Controversial order opens new boarding school, Ultraconservative founder draws criticism and praise.

By JEFF PARROTT

 

South Bend Tribune
September 12, 2005
Picture caption:
Kevin McKenzie, left, and Gregory Heslip, Legionaries of Christ seminarians, speak about the order’s new “minor seminary” at Rolling Prairie for grades 7 through 12. Both men, now 23 and 24, say they first entered such schools at age 12 and 14.

 

ROLLING PRAIRIE — An ultraconservative and controversial Catholic group has opened a new boarding school for boys interested in the priesthood at the former Le Mans Academy.

The Legionaries of Christ is calling this “minor seminary” school, its third in the United States, Sacred Heart Apostolic School. It ultimately is to contain grades 7 through 12, but has begun this school year with a group of 18 boys in seventh and eighth grades. The school plans to add a grade level each year with an ultimate goal of 100 to 120 students, spokesman Jay Dunlap said.

The orthodox religious order, which claims 600 priests and 2,500 seminarians in 20 countries, has been embraced by conservative Catholics such as the late Pope John Paul II and actor/director Mel Gibson, whose movie, “The Passion of the Christ,” enraged many Jewish people over how they were portrayed.

But critics say the Legionaries of Christ recruits boys at too young an age for the priesthood, isolates them from their families and “brainwashes” them to follow its conservative doctrine, forbids members from criticizing their leaders, is ruthless in its fundraising, and, among other things, violates the confidentiality of confession by forcing seminarians to confess their sins to priests who also act as their superiors.

On top of those concerns are sexual abuse allegations from at least eight men — some of whom went on to become priests — against the congregation’s powerful founder, Rev. Marcial Maciel.The men, most of whom are Mexican, say Maciel molested them in the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s while they were seminarians.

The Legion’s sharpest critic is a group called the Religious Groups Awareness International Network which formed in 2003 as a communications outlet for men and women who have had bad experiences with the Legion or its lay movement, Regnum Christi. The network could contain up to 800 members, ReGAIN board member Glenn Favreau said.

Is there an investigation?

Favreau, 41, entered a Legion seminary at age 20 and by 33 was just a few months away from ordination as a priest when he quit. He is now a law student at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.

Favreau said he left partly because he came to realize that Maciel leads an opulent life, despite the vows of poverty Legionaries are supposed to take.

“I began to see less and less of Jesus Christ and more of power plays of individuals,” Favreau said.

As a seminarian, Favreau said he was not allowed much contact with his parents. Those who want to leave find it difficult, sometimes because they are convinced that if they leave they will go to hell, and sometimes because they have no money or resources, Favreau and other former Legion seminarians have said.

“They control people to the nth degree … they brainwash,” he said. “They really put a clamp on your conscience and everything in your conscience is managed and reported to a very small number of superiors.”

Dunlap, the Legion spokesman, categorically refuted ReGAIN’s accusations, and called the group a “vocal minority.”

“They’re people who were Legionaries for some time but they weren’t happy, and now they’ve chosen to be negative about it, which is sad,” Dunlap said.

“Time and time again we’ve had families send more than one son to our schools because they see they’re getting an excellent education and spiritual formation,” Dunlap said. “The vast majority of families that have had an experience with our schools speak very highly of them.”

Dunlap said the Legion has investigated ReGAIN’s complaints and found no evidence of their validity. And he said the Vatican conducted a thorough investigation in the late 1950s into the sexual abuse allegations against Maciel, and found they were unsubstantiated.

Dunlap referred to a statement issued in May by the Vatican’s Secretary of State, Cardinal Angelo Sodano, reportedly a longtime friend of Maciel’s, which said there was no longer an investigation and none was foreseen. The statement was picked up widely by news outlets worldwide.

However, the National Catholic Reporter published a story a few days later noting that it is the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, formerly headed by the man who is now Pope Benedict XVI, that has authority over such cases.

John Allen, who covers the Vatican for the National Catholic Reporter, told The Tribune that his sources, whom he does not name, say the investigation remains ongoing.

“The office that handles these cases has said nothing, but I and others have reported that they’re continuing their preliminary investigation,” Allen said.

More alleged victims came forward in 1994, after being angered when Pope John Paul II called Maciel an “efficacious guide to youth,” according to a National Catholic Reporter story.

