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Lives of quiet and not-so-quiet desperation
by Jamie L Manson on Jun. 04, 2009
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Printer-friendly versionSend to friendPDF versionSeven years after the crisis first broke, the Catholic church’s sex abuse scandal finally hit home for me.
It came with a call from my mother, who told me that a priest from my childhood, Fr. Brian McKeon, was dead. It had made the local television news.
“Did you know that he was one of Long Island’s most notorious priest-pedophiles?” my mother asked. She began to quickly recount the details of his crimes and his death, all of which were too grim for me to process. Fr. Brian was among several Long Island priests sued for molesting at least six teenage boys. He struggled for decades with alcoholism, and sometimes drank with the teens. There is a particularly dark story about one of his victim’s committing suicide. Fr. Brian presided at the funeral, and provided comfort -- and then subsequently abuse to the victim’s younger brother. He was moved from parish to parish until the bishop laicized him in 2003, after a parent had placed fliers, stating that he was a pedophile, on 100 cars in a parking lot.
At some point thereafter, Brian moved to Florida and, at the time of his death, was an unemployed nurse. He died at home after suffering several seizures and coughing up blood. His roommate said that he refused medical assistance, and they blamed the seizures on the effects of years of alcohol abuse.
The ironic thing about Brian is that he is one of the only priests with whom I’ve ever had a positive experience.
When I was 13, my father moved to Arizona. My parents had divorced when I was three years old, and, with the exception of a few trips to Florida, I only saw my father every other Sunday. These were not great conditions for forming a deep father-daughter bond, so I was surprised by how much I missed him when my Catholic grammar school hosted a “father-daughter dance.” I was new to the school, and my small eighth grade class had six girls. They all had fathers who, remarkably, were still married to their mothers.
Brian was the new priest at the school’s parish. He was young and kind and accessible. I remember trying to find the courage to ask him if he would be willing to accompany me to the dance. I was a very broken adolescent, struggling with depression and mounting abandonment issues. I was convinced he would say no.
To my surprise, he warmly accepted my invitation. I still have fond memories and a very sweet photo of that evening. Nothing even remotely untoward happened (it turns out that Brian had only a penchant for teenage boys) and in my years of knowing him, I never heard any rumors. He did host a few “boys only” field trips, which raised my mother’s eyebrows. But all of my recollections of him are good, even one particularly poignant story he told our class about his brother’s suicide. His brother was married with small children. Unable to manage his addictions and mounting debt, he jumped in front of a Long Island Rail Road train. That story always remained in my memory, and takes on an even more tragic meaning in the wake of Brian’s death.
Amid the many difficult stories circulating on the Internet about the harm that Brian did to many teenage boys, there are also many stories about his charisma, compassion, and spirituality. Several stories recount that he had a “Jekyll and Hyde” personality: when he was sober, he was a great spiritual friend and leader, but when he drank, his “dark side” would quickly emerge. There is no doubt that he was deeply gifted. But, like so many highly-educated and successful individuals I’ve known, he led a life of quiet desperation. And, in collusion with the church hierarchy, he was forced to stay silent, to be dishonest about his illnesses and pain. There was profound brokenness underneath the abuse.
Brian’s story hits me particularly hard at this point in my life because I work with so many men like him: out of control alcoholics and drug addicts, criminals of all sorts, sufferers of depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder who can only manage their diseases through chemical dependency. In many cases, these circumstances are the cause of their homelessness. They have burned their bridges everywhere else and come to our homeless outreach program because they know that they will still be welcomed with hospitality and warmth. Many of them are among the brightest, most creative, and insightful individuals I’ll ever have the honor of meeting. As challenging as the work can be, one of the paradoxical joys that I receive in this ministry comes from the honesty that our men and women have about their brokenness, their addictions, and their despair. They lead lives of not-so-quiet desperation. In fact, some of them are living-out-loud! I can’t help but find their authenticity courageous, comforting, and deeply life-giving.
