concerned more than a mere “misunderstanding”.
As Berry and Renner point out in subsequent passages, the Catholic Church in Mexico was undergoing a severe persecution. The Church was starving for priests. Maciel was from an influential Church family that included two bishops. Yet as Berry and Renner state, two church superiors nevertheless expelled Maciel from his uncle’s seminary.
But let’s look at this from the perspective of other parties who were present. What would compel two church ladies – who, in allowing their children to be catechized during a time of persecution, were likely risking their lives and the physical welfare of their children – to come forward and denounce the seminarian nephew of a bishop much beloved by the Catholic faithful?
One might argue they were anti-Catholic agents who were trying to bring embarrassment upon the Church, but this doesn’t fit the circumstances. First, they approached St. Rafael with their allegations, rather than civil authorities who were looking for any stick with which to beat the Church. Second, St. Rafael acted on their complain, jacking up his nephew in anger. What would compel this holy man of God to tear down his own flesh and blood seeking to follow in his footsteps unless he found the women and/or their allegations credible?
So once again we find Maciel’s life as murky as his sexual proclivities. Which begs the question, who were Maciel’s first victims?

Mgr. Palud corrects me, and he’s looking for vocations

Monsignor Michael Palud – a knowledgeable priest whose many titles includes doctor of canon law, Vicar General of the Diocese of Mandeville, and Prior General of the Missionary Society of Mandeville – has gently corrected my earlier comments about how the society was founded out of the ashes of the Fils de Marie, which were based upon media reports I had read. (And before I forget, please check out the related Journey of a Young Priest blog – well worth reading for those following the LC situation). I apologize for the inaccuracies in my initial report, and appreciate Mgr. Palud taking time to correct the record (which I have bolded and italicized) and give CL readers a first-hand account of how his institute was founded – an experience that gives hope to those currently in LC/RC:

Dear Pete,
Interesting comment, although not totally accurate. Allow me to expand. Before the Fils de Marie saga broke out, indeed a few years before that, the officials of the Propagation of the Faith advised Bishop Boyle, former Superior General of the Passionists and First Bishop of Mandeville, that he might consider founding a missionary group of men dedicated especially for mission work in the Caribbean and to sustain the missionary works of the Diocese. I was his Vicar General at the time (and still am the Vicar General of the Diocese). I encouraged Bishop Boyle to go forward. He was touched by my enthusiasm, but said to me, “Mike, I am too old to begin something new, and then again, I would need a group of men to begin this.”
When the Fils de Marie became manifestly heretical, the Superior General–after the Doctrinal Note of 2000 bearing Cardinal Ratzinger’s signature was published–ordered all the Sons of Mary “back home” to Canada. Five Sons of Mary, including myself, left the institute and remained in the Diocese of Mandeville. We were just interested in continuing our lives as missionaries, under the guidance of our Bishop like all the other missionaries in the Diocese.
It was then that the BISHOP approached us and proposed to us the project which the authorities in Rome had nudged him to do a few years earlier. He first convoked me and asked me if I remembered what he had told me about this project. “Of course, I remember Your Excellency, I even pushed your Excellency to go forward with it.”
He replied, “Yes, that is correct. I was thinking of giving that project to you and your men [who left the Sons of Mary].”
I said to him, “If that is your intention, Your Excellency, you will have to speak with the men yourself.”
So, a few days later, he convoked us all to his office, thanked us for remaining faithful to the Church and the People of God then he sat us together and gave to all present what was to be our initial legislation [remember, Paul Boyle was an excellent canonist]. One of our members asked if we could reflect on this before embarking on this new venture he was proposing to us.Indeed, the separation from our Institute had been painful. Naturally he said yes and we took time to pray and discern. Then we said yes to this project.
Our charism of course is Passionist, Marian and Missionary. We have an excellent relationship with the Passionist General and of course with our new Bishop who is a Passionist. Indeed we are considered a “branch” of the Passionists (like there are many branches in the Franciscan family).
We are configured as a Diocesan Society of Apostolic Life. After our consent to his project, Bishop Boyle formally founded and established the Mission Society of Mandeville by episcopal Decree. He received the perpetual incorporation of the first members. He then appointed a Passionist as our first Master of Novices as vocations started coming to join us. The rest is history.
We run a high school, a home for abandoned children, two parishes, a mission station and we staff the Passionist Retreat House and do retreat work..A number of us occupy curial positions. As for me, I am still the Vicar General of the Diocese, another member is the Diocesan M.C. and Liturgy Director. Another member occupied the Office of Youth Ministry for a number of years. We are also involved in tertiary education within the Catholic College of Mandeville. Our life is totally “poured out” for the sake of he missions in this developing country.
Indeed, we would welcome anyone who is serious, hard-working, has a genuine love for the Eucharist, the Blessed Mother and the Magisterium (a good sensus Ecclesiae!), has a genuine sense of mission and being with the People of God, and ready to lay down his life in the Mission Lands forever by proclaiming the memory of the Passion to our People.
We have more work than we have men. We were asked to open in other areas of the Caribbean. So, anyone interested can petition, and we will help them in the process.
I just wanted to set the record straight that we did not intend to begin something new. We did not approach our Bishop. He approached us with this project, founded our Institute, guided us, presided the first General Chapter and obtained a first grant from the Propagation of the Faith to help us begin the Mission Society of Mandeville. He has left this world, but has left us a legacy intimately tied to mission life, passionist and marian spirituality.
Out of a terrible experience of death came new life. And I am grateful for it.
Monsignor Michael Palud, JCD
Vicar general of the Diocese
Prior General of the Mission Society

