The Roman Catholic Church began to be a factor in
Massachusetts politics in the 1640s when the colonial government adopted
anti-priest laws. There were maybe a few
hundred Catholics, French and Irish mainly, in Massachusetts at that time. They were scattered across the colony, lying
low, in fear of the Puritans.
That the church continues to matter in Massachusetts politics
-- only nowhere near the way it did in the heyday of Cardinal Richard Cushing,
50-some years ago -- was apparent on the State House News Service website
today, where an obituary appeared under the headline, “Cardinal Law, 86, Leaves
Behind Dark Legacy in Boston.” A photo
of a younger, smiling Law accompanied the unflattering write-up in an editorially
taunting way.
Law’s successor, Cardinal Sean O’Malley, was quoted by the
State House News Service as follows: “…Cardinal Law served at a time when the
Church failed seriously in its responsibilities to provide pastoral care for
her people, and with tragic outcomes failed to care for the children of our
parish communities.”
Amen.
The SHNS obit featured a vivid quote by a victim of clergy
sexual abuse, Alexa MacPherson, who had spoken at a press conference this morning. MacPherson said she hopes “the gates of
hell open wide” for Law. “With his
passing,” she said, “I feel no remorse in saying that I hope he gets what he
deserves in hell. There is nothing
positive about him.”
That got me thinking about Law’s journey in the afterlife,
which caused me to look up online the funeral arrangements. The requiem Mass for him will be held
tomorrow at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and and Law will be buried in Rome,
where he has been on the lam, in splendor, since resigning as head of the Boston
archdiocese in late-2002.
I believe that Law will get what he deserves on the other
side of this life. We all do. But I would not bet he’ll spend eternity in
hell. I had twelve years of Catholic
parochial school education in Revere, MA, and I remain a believing, practicing
Catholic.
One thing we Catholics learned at a young age is that God
will always forgive a sinner who confesses his sins to a priest, asks for
forgiveness with a good and contrite heart, receives absolution from the priest,
and performs the penance ordered by the priest.
It doesn’t matter how large and terrible and damaging were the
penitent’s sins. Even Hitler could, in
theory, have been forgiven if he had made a good confession, forgone suicide,
and accepted his earthly punishment at the conclusion of World War II, the
Sisters of St. Joseph taught us.
Here’s another thing we learned: the church will say that
someone is in heaven but will never say that someone, anyone, has gone to hell,
so great and unfathomable are the ways of God.
Based on what was inculcated in me as a boy, I would surmise
that Law had enough faith and self-awareness to have confessed his sins in
covering up for the many priest-criminal-deviates who ruined the lives of
hundreds of innocent children and, in return, to have received absolution.
I believe that Law squirms now in Purgatory, suffering from
an unimaginably intense and burning supernatural awareness of the harm wrought
in Boston by his nonfeasance and malfeasance, and that he will undergo such
suffering for a humanly inconceivable period before receiving the grace of
approaching God in all of his unapproachable goodness and light.
Faith along these lines must be guiding the Vatican big
shots planning Law’s funeral and burial in the very heart of Roman Catholicism
tomorrow. They’re saying the dean of the
College of Cardinals, Angelo Sodano, will preside at that Mass. They’re also saying – I can’t believe it! --
that Pope Francis himself will offer some sort of final blessing.
The top men in Rome must have realized how offensive this
grand send-off at St. Peter’s will be to the victims of clergy sex abuse and
the ones who love them. They had to know what a public relations
disaster it would be. Yet they went with
it.
Why?
My guess is they’re willing to risk the world’s scorn,
contempt and hatred on this matter in an attempt to make a point about God’s
inscrutable capacity for forgiveness and mercy.
Call them crazy. Or call them
brave. Just don’t call them for marketing
advice.
I read today that, in 2010, the Religion Census found that
45 percent of Massachusetts residents considered themselves Catholics, making
Massachusetts one of the most Catholic places, at least nominally, in America. This
was eight years after Law had been driven from the ecclesial heights in
disgrace. My initial reaction was: maybe
Law didn’t do as much damage as one would have expected.
A picture then came to mind of the many empty pews I see on
any given Sunday and of the occupied pews predominantly filled with older
Catholics. By the 2020 Religion Census,
Massachusetts will be a lot less Catholic.