Those who come to us seeking mercy, kindness, and generosity, come from a very broken, often empty, place. In order to be truly present to the person’s suffering, the caregiver must be able to face and embrace her or his own pain. It is no coincidence that those who do any kind of outreach work with the most presence are those who are most in touch with their own brokenness. This meeting of vulnerabilities creates the conditions for a healing relationship to form -- a relationship that helps the person in need to transform from a place of fragmentation to a state of wholeness.
The ability to be honest about woundedness is, for me, what is so sorely lacking in my experience with the church. Even when these crises make front page headlines, church authorities still cannot admit that the Body of Christ is deeply broken, nearly shattered. This is ironic, since our faith is founded and centered on a God who continually made Godself vulnerable: first in the incarnation, by taking on human flesh and experiencing human life in all of its pain, sorrow, and joy; then in the crucifixion, where the very incarnation of God is subject to humiliation, torture, and a degrading death.
If the church leaders had found the courage to engage Brian’s struggles with alcoholism and abuse with integrity and genuine presence to his pain, would he have died in a pool of blood, on his apartment floor, far from home? How many families and teenagers could have been spared deep harm and psychological distress if the hierarchy had demonstrated such courage and vulnerability? Was it not a Gospel imperative to care for him and to try to heal him, rather than taking the expeditious route of laicizing him and sending away, completely alone?
The church’s radically inadequate responses to these crises will continue to mount until it finds the courage to admit its own brokenness and to cease resisting its profound vulnerability. It can learn a lot from the men and women who sleep on their steps and beg at their doors and attend Twelve-Step meetings in their basements. Below the surface of silence and desperation, waits a crucified God who longs to meet us in the broken places, touch our wounds, and walk with us to a fuller, more authentic life.
Jamie Manson received her master of divinity degree from Yale Divinity School where she studied Catholic theology, personal commitments and sexual ethics with Mercy Sr. Margaret Farley. She is the former editor in chief of the Yale magazine Reflections, and currently serves as director of Social Justice Ministries at Jan Hus Presbyterian Church, working primarily with New York City’s homeless and poor populations. She is a member of the national board of the Women’s Ordination Conference.
Great piece here. People who
Great piece here. People who hurt people are usually hurting and people who don't hurt people are usually hurting too. We really, really have to realize that is why Jesus came with his message of loving us even WHILE we are not perfect. Until the hierarchy embraces the truth of this message, they will continue to cause more harm. Thanks for sharing. We might not be quite as broken as these people but we all have chips and scratches.
This was a very painful
This was a very painful article to write, Jamie, and yet there is hope and love at the end of it. The content of it is very sad, but the last paragraph made me cry because of its beauty and strength. Well done; one always gets the truth from you, including the brokenness and pain. I am proud to be your co-worker at Jan Hus.
Carol Schachter, Church Administrator
Jan Hus Church and Neighborhood House
Your comment made me go back
Your comment made me go back and reread the last paragraph seperately. And this time rather then rush thru it to get to the end of the article, I took more time to appreciate it. I want to thank you for bringing it to my attention. It is well worth a second, even isolated read.
Jamie, you're clearly what I
Jamie, you're clearly what I call a 'tertiary' victim of McKeon.
His primary victims were the boys he abused.
His secondary victims were their families, friends, employers, and all the other people who were affected by the scars which McKeon left.
His tertiary victims were those whose faith in him he betrayed. For them, an inevitable part of processing the information about who their mentors really were calls into question everything that for which they seemed to stand.
These are often the people who start out by lashing out and railing against the accusers, saying that they're lying, are only in it for money, etc. You haven't done that.
However, your statement "And, in collusion with the church hierarchy, he was forced to stay silent, to be dishonest about his illnesses and pain" is false; it is self-delusional and says more about where you are in your grieving process than anything else.
For you are grieving: Your "loss" is your image of an individual who was kind to you and helped you.
That the assertion is false is clear. These people have, and always have had, a wealth of options avaliable to "take themselves out of the game." Many more, in fact, than the "average Joe" and just about all of them paid
for by the Church. And where psychological treatment was concerned, in many cases higher quality than most of us could find, short of being independently wealthy. McKeon could have done one or more of the following:
Instead he chose to continue to offend.