Father Richard McBrien, a nationally known theology professor at the University of Notre Dame, believes the sexual abuse allegations are credible, based largely on his reading of a book detailing them, “Vows of Silence — The Abuse of Power in the Papacy of John Paul II,” by Catholic writers Jason Berry and Gerald Renner.

In a review on the book’s cover, McBrien calls the Legion “cultlike.”

“If he were a United States priest living here under the new guidelines adopted by the Conference of Bishops, he would be removed from ministry,” McBrien said of Maciel, 84, who founded the order in Mexico City in 1941 and stepped down as its leader last year. “It reflects on the whole congregation, of course it does. What kind of organization do we have here?”

Dunlap said McBrien is more likely to believe the allegations because he is a liberal who disagrees with the Legion’s conservative dogma.

McBrien also has a problem with recruiting boys for the priesthood at such a young age.

“I think it’s pretty bad,” he said. “If I were a parent, I wouldn’t let them do it.”

But Kevin McKenzie, a 23-year-old Legion seminarian who works on recruiting, said he knew at age 7 that he wanted to be a priest.

“I said, ‘Hey, I can do this and maybe this is what God wants me to be,'” he said. “It’s not like everyone who goes there becomes a priest, it’s just an environment where you can focus on whether you want to be a priest.”

Not welcome everywhere

Bishops in Minneapolis/St. Paul and Columbus, Ohio, have banned the Legion from operating in their areas, while another diocese, Baton Rouge, La., has expressed concerns.

In a November letter to his pastors and parish life administrators, St. Paul/Minneapolis Bishop Harry Flynn said neither the Legion nor its lay group, Regnum Christi, were to be active in any way in the archdiocese. Flynn wrote that pastors “continue to sense that a ‘parallel church’ is being encouraged, one that separates persons from the local parish and archdiocese, and creates competing structures. That is simply unacceptable.”

Fort Wayne/South Bend Bishop John D’Arcy declined to comment on the Legion.

Gary Diocese Bishop Dale Melczek, in whose diocese Rolling Prairie lies, gave the Legion his permission to open the school, but not to operate programs, raise money or recruit future seminarians in diocese parishes, said his spokesman, Father Brian Chadwick.

McBrien urged Melczek to make sure the Legion confines itself to running the school.

“My advice to him is to be careful,” McBrien said. “Keep a watch over them because these types of groups try to push the envelope and expand their influence in the diocese.”

While the Legion of Christ has drawn opposition from some bishops at the diocesan level, it has benefited from some strong support in the Vatican.

In November, Pope John Paul II granted the congregation authority to operate the Pontifical Institute, “Notre Dame of Jerusalem Center,” in Jerusalem. The complex, which includes a church, restaurants, a conference center and a hotel, acts as a welcome center for visiting clergy and Catholic individuals and families from around the world.

Also, the Congregation for Bishops has entrusted the Regina Apostolorum, the Legionaries of Christ university in Rome, with annual training sessions for newly appointed bishops from around the world, and Maciel was in the front row for the pope’s 2001 visit to Mexico, Allen said.

Dunlap noted that the Legion plays an active role in many dioceses, such as Atlanta, Detroit, Chicago and St. Louis.

“Places where the Legion is known and its institutions are set, we’re just part of the landscape,” Dunlap said.

Favreau, with ReGAIN, claims the Legion is losing so many seminarians that it needs to bolster recruiting by opening new minor seminaries, in addition to its ones in Center Harbor, N.H., and Colfax, Calif.

But Dunlap said the opposite is true.

“We wouldn’t be starting a school here if we were shrinking,” he said. “We’ve started a school here because our school in New Hampshire is bursting at the seams.”

Court Rules Against Legion of Christ Seminary

By LEN MANIACE

 

THE JOURNAL NEWS
(Original publication: August 4, 2005)
http://www.thejournalnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/
article?AID=/20050804/NEWS10/508040327/-1/spider
lmaniace@thejournalnews.com

 

MOUNT PLEASANT — A conservative Catholic organization’s operations at a former IBM facility in Mount Pleasant violate the town zoning code, a state appeals panel ruled in a decision this week.

Though the Legion of Christ described its operation as a training center and similar to the property’s use by IBM, the Appellate Division in Brooklyn ruled on Monday that the organization was running a private college on the 97-acre site off Columbus Avenue.

The court ruling deals with a current operation by the Legion of Christ and not Westchester University, a liberal arts college for 3,000 students that the organization has proposed for an adjacent 168-acre parcel that is now before town planners.

The ruling was a victory for Mount Pleasant officials, following a defeat in state Supreme Court in December 2003.

