“He proposed another parable to them. ‘The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everyone was asleep his enemy came and sowed weeds all through the wheat, and then went off.” (Mt 13:24-25)
The hardest part of realizing that my spiritual director took advantage of me sexually was the fact that he also gave me actual help.
I had known Fr. Nick for a couple of years as my University's chaplain when I began seeing him for spiritual direction. At the time, I was recently engaged and experiencing severe anxiety about my vocation. I kept thinking that I should discern a call to religious life, to the extent that I told my fiancé that I thought we should postpone the wedding. I went to Fr. Nick for help and he patiently listened to my concerns. Thanks to his guidance and realization that my thought processes were a symptom of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), and not actually a call from God, I went forward with my engagement. I saw him weekly for Confession and spiritual direction.
He took the time to listen. For someone who struggles with OCD, it is a blessing to find someone patient enough to listen to the same worries over and over again. Previous experience showed me that listening to my repetitive, never-ending struggles could be a burden, even to those closest to me. I was so grateful to have found someone who not only listened patiently, but also went so far as to research how best to help me.
Once or twice, I confessed struggling with sexual thoughts. Fr. Nick wanted details: what exactly had I imagined? There wasn’t much to describe. I was sexually inexperienced and naive, but being asked to go into explicit detail made me deeply uncomfortable. I never thought that his motives for asking might be questionable; after all, aren’t spiritual growth and being held accountable supposed to be uncomfortable?
I never thought that his motives for asking might be questionable; after all, aren’t spiritual growth and being held accountable supposed to be uncomfortable?
Other things also bothered me. I was a part of a group of women at my college who were trying to form a Catholic sorority on campus, modeled after the household system at Franciscan University of Steubenville. Our sorority leader invited Fr. Nick over to bless her new apartment before one of our sleepovers. He blessed the apartment, and then he didn't leave. He stood in that tiny living room, surrounded by young women sprawled out on couches, on the floor, and in chairs wearing little more than pajamas, as if there were only women in the room. The conversation was less than holy. I was so embarrassed and I couldn’t figure out why he just kept standing there, watching.
A couple of weeks before my college graduation, I went to Confession. Afterwards, Fr. Nick wanted a hug. It seemed a little strange, but I was about to graduate and went to him for Confession for years. I let him hug me, and then I started to pull away. He didn’t let me go. He held on tighter and sighed - and I thought I felt something rise up against my leg.
Although it made me uncomfortable (and very glad that I was graduating soon), I tried to excuse it. He helped me so much, and maybe he became attached to me. It was weird, but maybe not totally unexpected. Surely, I imagined feeling him against my leg. I had an overactive mind, that was the entire reason I went to him for help. Surely, that situation wasn't what I thought it was.
I didn’t realize what really happened until nearly four years later, when some of my classmates brought forward a lawsuit against the University for failing to remove him. They also saw him regularly for spiritual direction. He asked them for explicit details about their intimate lives, then gave long, unsolicited hugs and pressed an erection up against them. These women recognized this as problematic sexual behavior and filed a complaint with the University, who did nothing. A local newspaper covered the lawsuit. When I read descriptions of the behavior these other women spoke about, I realized that I recognized it.
Suddenly, my image of him - as a mentor and trustworthy priest who I thanked God for bringing into my life - was shattered. I acquired a different perspective on those years, one that tainted my entire relationship with him and made me want to bathe in bleach.
Suddenly, my image of him - as a mentor and trustworthy priest . . . - was shattered.
Fr. Nick did evil things. Committing sacrilege by taking advantage of the trust and vulnerability afforded in the confessional in order to make a sexual advance on someone is evil. There is no other word for it.
At the same time, I gradually came to understand that the fact that he committed evil does not completely destroy the good that God worked through him.
Don’t misunderstand me: I believe that this man should be removed from ministry. His actions are inexcusable and I hope and pray that he receives the psychological help he needs. I grieve the relationship I thought I had with him. In some ways, I think I have only just begun to understand how deep this particular wound goes. When I think of the other women he harmed, it’s devastating. I reached out to one of the women bringing forth the lawsuit and she has since left the Church, partially because of his behavior and the failure of those in power to do anything about it.
Without negating any of the above, the good that God brings about with a broken instrument remains His good, even when the instrument turns out to be deeply, deeply flawed. I made major life decisions in part because of this man’s guidance; decisions that led me to where I am today and, I believe, to where I’m supposed to be. His advice helped bring me to where I am now: happily married to a good man, with two beautiful children. I’m in a place where I can grow in holiness and where I have the responsibility and privilege of helping others become holy, as well.
[T]he good that God brings about with a broken instrument remains His good, even when the instrument turns out to be deeply, deeply flawed.
God writes straight with crooked lines. The power and goodness of God are far beyond our understanding. He took a man who committed evil, even in the holiest of places, and used him to help bring me towards my vocation. This, at least, gives me some comfort. As the sexual abuse scandals have broken and more of these stories come to light, I hope this thought brings at least some hope to others.
The bad does not nullify the good a person does - and the good does not excuse the bad.
I wonder how many cases of clergy abuse go unreported because the abuser also helped the victim. They say that the longest-lasting lie is one that contains an element of truth. I imagine that something similar could be said of clergy who commit abuse: perhaps those who get away with it the longest are those who have a talent for ministry.
At the same time, that talent does not mean that they should be blindly trusted, or that, if accusations are made against them, they should not be investigated fully. Just because a person does great good does not mean that they are incapable of great evil - such are human nature and free will. Spiritual gifts, like other talents and abilities, are gifts from God, unearned by human efforts or merit. There are sometimes weeds mixed in with the wheat.
If accusations are brought up against apparently ‘holy’ people, they must be investigated - even if the person helped hundreds of people.
Even if the person helped you.
How to Report Sexual Abuse Committed by Clergy
Reporting avenues vary by diocese. For an example of reporting options and resources, you can visit these guides from the Diocese of Manchester, NH and the Diocese of Charlotte, NC.
