Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God (2012)

 

The child-abuse scandal which continues to embroil the Catholic Church feels like it’s been happening forever. In fact it has. In the new film “Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God,” filmmakers uncover church writings about pedophilia committed by priests that dates back hundreds of years. Priest jokes fill late-night monologues. Headlines are splashed across newspaper columns. Like mass shootings, the incidents have become so commonplace, we hardly raise an eyebrow when the latest one occurs. In the time since I watched this film and posted this review, the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, and Cardinal Keith O’Brian (the highest-ranking Catholic in the UK), both have admitted to sexual indiscretions, or paid millions to settle abuse cases. But what’s the true story behind the church’s role in all of this? How much is it to blame? Did it punish the guilty, and comfort victims?

Directed by noted documentarian Alex Gibney (Enron: the Smartest Guys in the Room, Taxi to the Dark Side, Freakanomics, Client 9: the Rise and Fall of Eliot Spitzer), “Mea Maxima Culpa” (which translates to "my most grievous fault") delves deeply into the issue, unearthing several disturbing answers along the way.

The film begins simply with a letter, written by a former student at the St. John’s School for the Deaf, in Milwaukee, Wisc, to the Vatican. In it, the student details how Father Murhpy, the school’s headmaster from the late 50s through the early 70s, molested hundreds of children, over decades. The father found a perfect storm of opportunity: young, defenseless children (most unable to speak and largely unable to communicate with the outside world, which typically doesn’t understand sign language) were preyed upon mercilessly by Father Murphy. In addition, not only did the priest suffer no consequences for his crimes, he enlisted a cadre of older students, who also participated in the abuse (“grooming the children for Father Murphy”).

Surely the letter is detailed and damning enough to require a response.

The Church never did.

From there, the film expands its focus. It illuminates the many avenues which might’ve stopped the abuse, and how they all proved to be dead ends.

One explanation states the abuse was nothing more than a few bad apples, and that the entire church shouldn’t be held accountable for their actions, regardless of how heinous. But the film details the abuse as a global epidemic, involving numerous clergy, and indeed the Vatican, itself. One cardinal, a chief-fundraiser and close confidant of Pope John Paul II, is even shown with multiple mistresses and children.

Through interviews with former and current members of the church, the filmmakers build a case, piece-by-piece, against the entirety of the church. Who knew the church has a special branch (the Congregation of the Servants of the Paraclete), tasked solely with dealing with pedophile priests? The problem existed to such an extent, that the church once took initial steps towards buying a remote island, upon which to sequester its criminal element. Internal documents show that this problem existed, all over the world, for over 1700 years. I didn’t. Or that the most-recent Pope, in his previous role as Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal Ratzinger, ordered that every case of alleged abuse be sent directly to his office, so he could personally review each one? He, more than anyone, knows the scope of this problem.

One subject of the film is a former priest, who describes his role in the scandal. He was tasked with traveling the country, putting out fires where abuse was alleged. Dismayed that he’s more of a fixer (he details a multi-million dollar budget, doled out when and only if the injured party would sign a binding confidentiality agreement) than someone ministering to victims, he left the church in disgust.

About the fact that abuse was committed by many, many parish priests, there is no longer any question. What’s astounding about “Mea Maxima Culpa” is not only the scope of the tragedy, but also how many others aided in the cover-up. In addition to members of the church hierarchy (all the way up the ladder to current and former Popes), others responsible for the welfare of children were also involved, either by action or inaction. Nuns, local police departments, and political figures were implicitly involved. Several times watching this film, I felt incredulous at how many opportunities to interrupt the abuse were either missed, or willingly ignored. The churches moral failings are twofold: initially denying there was (is) a problem then, perhaps even more egregious, doing everything in its power to cover up the crimes. Moving priests to new parishes. Neglecting to reach out to victims or their families. Countless times the church dragged its feet about decisions on what to do about criminal activity by its minions, allowing predators to continue harming children, without consequences.

In one riveting scene, a now-adult former student confronts Father Murphy, who is retired, and living in a cabin in the woods of Wisconsin. See how the priest reacts. Earlier in the film he justifies and rationalizes his behavior, when church investigators question him. Now, older, tired, and nearing death, faced with an adult rather than a child, he is too weak to maintain his feeble, dishonest defense.

Full disclosure: I’m not a Catholic. In truth, I have no religious affiliation of any kind (which perhaps makes me the perfect reviewer for this film). I have neither an axe to grind, nor any emotional connections about which to feel defensive.

That said, I imagine many who see this picture will have strong feelings, one way or the other. The subjects (child molestation, the Catholic Church) are too intimate and personal.

“Mea Maxima Culpa” shows the failure of several layers of society to protect innocent children from predators. Nuns, law enforcement, local district attorneys, and the Vatican itself all were complicit in allowing the abuse to continue as long as it did. Any could have done more—anything—to prevent molestation, but instead either rationalized away the crimes or worse, pretended they didn’t exist, and ignored them altogether. As one interviewee says “these aren’t sinners, they’re criminals.”

This is a meticulously investigated, damning indictment of the church, whose crimes are numerous, blatant, and egregious. Rather than acknowledging the rampant problem, punishing the guilty, and reaching out to support victims, Catholic leaders closed ranks, and allowed crimes to continue. In the name of protecting their brand, they aided in the further injury of countless innocents. This is one of the best films of 2012.