Connelly: Lessons from a Catholic whose silence gave consent

An aged priest made a sexual advance on me, years ago in college. In retrospect I realize my response was as maladroit as that of the bishops described last week in the Pennsylvania attorney general's report detailing 70 years of clergy abuse in seven dioceses.

I was on the Chicago South Shore Railroad (nickname: the vomit comet) headed for reunion with a Bellingham friend going to college in the Windy City. The priest sat down in the next seat, seemed to be a learned and cordial gentleman.

After a time, he suddenly placed his hand on my crotch, and started to feel me up.

My response was to grab his hand, give him the hardest possible elbow in the ribs, and tell the guy: "That's utterly disgusting! What you're doing ... you are a sicko. You are an embarrassment and disgrace to the church you serve. Get help, you sorry m*****f*****."

The padre said I ought to watch my language.

Well, there I left it. Didn't summon a nearby cop. Got off the train at the next stop. I didn't tell priests at Notre Dame or mention it to my roommate. The only fear felt on the trip was brief failure of the vomit comet's shaky brakes coming back into South Bend. I have never mentioned what happened until drafting this column.

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What was misguided, I now understand, was how I was concerned for the Church when I was the person the priest had sought to violate.  I told the guy to get help, which is what bishops have done with "problem" priests before returning them to parish duty where they could abuse again.

The Holy Cross priests who taught me at Notre Dame were/are splendid people. Yet, the university's response to scandal has often been the protection of its image. We had a senior administrator found to have had sexual relations with young men he was counseling. The solution: a quick exit without explanation.

What generated the urge to cover up? Father John Whitney, S.J., a former Jesuit provincial and pastor at St. Joseph Church, wrote bluntly of an attitude by the hierarchy, "better that for some innocents to suffer abuse than for the 'Church' (a term that -- in the minds of many bishops -- became synonymous with themselves) should suffer shame."

Or as Pope Francis wroter Monday in a letter to the world's 1.2 billion Catholics: "We showed no care for the little ones; we abandoned them."

No longer. Cardinal Law may have denounced the Boston Globe, but its 2002 expose of sexual abuse in the Archdiocese of Boston gave birth to a "zero tolerance" policy toward abusers, and an end to the fantasy that they could be "cured."

Not enough, however. Pope Francis has removed two bishops who covered up abuse, and taken a tough response to revelations about influential Cardinal Theodore McCarrich. He has done a mea culpa for defending an enabler bishop in Chile.

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What now? A few suggestions:

--Re-engage, don't leave: The church needs a confidential, safe and lay-dominating system where cardinal sins and clergy misdeeds can be reported. Given bishops' powers, a major thrust from lay people and intervention from the top (Francis) is needed to make this happen.

Bishops have depicted themselves as "shepherds" presiding over a "flock." Nonsense. People are not sheep, accurately referred to by John Muir as "hoofed locusts." God gave us the power of reason and a conscience. Mother Church, respect that.

--The United States needs better bishops: Francis had delivered sharp words toward "careerists" in the hierarchy and "airport bishops" flying about to advance their careers. What's needed is a new generation of pastoral bishops.

Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI filled the hierarchy with orthodox, careful "company men" who saw protection of the church as their highest calling. The hierarchy should have learned: Cover-ups harm the victim initially, but later the institution.

--The priesthood should be opened up: The clergy shortage, and scandal, dictate a new look at the talent pool. Why cannot the Catholic Church welcome men -- and women -- who feel a religious calling, even with successful careers and families?

I once did a meditation class at the Shalem Institute in Washington, D.C., with a man named Charles Gilchrist and his wife Phoebe. Gilchrist was a successful lawyer (Sullivan and Cromwell), had been elected Montgomery County Executive and was on a fast path to become Governor of Maryland . . . if the state was ready for an honest one.

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Instead, he was called to become a priest, and was a splendid one. Alas, he passed away early from Pancreatic cancer. When I was last in D.C., however, a drop-in center for the homeless at St. Margaret's Episcopal Church at DuPont Circle still bore his name: Charlie's Place.

Surely there are Charlies in the Catholic Church who could make splendid priests and bishops. Open up the clergy and let in some fresh air and talent.

The impetus to find light in this dark hour will come not from the company men, but from the bottom up and the top down. As the Very Rev. Michael Ryan wrote to his congregation at St. James Cathedral this weekend:

"We have our work cut out for us. As we refuse to tolerate any further cover-ups or dishonesty on the part of Church leaders, we must demand of ourselves the same faithfulness, honesty, integrity and courage we demand of them."

( columnist/blogger Joel Connelly can be reached at