Again, thank-you Monsignor for correcting the record, fpr doing so with charity, and for giving hope to others now going through what you went through a decade ago. Now let’s see if we can net you some vocations!

Stephen King gets it? Does Fr. Alvaro?

Cassandra Jones posted a report of Fr. Alvaro’s homily at yesterday’s Legion of Christ professions in Cheshire. You can read Cassandra’s report here. Fr. Alvaro spent quite a bit of time asking for forgiveness, Cassandra states. But in reading over the report I keep asking myself Forgiveness for what?
Fr. Alvaro appears to allude to the Fr. Maciel scandal on several occasions. I say “appears to” because one is never entirely clear from reading Cassandra’s report that this is what the Legion’s Director General is referring to in sprinkling spiritual advice with mea culpas. As Cassandra’s source reports: “I wanted to know how the scandal would be handled, so that’s what I will emphasize. It was not mentioned directly at all, of course, but a lot of what Father Alvaro was saying seemed to relate to it very closely.” (Emphasis mine). For an order whose defenders were quite specific in denouncing their founder’s victims, “seemed to” is not enough.
Allow me to digress as I confess the following: I have a weakness for Stephen King. (Or in current Legion-speak, “The troubling imagination of a certain modern author has integrated itself into my personal library, which is kept separate from my professinal and spiritual library.”) Some of it goes back to my budding years as a writer, exploring Catholic themes through short horror stories. Some of it, I am sure, is due to the ministry God has called me to as a canon lawyer, which often deals with the darker aspects of man’s fallen nature.
Regardless, there’s a common discrepancy in Stephen King’s writing that I first noticed when reading Needful Things. It’s in the way he portrays clergy. Protestant clergy are generally nutty fundamentalists, no different than Hollywood’s usual stereotype. This contrasts with how King typically portrays Catholic clergy – conservative, heroic, dedicated to the welfare of their flock and of their community, and struggling to overcome one or two minor personal flaws. In short, King often portrays Catholic clergy both sympathetically and realistically as good ministers struggling to be saints.
What makes this fascinating is that King is not Catholic. He was raised by his mother, a strict Methodist who struggled as a single mother to hold the family together after King’s father walked out. It’s his wife Tabitha who is Catholic. Moreover, he disagrees strongly with the Church’s teaching on contraception, as he has made clear through both his fiction and non-fiction. Nevertheless, his fundamentalist protestant clergy tend to be one-dimensional fanatics (The Stand‘s Mother Abagail a noted exception), while his Catholic clergy tend to be multi-layered, reflective and human. The contrast becomes all the more fascinating when King’s Protestant and Catholic characters interact.
Which brings me back to Cassandra’s report about Fr. Alvaro’s homily yesterday. As I read through the report, wondering what Fr. Alvaro was asking forgiveness for, my mind wandered to an incident in one of King’s books. It begins with the child of a Bible fundamentalist doing something naughty to a Catholic neighbor. It might have been a rude insult or a small act of vandalism, and I think the book was The Regulators. I can’t recall the details and it’s been several years since I read it, so I apologize if I recall the story vaguely or incorrectly.
