VTMBH Article: Body
In 1999 I led a Jewish-Catholic pilgrimage to Israel and Rome with Cardinal Bernard Law. His sincere efforts in leading his flock to a deep and enhanced relationship with Jews and Judaism was, and still is, a model for interfaith work.
Law's Boston diocese is now at the epicenter of the sex abuse earthquake that has shaken the Catholic church. Calls for his resignation abound and he was even summoned by the pope in April to Rome.
We in the Jewish community should not make the easy mistake of believing that the church's scandal is merely a <i>shande</i> of the <i>goyim</i>, for we are not immune to the aftershocks.
To begin with, there is an understandable ripple effect when any part of the clergy is held up to negative evaluation. During the past few months, the scrutiny of the behavior of both parish priests and their superiors has shown a dark side to inner church politics and discipline that reflects negatively on all clerical groups. To compound matters, the scandal reinforces the biases of those who are already skeptical about religion and its practitioners.
Because of my personal relationships with the church hierarchy in Boston, I initially reacted to the disclosures of misdoing by suggesting the need for empathy for Law. After all, when it came to Jewish issues as well as other issues such as racism and poverty the Cardinal has steered his diocese in positive directions. Now, of course, it is more difficult to empathize as the details of gross indifference come out again and again. The damage to the fabric of the Catholic laity and its relationship to clergy has reached such a point of anger that it is difficult to see how the road to repair will be possible under Law's leadership.
Outside of the clergy, the scandal in the church has brought all of our joint Jewish-Catholic projects to a halt. There simply seems to be no time or interest now for a number of interfaith projects in our area, including efforts spearheaded by the Anti-Defamation League, the Jewish Community Relations Council, the Synagogue Council of Massachusetts, the American Jewish Committee and the Bureau of Jewish Education. It will take considerable time before we will be able to recharge the necessary flow of energy that has fed Jewish-Catholic relations in Boston for almost three decades. As new and old instances of abuse are disclosed and brought to court, the scandal may cast a moral pall that will hang over the church through at least the end of this decade.
Are there lessons for the Jewish community to learn from these events? Can we extrapolate the failures of the church hierarchy into our community? Do we tolerate sexual abusers in the rabbinate? Do we tolerate domestic abusers in our congregation if they are "respected" heads of household? Do we provide a transparency of our inner disciplinary processes when knowledge of these abuses becomes known?
The rabbinate's policy of zero tolerance in cases of sexual harassment shows that there is more and more sensitivity to the possibility that rabbis are not immune from becoming predators. The policy also reveals the awareness that rabbis and other authority figures can be the object of transference by congregants. The rabbinic canon law prohibition against being alone in a room behind closed doors with a woman other than one's wife (or a man who is not one's husband) is being observed punctiliously in many rabbinic circles far from the precincts of Orthodoxy. It's simply dangerous to do otherwise. Even the intimation of harassment can result in a career destroyed.
Despite the precautions, we must at all costs avoid witch-hunts that will view all clergy as potential sexual predators. We must aim for a spiritual transparency that permits rabbis to explore the subject of sexuality in our lives. We must also correct the facile association of homosexuality and pedophilia. We must educate our children to the realities of sexual responsibility. Vigilance may prevent the amount of casual sexual abuse suffered by teens at the hands of their peers and the date rape phenomenon that accompanies some excesses of college life.
Let there be no doubt, this is not a call to Puritanism and prudery. On the contrary, this is a call to remove the veil of secrecy that surrounds sexual life and show the beauty that Judaism confers on mutual sexual relationships.
The current scandal in the church demands of us a renewed awareness of ourselves as sexual beings. It begs us to examine our own tolerance of other forms of abuse, even if they are within a married or committed relationship. Finally, it asks of all of us to make a commitment to educate our student rabbis, of all denominations, in order for them to understand issues of power and authority vis-à-vis those who come under their tutelage.
Without any unwarranted pride, we can point to our Torah and its values as a solid foundation on which to build our ethical lives.
