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As predicted, the release on Feb. 27 of the report prepared by the John Jay College of Criminal Justice on sexual abuse by members of the Catholic clergy created another sizable aftershock in the crisis that has shaken the Catholic Church.

The morning the Mother of God

For those who have been following the sexual abuse crisis in the American Catholic Church since the mid-1980’s, the reports by the John Jay College of Criminal Justice and the National Review Board for the Protection of Children and Young People provided confirmation of hunches and the destruc
By now, even casual readers of newspapers and viewers of television know that in June 2002 the bishops of the United States, meeting in Dallas, Tex., set up a board of distinguished lay Catholic men and women to review the crisis created by the sexual abuse of minors by priests. On Feb. 27, 2004, th

Resurrection Faith

Many thanks for the fine article by John W. O’Malley, S.J., on Anna Katherine Emmerich and the Mel Gibson film (3/15). His historical sketch of the Passion tradition prompts two thoughts regarding the relationship between that tradition and the post-Vatican lI emphasis on the Resurrection. That emphasis makes sense theologically, of course, but liturgically it has generated zingy church songs (I hesitate to call them hymns) in which we Catholics now celebrate ourselves as the finger-snapping people of God who, it seems, are so lucky to know that God loves us, thanks to our Resurrection faith. Fortunately, that is hard to do during Passion Week, one of the few times a Catholic is likely to hear a classic hymn in Latin. It also occurs to me that unlike Good Friday, or for that matter the Jewish Day of Atonement, Easter, which (as we might say) celebrates the fact that the last words of Jesus on the cross were not God’s last word, must compete with chocolate bunnies, egg-rolls, pagan sunrise services and other insipid rites of spring. Without the somberness of Passiontide, Easter these days would be unbearable, just as Good Friday without Easter would be meaningless.

Kenneth L. Woodward

One afternoon in early February, a sad-eyed man in a faded parka was standing on a corner in Midtown Manhattan. He was timidly trying to distribute cards for a nearby sandwich-and-salad shop, but the crowd brushed past him. Not far away, two young women were more successful. Smiling and twittering,
In devout Catholic circles 50 years ago, Anne Catherine Emmerich (1774-1824), a German mystic and stigmatic, was a well-known and revered figure. She was later all but forgotten by most people until last fall, when Mel Gibson mentioned in an interview that her book on Christ’s Passion had infl
Some of the priests identified as abusers, staring out from the pages of the local newspapers, are not strangers to me. I was on the faculty of the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception in Huntington, N.Y., from 1965 through 1979. I taught Scripture all those years and was rector for the last six. I
Why am I writing this? More to the point, why are you reading it? The answer is simple. Everybody has to say something about it, and many of you feel you have to see it. Even before seeing the film—and making it clear that I had not yet seen it—I was badgered into making statements on it
Sexual Abuse Brought Smoke of SatanIn its report on the causes of the crisis of sexual abuse by Catholic clergy in the United States, released on Feb. 27, the National Review Board said grievously sinful acts of priests and inaction by bishops let the smoke of Satan enter the church.As a result the