“They are operating a seminary on the site, with about 80 seminarians living there,” Mount Pleasant Supervisor Robert Meehan said. “The town learned of the decision yesterday.”

Reached for comment yesterday, Stuart Shamberg, an attorney with Shamberg, Marwell, Hocherman, Davis & Hollis in Mount Kisco, which is representing the Legion of Christ, said, “I’m sure there will be an appeal.”

In its ruling, the Appellate Division said the zoning code did not violate the federal Religious Land Use and Institutional Act of 2000, as the Legion of Christ had contended.

The land affected by the court ruling is zoned as an office corporate education district, Meehan said, to be used principally as office, conference and training facilities. The Westchester University site has a different zone.

Meehan said the town would need to carefully review a special permit request from the Legion of Christ to operate a seminary.

“The real use of that property should be what IBM had it as — a conference center. I’m not sure this would qualify for a special permit,” Meehan said. IBM sold the property in 1996.

Mount Pleasant and the Legion of Christ have battled over the granting of tax exemption for religious use for the site.

LC Opens New High School Seminary in Sacramento, CA

Priesthood prep: A conservative Catholic order teaches boys in Placer County

 

By Laurel Rosen

 

Sacramento Bee
Tuesday, February 3, 2004

 

Surrounded by tall pine trees and gentle mountain slopes, students at a boarding school near Colfax live as few teenagers do.

They do not watch television or movies. They do not listen to the radio, play video games or use the Internet.

When they listen to music, it is only classical. When they talk on the phone, it is only with their families.

Mostly, their days and nights are filled with study and prayer. These boys – who range in age from 12 to 16 – are preparing for the priesthood.

From a really young age, I just felt called to become a priest, said James Kuchar, 14.

As a 4-year-old, Kuchar said, he played make-believe Mass in his Boise, Idaho, home.

I would pretend I was a priest and my brothers and sisters were congregants and altar servers, he said.

Immaculate Conception Camp Del Oro opened last summer to 15 boys interested in becoming priests. It is one of about 10 high school seminaries around the country run by a variety of Catholic orders.

The seventh-through 12th-grade school in Colfax is run by the Legion of Christ, a Catholic order known for its strict observance of religious tradition. It is the order’s first school in the West and draws students from California, Oregon, Washington, Colorado and Idaho. It costs about $7,200 a year to attend.

The Legionaries operate a similar, but much larger, seminary high school in New Hampshire, as well as a graduate school of psychology in Virginia and 10 institutions of higher education in Latin America and Europe.

The order also has been in discussions with Sacramento city and county officials about opening a university here.

Sacramento Bishop William Weigand has welcomed the Legionaries to the region, which is a primary reason they established the apostolic school in Colfax, their spokesman said.

Membership in the order has grown steadily since it was established in Mexico in 1941 by the Rev. Marcial Maciel. Today, Legionary leaders say, about 70,000 people worldwide belong to Regnum Christi, the order’s lay movement; there are about 3,100 Legionary priests and seminarians.

The order, however, is not without its detractors. In the 1990s, several of Maciel’s former students accused him of sexual abuse in the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s. Maciel has denied the allegations, and Legionary officials say a Vatican investigation determined that he did nothing wrong. Maciel, 83, now heads the order from Rome.

While Legionaries say their schools offer outstanding academics and an environment of intense spiritual devotion, critics say the program is too regimented and controlling.

At the school in Colfax, the boys awaken in a communal sleeping room with 15 beds. They dress, taking uniforms from a communal clothes closet. Before breakfast, they go to morning Mass. Before each class and each meal, they say prayers.

Ben McCabe, 14, said he likes the school because it gives him the opportunity to foster a relationship with God.

I think He might be calling me, McCabe said. That’s why I’m here. This school is like a door and I’m here to see if I should go through that door.

In general, students at the Legionary schools said they come from highly observant Catholic families. Many have several siblings and were home-schooled before joining the Legion.

Three of Edward Kuchar’s nine children left Boise to attend the school in Colfax. He says the boys chose the path themselves, and he couldn’t be happier.

God is attracted to us and for some reason our kids are getting evangelized very young, Kuchar said. It’s God working in their life. It’s a stunning thing as a parent.

School leaders say the 240-acre Colfax campus is a work in progress.

A main building holds a kitchen, dining room, sleeping quarters and classrooms. Another building serves as a chapel. Motor homes scattered on the property provide shelter for visiting priests and brothers.

