Feature Writer
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| JOHNATHAN HAYWARD FOR THE TORONTO STAR |
| DAVID GAGNON: Ottawa man, abused by a priest when he was a teenager in Maine, says when it comes to such revelations in Canada, we've only scratched the veneer. |
"Boycott the Archdiocese!" demands a disillusioned Catholic from a Boston television studio.
From his apartment in Ottawa, 37-year-old David Gagnon watches each new revelation, each new headline detailing charges of abuse against members of the Catholic clergy, with a growing sense of vindication.
As a teenager in Maine, Gagnon was abused by a priest. As an adult, he has come to know other people who say they too were abused by trusted church authorities.
Except these people are in Canada. And Gagnon predicts the current wave of allegations in the U.S. may trigger a cross-border catharsis.
"There are hundreds of survivors in Canada," he says. "And I think the floodgates are about to open here."
The Roman Catholic church in this country, no stranger to scandal, says its skeletons are already out of the closet. The shocking revelations now being seen in the U.S. and elsewhere, officials say, have already come and gone (with the possible exception of unresolved child abuse cases in Cornwall). The rest of the world, they say, is merely catching up.
And at Godspeed.
In Ireland, Catholic dioceses have agreed to pay $110 million (U.S.) to survivors who were abused by members of the clergy. In Massachusetts, nearly 90 people are suing the Archdiocese of Boston over sex abuse allegations involving priests. In Florida, a sexual misconduct scandal has led to the resignation of a bishop.
Even the Pope weighed in on the controversy last week, saying it was casting a "dark shadow of suspicion" over all priests.
It may do more than that. Observers say the financial impact in the United States could eventually top $1 billion. Some predict many U.S. dioceses will be forced into bankruptcy — that the very church itself will be put under an electron microscope.
Critics say it's about time.
"For far too many years the church has enjoyed an exalted, privileged position in our society, and has essentially been allowed to police itself," says David Clohessy, executive director of SNAP, the Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests.
The U.S.-based organization has roughly 3,500 members, including 150 from Canada. Gagnon, who has a master's degree in pastoral sciences, is one of them. He says when it comes to abuse in this country, we've only scratched the veneer.
"The church has been very skilful in covering this up in Canada. There are places where there's a systemic attempt to silence the victims," he says.
That's certainly been a key historic complaint — whether in this country or elsewhere. Those who've been abused say when they've sought solace or justice from the church, the local parish or diocese or bishop simply wants the matter swept under the rug.
"Everyone has had the same exact experience of being beaten to a pulp by the diocese," maintains Gagnon, who says he was belittled and intimidated when he initially raised his concerns in Maine.
You won't get any argument from 43-year-old John Swales, a survivor who was abused in Ontario.
As youngsters, Swales and two of his brothers were abused by Father Barry Glendinning (who pleaded guilty to gross indecency in 1974). They're involved in a lawsuit against, among others, the Roman Catholic Diocese of London.
"The way it is right now, when you come forward you're under siege: you become the problem," says Swales. "They've offered a token amount of money and it's like: `Now here, take this and get outta Dodge.' That seems to be the way we deal with it in Canada, get away with as little as you can."
Senior Roman Catholic officials say painful lessons have already been learned in this country. Scandals like the Mount Cashel orphanage, the residential school system and the Brothers of the Christian Schools in Alfred, Ont., have already left many dioceses mired in lawsuits. The wave of cases now hitting U.S. courts, they say, has already crested here.
"What the church in the U.S. is now going through, we faced about 10 years ago," says Reverend William Kokesch, director of communications services for the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops (http://www.cccb.ca/).
The church points to the document: `From Pain to Hope,' issued by the CCCB in 1992. Two years in the making, the report stated in no uncertain terms that the sexual abuse of children by priests or other religious leaders would not be tolerated. Many dioceses responded by developing their own strict protocols for dealing with allegations of abuse.
"If there is an allegation that is made with respect to contact with someone who is a minor, the authorities are notified immediately, which is defined as being within one hour," explains Suzanne Scorsone, spokesperson for the archdiocese of Toronto.
