Civil law trumps Bernard Law

Catholic New Times, Feb 9, 2003 by Desmond Rainey

The stranglehold grip of papal conservatism on the Catholic Church in the United States weakened somewhat with the resignation (Dec. 13, 2002) of Boston's embattled Bernard Cardinal Law. His powerful hold on the ecclesiastical structure was such that, for the last 12 years, no one became a bishop without his approval. His appointees to the episcopacy, men who will govern the church for decades to come, have been carefully selected to mirror his own hard-edged doctrinal conservatism.

Mississippi dreamin'

Law was the master architect and skilled craftsman of his own career. His relentless ambition and calculated cultivation of powerful mentors brought him to the pinnacle of institutional success with its trappings of power, pomp and prestige. But, in the end, like a figure in a Greek tragedy, he became the blunt instrument of his own demise.

"Courteous, handsome and ambitious" is how Eugene Kennedy described Law, whom he has known for 30 years. The formula for a successful "career in the church," explains Kennedy, is for the man to "devote himself to good works and self promotion in about the same ratio of vermouth to gin in a James Bond martini." Such a man was Bernard Law.

Reminiscing about his years in Mississippi--with less than two years in actual parish experience--Law openly admitted that his ambition in those days was to become the first American pope. Until the sex scandals, his name was mentioned as a possible successor of Pope John Paul II.

Law's Mississippi work against segregation earned him a place on the hit list of the Ku Klux Klan. Charles Evers, the brother of a slain civil-rights activist, Medgar Evers, in an interview with the National Catholic Reporter in February 1966, made a disquieting comment in praising Law's efforts. Law had acted, Evers said, "not for the Negro, but for justice and for what is right."

Since then, Law's reputation as a civil-rights advocate has plummeted. Barbara Arnwine, a civil-rights lawyer in Boston commented: "For many of us, based on (Law's) record coming out of the south, we were quite disappointed. We expected much more. His viewpoint on this issue was very limited and narrow.... He was not willing to take risks."

Eugene Kennedy relates a chilling anecdote of a Bernard Law power play: "I learned that as soon as Law heard of Bernadin's (Chicago's Joseph Cardinal Bernadin) diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, he nominated Francis George, the bishop of Yakima, Washington, to become the archbishop of Portland. Making George an archbishop also made him eligible to be moved to Chicago after Bernadin's death." George is the present archbishop of Chicago.

The 'Catholic Watergate'

Commentators have characterized the sex scandals--in which Law failed to remove priestly pedophiles from parish ministry--as nothing short of a "Catholic Watergate." This refers to the political scandal of crimes and coverups that ended the presidency of Richard Nixon in 1972. Only a presidential pardon saved Nixon from a prison term. The legacy of Watergate was cynicism, alienation and distrust of politics and the government that persists to the present time.

Law, along with diocesan officials and, no doubt, a coterie of lawyers and insurers, tried unsuccessfully to contain the crisis through legal settlements with a strong emphasis on secrecy. Their priorities were clear: protect the church and the priesthood from the stench of scandal. Law's influence was so pervasive that he was able to place several of his close aides from the Boston chancery in dioceses as far away as New Orleans, Green Bay, Brooklyn, Long Island and Manchester, N.H. Law's clones, in their blind allegiance, all face lawsuits for ignoring charges of abuse against priests in their dioceses. Lost in the panic of crisis, forgotten in the effort to stem the hemorrhage, over: looked in the rush to save the shepherds was Law's primary responsibility to protect the smallest and the most vulnerable members of the flock. A battery Of publicly announced civil lawsuits against the archdiocese made "scandal management" impossible.

While Boston is the epicentre, the sex scandal reaches into dioceses large and small around the world. Some, like Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger and conservative commentator Philip Jenkins, see the resultant coverage as "anti-Catholic." Most Catholics find the charge laughable, pointing out that in the largely Catholic city of Boston, the charge has never been heard. Many believe that the charge comes from within an institution that has largely been given a ride free of critical scrutiny in the past.

The Boston Globe probably will win a Pulitzer Prize for its investigation on what church historians are calling the biggest scandal in American ecclesial history.

Not so strange bedfellows

Law's heavy fist of doctrinal conservatism is twinned, apparently, with a vigorous embrace of right-wing, Republican Party ideology.

Law's arrival in Boston as archbishop in 1984 coincided with the American presidential elections. Flexing his muscle in a mixing of church and state, Law urged Catholics away from the democratic ticket, while he castigated Geraldine Ferraro, the vice-presidential candidate for her pro-choice stand on abortion. A year later, Law received his cardinal's hat from Pope John Paul.