He continued, apparently, to hold 'boys only' weekends.
He continued, apparently, to soften teens up with alcohol.
Perhaps when his judgement was clouded by alcohol, he didn't have much choice. Or rather, had gotten himself into a situation where he could have or should have known ahead of time that he would have to choose, and where he also should have known ahead of time that he would be in no condition to do so.
But he must have been sober some time, and in those times he continued to indulge himself in his problems by planning the next time he would "fail."
Nobody "forced" him to do that.
This is not idle speculation; my own mentor and spiritual director from teen years turned out to be a serial abuser. It was by the grace of the deity that I escaped becoming a primary victim myself. I knew this man over a period of years, and in retrospect could see the pattern.
He is a great, charming, spiritual guy when not in the grip of his problems.
Rather than taking himself out of the game, though, he would:
As the recent article by Nugent in Commonweal so aptly illustrates, there is ample temptation to view abusers who happen to do some good work along the way, in spite of their problems, as "wounded healers." It's all-too-easy to engage in a sort of hyper-Christianity and seek to see some sort of balance in their lives in order to rationalize offering them a sort of "forgiveness" (what abuse survivors call "the F-word.").
Too often, though, what it's really about is us.
Human beings have a great deal of difficulty with personal enigmas. "How can someone who did me so much good, made me feel so good about myself, do such rotten things over and over again? It can't be? Where they lying to me? Were they doing it to further their personal appetites?"
We like things simple. The very idea that a key player in our spiritual development was a serial rapist, and therefore a criminal, who chose to continue as a criminal, certainly complicates our internal lives.
It is likely, though, The that most of the good that McKeon did for you really came from you.
However, trying to balance "the good" that many of these sociopathic criminals did against their criminal activities is, in my opinion a fool's errand.
Either that, or the musings of someone who has a way to go in healing from their sense of deep betrayal. It's the "bargaining" stage; the next is "despair."
I hope you find "acceptance" soon.
This is a very good comment,
This is a very good comment, Greg.
The above comment reflects
The above comment reflects years of learning to live with reality and the toughness of "how it is". There really are options out there; there really is a thing called "taking individual responsibility for one's life." However the population Jamie is working with, while not to be written off (miracles do happen) may have within it individuals who simply cannot, or will not, grasp a few principles that others seem to manage much more readily.
But working with homeless men requires a certain kind of mercy, and until our society is willing to shell out treatment centers and facilties for the kind of treatment that many of these dually-diagnosed alcoholics and addicts require (and the population also includes veterans with PTSD who have fought for our Country), thank God there are people like Jaime who are willing to dispense a little mercy until more effective and better treatment (there are long waiting lists) becomes available.
Greg: Very insightful
Greg: Very insightful comments. Glad that you wrote them to inform people about the complexity of the sexual abuse done by the clergy and others.
Yes, Jamie, it is hard to be in your current situation in knowing the different lives that McKeon portrayed to others. I also would caution that you maintain balance in your professional life to avoid burnout, etc. May the Spirit of Jesus bring you healing at this time.
Beautiful reflection. Thank
Beautiful reflection. Thank you, Jamie. I am praying for Fr. Brian's soul and for the comfort of all those he hurt.
Is there no joy or love of
Is there no joy or love of Jesus-God come in the flesh and his body the Church, or for the soul of the Church the Holy Spirit? Its really a shame that not word is expended upon the coming of the Holy Spirit in Pentecost. Catholicism is immense peace and joy wrapped in the love of the Trinity-One God! I pray for all the readers here that that may have love, peace, joy and the beauty of forgiveness. Rejoice in Pentecost, especially during this holy Octave- it ought to be eight days of rejoicing. We are bearers of a great hope! Remember that the Catholic way is forgiveness first, then justice not vice versa. Remember the cross of Christ! Rejoice especially in the gifts that were showered on the whole world given during Vatican II. Peace and understanding in Christ! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! The Paraclete has come!
