Death, Always In The Distance

By CHRISTOPHER MANION

In years past, death was part of Catholic life. “Memento Mori.” “Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.” “St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls, pray for us.” After all, “if I die before I wake” didn’t frighten us as children, it comforted us.
In our current era, many don’t appear to find the prospect of death so comforting. In fact, many Catholics approaching old age (or in it) seem determined to ignore the Four Last Things altogether. In particular, it is striking how so many advocates of abortion in public life cling to their frayed fabric of fantasy and repeat the mantra — “I’m personally opposed but. . . .” Long after their brief moment on the stage has faded, very few seem willing to “come clean” and admit that, for whatever reason, they used their public life to betray the truth about life itself.
And apologize? Never.
Consider the late Supreme Court Justice William Brennan of Roe v. Wade fame. I was seated next to him at a diplomatic dinner some thirty years ago — after he had retired from the court. No, I didn’t ask him there if he had ever regretted his critical role in that decision. Nor did I ask if I could come and visit with him later that week to talk about it. Perhaps I didn’t want to “offend” him — why, that would have been “confrontational”!
In fact, I failed him. But some “offenses” can bear fruit. I remember Bob Novak’s account of how his conversion story began. Bob was one of the most prominent reporters of his generation, a Jew with little faith. After he appeared at one of those ubiquitous Washington panels, a stranger approached him when the conference adjourned. She leaned across the table and said simply that eternity was long, and asked if he had ever thought about it.
Bob started thinking. Eventually, he died in the bosom of the Church. And so, apparently, did Justice Brennan. His Catholic funeral was attended by numerous dignitaries at St. Matthew’s Cathedral in Washington, D.C. No, he never publicly repented his role in Roe. Whatever his own views, the simple fact is that such a public statement would have severely damaged his “legacy.”
Then one thinks of Gov. Mario Cuomo, who took to the stage at Notre Dame to pioneer the “personally opposed to abortion but” charade. Cuomo never repented publicly, and his funeral Mass was celebrated at St. Ignatius Loyola Church in New York.
And how can we forget Teddy Kennedy? The funeral Mass for this champion of abortion was held in Our Lady of Perpetual Help Basilica in Boston. And consider his brother Jack. He kept a 19-year-old White House intern as his personal mistress for over a year, even passing her around to pleasure his friends at the White House pool. That did not prevent his state funeral from being celebrated at Washington’s St. Matthew’s Cathedral.
Today, long after Camelot died and JFK’s scandals have been acknowledged — even celebrated — his secular canonization is memorialized at his gravesite by an “Eternal Flame” (the only one he ever had); every spring thousands of yellow school buses from around the country disgorge high school students on their senior trip at Arlington National Cemetery to pay homage to Camelot.
That’s what is known as a major-league “legacy.”

An Archbishop’s Letter —
Yes, A Love Letter

All this comes to mind as we read that Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò has written former cardinal Theodore McCarrick a public letter begging him to issue a public statement of repentance. Last summer, the revelations of the former nuncio to the United States regarding McCarrick’s role in the scandals rocked the Church to its very foundations. Now he addresses McCarrick personally, as a brother in Christ.
“No matter what decision the supreme authority of the Church takes in your case,” Viganò writes, “what really matters and what has saddened those who love you and pray for you is the fact that throughout these months you haven’t given any sign of repentance. I am among those who are praying for your conversion, that you may repent and ask pardon of your victims and the Church.”
How many, how many public figures could qualify for a similar plea? Yes, their legacy is at stake, and Archbishop Viganò is well aware that McCarrick has a legacy too. He gloried in the limelight for decades as he accumulated power beyond that of any other American prelate of his generation. Instead of belittling this hubris, however, Viganò acknowledges it and appeals to it: Why, McCarrick could take a step that would be truly historic! His last act could outshine even his most illustrious achievements:
“But something else of great importance is also at stake,” Viganò continues. “You, paradoxically, have at your disposal an immense offer of great hope for you from the Lord Jesus; you are in a position to do great good for the Church. In fact, you are now in a position to do something that has become more important for the Church than all of the good things you did for her throughout your entire life.”
Notice that Viganò doesn’t belittle McCarrick, he builds him up, strengthens him, preparing him for an act that would undoubtedly be the hardest thing he has ever done in his life:
“A public repentance on your part would bring a significant measure of healing to a gravely wounded and suffering Church. Are you willing to offer her that gift? Christ died for us all when we were still sinners (Romans 5:8). He only asks that we respond by repenting and doing the good that we are given to do. The good that you are in a position to do now is to offer the Church your sincere and public repentance. Will you give the Church that gift?”
Viganò knows that no one can force McCarrick to do anything. But aren’t countless other public scandalmongers in the same situation? Over the past fifty years, hundreds of Catholic pro-abortion politicians have escaped any canonical condemnation at all. As they die off, one by one, we never hear a word of remorse or apology. Will an overture like Viganò’s bring them to their senses?
“Time is running out,” he tells McCarrick, “but you can confess and repent of your sins, crimes, and sacrileges, and do so publicly, since they have themselves become public. Your eternal salvation is at stake.”

Bad Things Happen
When You Do Nothing

The unique aspect of the McCarrick scandal comes with the likelihood that he will be publicly reprimanded in some fashion by Pope Francis, with possible consequences including reduction to the lay state and even excommunication. But he will be the exception. It is unlikely that any of the dozens of American prelates who covered up for abusers will ever be removed.
Curiously, most U.S. bishops have refrained from making a similar request of McCarrick publicly. So far, only Bishop Joseph Strickland of Tyler, Texas, has publicly endorsed Viganò’s plea. Many of our bishops are simply afraid — after all, the door of fraternal correction swings both ways.
And what is the price of doing nothing? A Gallup Poll taken in December found that “a record-low 31 percent of U.S. Catholics rate the honesty and ethical standards of the clergy as ‘very high’ or ‘high.’ This marks an 18-percentage-point drop between 2017 and 2018.”
What will come next? Archbishop Viganò is praying, and so should we.