Eventually, officials hope to move the school closer to Sacramento and reserve the Colfax site for religious retreats.

Between prayer, study and hikes in the woods, the students do all the work it takes to keep the facility running, said the Rev. John Curran, who heads the Colfax campus. They sort laundry, set dining tables, wash dishes, mow lawns, clean bathrooms and paint fences. The school day is long and highly structured, and vacations are short – a few days after Christmas and a few weeks over the summer.

Students interviewed in Colfax say they don’t mind.

I’m willing to make the sacrifice for God because we don’t have long on this Earth, said Thomas Cauthorn, 14. I’d rather make the sacrifice and spend eternity with him.

But other students who have left the Legion’s other schools say the sacrifices the school demands of its students are unreasonable.

It’s very regimented, very secretive. As you progress, it becomes more secretive; you can’t criticize your superiors, said Todd Carpunky, 29, a bankruptcy lawyer in New York City.

Carpunky attended Immaculate Conception Apostolic School in Connecticut, went on to further training to become a priest, and then became a Legionary recruiter in Europe.

He described an environment at the schools where strict regulations dictated every aspect of life, including – as part of the training in etiquette – how to eat a banana with a fork and knife.

You can never just pick up a banana and eat it, Carpunky said.

The flow of news from the outside world was censored, Carpunky said, with newspapers arriving with whole entire sections cut out – even in the Catholic newspapers.

Carpunky left the Legion in 1996 after a dispute with Legionary leaders over his desire to seek medical care for a herniated disc in his back.

It was the best thing that ever happened to me, Carpunky said. But I was so scared at the time because they tell you if you leave you’re at risk of eternal damnation.

Training to become a Legionary priest is a demanding task, Curran said, and requires a lifestyle that does not suit everyone. The school teaches table manners and grooming in an effort to prepare the boys for whomever they might meet when they leave, Curran said. Exposure to the media is controlled so that the boys don’t encounter any inappropriate influences, he said, and contact with friends is limited to help the boys foster their friendship with Jesus Christ.

If they’re called to be a priest, they take a vow of obedience, poverty and chastity. We live our vows very strongly, Curran said. If a boy has a problem with that, then it’s a way for him to see that he isn’t called here.

Yet, enough people have found such practices so stifling that they have left the order and share their experiences on Web sites such as http://www.regainnetwork.org or http://www.exlegionaries.com. The Legion of Christ has responded with http://www.legionaryfacts.org to counter its critics’ claims.

One defining characteristic of the Legion of Christ is the strict prohibition of gossip, said Jay Dunlap, the order’s North American spokesman.

People are attracted by our emphasis on charity, even in every word you speak or write. We never use words to slander or attack, he said.

But Andrew Boyd, 20, another former Legionary who attended the apostolic school after it moved to New Hampshire, said the no-gossip rule creates an environment where people can’t fully express themselves.

The Legion’s emphasis on communal living was too much to bear, Boyd said, and he felt manipulated by superiors who read his mail.

If they can control any information that comes to you, nobody is going to come in and convince you to leave that life, Boyd said.

Boyd left after a year, feeling that he had been tricked into a life he did not sign up for.

Of course they don’t tell people straight up, ‘Do you want to come to our seminary? We read your mail.?

Boyd went into a diocesan seminary, where, he said, he was allowed privacy and his mail was not read. He now studies history at the University of Central Florida, where he is involved with the Catholic Campus Ministry and Army ROTC.

Dunlap and Curran said that opening student mail is an ancient practice in many Catholic schools preparing boys for the priesthood. It cultivates the spirit of openness and honesty that’s necessary in a communal religious environment, they said.

Sometimes there could be news in a letter that could really rock a kid, Curran said, adding that it’s important that school leaders know what’s going on at home so they can respond to the child’s needs.

The parents expect it, and want it. They know that’s the way this life is, he said.

Upon hearing about a year ago that the Legion of Christ was planning a university in Sacramento, Boyd said, he wrote to Bishop Weigand to warn him about them. The bishop responded with a note, Boyd said, stating that he had had only good experiences with the order.

That view was supported by the Rev. Charles McDermott, an official with the Sacramento Diocese, who said in an interview that the Legion of Christ is simply a conservative form of Catholicism.

The Catholic Church has broad boundaries, McDermott said. We believe what St. John the Evangelist said that Jesus said: ‘In my father’s house, there are many mansions.’ There is room for people to be more liberal or more conservative, without ceasing to be Catholic.

