Pope Benedict XVI in 2007
Pope Benedict XVI came out of hiding last week. No, it wasn’t the Milwaukee Art Museum’s pontifical Eggs Benedict portrait rendered in condoms, it was the 91-year-old pope emeritus himself, who issued an essay blaming the Roman Catholic Church’s sex abuse scandal on the 1960s sexual revolution with its loose morals, tight clothing and, of course, embrace of homosexuals. In other words, don’t blame us guys in brocade.
Never mind the scandal was well underway long before the Age of Aquarius; Benedict’s regurgitation of “homosexual” scapegoating conveniently disregards the large percentage of little girls abused by priests that included pregnancies and, yes, abortions. But casting the abusers as solely homosexual allows the (presumably) heterosexual accuser to avoid association.
Besides, that focus distracts from other culprits like the church hierarchy that hid the crimes, the police who failed to enforce the law and last, but certainly not least, the lawyers who, at astounding cost, defended church leaders and helped their efforts to avoid compensation for the victims. Then, there are the parishioners along the way who just couldn’t believe their dear priests were capable of such crimes. There are also the victims’ own parents, who, intimidated into silence, wanted to avoid scandal or simply wouldn’t believe the obvious.
Benedict’s diatribe resurrects the blame game at a time when the Milwaukee Archdiocese is trying to forget its chapter in the Catholic Church’s sordid past. If you’ve driven up Van Buren Avenue these days, you’ll have noticed the absence of the “Archbishop Weakland Center” plaque that once adorned St. John Cathedral’s backside. (I gave it an ironic tribute in this column back in 2015.) A year later, a Catholic newspaper published a vitriolic editorial calling for the plaque’s removal and, in fact, a complete erasure of Rembert Weakland’s legacy, including a total re-renovation of the Cathedral Weakland had modernized to the tune of millions of dollars. It sounded like they were more upset about that (and, of course, his hush money payment to a former male lover) than of his role in the sex abuse scandal.
Well, the sign just came down a month ago. One wonders why it took so long. But apparently, it finally dawned on the Archdiocese that the sign’s presence (as well as the Cousins Catholic Center’s in St. Francis) might rub people the wrong way. Deweaklandization should provide some emotional relief for the victims. However, another victim’s demand—the release of the names of perpetrator priests—remains unfulfilled.
Perhaps the thought is that by erasing an infamous name, the rest of the guilty are absolved. If there is no perpetrator, there are no victims. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose. The brand is rehabilitated, and we can all go back to business as usual. It’s sort of that “we didn’t know” excuse of the Holocaust. But at least the Germans have memorialized their collective guilt and built monuments to the victims.
Perhaps the Milwaukee Archdiocese should as well. Perhaps it can melt down all the bronze Weakland scraps and recast them as a Mea Culpa sculpture and place it prominently in the cathedral nave. His life-sized bronze bust (if it still exists) should be placed there as well, facing a wall in perpetual shame.
