Remembering the wolves

Thomas Adamson is dead.

February 25, that was his last day on earth. Just the day before, Pope Francis told an assembly of the world’s bishops that it was their duty and the duty of the Church to  protect all children, all vulnerable people “from ravenous wolves” that prey upon them.

Among those wolves, Adamson was one of the most ravenous.

My mother warned not to speak ill of the dead, but also taught me to speak the truth. And the truth, as recorded in church documents and his own depositions,  is that Father Thomas Adamson, a priest of  the Winona Diocese of the Roman Catholic Church, sexually molested at least 10 and possibly as many as 37 boys  during the 20 years he was moved from parish to parish by bishops, archbishops and vicars general who were aware of what he had done. No bishop, archbishop, or church official reported Adamson’s crimes to police or prosecutors, but kept their knowledge locked away in file cabinets in the diocesan chancellery until one of those boys, by then a man, brought suit in civil court for damages suffered at the hands of a priest.

Had Greg Reidle accepted the Church’s offer of $1 million contingent on "the usual confidentiality agreement” that knowledge might still be locked away. Instead he opted to make the truth public knowledge.

In 1983, he was the first to come forward. There would be many, many more.

But you say Thomas Adamson is dead. The pope’s summit is over. The Church is on a new path. Why bring this whole ugly thing up again?

Well, it’s Lent, the Church’s season to remember, reflect, and repent.

I was 12 when Father Adamson was at St. John’s in Caledonia. Almost every day I’d walk past his rectory. I had no idea of what was happening inside.

But my friend knew. He knew because it was happening to him.

So did the bishop.

The county jail was no more than a block or two from that rectory. It would have been a short walk had Bishop Edward Fitzgerald picked up the phone.

We need to remember that.

And we need to recognize that it has taken nearly 60 years since Bishop Edward Fitzgerald was told that Father Adamson was having sex with young boys for the Pope to call for an “unprecedented summit” of the world’s bishops to talk about the crimes committed by persons holding positions of power in Christ’s church.

“Unprecedented.” What a strange word to use. Yet, in a way, absolutely appropriate. For isn’t it unprecedented, something never before seen that beggars the imagination, to think that there would ever be any question, ever any need for discussion, as to what the Vicar of Christ and shepherds of His flock would do when confronted with evidence of felonious sexual assault; yet for centuries the Church’s near universal stance has been to conceal, deny, and condemn – condemn not the perpetrators, but the victims for causing “scandal” in the Church.

And let’s not forget that although the Church holds confession and contrition to be sacramental, it has taken the tireless, unceasing efforts of lawyers, judges and journalists to force the Church to reluctantly reveal the evidence of its crimes; acknowledge its sins;  provide a measure of justice to its victims,

It is Lent and we need to remember. To get rid of evil, first we have to look at it, see it, point it out, call it by its right name and call to account whoever hides it and by hiding it allows it to continue.

We need to be reminded of that. Reminded of how unchecked  power and prerogative offer temptation that few can truly resist. Of how some things are just plain wrong and it is ugly and painful to set them aright.

But that’s what Lent is for.