A worse sin than ‘immorality’ is moral cowardice

Susmariosep. What a to-do over the alleged sexual misconduct of Bishop Teodoro Bacani, Jr. of Novaliches – a new bishopric specially created for him only last January!

Poor Bishop Bacani, after issuing a denial, declaring he had never sexually harassed his secretary (whose boyfriend, an ex-seminarian had urged her to complain publicly), fled to America.

Should he have cut and run? Or remained to clear his name? Everybody has expressed a strong opinion. Some claim he should have stayed and "faced the music". Others say: Let the Vatican judge him. Golly, what a lot of pontificating has been going on. I guess it’s human nature. Bishop Bacani, who’s spiritual counselor of Brother Mike Velarde’s El Shaddai, certainly attracted the "evil eye" by being quick to condemn some people – whether from the pulpit, or in his newspaper columns.

Now, in reverse, many are quick to condemn him. I can sympathize with the unfortunate Bishop, who was once riding high, and now finds himself steeped in ignominy. When guys like myself who foolishly prided ourselves on being such influential men in media were arrested in the first hour of martial law, we fell from grace faster than Lucifer being toppled from Brightest Angel in heaven to Darkest Devil in hell. We became "unpersons".

When I was released from military prison, nobody would hire me for two years. People for whom I had done favors, even one whose life I’d virtually "saved" used to cross the street to avoid me, afraid of being seen talking to a "subversive" (and subsequently being questioned by the military, who hounded us ex-prisoners).

I had lost my newspaper column, my television show – my entire life and career. We should have counted ourselves lucky to have been able to live on, even in "disgrace" under the Marcos dictatorship. Others had lost their lives: Either tortured to death, murdered, or "salvaged".

We lived at least to fight another day.

As for Bishop Bacani, if he did wrong, he did wrong. If he is innocent, then, truth (as they say of murder) will eventually emerge. The lady secretary – who reluctantly, it appears, finally came forward to accuse him – is equally entitled to voice her anger and feeling of violation.

In the meantime, I wish all this public furor – with everyone already having had his say (and loudly at that) – would simmer down. We’ve got more important issues to contend with. Of course, the "immorality or moral uprightness" of a man of God is cause for concern, particularly among the Faithful who may lose their faith. But what the heck (did I almost say "what the hell?") hadn’t our Lord declared to the first Pope, the fisherman Simon, who had denied him thrice before the cock crowed: "You are Peter, the rock, and upon this rock I will build my church – and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."

In the meantime, let’s get back to work.

When all is said and done, immorality is wrong; but the kind of moral cowardice so many of us exhibit in daily life is an even worse sin. We shrink from doing the right things because they are difficult. We seek the easy way out. We don’t stand up for justice, for others, for our own honor.

* * *

I don’t believe people will lose their faith just because another "churchman" is seen to have gone "the way of all flesh". Ever since Adam and Eve and the apple (offered by the serpent), this has been the curse of Original Sin.

Whenever, there’s a foofoorah over a priest or bishop siring children out of wedlock, I recall the first time I went to Rome as a young man, a devout Sodalist and member of the Legion of Mary. A classmate of mine from Harvard, a wealthy Italian artist, who had just broken up with his wife, an up-and-coming young woman novelist, had invited me to his empty flat overlooking the charming Piazza del Popolo. (My artistic classmate-friend, Lucio Pozz, a year later, had distinguished himself by leading a nude march of protesters!)

In any event, dominating that famous piazza was a cute chapel, which, I subsequently learned, had been built by a Pope to honor his mistress, and her body had been interred under the main altar. As soon as this "romantic" Pope died, however, his successor in the Papacy, had the lady’s bones dug up and transferred elsewhere, and the chapel re-sanctified and all evil vapors exorcised.

* * *

Take the most famous of them all, the colorful Borgias. Among the most notorious of the Catholic notables was Cesare Borgia (1476-1507), Duke of Valentinois and Romagna. He was the son of Pope Alexander VI, by Vanozza del Cattanei. He had been born in Rome when his father was cardinal.

When dad was elected Pope, Cesare was named Archbishop of Valencia, and just a year later, Cardinal. Having led a profligate life in the Vatican as a youth, Cesare became one of the Vatican State’s most courageous and resourceful generals, renowned during the Renaissance for his military conquests, and firm periods of rule, but also for guile and treachery.

Even more renowned was Lucrezia Borgia (1480-1519), Duchess of Ferrara, also a daughter of Pope Alexander VI (formerly known as Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia). She was married to Alphonso of Aragon, Duke of Bisceglie – after having had her previous marriage to the King of Naples "annulled" conveniently by Papa, the Holy Father. She and her second husband truly loved each other, but in 1499 her husband was murdered by order of her brother Cesare.

Scandals continue to bedevil the Vatican, even today. Aside from a Pope who lasted only one month (was he murdered for learning too much?), there’s the scandal of the night of Monday, May 4, 1998. Everyone admires the Swiss Guards (a company founded in 1905), whose duty it is to protect the Vicar of Christ, the supreme spiritual authority in the world for us and the rest of the 1.1 billion Roman Catholics.

Tourists flocking to St. Peter’s always snap photos of them in their picturesque costumes designed by Michelangelo. They, of course, have more modern weapons and uniforms stashed away in their barracks for less ceremonial occasions.

Yet, on that fateful night, in Vatican territory, the bodies of the commander of the Swiss Guards, his wife, and a young lance corporal were found dead in the barracks of the Guards. Four hours later, the Vatican announced that the lance corporal, 23-year-old Cedro Tornay, had shot the murdered couple, then committed suicide in a "fit of madness" provoked by frustration with the unit’s "discipline". This conclusion was affirmed by the Vatican after a nine-month "internal inquiry".

I’ve just finished reading a contradictory version of this report, entitled City of Secrets: The Truth Behind the Murders at the Vatican (Harner Collins, 2003, New York) by John Follain, who covered Italy and the Vatican as correspondent of the Sunday Times of London since 1998.

Follain assails the official report as "a travesty, a tissue of suppositions, contradictions, and omissions". The volume is reputedly based on three years of inquiries. Follain alleges that the Vatican staged an elaborate plot to obstruct justice, and hide the truth "behind the scandals it dares not confess".

I won’t endorse the book as God’s truth, but its cover blurb ought to fascinate you. Echoing the pace and plotting of a high-stakes thriller, Follain’s true-life tale of intrigue moves from the guard’s barracks and the Pope’s palace in Vatican City to Paris, Berlin, and the Swiss Alps, and features a fascinating cast: An old, suffering John Paul II; his chief bodyguard, formerly accused of spying for the Soviet bloc; a mysterious priest punished by the Vatican; and the powerful Opus Dei sect.

One thing is certain: Follain will never be beatified or sanctified as "St. James Bond".

On the other hand, it is always our duty as good Catholics to challenge the Church Temporal, the hierarchy that lays claim to our fealty in the world of men. The Church Eternal, the Faith, is another matter altogether. The Apostle’s Creed says it all. We believe. We pray. God loves us.