On the side of the victims

Guardians of the abused or the abuser. Or in layman’s terms: whose side are you on? That challenge was laid down by Cardinal Daniel DiNardo, president of the United States Catholic bishops’ conference, in response to the Vatican’s move this week to shut down plans to confront the scandal of sexual abuse in the US.

Close to 20 years after claims of systemic abuse came to light, and the extent of the coverup, the wider Catholic Church remains reluctant to truly address its dark past and to allow itself to be judged by lay people.

Contrast that with efforts in New Zealand, which this week extended the scope of the inquiry into the abuse of children in state care to include churches and faith-based organisations.

The Anglican Church was one of many to seek that wider scrutiny. Even though, as Archbishop Philip Richardson acknowledges, ‘‘we are conscious that abuse has been perpetuated by agencies across our society, including the Church and its agencies’’.

Catholic Bishop of Auckland Patrick Dunn concurs. As president of the NZ Catholic bishops’ conference, he also welcomes the opportunity, as painful as it is likely to be, for victims of abuse to have their say, to ‘‘be believed’’.

The churches, or at least their New Zealand representatives, deserve praise for their support of the inquiry, as does the Government for widening the scope.

But challenges remain. One is the language used to frame what, for now, are described as ‘‘faith-based organisations’’ or ‘‘institutions’’. Advocates for the many survivors of abuse, and those who paid the highest price for its toll on life and sanity, seek clarity about what that means.

Many faith-based organisations and orphanages are closed, their staff long gone; other groups and bodies have an association with church groups but might not be described as ‘‘faith based’’; some churches run schools and religious institutions, while others are ‘‘state-integrated’’.

Those working on behalf of victims are referred to the inquiry’s lawyers for some clarity. That suggests terms of reference might be carefully calibrated in ways that, inevitably, leave some banging on the door without response.

What of accountability? One victim suggests the churches may see an opportunity to load their burden on to the government and, in the process, dilute the magnitude of their sinning and any compensation it might bring.

These are real concerns that must be acknowledged, but at least it is a conversation we are prepared to undertake. Despite the pain we know it will bring.

Churches and other institutions have for centuries built seemingly impenetrable walls around uncompromising authority and infallibility. For some, this represents the very fabric of ordered society; tearing it down, or even chipping away at its foundations, is therefore a desecration of core values around which communities have gathered for many centuries.

But as other movements have revealed, the time is up for the subjugation those walls allow, and the beastly acts they protect. The time is right for scrutiny and greater transparency.

In New Zealand, at least, we have made great strides to be on the right side of that wall. To be the guardian of the abused.

‘‘The churches, or at least their New Zealand representatives, deserve praise for their support of the inquiry, as does the Government for widening the scope.’’