BRIDGEPORT

BRIDGEPORT

“This is the Milwaukee Long Distance Operator. I have a call for Archbishop Hanren’s office from Chicago.”

“Yes, operator. We are expecting the call.”

“Thank you. I’ll connect you now.”

“Hello, Archbishop Hanren’s office?”

“Yes, it is, I will lay this phone down and get Reverend Eicher. You are Reverend Barnes?”

“Yes, I am Reverend Peter Barnes in the office of Archbishop Finnean in Chicago.”

Peter Barnes heard the clunk of the phone being laid on a table or desk. He waited as he heard the ka clunk, ka clunk, ka clunk of the nun’s receding footsteps. Peter Barnes, Secretary to His Excellency Thomas Finnean, Archbishop of Chicago knew a favor would be asked. He had this job rather than being a Pastor or Assistant at some local parish because he’d proven himself to be a good deflector and negotiator trusted by all. The local parishes rarely called just to share good news and a call from another Archdiocese always meant they wanted something. Most of the communication was between Secretaries or other senior staff. Occasionally a prelate would call directly for his fellow prelate and signaled high priority or high confidentiality. This would be a more routine request, and he was authorized to approve, not decline. Negative responses to another Archdiocese, especially a neighboring Archdiocese would require discussion with the Archbishop. A letter had arrived a few days earlier indicating a call would be placed to discuss one Pastor Honza Mrazek. Further details had not been provided so Peter Barnes knew a request would be made, probably a transfer or reassignment and probably because Reverend Honza Mrazek had gotten himself into some kind of trouble.

“Peter, Bob Eicher here. How are you?”

“Good Bob, thank you. I enjoyed meeting you at the Chicago conference in May. I’m calling about the Reverend Honza Mrazek matter.”

“Yes, Peter. I’d prefer we were on a more pleasant errand, but we do need some help.”

“We understand Bob. It is unfortunate, but it does happen. Can you give me the history on Reverend Mrazek?”

“Yes, Peter. Honza Mrazek is 37 years old. He graduated from St Anthony Friary and Seminary in Marathon in 1936. He is the fifth child of seven in a good Catholic family. His was the sole vocation to the priesthood in the family and one sister entered the sisterhood. He was assigned to a larger parish in Superior as an assistant until 1943. He volunteered to be a Chaplin and was turned down for medical reasons. I think he was overweight and had flat feet. He requested reassignment and was then assigned to a small parish and was the sole Pastor. Some parishioners complained of his touching young boys in a carnal manner a few months ago, and I’m afraid I have no specifics. He was admonished and we were contacted. This is the first alleged instance. We did not investigate, and nothing has been proven.”

“So you want us to take him off your hands Bob, do I hear you right?”

“Yes, Peter. Sending him to the Michigan center for counseling and rehabilitation was considered but since he’s been in the priesthood for nine years and this was the first reported instance of suspected abuse we decided to relocate him if someone would take him.”

“How many have said no Bob?”

“Three Peter. We realize we are asking for a big favor.”

“We’ll take him, Bob. Send him to this office and let me know when he is coming.”

“Thank you, Peter. His Grace will be pleased and grateful. We will keep you all in our prayers.”’

“C’mon Bob. Save the applesauce. We’ll take the prayers, though. We may need them with this guy. His Grace has a soft heart for penitent priests, but we do not have an impressive track record. Some of us have spoken with psychologists, and we are becoming convinced of no cure or successful rehabilitation once they get out of their teens. The Church has a serious problem waiting to explode if no cure or successful rehabilitation is found. I, for one, subscribe to the notion that pedophilia is incurable. Profiling is imperfect, and the Church provides guaranteed access to young boys. Priests have instant credibility.”

“I’ll be honest with you Peter. We’ve had similar discussions. This should be the topic in a national conference, but no one is willing to make it an official topic. The program agenda would be in the hands of the press as soon as it was printed and we’d be fighting a defensive battle. It is a secret the Church must keep, but we all know it will soon become a major issue.”

“We’ll take your man and find a parish for him Bob. We’ll keep him close by so we can keep track of him. You owe me a martini at the St. Louis conference.”

Father Peter dropped the phone into the cradle and closed his eyes. Oh God please help us do the right thing. Your consecrated servants deserve second chances. Maybe third chances. We’ll need some help.

Reverend Barnes slipped quietly into the back of a conference room where a delegation of priests from Carbondale and Cairo, Illinois were wrapping up a meeting with Archbishop Finnean

The Archbishop nodded to Reverend Peter Barnes as the group left. Peter bowed slightly to him and reported in a whisper that he had completed to call to Archbishop Hanren’s office with the anticipated results.

“Saint Sabinian’s in Bridgeport needs an assistant Pastor, Your Grace. Pastor Peter Jamison Ronglin is nearing seventy years and cannot keep up the pace.”

“Fine Peter. Good work, ” replied Archbishop Finnean. “Please call Pastor Ronglin and tell him we have a gift for him.”

Peter Barnes, Secretary to Thomas Finnean, Archbishop of Chicago, returned to his office and called Pastor Ronglin at St. Sabinian’s in Bridgeport.

“Reverend Peter Barnes for Pastor Ronglin.”

“Yes, of course, Peter. I’ll get him.”

“Hello, Peter.”

“We have a gift for you Pete.”

“Well, I can hardly wait.”

“Father Honza Mrazek will arrive next week from Wisconsin. We’ll let you know what train he’ll be on.”

“I’m too old to believe in gifts, Peter. Tell me the story.”

“Honza is in his thirties. He was in a bit of trouble at his parish. There was an unverified complaint about how he treated altar boys, and he was sent on at the behest of some parishioners.”

“So I get to rehabilitate him.”

“Unverified Pete. Small parish in northern Wisconsin. You know how rumors get blown out of proportion in country parishes.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Well Pete, you may drop a bit on His Grace’s list if you don’t take him.”

“I have a large parish, a school, a bunch of feisty old nuns and some unreliable volunteers. I have needed help for a long time, Peter.”

“I’m just the messenger Pete.”

“Tell His Excellency Archbishop Finnean I’m doing him a favor.”

“Thank you, Pete. We’ll let you know when he arrives.”