Deliver Us from Evil

“It is an utter disgrace,” says the pastor to the TV reporter. Who could blame him? He has just heard the latest news. After nearly three years of crisis and scandal, the archdiocese of Boston announces the closing of 65 parishes—and then, less than 48 hours after this pastor learns that his parish will close, the news breaks that Bernard Law has been given a new position as “arch-priest” of a Roman basilica.

Who is writing this script, anyway? Surely the author has decided to put the cast of characters through as much pain as melodrama can manage. I cannot help wondering where the powers that be were on the day their seminary held the class on prudence.

In Catholic tradition, prudence is one of the cardinal virtues. Moreover prudence has a kind of “empire” over the other virtues, since prudence enables people to judge how to apply the other virtues in any concrete situation. This means that “being right” on an issue is not always enough. Sometimes, even when you're right, prudence dictates that insisting on your position will do more harm than good.

Bernard Law was never famous for his prudence. He almost always thought he was right, and he almost always insisted on it.

Shortly after arriving in Boston in 1984, he delivered the commencement convocation at Boston College—and then proceeded to berate the school, the graduates, and the celebrating parents and families for abandoning their Catholic identity. Arriving at an annual Knights of Columbus fundraiser, he summarily ordered the bar closed to the sponsor’s great embarrassment. He ordered the annual gathering of the Charismatic Renewal to shift from a large arena to the smaller Holy Cross cathedral, then imposed his own program. He literally pulled a communion cup from a woman’s hands to insist a priest take it. Speaking to the diocesan assembly of religious educators for the first time, he told them they should either obey his policy directives or find work in another field.

Law did mellow some by the late 1980s, but by then the damage was done: he had embarrassed, alienated, excluded and discouraged too many people. He never enjoyed the whole-hearted support of his clergy or of the lay people staffing the dioceses’ 400 parishes. Even when he was right, his ability to lead was hampered by others’ unwillingness to follow. By the early 1990s, when he ordered that parish clusters be formed to discuss possible mergers, he was loath to take the rap for parish closings, but few pastors were willing to share that responsibility, and the process languished for lack of direction.

When the clergy sex scandal broke in 2001, Law became the chief target of public furor. He offered the lame defense that he was merely following medical advice from professionals who pronounced he could safely recycle “rehabilitated” abusers back into ministry. Prudence, of course, would have dictated that common sense prevail over such bad advice after those abusers repeated their crimes—in John Geoghan’s case, in FIVE more parishes! Law’s resignation eventually became necessary because his lack of prudence undermined his own authority and credibility.

Now, two years later, come the parish closings. The diocese has named the problems that make the closings necessary—desperate diocesan and parish finances, shifts in populations and attendance, deteriorating buildings, growing priest shortage—but has never explained why the process had to be this rushed, this brutal, this painful. None of these problems has arrived suddenly; none arrived without lots of warning; none were inevitable. So why was it necessary to address them so suddenly, with so little warning?

The answer is: because of imprudent leadership. Bernard Law’s style was micro-management; he liked to control everything. Yet in the major areas of diocesan operations—personnel, finances, planning, and physical plant maintenance—he was asleep at the wheel for nearly 20 years. And so his successor inherits the mess that the Archdiocese of Boston had become under Law.

Thus the “reconfiguration” of Boston into 65 fewer parishes offers a new lesson: as notorious as the clergy sex scandal has been, the reconfiguration reveals that Bernard Law’s failure was not limited to his handling of abusive clergy—it was a general failure to lead the diocese effectively. His tenure damaged the diocese more than any other single factor since Vatican II.

The moral of the story: prudence is the key to effective pastoral leadership. Without it, being right becomes being self-righteous, and conviction becomes arrogance.

Unfortunately, imprudence may be contagious. The reconfiguration of Boston has been “nasty, brutish, and short.” The task was unavoidable, but much of the pain was not. The process happened so fast, there was no time to prepare detailed parish profiles or train facilitators or target a reasonable number of closings. Participants received scant preparation and direction, and too many “dialogs” deteriorated into mean-spirited bickering and manipulation—an ecclesiastical version of “Survivor.” The official recommendations from local clusters were undermined by back-channel lobbying that encouraged all parties to compete to become the squeakiest wheel. The process posed vague, hypothetical questions that led to more than 140 recommended closings, so thousands of parishioners were subjected to the “needless anxiety” of believing their parish would close—more than half the recommended closings turned out to be false alarms! Even the parishes spared felt insulted. One pastor from a parish staying open told me, “The letter I got [from the diocese] sounded like a teacher instructing third graders.”

Bernard Law’s untimely appointment to Rome merely added insult to all this unnecessary injury.

Small wonder many Catholics want to invoke congregationalism and take control of their own parishes—not because they believe they could do better than their bishops, but because they are convinced no one could do worse. As one pastor said, “The whole process just widens the gap between the hierarchy and the rest of us.”

Of course, as long as the Church retains it hierarchical structure, running it will not be the laity’s job. But the truth is, most Catholics are not demanding to do the hierarchy’s job, they are demanding that the hierarchy do the hierarchy's job, and do it well. They expect better leadership than the denial, institutional neglect, emergency solutions to long-standing problems, bad timing, and massive insensitivity to people’s feelings and needs that they have been getting. They expect eldership that knows prudence is a virtue, and is willing to practice it once in a while.

This is not only something Catholics expect. It is also something they deserve.

Send Your Comments and Questions to bfswain@juno.com