Rome, the SCV, and Accountability

Speaking to a parish gathering of Catholic families several years ago, I concluded with the following remarks:

If you’re like me, there’s always a skeptical little voice in your head. And right now it’s wondering if the more hopeful things I often say about the Church are really just pious idealism, and the world is headed for hell in a handbasket anyway. 

I can’t speak for the world. But I can close with an interesting observation. I worked as the senior aide to an archbishop for twenty-three years. And I remember, quite vividly, one of our parishes back in the mid-1990s that was dead on its feet—essentially a walking corpse, with a hearse in the parking lot and its motor running. 

I’m speaking to that parish right now. It’s alive and full and thriving today because of the leadership and vision of its pastor and his community brothers. But even more so, it’s alive because of you, the families and individuals who make up the flesh and blood, the muscle, faith, and soul of the Christian community. Don’t stop doing what you’re doing. We build and rebuild a culture by our witness. Your witness is a model of renewal and hope to many, many others . . . and hope is contagious.

And by the way: Thank you for showing me that Scripture isn’t kidding when it talks about the resurrection of the dead. Your parish is proof of it.

The parish in question is Holy Name Parish in Sheridan, CO. The pastor was and remains Fr. Daniel Cardó, a man of intellect, character, and vision. And his community brothers, like Cardó himself, are members of the Sodalitium Christianae Vitae (SCV). Or at least, Cardó was a member until two days ago. On September 25, the Apostolic Nunciature in Peru issued a press notice announcing the expulsion of ten members from the SCV community.

I’ve written previously about the SCV and its abuse problems—including Rome’s treatment of the community and the SCV’s honest efforts to renew itself—here and here. Take a moment to read both articles. They offer some context for the latest installment in a Church story without redeeming qualities.

Among the members expelled this week are Miguel Salazar and Archbishop José Antonio Eguren, two men I’ve admired from a distance for decades. Also expelled is Eduardo Regal, the SCV’s former superior general who led the community after the fall of the founder. Regal has been a valued friend to my family for years. Alejandro Bermudez—a man of great heart, evangelical zeal, the founder of two excellent Catholic news organizations, ACI Prensa and Catholic News Agency, and also a close, longtime friend—likewise got the (unwarranted) boot. Bermudez seems guilty mainly of a hot temper and vigorously challenging the SCV’s critics. 

Notably and happily missing from the “kill list” is José Ambrozic, yet another personal friend, and the SCV’s former vicar general. Despite repeated, often vicious accusations, Ambrozic has consistently been cleared of any wrongdoing—including by hostile legal proceedings—and has survived with his dignity intact.

In all of these cases, obviously, friendship and admiration can interfere with one’s ability to see reality. I’m no exception—except that as a father of four and grandfather of eleven, I have a particular hatred for the perversion of power in any sexual and mental abuse case. And as a former senior diocesan staffer who dealt with the abuse issue for more than twenty years, I’ve seen every iteration of the abuse crime and the bitter pain it inflicts. The guilty should be punished. The innocent shouldn’t. That applies to the SCV and its members—including personal friends—as forcefully as to anyone else. The problem with the Vatican’s latest intervention is the odor of excess, canonical looseness, ecclesial payback, personal vendetta (the background to the kind of reporting that leads here may be worth examining), and ideological resentment that clings to it.

Daniel Cardó’s expulsion deserves special attention. In a public statement immediately after the SCV expulsions were announced, the Archdiocese of Denver, where Cardó serves, noted that he has done so “nobly and faithfully in Colorado for 17 years. During his time here, Fr. Cardó has not faced a single disciplinary action against him. He is beloved by his parishioners and well-respected in the community.”

Cardó took a parish on the brink of the grave, in a difficult Denver suburb, and turned it into a model of new evangelization energy. I know Fr. Cardó. I’ve seen the results of the work he shares with his SCV brothers. He’s a good priest and a man of integrity committed to the people he pastors—and they know it, which is why the parish thrives, why it’s a place of beauty and life, and why it’s such a magnet for young families. 

So where am I going with this?

Just here: History is a hard judge. It gets the last word (except for God himself) on each of our lives and the consequences of our actions. Vindictiveness is not justice. Something is deeply wrong with Rome’s latest treatment of the SCV. And unless that changes, this complicated pontificate—whatever its other strengths—will be held accountable.

Francis X. Maier, a senior fellow in Catholic Studies at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, is the author of True Confessions: Voices of Faith from a Life in the Church (Ignatius).

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