<i>Rabbi Moshe Waldoks is the spiritual leader of Temple Beth Zion, an independent Jewish congregation in Brookline, Mass.</i>
Law's Boston diocese is now at the epicenter of the sex abuse earthquake that has shaken the Catholic church. Calls for his resignation abound and he was even summoned by the pope in April to Rome.
We in the Jewish community should not make the easy mistake of believing that the church's scandal is merely a <i>shande</i> of the <i>goyim</i>, for we are not immune to the aftershocks.
To begin with, there is an understandable ripple effect when any part of the clergy is held up to negative evaluation. During the past few months, the scrutiny of the behavior of both parish priests and their superiors has shown a dark side to inner church politics and discipline that reflects negatively on all clerical groups. To compound matters, the scandal reinforces the biases of those who are already skeptical about religion and its practitioners.
Because of my personal relationships with the church hierarchy in Boston, I initially reacted to the disclosures of misdoing by suggesting the need for empathy for Law. After all, when it came to Jewish issues as well as other issues such as racism and poverty the Cardinal has steered his diocese in positive directions. Now, of course, it is more difficult to empathize as the details of gross indifference come out again and again. The damage to the fabric of the Catholic laity and its relationship to clergy has reached such a point of anger that it is difficult to see how the road to repair will be possible under Law's leadership.
Outside of the clergy, the scandal in the church has brought all of our joint Jewish-Catholic projects to a halt. There simply seems to be no time or interest now for a number of interfaith projects in our area, including efforts spearheaded by the Anti-Defamation League, the Jewish Community Relations Council, the Synagogue Council of Massachusetts, the American Jewish Committee and the Bureau of Jewish Education. It will take considerable time before we will be able to recharge the necessary flow of energy that has fed Jewish-Catholic relations in Boston for almost three decades. As new and old instances of abuse are disclosed and brought to court, the scandal may cast a moral pall that will hang over the church through at least the end of this decade.
Are there lessons for the Jewish community to learn from these events? Can we extrapolate the failures of the church hierarchy into our community? Do we tolerate sexual abusers in the rabbinate? Do we tolerate domestic abusers in our congregation if they are "respected" heads of household? Do we provide a transparency of our inner disciplinary processes when knowledge of these abuses becomes known?
The rabbinate's policy of zero tolerance in cases of sexual harassment shows that there is more and more sensitivity to the possibility that rabbis are not immune from becoming predators. The policy also reveals the awareness that rabbis and other authority figures can be the object of transference by congregants. The rabbinic canon law prohibition against being alone in a room behind closed doors with a woman other than one's wife (or a man who is not one's husband) is being observed punctiliously in many rabbinic circles far from the precincts of Orthodoxy. It's simply dangerous to do otherwise. Even the intimation of harassment can result in a career destroyed.
Despite the precautions, we must at all costs avoid witch-hunts that will view all clergy as potential sexual predators. We must aim for a spiritual transparency that permits rabbis to explore the subject of sexuality in our lives. We must also correct the facile association of homosexuality and pedophilia. We must educate our children to the realities of sexual responsibility. Vigilance may prevent the amount of casual sexual abuse suffered by teens at the hands of their peers and the date rape phenomenon that accompanies some excesses of college life.
Let there be no doubt, this is not a call to Puritanism and prudery. On the contrary, this is a call to remove the veil of secrecy that surrounds sexual life and show the beauty that Judaism confers on mutual sexual relationships.
The current scandal in the church demands of us a renewed awareness of ourselves as sexual beings. It begs us to examine our own tolerance of other forms of abuse, even if they are within a married or committed relationship. Finally, it asks of all of us to make a commitment to educate our student rabbis, of all denominations, in order for them to understand issues of power and authority vis-à-vis those who come under their tutelage.
Without any unwarranted pride, we can point to our Torah and its values as a solid foundation on which to build our ethical lives.
<i>Rabbi Moshe Waldoks is the spiritual leader of Temple Beth Zion, an independent Jewish congregation in Brookline, Mass.</i>