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  Church Plays Legal Hardball

By Daniel J. Lehmann
Chicago Sun-Times
January 23, 1994

When the parents of "Richard Doe" sued a Northwest suburban Roman Catholic priest and parish school principal in 1989 over alleged child abuse, the accused didn't turn the other cheek.

In a move more typical of a bruising corporate legal battle than a case involving the church, the priest and principal countersued the Does -- injecting for the first time hardball legal tactics that now are being used nationwide.

After years of amended complaints, sealed court records, a gag order and changing court dates, the case is now set for trial May 2 -- a week before Joseph Cardinal Bernardin is scheduled to face sex abuse allegations himself in a Cincinnati courtroom.

"It started defense by scorchery," said Jeffery R. Anderson, a Minnesota attorney who represents another couple who sued the same Northbrook priest, the Rev. Robert J. Lutz of St. Norbert parish, in 1992 for allegedly abusing their son. With the archdiocese footing the legal bill, they were countersued as well, accused of defamation and invasion of privacy.

"The church doesn't have to be pastoral" to those who sue it, said Anderson, who has more than 250 clients claiming sex abuse by priests.

"Yet it doesn't have to be terroristic, either," he said.

Even the harshest critics acknowledge the church and priests are within their rights to expect and utilize the most vigorous defense strategies available to anyone else. Still, some tactics allegedly "stretch the limits," according to one attorney, such as: taking statements from witnesses for nearly 100 hours, fighting attempts of victims to remain anonymous, demanding mountains of background information and running up huge legal bills through delays.

Church lawyers have used such tactics in civil cases even when priests have already pleaded guilty to sex abuse charges in criminal proceedings.

Not all have adopted this stance. With 188 dioceses in the United States, "you get every possible response," said Anderson. Some are "gentle" and some are "terroristic," employing every legal avenue, he said.

Bernardin, aware of the intense scrutiny of his case and the criticism of the church for its legal maneuvers in other cases, said two weeks ago he hopes his defense is presented in such a way as not to "scare off people who have truly been victimized." And, thus far, there is no evidence of aggressive tactics being used by the cardinal's defense lawyers.

For the church, the stakes are incredibly high.

Clergy sex abuse charges have mushroomed in the 1990s, unleashing a backlog of once-taboo allegations and posing a mounting financial drain for the archdiocese and the church nationally.

Earlier this month, the archdiocese reported that allegations of sexual misconduct by clergy cost it $ 2.8 million last year, up from $ 1.1 million the year before. The costs also accounted for more than half the church's $ 4.5 million deficit for 1993.

Jason Berry, a Louisiana author who has built a career out of documenting clergy sex abuse, concurred with a recent U.S. News & World Report estimate that the bill for attorney costs, damage awards, settlement fees and medical bills for the Roman Catholic Church nationwide exceeds $ 500 million.

One of the best examples of the get-tough approach by church lawyers, according to Berry, took place in Poughkeepsie, N.Y.

A family sued the Rev. Daniel A. Calabrese for sexually abusing their teenage son in 1992. While Calabrese pleaded guilty to criminal charges of sodomy in state court, the Archdiocese of New York has countered the family's suit by contending the boy was a willing participant.

"These are gladiatorial tactics and legal brinkmanship that by their very nature up the ante," said Berry, whose book Lead Us Not Into Temptation highlights the Lutz case.

There are words of grudging sympathy for the church in the tactics debate, however. Tim Unsworth, a national, liberal church observer in Chicago, said when the "interests of the church as an institution are threatened, it will revert to the laws of man and play hardball.

"But when I put myself in the same position, of being backed into an alley, I'd exhaust all remedies to maintain my innocence," he said.

Church lawyers have an obligation in civil litigation to act in a manner consistent with the role of the church, said John O'Malley, director of legal services for the Archdiocese of Chicago.

O'Malley would not discuss cases and tactics being used by church lawyers in other dioceses. And he said he couldn't discuss the Lutz case because it is pending.

But he said the case has become a lightning rod for media attention because the issue is timely, involves serious allegations and places the church in a public, on-the-record setting -- a secular court.

Previously, the archdiocese has said the incidents were investigated by local and state authorities "and were found to be unsubstantiated." The archdiocese believes Lutz is innocent and has continued to pay his defense bills.

"There are relatively few matters (like it) that result in litigation," said O'Malley, former chief of attorney registration and discipline for the Illinois Supreme Court.

The archdiocese's responsibility is to remove errant priests "and correct the damage that was done," he said. But if the cleric did not act wrongly, the church is "just as responsible that it defend the individual," he said.

The church doesn't seek "popular justice, but true justice, and that is the most difficult part of these problems," said O'Malley.

O'Malley's arrival at the archdiocese two years ago was widely perceived as an effort by Bernardin to reshape the church's legal posture.

Unlike the Lutz countersuits, in a recent sexual abuse case the archdiocese didn't join in a legal motion seeking to force an accuser to use her real name in court.

Some suggest the church has no choice but to hang tough, as evidenced by the Archdiocese of Santa Fe (N.M.). It asked other dioceses to help it meet 40 lawsuits seeking more than $ 50 million. For years, abusive priests from throughout the United States were sent to a treatment clinic there and some repeated sexual offenses in Santa Fe.

Without assistance, Santa Fe church officials say the archdiocese faces bankruptcy.

That could be avoided if bishops used more compassion with victims, said Barbara Blaine of Chicago, president of Survivors' Network of Those Abused by Priests.

"I don't understand why church officials take the most significant crisis to face the church and turn it over to lawyers," she said.

"Bishops meet with us and they are nice and sweet, and then we get lambasted by their lawyers later. Who hires these attorneys?" Blaine said.

SNAP's national director, David Clohessy of suburban St. Louis, said the Lutz case "is an anomaly because it has been taken in such a public and legal sort of way."

Most challenges come privately when a person approaches the church with allegations, he said. Church attorneys warn of countersuits, forcing the court to reveal the accusers' real names or "just burying you in (legal) paper," said Clohessy.

"The sad reality is we'll never know how effective these threats are," he said.

O'Malley would not comment on how many reports of abuse the archdiocese receives or the number of suits it faces. Officials have previously stated that 20 priests in the last two years have been removed from ministries for sexual misconduct allegations.

O'Malley said the church, like the rest of society, is still learning how to deal with sexual abuse.

"I think five years ago was ancient history on this issue and 10 years ago was prehistory," said O'Malley.

 
 

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