VATICAN CITY (VATICAN CITY)
Zenit [Rome, Italy]
November 10, 2025
By Jorge Enrique Mújicapope
Some participants handed the Pope a letter calling for the resignation of Archbishop Luc Terlinden of Mechelen-Brussels, accusing him of indifference toward victims. For them, his leadership symbolizes an institutional culture more concerned with damage control than repentance.
Pope Leo XIV welcomed fifteen Belgian survivors of clerical sexual abuse on November 8, the meeting was intended to be one of healing. What unfolded over nearly three hours was a moment of painful honesty — an encounter that revealed not only wounds long left open, but also the hopes pinned on a new pontificate.
According to Vatican sources, the Pope prayed with the survivors and listened in what witnesses described as a profoundly human, at times agonizing, conversation.
“The emotion in the room was palpable,” said one participant. “We wondered if the new Pope would be as attentive as his predecessor — or if we would have to start from the beginning.”
The survivors, most of whom had met with Pope Francis in 2024 during his pastoral visit to Belgium, had waited over a year for this follow-up. What they wanted this time was not just empathy, but concrete accountability.
Their discussions centered on three urgent themes: the destruction of faith caused by abuse and the difficult path toward spiritual reconstruction; the economic hardship endured by many victims as a result of trauma; and the Church’s responsibility to ensure such crimes never happen again.
Lieve Brouwers, one of the attendees, said the group was accompanied by members of the Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors.
One survivor, seriously ill, received the anointing of the sick from the Pope himself — a gesture of deep pastoral tenderness.
Yet beyond the compassion lay tension. The issue of financial compensation, long a source of frustration among Belgian victims, resurfaced with force.
“It became clear that he doesn’t see money as the main concern,” said Jan Puype, a member of the group who later spoke to Belgian television. “But I told him, ‘You are the leader of the Catholic Church. Surely you can reason with the bishops of Belgium and ask them to revisit our financial aid.’ Once again, it felt like a game of ping-pong.”
Pope Leo reportedly promised to write to the Belgian bishops but admitted his influence was limited.
“He reminded us he’s only been in office six months,” said another participant, Jean Marc Turine, “and that he’s still learning the situation.”
The survivors left feeling heard, yet uncertain — suspended between the Pope’s sincerity and the inertia of church bureaucracy.
Behind the meeting looms a deeper crisis in Belgium’s Catholic hierarchy. Some participants handed the Pope a letter calling for the resignation of Archbishop Luc Terlinden of Mechelen-Brussels, accusing him of indifference toward victims. For them, his leadership symbolizes an institutional culture more concerned with damage control than repentance.
The Church in Belgium has taken steps in recent years — creating the Dignity Foundation in 2022 to fund psychotherapy for survivors, and maintaining settlement programs ranging from 2,500 to 25,000 euros.
But the victims say such figures are insulting compared to a lifetime of suffering.
“If you calculate the cost of trauma, of lost health and faith,” said one, “you reach at least a million euros per person. We’re not demanding that sum, but we want the Church to recognize the magnitude of what was taken from us.”
Pope Leo’s challenge is not new, yet it may be defining. His predecessor, Francis, made the fight against abuse one of the pillars of his pontificate, but critics say institutional inertia has prevailed over reform. Now, the young American-born pontiff faces a European Church where the wounds run deep and the trust deficit is immense.
The Belgian case also highlights contrasts between continents. In the United States, where dioceses have declared bankruptcy under the weight of lawsuits, justice has been driven by courts. In Europe, reparations often depend on internal Church mechanisms or state mediation — systems seen by many victims as self-protective rather than restorative.
Still, for all the pain, there were signs of grace. One survivor described how the Pope’s prayer at the end “was not a formula, but a moment of silence in which he carried our suffering before God.”
Another said simply, “He didn’t promise miracles. But he stayed. He listened.”
That may not satisfy those seeking justice, but in the long struggle between institutional denial and genuine repentance, it matters. For Pope Leo XIV, whose pontificate began amid expectations of renewal, this meeting marked not just another audience, but a test of credibility.