Yes, I apologize. Specifically, I apologize for my recollection that is not as specific as my apology. And this, according to King as he describes the incident, is what distinguishes devout Catholics from fundamentalist Protestants.
In the book, the child’s father frog-marches the kid before the victim of the child’s bad behavior. The child alludes to the wrong-doing, if I recall correctly, but doesn’t actually name it. The child beats himself up verbally, inviting the wronged party to follow up with a physical beating as the kid’s father watches on. What follows is my recollection of the passage.
The victim suppresses a smirk, looks down at the child, and says something along the lines of “I just want you to do one thing. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you did wrong.”
Upon hearing this, the child transforms from resigned and robotic to visibly uncomfortable. He begins to squirm and looks up at his father with a pitiful gaze. Father is as horrified as son and begins to protest as parent. Speaking through the voice of the narrator – or perhaps the child’s victim – King launches into a thought about how admitting to one’s wrong-doing is the worst form of punishment one can inflict upon a Christian fundamentalist, who sees no value in the sacrament of confession. On the other hand, Catholics understand that freedom from sin only comes when one lets it out by confessing to the wrong-doing. What an interesting insight from a writer of psychological horror.
In short, Stephen King gets it. He may not have been raised Catholic; his novels may be saturated with dark themes and four-letter words; he may lack the grace of holy orders, of advanced degrees in Catholic theology, of being the head of a large Catholic order – but in spending a lifetime observing and writing about the darker side of our fallen nature, he understands that forgiveness and healing are tied to a specific admission of one’s wrong-doing and guilt. So he gets it.
Here’s the question: Does Fr. Alvaro?

UPDATED: Jane is a meanie…

…if you’re thinking of recruiting young people into RC-sponsored apostolate without disclosing to their parents the current scandal surrounding Fr. Maciel. Earlier this week she asked a couple of good questions of a reader struggling with this issue:

A good question ask youself – why would you recruit people to something you cannot speak frankly about? That you feel has elements to it which you would like to keep hidden? [Emphasis mine]

This is a reminder that the best insights are often the most obvious ones. Christ declares in the Gospels that He is “The way, the truth, and the life,” while denouncing Satan as “the father of lies.”
Thus Christ’s mission is tied to truth. We neither serve Him nor build up His kingdom when we resort to lies, deceptions or half-truths. For the latter falls under the domain of the devil, as Christ clearly warns. So ask yourself this: Is this information you would conceal if you were recruiting for any non-LC/RC related apostolate? What if you were recruiting for your employment?
Given the context of this discussion, I find it ironic that even Fr. Maciel understood that lying is unacceptable to God and brings embarrassment upon the Church. As he himself states:

We should never lie for any reason whatsoever. It is a mortal sin when God is greatly offended by causing damage against religion, the Church or Authority, or when the name and good reputation of other people is considerably damaged… “Lips that lie are abhorrent to Yahweh” (Proverbs 12:22). (Bermuda 23 February 1962)

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.'”