Well said, Snowdrop! Couldn't
Well said, Snowdrop! Couldn't agree more! Thank you for sharing Christ's love with us!
Snowdrop, this jubilation
Snowdrop, this jubilation does not work in response to every account of priestly misbehavior. Human forgiveness is for the benefit of the forgiver. Let's show some empathy for those who do not have it in them to forgive because of what they have experienced.
Snowdrop: Again, your
Snowdrop: Again, your comments are not compassionate but are sorely misplaced in the midst of this personal sharing by Jamie. (In my imagination, I see you, Snowdrop, stopping into a funeral home to view the body of a friend who has died as well as to talk with the friend's loved ones. They are tearfully upset. I see you dressed in a red jacket, smiling profusely and speaking loudly words similar to your comments).
You and your words are disruptive in this instance and are not making "common sense" when compassion (being with the other) is a better response for someone who is grieving and willing to share their story.
Fr Ed Hays, on this site, has made references to the Holy Spirit many times. That would be a more appropriate place for your comments.
May you consider seriously the feedback given by concerned readers with the Spirit's guidance as well as your spiritual director.
A 10 year report in Ireland
A 10 year report in Ireland showed the continuing a buses of the Catholic church there. Besides sexual abuse there were beatings and other abuse of children.
All covered up by church hierarchy.
How can one put any faith at all in the church now?
The church is against same-gender marriage, but for child abuse, hypocrisy and cover-ups?
It's been said before, but
It's been said before, but bears repeating; "There is a saint in ever sinner and a sinner in every saint." We are truly complex individuals. I am both very, very bothered by Fr. Brian's actions as well as wanting very much not to limit my compassion to his victims. I am equally ready to give my compassion to him. Healing only happens when we reconize that the gift of grace to be able to, not just forgive, but offer some understanding and compassion of all that are in termoil and pain is open to all. To deni that is to restrict Gods grace and not allow its trandsandence.
That's all well and good, but
That's all well and good, but you must recognize and be sensitive to the fact that this "hate the sin, love the sinner" and "forgive as Christ would forgive" and so on has been used as a sort of club for years--- nay decades.
In general it has not been a genuinely pious or even a supportive response, but rather a self-serving one.
It has been used by Bishops and dioceses to keep the victims from going public, or from demanding restorative justice and just compensation, and even to keep them from pressing the sort of criminal complaints which would have got the abusers off the streets.
It has been used by pious persons who seek not to have their personal worlds disrupted by the anguished cries of the abused. For these, it's been a pretty wrapper around "I don't want to deal with you; it upsets the tranquility of my world; go away."
We generally find that once people become immersed in the issues surround the sexual exploitation of children and vulnerable adults by Catholic clergy and religious, and do so from the survivors' perspective, that they change their tune regarding the promotion of forgiveness and the engaging in any sort of apologia for the perpetrators.
If for no other reason, such speech can be highly disturbing, triggering, and even re-victimizing to the survivors.
There really is no need for it: we have established, internally, that every person, no matter how evil his or her deeds, is a child of the deity and has an essential dignity and worth.
But at the end of the day, I believe that our speech must be survivor-centric. There are very clear victims and victimizers here and it is terribly important that we serve the former while realizing just how culpable the latter are, and for what.
I am in complete agreement
I am in complete agreement with most of what you said and you said it very well. Much too often minipulating forgiveness from victims has been a way the hierarchy has avoiding taking responsibility. The "hate the sin, but love the sinner", while a noble thought, has been so often so twisted as to mean nothing or as you say; self-serving. The gross insensitivity by so many of our leaders who felt the need to protect the church as if these victims themselves were not "the church" is a scandal and, clearly, much too entrenched in the thinking of our leaders. It is a shame that, even our better instints, in this case forgiveness, is subject to abuse. And the fact that this abuse comes from our religious leaders, well... That said, I none-the-less do stand by the sense of prayerful compassion I feel for both.
