Following the Misneach TG4 programme, produced by Midas Productions and broadcast last autumn but given a repeat airing recently, which dealt with my relationship with church authorities, I got considerable response from viewers. It gave a detailed account of the treatment meted out to me by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the Vatican censorship board that purports to guard orthodoxy and root out heresy. For me, the main value of the programme was that it told my story in a clear, coherent manner. People who responded to me afterwards said that, although they had already known certain aspects of my situation, it was the first time they learned precisely what had happened.
What struck most people about my treatment by the Vatican was the absence of due process. In the resolution of any dispute, natural justice demands at least the following steps: a written account of the complaint against the person; the defendant having an opportunity to cross-examine the complainant and state his/her case in the course of defence; and access to an appeals process.
Most people are familiar with these principles as they observe the workings of civil society. By contrast, the programme portrayed a disciplinary system wherein I had no chance to defend my views, and judgment was passed - and actions demanded of me were decided - even before I got a chance to open my mouth. I wasn’t given the identity of whoever had made a complaint about me. Someone in close contact with the Vatican suggested it was a senior member of the Irish church, but there is no proof of this.
I am always relieved to hear discussion on church teachings being broadened, but what is the difference between saying something in 2012 and saying the same thing in 2024?
People have questioned how a church could treat one of its members in this fashion. I can only say that the church seems to operate as if in a bubble and is utterly confident that it knows what is “good” for the person deemed to have erred. Vatican congregations, or dicasteries as they are now called, have similarities with what we know in civil society as government departments. The difference is that while government departments are accountable to the citizens through elected representatives, Vatican congregations are not accountable to church members, or indeed to anybody outside of that narrow network of its ruling beaurcracy, the curia.
Much of this culture of secrecy and high-handedness came back to me as I watched the recent documentary on the late Eamonn Casey. In the later stage of his life he was not ministering as a priest but people did not know the reason for this.
When I was put out of ministry I was warned to “tell no one”. I would consider myself superhuman, or very foolish, if I did not tell those who were closest to me. At the time, in 2012, I wanted to protect my reputation as it was a period in Ireland when any priest who suddenly dropped out of sight was the subject of rumour, innuendo, hints and allegations. It was a relief when the media began to question me about my absence from church ministry.
It struck some viewers of the programme last autumn as odd that 12 years later I still remain suspended. Many priests and people are now publicly favouring the sacramental ordination of women and are of the view that church teaching on sexuality needs to change - opinions that led to my suspension. Such views, and others equally challenging, feature regularly in the synodal process currently taking place in the church, and nobody is being sanctioned in any way. I am always relieved to hear discussion on church teachings being broadened but I, and many who watched the Misneach programme, wonder what is the difference between saying something in 2012 and saying the same thing in 2024?
Finally, the central government of the church is expert at washing its hands of bad news. In institutional language, the Vatican can say it did not remove me from public ministry, it merely instructed the Superior of the Redemptorists in Rome to do so. Sadly, my religious family submitted in a supine fashion and, in doing so, colluded with the injustice.
So where am I now? I don’t want to become a martyr, or to be seen as a victim. I received and continue to receive great support for which I am very grateful, but I am also aware that some people, both within the Redemptorist Congregation and the wider Catholic community, while acknowledging that I did not get fair treatment, wish I would just shut up about it. I understand this view – indeed I have often said the same thing about people who repeatedly publicly pound home their stance on various issues. So why do I go on about it all?
I am not alone; other people in the church have been treated in a similar way. Maybe I hope that if my situation continues to be highlighted, it just might force Catholic Church authorities to “act justly, love tenderly and walk humbly with their God”.
Fr Tony Flannery is a Redemptorist priest
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