Conspicuously absent from the hoopla of last week's papal election was talk of the Catholic Church's ongoing pedophilia problem and whether Pope Benedict XVI intends to be more proactive than his predecessor in combating it. For former D.C. ironworker and Polish immigrant John Wojnowski, the sounds of silence emanating from the church have been deafening.
Wojnowski, 61, was barely a teenager when he was sexually molested by a village priest in Italy. He was camping in the mountains with his two brothers when the priest convinced him to come to the rectory, supposedly to study Latin.
The abuse that occurred that day traumatized him throughout his life. He remembers being a happy child until the incident and recalls being asked repeatedly after it happened why he was always so sad. His ex-wife says he was always withdrawn, insecure, and \just different."" As he worked construction jobs high above the ground, he frequently had thoughts of suicide.
For years afterwards, Wojnowski blocked out the events of that day, even going as far as to tell his mother that a priest had touched him but that he had slapped the priest's hand away. But in 1997, he had a flashback about his molestation and he gathered the courage to tell a Maryland priest about it. The priest said Wojnowski had grounds to demand compensation from the church, and he encouraged him to write a letter to the Apostolic Nunciature, the official designation for the Vatican embassy, and the archdiocese of Washington.
After a long delay, however, Wojnowski was informed that the priest who, in the archdiocese's words ""allegedly,"" abused him was long dead and that while the church would pay for his therapy, the statute of limitations had passed, and there was nothing more they could do.
Incensed, Wojnowski showed up in front of the Apostolic Nunciature, across the street from the U.S. Naval Observatory and the vice president's mansion, with a sign reading ""My life was ruined by a Catholic pedophile priest.""
He has remained in that spot during parts of every day for the last eight years. He has used several different signs, partly for variety and partly because some of them have been ripped out of his hands. He has had no further official contact with the embassy, but he says that several priests have cursed at him and one has even given him the finger. For years, most of the people passing by along busy Massachusetts Ave. NW, including myself and my family, thought he was a lunatic, but now he receives mostly horn-honks of support.
Despite the more-than-occasional sprinkling of epithets and flying objects, he's not going anywhere. His fight has given him a semblance of purpose, and he's not staying home until the church directly apologizes to him and pays for his suffering. He doesn't have an exact dollar figure in mind; as he puts it, ""Whatever they think is right for a life of sadness.""
The ball is in the new pope's court now. Pope John Paul II attempted to hush up this issue. He never met with a single victim and largely dismissed the problem as a creation of media sensationalism. Will Benedict XVI take strong steps to crack down on pedophilia and proclaim loudly to the world that priests who abuse their parishioners will be punished? Or will he follow the example of John Paul and try to sweep the issue under the rug?
Thus far, it is unclear. In 2002, then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger angered abuse victims by saying that the American media was orchestrating ""a planned campaign"" to blow the problem out of proportion.
On the other hand, Ratzinger was instrumental in implementing a change to church rules allowing American bishops to more easily remove abusive priests. Lord knows, updating its rules to fit the times is not something the church hierarchy does easily or often.
Either way, Benedict XVI has a serious obligation on his hands. It is one thing to grant that the church's views of birth control and homosexuality will take some time to evolve. But there is no excuse for not seizing the reins and giving abuse victims like John Wojnowski a small penance to help make up for years of trauma. Continuing with business as usual is not just more silence. It's a sin.