Abusers who do so
Abusers who do so intermittently are the hardest to pin down, since every time their actions are questioned, their defenders point out all the good things they do. Frequently, it seems that only the victim is the one who has complaints about the "hot & cold" abuser...
If the perpetrators can turn the abuse on & off in a pattern known to themselves, then they exhibit enough control to be responsible for their actions legally & morally...
Perhaps top Vatican officials & many of the hierarchy need to undergo a few directed basic Catechism reviews & Examinations of Conscience that are taught at the level of 10-12 year olds, since they are failing to bdhave as of responsible contrite adult "leaders"...
It becomes even more
It becomes even more difficult in that, along the same lines, many abusers are highly effective and charismatic ministers... to those whom they are not abusing. And even, in many cases, to those whom they later abuse.
It is by no means a uniform sickness. In some cases, their charisma seems to be part of a conscious "grooming" process.
In others, it seems to be part of what establishes a relationship that later "crosses the line" without extensive pre-planning.
In all cases, the results are devastating.
The effective nature of these individuals in ministry (I give you, for examples, Donald McGuire SJ, John Powell SJ, and allegedly Msgr. Dale Fushek along with a host of lesser known "cool" priests and religious) gives them certain advantages over their victims:
You are correct about the intermittent nature. It isn't so much planned in my experience as a series of "repenting" and "stumbling" at intervals ranging between days and years.
Painful and controversial
Painful and controversial subject. Time to get real, get tough.
Tied in with ALCOHOLISM, PEDOPHILIA, and other SEXUAL ASSAULT ISSUES, is something in some ways more grave:
DOMESTIC VIOLENCE--Family Violence. I have known personally priests and BISHOPS who were/ARE covering up, as we speak. THEY:
1. HAVE NOT HAD SUFFICIENT COUNSELING WITH THEIR OWN ALCOHOLISM ISSUES.
2. Have not had sufficient counseling with their own co-dependency issues (WHICH IS WHY THEY ENABLED THE OFFENDING PRIESTS).
3. Have not had sufficient counseling with their own DOMESTIC VIOLENCE ISSUES. Having grown up in homes where women were not sufficiently HONORED; they see absolutely no reason why women could be ordained.
4. Have not had sufficient counseling IN HEALTHY SEXUALITY.
These deficiencies exist TODAY in more than four United States dioceses, in my personal experience alone.
This is an institutionalized Structure of Sin. We all need to get the word out, pray about this, and get these serious counseling issues addressed, STAT.
Clergy this means YOU. If you haven't done your serious counseling work, you don't authentically love the people you are ministering to. Ironically, because the Catholic Church does not allow women in ordained ministry: you clergy men need to act like REAL MEN, and get humble.
Azura: You are right on!
Azura: You are right on! BRAVO with your words of truth!!!
As a professional chaplain, I heard early on in my training in Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) the necessity of personal counseling/therapy and spiritual direction to make sure I would not pass along my woundedness to others. Unfortunately, within the seminary system in the Catholic Church, CPE is not recommended. CPE is an adult learning model along with personal reflection about your interactions with others with a group of your peers and supervisor.
To become a chaplain, you need a minimum of 2,000 hours of supervision with further assessment by a group of your peers if you desire to be certified by the United States Conference of Bishops. Interesting that Catholic hospital chaplains have the requirement of CPE while this is not required of seminarians and priests already in ministry.
"Sex, Priests, and Secret
"Sex, Priests, and Secret Codes" (Volt Press, 2006)is difficult but, I think, important reading for anyone who wants to understand what lies behind this whole, awful mess. Its three authors (Fr Thomas P. Doyle, A.W.R. Sipe, and Patrick J. Wall) all have impeccable credentials in their various fields; their research and analysis is impressive.
The book's subtitle "The Catholic Church's 2,000-Year Paper Trail of Sexual Abuse" gives a whole new level of meaning to the phrase "Jesus wept."
As far as forgivness is concerned, I don't think that is the primary issue. The primary issue is doing whatever is necessary to stop abuse from happening.
