NEW ORLEANS (LA)
Nola.com [New Orleans, LA]
September 29, 2023
By STEPHANIE RIEGEL
St. Rita’s parishioner Carling Dinkler grew up in a Catholic New Orleans family and regularly brings his daughter to the church’s standing-room-only, 5 p.m. Sunday Mass. He’s troubled by the recent request, from Archbishop Gregory Aymond, that parishes contribute to clergy abuse settlements. But he thinks individual Catholics have an obligation to help the local church put the scandal behind it.
For Jennifer Molina, it’s more complicated. She’s a lifelong Catholic who advocates for social justice causes, but has become frustrated in recent years with church teachings on women’s ordination and gay marriage. Her faith in God is steadfast, but the unfolding abuse crisis is pushing her faith in the church over the edge.
“There have been many things with the church that are painful,” she said. “This is different. I feel like it’s a tipping point.”
There are half a million Roman Catholics in the Archdiocese of New Orleans, and like Dinkler and Molina, many are grappling with the latest turn in the modern church’s greatest crisis.
More than 500 claims of sexual abuse, most dating back decades, have been lodged against New Orleans area clergy as part the archdiocese’s Chapter 11 bankruptcy process. The total bill could be $100 million or more, and the archbishop has informed the faithful that local parishes, schools and charitable organizations affiliated with the archdiocese will be asked to help pay for it.
For some, the request — and Aymond’s handling of the crisis — is the ultimate test of faith.
Interviews with more than two dozen Catholics in parishes across the New Orleans region suggest people are profoundly saddened by the crisis and its latest turn. Many are angry, some are furious. But its effect on their faith, and on their relationship with the church, is complicated, deeply personal and defies easy characterization.
“It’s extremely sad,” said Michelle Maberry, 72, a parishioner at St. Peter’s in Covington, who grew up in Gentilly and went to Holy Angels Academy in the mid-1960s. “But when you’re raised in it, you don’t leave.”
A question of justice
Dioceses across the U.S. are struggling with the fallout from the sexual abuse crisis, and local Catholics have been processing the abuse scandal for years. As the number of claims has grown, so has the sadness, disappointment and disgust. On Sept. 8, Aymond told New Orleans Catholics about the need for money from parishes in a letter published in The Clarion-Herald, the archdiocesan newspaper.
“We now know that there must be a contribution from the apostolates,” Aymond wrote, referring to organizations affiliated with the archdiocese. “I ask for your prayers for our clergy, religious, lay staff and those who are working to support us during this challenging time.”
Since then, the crisis has taken on a new meaning.
For some, it’s about doing what needs to be done so that victims and the church can heal. Reiss Eagan, 35, is a graduate of Jesuit High School and said he is also willing to help the archdiocese pay off its abuse claims. An investment advisor and father of four, he feels a sense of obligation to “give back to an institution that has given to me so much.”
Others, particularly those on a limited income or in parishes that also already struggling financially, see a more difficult choice ahead.
Cynthia Shelton, 70, is active at the combined St. Raymond and St. Leo the Great parish in Gentilly. Hers is one of more than a dozen parishes that closed or merged after Hurricane Katrina. Following 8:30 a.m. mass on a recent Tuesday, Shelton said she’s not sure if she and her fellow parishioners can dig much deeper.
“I’m already pushed to pay my Entergy, my house note, the insurance, and now they’re asking me to pay for something I had nothing to do with,” said Shelton, whose husband, Royal, is a deacon. “People are feeling like this is not fair and, even, unjust.”
Others are deeply troubled by the specific properties the archdiocese has chosen to sell in order to generate cash. Though the process has only recently begun, two of the properties recently listed for sale are home to small nonprofits, the Catholic Book Store and the St. Jude Community Center, the latter of which provides a variety of charitable services to needy populations.
“Why are they going after the properties that are on the cusps of poverty in this city?” said Sr. Bonnie Kearney, 80, a nun with the Society of the Sacred Heart, which is independent from the Archdiocese of New Orleans but has had a presence in the city for more than a century. “There is no attempt to tell us. It is all being decided behind closed doors.”
Dinkler, 44, said he and his friends are upset about the situation, but if selling off parish properties or making extra donations to the collection basket is the best way to settle the case, “I think that is absolutely reasonable.”
Molina, a Spanish teacher in Orleans Parish, struggles with what she sees as hypocrisy. Her mother taught in a Catholic school and was later a principal. She has worked in New Orleans’ underserved public school system her entire career.
To go after Catholic school resources, and potentially deprive funding from children when it was children who were victimized, is almost too much to bear.
“Children are being asked to sacrifice for the crimes that were perpetrated against them,” she said. “It’s like revictimizing the victim.”
The Archdiocese of New Orleans declined to comment.
Important distinction
For those who still practice their faith, the abuse crisis has highlighted the difference in how they feel about their local parish compared to the Catholic Church as a world-spanning institution. The parish is the place where they pray and mark milestones like baptisms, weddings and funerals. It’s where they find friends and community.
“I have trust in my parish,” said Pierre Champagne, a lifelong Catholic, who now belongs to St. Pius X in Lake Vista. “Not so much at the higher levels. I feel like there is a rift there.”
Many also make a distinction between the church as an institution and their larger faith in God. Some parishioners say they are angry at Aymond and at the attorneys that have advised him. But they believe the message of Jesus Christ is bigger than the sins of any individual diocese or bishop.
“We’re faithful people,” Shelton said. “God is going to help us get through this.”
It is not easy, though. Despite being a critic of the church, Molina still believes. Though she’s conflicted, she continues to give.
“Aymond said we’re going to come out of this stronger as a family,” she said. “It doesn’t feel like a family right now. It feels like a business. It was never supposed to be a business.”
Email Stephanie Riegel at stephanie.riegel@theadvocate.com.