About the Writer
—————————

The Bee’s Laurel Rosen can be reached at (916) 773-7631 or lrosen@sacbee.com.

 

The kids are back at school and to hell with the consequences: Virgen del Bosque school outskirts Madrid, Spain

Madrid parents protest LC school takeover

 

By Giles Tremlett

 

The Guardian/September 20, 2003

 

Madrid — We have been freewheeling through the park on the bike again this week, one boy on the crossbar and the other in the kiddy seat, slaloming through parents, kids and dogs on our way to school.

It is the end of a hard slog of a summer. The holidays started on June 20 and ended on Monday. That is 12 weeks, or nigh on a quarter of the year. Try organising your life around that, especially when the Madrid oven is turned up to maximum and temperatures outside are going over 40C (104F) .

On Monday the kids may have looked a bit glum, but the parents were giving high fives. A Madrid child’s life, you might think, is golden. There are hours of freedom, of loving parental attention and family cosiness.

But there is a more worrying cost. Spanish children spend, at least in secondary education, 559 hours a year at school. The EU average is 678 hours. Doing the maths, I discover that my kids will have had a full year less of education by the time they reach 18 than the average European child. They will, according to one study, have had two years less than German, Belgian, Scottish or Dutch kids.

My kids are at a mega-school. Fourteen hundred pupils are spread over two buildings. Entry is at three and exit is at 18 (or later if, as Spanish kids sometimes do, you are made to repeat a year). They go in unable to wipe their own bums and come out, if those lounging on the benches along Paseo John Lennon are typical, as expert joint rollers.

It is also a concertado school, roughly equivalent to a grant-maintained grammar, owned by a progressive charity, funded by the state and topped up with cash from the parents. The majority of concertados are run by religious communities. Ours, however, is a radically secular school. Children at the religious schools have to say their prayers. Ours have obligatory anti-war demonstrations.

The concertado system is either a good way for the state to control private – especially religious – schools or a tax-funded cop-out for middle-class parents who do not trust the state system.

It is not without its risks, as the parents of the Virgen del Bosque school on the outskirts of Madrid discovered this week. Four days after the start of term they found they had a new headteacher who informed them the teachers’ cooperative which owned the school had sold out.

The buyers were the Legionaries of Christ, a radical, Mexico-based Catholic group that makes the fearsomely conservative Opus Dei, another accumulator of Madrid schools, look wet.

The liberal, secular charter is to be rewritten. “Hopefully the boys and girls who study with us will end up marrying because that would mean there would be fewer divorces and separations,” the head declared.

The parents are outraged. But have they started withdrawing their children? No. It is too late to start looking for a school place now. But, I suspect, another emotion is at play. By the time the holidays are over Madrid parents have gone slightly mad. They no longer care whether their headteacher is a self-proclaimed servant of God, or has a trident and horns.

 

Catholics plan Mather university

The Legion of Christ, a Roman Catholic congregation of priests active in 20 countries, plans to create a private Catholic university at two locations in the Sacramento region.

The proposal, which they’d call the University of Sacramento, is the latest of several higher education ventures to target the capital area.

The group plans to open a graduate school of education by 2005, followed by a 250-acre, full-service residential campus in 2007 that would ultimately have 7,000 students plus 800 faculty members and other employees. A feasibility study for a bioethics institute is also under way.

The Legion is talking with Sacramento county and city officials about buying land to build the campus at Mather Field, and leasing at least 55,000 square feet in downtown or midtown Sacramento for a graduate school of education.

The project is so enticing that officials here are mulling special efforts on a real estate deal to land the school.

The first full Legion university slated for the United States, the project could be a $1.2 billion economic bonanza for the area. Construction alone is expected to cost upwards of $350 million, with ripple effects of a large local payroll and spending in the community by faculty, staff and students.

The Legion raises about $20 million a year to cover its programs. It would also seek to raise money locally.

Area is rich in Catholics: “It is a massive project. We’ve been talking to the Legion for some months now and hope they can build the campus at Mather,” said county economic development director Paul Hahn. “It’s a good use the community needs. From an economic standpoint, we lack a private university and the array of talent it attracts.”

The Legion is looking for a break on the land in exchange, Hahn said. “We need to put together the deal points. It’s no mystery the county is very interested and willing to do some things we haven’t done for a while.”

The pitch is one of three private university proposals to surface in recent months.

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