CE makes a very good point
CE makes a very good point and challenges us to move past the anecdotal, wherein lie many traps.
Jamie's story is an example of the anecdotal--- "Father" was good to
her in her experience, and therefore it is difficult to process him as
an unremitting and unrelenting serial child-rapist. As someone who, but
for the protection of his office, would have been imprisoned for a very
long time and in rather short order.
It is the anecdotal that leads well-meaning parishioners to defend their
accused parish priests and in many cases to go on the verbal offensive
against the accusers. They often cross the line and become victimizers
in their own right.
On a factual basis, most Catholics know precious little about the private
lives of priests and religious. Ironically, abuse survivors may have had
occasion to learn much more than the average Catholic. Most of the latter
seem to have gotten their impressions from the media, be it "Going My Way"
or "Sister Act" with "The Flying Nun" in between. In fact, though, life behind
the walls of convents, rectories, and seminaries is quite a bit different
than most would imagine.
The works of Doyle, Sipe, and Wall begins to scratch that surface, especially
as regards what was really happening in the context of abuse. They replace
the anecdotal with the factual.
Still, our priests and religious tend in the main to "keep themselves to
themselves" as regards the real issues inherent to the lifestyle. Nor have
the clergy and religious, as a group, shown a great deal of interest in
having their personal and intra-community lives examined by the laity.
Greg: You are helping me to
Greg: You are helping me to gain more clarity about how to understand the various reactions that people have regarding sexual abuse. I had been puzzled and confused when I would read about parishioners supporting a priest who had been accused of sexual abuse with the facts verified. Great to have your input!!!
I was a classmate of Brian
I was a classmate of Brian McKeon at St. Pius X Prep Seminary and am absolutely astonished at the revelations about him (and about Fr. James Bergin, who was our freshman biology teacher).
While I offer prayers for his victims, I also offer a prayer for Brian, the quiet, friendly teenager I remember from our days in high school.
Jamie, it is extraordinary
Jamie, it is extraordinary how you can see into the complexity of an issue as explosive as this one, and arrive at a place of compassion. Your pastoral feeling shines through.
I just want to add my
I just want to add my agreement with the comments of Greg Bullough beginning with his comment of June 04, 2009.
I find similar kinds of reactions from many sisters in my religious community when it comes to priests they have known well or worked with in parishes or on diocesan levels who are now known pedophiles, sexual abusers of young men, women or vulnerable adults.
I would put those sisters into Bullough's catagory of "tertiary victims." As Greg says,
"His tertiary victims were those whose faith in him he betrayed. For them, an inevitable part of processing the information about who their mentors really were calls into question everything that for which they seemed to stand.
These are often the people who start out by lashing out and railing against the accusers, saying that they're lying, are only in it for money, etc."
I have a very difficult time with sisters who view victim/survivors and their lawyers, of course, as "just in it for the money," who are "out to destroy the church," and who will be the cause of "dioceses going bankrupt and parishes closing." They seem incapable of realizing that institutional church leaders, the bishops, have failed the victim/survivors most of all but they have failed all of us as well.
And that failure by our bishops continues in their unwillingness to support better legislation, accountability and transparency. The situation in the Diocese of Bridgeport, Connecticut is a most telling example with Bishop Lori refusing to abide by that state's Supreme Court ruling ordering the release of thousands of pages of testimony, records, etc.
Sister Maureen Paul Turlish
Victims' Advocate
New Castle, Delaware
maureenpaulturlish@yahoo.com
Thank you, Jamie, for sharing
Thank you, Jamie, for sharing your reflections about the inconceivable depths of the Incarnation. I read often the hymn in the second chapter of the Letter to the Philippians: "Although he was of divine nature, he did not consider his equality with God as something to grab at. Instead, he emptied himself (he gave up all he had) and took the nature of a servant (the brokenness to which you refer)".
When we, and the whole church, take ownership of the brokenness that is ours, we accept to join him in his abasement, in which the promise of glory is rooted.
Hinsdale, Illinois
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