False Accusations
by Fr. Roger Landry - July 9, 2010
One of the least covered aspects of the clergy sex abuse crisis concerns priests falsely accused. It is hard to put into words what it is like for a man who has dedicated himself to the love of God and others, who has sought not only to preach but to put into practice the Gospel, and who has tried to be a model of Christian conduct for his parishioners all of a sudden to be accused not only of being a hypocrite against his priestly promises but of being guilty of having committed some of the most despicable actions anyone could imagine.
Even if the priest's reputation is impeccable and the allegations patently ludicrous, it is still terribly shameful and embarrassing for the priest to have to deny to parishioners, family members, fellow clergy, the police and the public in general that he is child molester.
In those cases when a preliminary ecclesiastical investigation determines that the allegation is credible — meaning that it is possible, not probable — the ignominy only grows, as, out of an abundance of caution, Church policy requires the priest immediately to vacate the rectory, go on a leave of absence from the parish and other assignments, stop wearing clerical dress and functioning publicly as a priest, and participate in a process that is supposed to be swift but often in practice takes years to clear his name. While this is going on, his photograph and name are prominently featured on the front pages of newspapers, at the beginning of television newscasts, and throughout the internet next to the horrible words "sexual abuse of minors." And despite the presumption of innocence in society and in canon law, he is often treated by the majority as guilty until his innocence is proven.
Priests — except, obviously, those who have been falsely accused — can take some solace in the fact that mendacious incriminations are relatively rare. According to the 2004 study by the John Jay College of Criminal Justice, only 1.5 percent of all sex abuse allegations against Catholic priests in the United States between 1950-2002 were determined to be false after investigation. Experts say, however, that the percentage of false accusations has increased somewhat since then as large monetary awards given in mediated settlements have enticed some dishonest claimants to come forward. A report prepared for the U.S. bishops earlier this year documented that in 2009, there were 21 allegations of the sexual abuse of minors against Catholic priests in America: eight of these were acknowledged as truthful by the offending clergy, four were determined to be without foundation, one accusation was recanted and eight are still under investigation. Right now, according to the organization Justice for Priests and Deacons, there are 300 American priests insisting on their innocence in cases before the Vatican.
In this mini-series on what we can learn from saints to respond in a holy way to the sexual abuse crisis, it's important for us to tackle the question of how to respond to false allegations. It is obviously something of enormous relevance to priests who have been untruthfully accused. It is also useful for all priests and seminarians who humanly cannot but think about it and who often alter their behavior to minimize the possibility of false accusations ever being considered credible. Lastly it's important for all those who care about priests who have been or may be unjustly accused.
The practical wisdom of the saints with regard to false accusations falls into two complementary camps. The first camp is illustrated by the example of St. Gerard Majella and St. Vincent de Paul.
In 1754, a young woman named Neria Caggiano accused St. Gerard, a 28 year-old Redemptorist brother, of lecherous conduct. She had been dismissed from a convent and was seeking revenge on the one who had recommended her there. St. Alphonsus Ligouri, the founder of the Redemptorists, called St. Gerard in to answer the accusation. Rather than defending himself, Br. Gerard remained silent, not seeking to do any damage to his accuser's reputation. The superior thought he had no choice but to discipline him severely: he forbade him from all contact not to mention pastoral work with outsiders and even denied him the privilege of receiving holy Communion. These were excruciating penalties for Br. Gerard, which he offered up for his accuser's conversion and salvation. He simply said, "There is a God in Heaven. He will provide." Several months later, Neria became dangerously ill, and thinking that she might die, realized she could not go to her particular judgment with such a calumny on her conscience. She wrote a letter to St. Alphonsus confessing that she invented the charges. The founder, overjoyed at the innocence of his spiritual son, fully restored him, but St. Gerard's example of trust in God even in the midst of terrible accusations and penances quickly became a model not only for his religious family but for the whole Church: he is now the patron saint of those falsely accused.
The story of St. Vincent de Paul is equally as powerful. As a young priest in Paris, the judge at whose home he was boarding found that a large sum of money was missing and accused Fr. Vincent of having stolen it. He calmly insisted that he hadn't taken the money, but he wasn't able to prove his innocence any more than prosecutors could prove his guilt. Nevertheless, most people — including those who had been his friends — thought that he had committed the crime. Fr. Vincent kept saying, "God knows the truth." Finally, six years later, the thief who had robbed the safe was arrested for another burglary and, wanting to clear his conscience, confessed to the crime of which Fr. Vincent had been unjustly accused. Fr. Vincent was exonerated, to the great edification of Paris society.
What unites them — and several other similar examples from hagiographical annals — is a deep trust in God in the midst of false accusations. St. Josemaria Escrivā once prayed aloud, in the midst of suffering calumny, "Lord, if you don't need my good name, what should I want it for?" Like Christ, they bore the unjust accusations with confidence that the truth would come out in this world or in the next and, until it did, they offered their sufferings for their accusers.
The second and complementary camp we see in the life of St. John Vianney. He was accused, among other types of debauchery, of impregnating a young woman who lived near the Church in Ars. His instinctive response was to forgive and pray for his accusers as well as for the young woman. But he also came to recognize that it was not merely his own reputation that was suffering because of the calumnies, but also the reputation of the priesthood. For that reason, he undertook a defense, lest by failing to do so, he would give any plausibility to the vile rumors. The truth eventually came out. His serenity in the midst of the false and confidence that the truth would emerge, however, were lessons his parishioners never forgot.
Saints are distinguished by their heroic virtue — and responding to false accusations as the saints above did is clearly heroic. It is totally understandable that those who have been falsely accused may undertake a vigorous defense of their reputation, as some like Cardinal Joseph Bernardin of Chicago or Cardinal George Pell of Sydney have, so as not only to clear their name and remove the stigma from the priesthood and their entire ministry, but also to dissuade others from making similar false accusations in the future. But whatever one's external strategy is, the interior strategy of total confidence in God in union with Christ in the midst of calumny is the type of heroism to which God calls all his priests.
Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, "Blessed are you when they revile you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven" (Mt 5:11-12). Among the greatest in heaven will be those who have suffered false accusations, in union with the Lord Jesus, who was — we should never forget — killed through false accusations, but rose triumphant on the third day.
Father Roger J. Landry is pastor of St. Anthony of Padua in New Bedford, MA and Executive Editor of The Anchor, the weekly newspaper of the Diocese of Fall River.
