After the Dublin Report: What is to be done?

The Irish Government’s inquiry into child sexual abuse by clergy in the archdiocese of Dublin is harrowing reading. Following other similar scandals it evokes a disturbing sense of déjà vu. The question is: Will we learn from it?

The religious right and left will no doubt trot out the familiar rhetoric of blame: the wickedness of celibacy (or, from conservative Catholics, the need to enforce it more rigorously), the ‘threat’ of homosexual priests.

Secularists will also see the complicity of Irish police and government in covering up the scandal as a sign of the need for greater church-state separation and the evil of religion in general. In one way they are right. The Church has sinned gravely: Cardinal Sean Brady has openly admitted it. So too has the Irish government, confirming that the all too cosy relationship between the Church and the Irish State has been bad for both institutions. (Ray McCauley and Jacob Zuma, please take note!)

But they miss the deeper problem.

Within the Church we must also look more critically at the root causes of child abuse and avoid easy scapegoats. Whatever its problems, mandatory celibacy is not the root problem. Child abuse is as prevalent (if not more so) in Protestant churches, education, health care, law, government, and particularly within families.

There is also no convincing evidence to show that homosexual priests are ‘inherently’ prone to child abuse. The fact that more boys have been abused than girls in Ireland and elsewhere is a matter of opportunity on the part of sexual predators. Priests and male religious have traditionally run schools and institutions for boys. Until recently altar servers were exclusively male. Predators’ opportunities for abuse are conditioned primarily by environment.

Abuse is fundamentally the illegitimate exercise of power over those weaker than oneself. In organisations of greater power – whether structural, intellectual or hierarchical – the opportunity for abuse is greater. Many abusers are themselves victims of abuse. Just as where someone experiences abuse at work and then takes it out on spouse or children at home, victims become victimizers of those further down the pecking order.

The Church’s hierarchical clerical structure is particularly vulnerable to this. The important principle of spiritual authority is vulnerable to misuse and can degenerate into abusive exercises of power. Some clergy see themselves having extraordinary power by right.

Although the Second Vatican Council emphasised the collegiality of the church – of bishops with each other and the pope, of priest and people in the parish – the last 44 years has seen renewed centralisation of decision-making and the stifling of critical voices. To be critical is to be disloyal, even not really Christian. Many priests and bishops feel consciously or unconsciously abused, harassed and manipulated by those above them. Unable to freely express their anger, some sublimate it into self-destructive practices (substance abuse, overwork, idleness, lack of zeal for souls) or – in a few cases – in directly abusing those beneath them.
Until we address this problem we may see many more Dublin reports, many more scandals of sex, financial irregularities, clergy breakdowns and general spiritual malaise.

A crisis is also an opportunity. Let us hope that the Church as a whole looks openly and critically at itself to see how we may address unhealthy clericalism, the real cause of our problem.