The church also says it is no longer considered acceptable to quietly shuffle an abuser off to treatment, then attempt to re-integrate them in a different location. That practice, known as "reinsertion," was based on the notion that someone who abused children could easily be cured of pedophilia. It was also entrenched in Roman Catholic tenets of forgiveness and redemption.
The church has since learned, very publicly, that reinsertion rarely works. In several cases, priests have reoffended. In Maine, where one priest was rotated through several locales, 130 people have now come forward to accuse him of abuse.
"There was a time when, based on completely different scientific studies, people could be considered cured and that would enable a possible reinsertion," says Monsignor Peter Schonenbach, general secretary to the CCCB. "Unfortunately, it's quite evident that public tolerance for such a thing is simply not there."
The buzzword these days in many of the 74 dioceses in Canada is "zero tolerance," meaning that nothing is supposed to be hushed up, nor any suspected offender shielded from the criminal justice system in cases where the abuse of minors is involved.
"Zero tolerance means that when the bishop is convinced that ... criminal abuse has taken place, that he immediately remove the priest from active service. I think we now understand that reinsertion is not possible," says Monsignor Schonenbach.
But zero tolerance is not necessarily practised at every diocese in Canada. The CCCB says it certainly hopes the policy is being universally applied, but there's no guarantee. Each bishop reports directly to the Vatican — not to any central authority here. They can, in effect, set their own rules.
"I think the policy in Canada is about as cohesive as we would hope to get it, bearing in mind that, the way the church is structured, each bishop is pretty well the authority in his diocese," clarifies Schonenbach.
Survivors like Gagnon say that's precisely the problem. As a result, they say, there's nothing to prevent a bishop from allowing an abusive priest to minister elsewhere. Gagnon alleges he knows of more than one instance where a cleric against whom allegations have been made has been reinserted to a new parish or diocese.
"I know victims of priests and these priests are still active in the ministry," he says.
For Gagnon, such stories strike home. When he first complained to church authorities back in 1991, he asked for a cash settlement to pay for therapy, and the removal of his abuser. Although Gagnon eventually received a settlement, Father Michael Doucette continued to minister following brief treatment.
Late last month, however, a second accuser came forward. Father Doucette confessed to his parishioners and asked forgiveness. On March 9, more than a decade after Gagnon complained, Doucette was placed on administrative leave.
"Given our experience over the last month, I have now decided that there will be no public ministry in the future for any priest with a credible allegation of sexual abuse of a minor or who has acknowledged sexual contact with a minor," reads a statement from Joseph Gerry, the Bishop of Portland.
Although the bishop explained, in detail, that Doucette had received treatment and there was no evidence he had since reoffended, it rings hollow with Gagnon.
"So had this other person not come forward, I would have been the expendable victim and that would have been the end of it," says Gagnon bitterly. "Imagine, a policy of one rape victim per priest. That's just astounding."
Church officials in this country urge that people keep the U.S. scandals in perspective. They reiterate that Canada has taken a lead with the problem, and point to more thorough screening of new candidates for the seminary.
They also maintain that the core of the problem does not lie with celibacy. The vast majority of priests — there are now 9,000 in Canada compared with 14,952 in 1970 — lead celibate lives in the service of God. Celibacy, says the church, is an altogether different issue from abuse.
"There's been a great tendency to relate celibacy and sexual abuse together," says Reverend Kokesch. "To say that celibacy is the root cause, there's a mistake somewhere in the thinking. It's two different discussions."Where the church may ultimately find salvation is the fact that, at least in Canada, there have been no fresh scandals on any large scale. The vast majority of allegations stretch back decades.
"There haven't been any real new cases that have been occurring that I'm aware of. That's one thing we have to keep in mind," says Kokesch.
That may be cold comfort for survivors of past abuse who say they have yet to see true justice. Nonetheless, with every conviction and charge currently in the U.S. press, survivors say they become stronger, that they gain a little faith.
"There's a burden that so many survivors carry," says SNAP's Clohessy. "So when someone in authority — an impartial judge or jury — says `Yes, what happened to this child is dreadfully wrong,' it's incredibly healing and it's incredibly validating."
Gagnon, meanwhile, hopes his story will encourage other survivors to come forward.
But he suggests, based on his own experience, that they take their concerns to the police, rather than the pulpit.
