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__LAST WORD________________________ So What Should I Do? Some months ago I wrote in this space about the persistent problem of clerical pedophilia. Several readers were shocked by the sentiments that I expressed, and their letters to the editor in turn shocked me. They were shocked to learn that I harbored temptations toward violence against priests who molest children. I was shocked to learn that they thought such an expression of anger was excessive. (Now I wonder: What is the appropriate level of outrage against a man who perverts his priestly office, destroys the innocence of children, and causes scandal among the faithful? It’s pretty high, don’t you think?) The readers who were horrified by my previous column on this topic will probably not be fond of this effort, either. But I propose to look at the problem from another angle. Rather than focus on the priests who prey on children, I want to ask a few tough questions about the parents who leave their children unprotected. Drawing inferences Last year I spent several weeks in a town where two young priests were assigned to the local parish church. Each of these young priests displayed, to a greater or lesser extent, mannerisms that I ordinarily associate with homosexuality: a tendency to prance and preen; an interest in theater and a penchant for theatricality; a fastidious concern about personal appearance. Please understand that I did not have the time or the occasion to get to know these men. I only made a few superficial observations. I am not saying that these young priests have homosexual tendencies; still less am I prepared to charge that they are active homosexuals. But I am saying that their public behavior raised the question in my mind. To put the matter in concrete terms: based on what I know, I would not want my son to spend much time with those young priests. As a father, I have a solemn obligation to protect my children from both physical and moral danger. I know that I cannot keep them safe from all harm. But whenever I see danger looming, I will steer them away from it. A father’s protective instincts become engaged long before he can prove that his child will be harmed. Maybe a toddler could walk along the edge of a cliff without falling, but a responsible father will not let the matter come to a test. Good fathers don’t wait for apodictic proof that danger is at hand; they trust their best instincts, and—this is the measure of a man—they act. Again, I am not acting as a prosecuting attorney here. I realize that I have nothing but the flimsiest of circumstantial evidence that these priests might have an unhealthy interest in young boys. But I am not bringing the case before a court of law; I am only trying to exercise my common sense, to reach a purely private judgment. Yes, that judgment would be based on appearances. I would be drawing an inference based on the behavior that I had observed. Isn’t that the duty of a father: to make his best judgments, based on the available evidence, about how he can protect his children? Is there anything inherently wrong with drawing inferences? I am reminded of the US Congressman from Missouri who lost his patience with colleagues who chided him for drawing inferences during the Watergate hearings of the 1970s. I think I can remember Congressman Hungate’s reply virtually verbatim:
In any case, I am not drawing up any legal complaints; I am not lodging any accusations. I am merely saying that if I lived in that parish, my son would not show up for the altar-boy outing. If my suspicions were unfounded, no great harm would have been done; my son might miss a few roller-coaster rides. But if my instincts were accurate, and I did not acknowledge them, and my son went on the outing, and became the latest victim of a clerical predator—I would not want to meet St. Peter with that sin of omission on my conscience. Man to man Now, buckling down to the task at hand, let me ask a few direct questions of my fellow fathers:
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