Peter Stanford
09 May 2025 11:27am BST
Pope Leo XIV has previously denied any claims of mishandling abuse investigations Credit: Getty
Within hours of Robert Prevost’s election as Pope Leo XIV, his old friend from Chicago and fellow Augustinian priest, Fr William Lego, was asked about the challenges facing the new leader of the Catholic Church. He described clerical sex abuse as “the toughest”. It was also clearly an issue on the minds of the cardinal electors in the Sistine Chapel. The damage done to the moral authority of the Catholic Church by its decades-long cover-up of priests and monks abusing children reportedly featured prominently in the discussions the world’s 251 cardinals held in Rome before the 134 of them under the age of 80 went in to vote.
The dark shadow that clerical abuse has cast over the Church has already touched the new Pope (though he has rebutted all claims of mishandling abuse investigations). Campaigning group SNAP (Survivors’ Network of those Abused by Priests), which has a membership of 25,000, has alleged that while a senior figure in his Augustinian order in Chicago, Fr Prevost allowed one of his friars, accused of child sex abuse, to be housed close to a primary school. It also claims that, while a missionary bishop in Peru in Chiclayo from 2015 to 2023, he did not follow Church rules on the proper investigation of three of his priests around allegations of abusing children.
Another of those taking to the airwaves to talk about the new Pope since his election has been his older brother, John. He hailed him as “a second Pope Francis”. But if Pope Leo is to truly get to grips with the abuse scandal in the Church, his predecessor may not be the best role model.
A girl ties baby shoes to a fence as part of a protest to highlight sexual abuses in the Catholic Church during Pope Francis’s visit to Dublin in 2018 Credit: Gonzalo Fuentes/Reuters
Though loved as a “people’s pope”, with an easy charm, winning smile and refusal to hide behind the trappings of the papacy, Francis could also occasionally show flashes of anger, as during his January 2018 visit to Chile. There he was being publicly rebuked by victims of clerical abuse for appointing a priest, Juan Barros, as a bishop in the diocese of Osorno despite claims that he knew (from complaints by victims sent to the Vatican) of allegations that Barros had witnessed and covered-up what the Church itself had already formally judged to be sexual exploitation of young people by a popular priest, Fernando Karadima.
Francis’s response to being challenged was angry and unmeasured. “It is calumny,” he snapped. “Is that clear?”
It prompted demonstrations in Chile by loyal Catholics who would otherwise have been out in the street celebrating a papal visit. Barros denied any wrongdoing, but even Cardinal Sean O’Malley of Boston, who headed the Commission for the Protection of Minors, set up by Francis in 2014 to take “decisive action” on clerical sex abuse, publicly rebuked his boss. Francis’s words, he said, “abandon those who have suffered reprehensible criminal violations of their human dignity and relegate survivors to discredited exile”.
In fairness to Francis – and much more in keeping with that popular image of him as a pope who encouraged the Catholic Church to change entrenched teachings on sex and gender – he subsequently sent an envoy to Chile on a fact-finding mission, then summoned all 31 Chilean bishops to Rome for a ticking-off and finally sacked three of them.
He also met victims of Karadima to apologise, and reportedly told them, “I was part of the problem”. He made a point of sitting down in private gatherings and listening to others who had been groomed and betrayed by clerics throughout his pontificate.
Yet in the years that followed, his promise to put the problem right did not translate into action. All experts advise that two changes are needed to ensure youngsters are safe around priests. The first is to agree to a wholly independent safeguarding process, rather than the current set-up where the Church acts as judge and jury. It is a demand the campaigning group the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests (SNAP) has already asked the new Pope Leo to implement in a six-page letter released yesterday.
The second – as recommended in 2017 by a Royal Commission on child abuse in Australia – is to introduce mandatory reporting of such abuse by any individual who sees or hears about it, including priests in the confessional. Francis refused to do either.
“The idea of Francis turning over a new leaf on all of this feels very hollow to victims and survivors,” the lawyer Richard Scorer told me in 2023. He has represented hundreds of victims of clerical sex abuse in the UK. “The harm caused [to them] by abuse is lifelong. Closure is generally a very glib word. I’m not sure people get it. They struggle to achieve it.”
Francis, of course, was not the only pope to fail in this crucial area, where the numbers involved are extraordinary, covering between 1.5 and 5% of all ordained clergy over the past half century according to Vatican officials’ own estimates. Indeed, he did considerably better than his two predecessors.
John Paul II (pontiff from 1978 to 2005) simply ignored thousands of reports of abuse sent to him by victims, and allowed both the disgraced American cardinal Bernard Law, who covered-up such cases in his diocese, and the Mexican priest Marcial Maciel, a serial abuser, to escape justice by giving them sanctuary in the Vatican. Benedict XVI (2005-2013) did better – banning Maciel from taking services, but still not deporting him to face trial.
Yet to measure Francis against his pledge, soon after his election, to take “decisive action” quickly is to see him fail. The Commission for the Protection of Minors was his structural answer, established in 2014 as part of the Vatican bureaucracy, known as the curia. It even included on its board victims of clerical abuse. But one of them, Marie Collins from Ireland, first publicly criticised it for lacking sufficient funding in 2015, and then resigned in 2017, alleging that the continued presence of “men [at senior levels] in the Church who resist or hinder the work to protect children is just not acceptable.”
In 2023, she was followed by the highly regarded Jesuit priest Hans Zollner, who suggested the commission risked becoming an exercise in public relations.
Francis’s rhetoric on combatting clerical sexual abuse was certainly impressive. In 2018, in a letter to all Catholics, he acknowledged “the heart-wrenching pain of victims” which had been “long-ignored”. The next year he likened their suffering to child sacrifice in pagan rituals. But that tailed off latterly when he began to react defensively, telling a visiting group of safeguarding experts in September 2023 that abuse was a problem that isn’t restricted to the Catholic Church.
“The abuses that have affected the Church are but a pale reflection of a sad reality that involves all of humanity and to which the necessary attention is not paid,” he said. That is true up to a point, but there are also few bodies that claim moral authority to protect the vulnerable so strongly as churches.
And it is not just victims who were disappointed by Francis’s failure to match words with action. A report commissioned by the Catholic Bishops of England and Wales revealed a wider “crisis of faith” causing the pews to empty, while those still there felt they had “to keep their faith private” in their everyday lives, the very opposite of the gospel imperative to spread the Good News.
There are, of course, many reasons for a decline in church-going in developed societies since the mid 20th century. Francis’s legacy contains many attempts to tackle some of them, including putting more women in senior positions in the Church (though still refusing to ordain them) and undertaking a global exercise in asking Catholics their views.
Next to something so horrific as priests sexually abusing children, and other priests covering it up, however, all the good he did undeniably could struggle to cut through. The abuse scandal is the reason for lapsing that anecdotally comes up most. The English and Welsh bishops also acknowledged that it is also “constantly raised by non-Catholics who see it as proof of the failure of the Church to live up to what Christ called us to be”.
This broader damage to the Church’s reputation for answering to a higher set of God-given values has been gathering pace these past dozen years. There will be many issues in Pope Leo’s in-tray, but until the clerical sex abuse scandal is addressed with real vigour, as his old friend Fr William Lego has already gently reminded him, there will be more victims and the exodus from the pews in the West will continue.
Peter Stanford is a former editor of the Catholic Herald and a columnist in the Tablet