Some labels dont
stick
By LESLIE WIRPSA
NCR Staff San Francisco
Archbishop William Levada deftly
handled a question about the reputation he has acquired in many church circles
for being a staunch conservative.
I think that labels ... are a plague, he said.
They immediately set the agenda on the basis of an already too polarized
and unproductive liberal/conservative secular model. The church is not an easy
fit for American society.
These could easily be lines to hide behind, spoken by a man with a
talent for media relations. Or they could mean Levada, like an increasing
number of his contemporaries, has been forced to crisscross some ideological
borders when confronting the reality of urban church life in the late 20th
Century.
Trying to find a straight line to describe the church in San
Francisco these days is like looking for a level ride on a cable car. What is
clear is that Levada, who took over a deeply troubled archdiocese, has
certainly defied, in some high-profile controversies, the conservative label he
wore when he arrived in this city in December 1995.
On the other hand, Levadas predecessor, Archbishop John R.
Quinn, had the reputation of being a scholar and leading theological liberal
among U.S. bishops but managed to anger large segments of the largely liberal
archdiocese. In a highly publicized speech at Oxford University in England in
1996, the former archbishop challenged Pope John Paul II, among other things,
to practice greater collegiality in his exercise of papal authority.
Quinn, however, had upset large numbers of Catholics here with his
management style, particularly when he closed a number of churches, gaining, in
the process, a reputation as an aloof and authoritarian administrator.
As put by a priest who worked under Quinn and who asked not to be
identified: I adore Quinn. He was a brilliant leader, a visionary, a man
of prayer, holy, intelligent. Quinn asked the big questions, he provided a
spirit, an energy. But, the priest added, He was not a manager. He
didnt like or enjoy or do administration well. He had all these
committees, delegations and his heart wasnt in it.
Meanwhile, Levada, who came into San Francisco with a reputation
for being an unyielding theological and social conservative, has managed to
draw praise from some unlikely quarters for his evenhanded approach to church
and social problems and for pastoral sensibilities and willingness to listen
and compromise. He was also able to find creative ways to reopen some of the
church buildings closed by Quinn.
By no means has Levada turned a liberal corner doctrinally. He
said he would entertain invitations to dialogue, but the possible effects of
any dialogue are apparent in his comments on the issue of womens
ordination. If I could help people understand why the church has the
teaching it does about ordination of women, I would be happy to sit down and
talk with people for hours. But thats a dialogue of the deaf
oftentimes.
Organizational skills
According to the Portland, Ore., archdiocesan newspaper, Levada
was chosen for San Francisco in part because of his organizational
skills, strong leadership and orthodox intelligence. In Portland, an
archdiocese known for its conservatism, Levada did the expected by campaigning
vehemently against euthanasia and bolstering antiabortion efforts.
But he also appointed the first laywoman chancellor in a U.S.
archdiocese and countered business leaders who criticized the U.S.
bishops economic pastoral. He reminded the faithful in Portland to keep
individual sin on par with social sin, then advocated for a higher minimum
wage, worker and immigrant rights and public housing for the poor.
Three years after taking the helm in San Francisco, Levada has
been criticized by some progressives for cutting off the agendas of gay
men and lesbians and vilified by some conservatives for betraying
the church. Levada is showing himself to be a complex leader working in a
complicated environment for a demanding institution.
He said one of the biggest challenges he faced from the start was
the medias focus in 1995 on embezzlement scandals that involved two
priests and the church closings. The two of those things kept the caldron
boiling in a way that was challenging. San Francisco is a very high energy
town, whereas Portland is very laid back. And Im a very high energy
person, so for me it was OK. I didnt mind stepping into this mix, seeing
what we could do, Levada told NCR in July.
Levada the pragmatist was open to finding non-parish uses for four
churches, avoiding their closing and sale: One became a shrine, another a
homeless shelter, a third houses a Chinese Catholic school, a fourth serves as
a Newman Center.
I thought Id show you the church that started all of
the problems in San Francisco, Patricia Cady told a visitor, approaching
Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church.
Cady and other area residents, politicians and business leaders
played instrumental roles in preventing the destruction of Our Lady of
Guadalupe and in facilitating the reopening of the Shrine of St. Francis.
No landmark has ever been demolished in San Francisco,
Cady said. And with the shrine and Guadalupe, we knew we didnt have
viable parishes, but we had important buildings.
A winning strategy
With this strategy in mind, members of the North Beach community
-- Catholics and others -- worked to have both buildings declared historic
landmarks. After a long struggle that Cady said involved elderly Catholic
Mexican ladies marching downtown to the cathedral on their grandsons
arms, Guadalupe was declared a historic site in 1994 and later renovated.
It now serves as a temporary home for a Chinese Catholic school, accommodating
the demographic changes of the 1990s.
There is a huge demographic shift occurring in terms of the
Asian population. They are a vital, wonderful part of our city, but most are
not Catholic, even though they attend our schools, because it is a great
education, and they have similar values, said George Wesolek, head of the
Archdiocesan Office of Public Policy and Social Concerns/Respect Life-Justice
and Peace. Wesolek also said that in the 1960s, 150,000 worshipers attended
Mass in 53 San Francisco parishes. Today, the same number of parishes serves
40,000 worshipers.
Cady said the shrine episode shaped her opinion of Levada:
We like Levada because he reopened our church, to be scrupulously honest.
He didnt come to destroy churches.
Reopening another church has provided a model program for caring
for homeless people. Shut for four years, the buildings and grounds of St.
Josephs Village -- formerly St. Josephs Church -- are under
conversion to serve as a shelter and resource site for homeless families and
single pregnant women. Managed by Catholic Charities and propped up in part by
city funding, the site now provides a home and a second chance for 36
residents, according to Director Jose Ruiz.
Services here include job training, psychological counseling,
child care, medical care and even temporary employment within the complex.
Catholic Charities San Francisco leases the structure from the
archdiocese for a dollar a year, which is contrary to standard policy under
which church agencies pay each other market prices.
With the stroke of a pen, [Levada] did that. Hes
pragmatic. And its a national model, said Catholic Charities CEO
Frank Burns. Its worth $200,000, so in 10 years, thats $2
million given to Catholic Charities for the homeless.
One archdiocesan official said with that pen stroke, Levada also
went against the will of some of the chancery planners.
Levada, meanwhile, carefully avoids any criticism of Quinn and
insists that archdiocesan finances were in the black when he took over. Levada
told NCR that the public scandal surrounding the embezzlements provided
a catalyst for him to improve financial management and oversight in
the archdiocese. As resources replenished, offices that had been forced to
merge -- such as ethnic ministry and evangelization or liturgy, religious
education and family life -- were re-established as separate entities.
Improving communications
Levada plans to improve communications through the establishment
of an archdiocesan pastoral council and the 1999 launching of a weekly
archdiocesan newspaper.
As some internal church caldrons began cooling, relations with the
larger San Francisco community were heating up. In 1997, Levadas skills
as a negotiator were severely tested when he took the church through the
thicket of civil rights and sexual politics in a city with a politically
powerful gay population.
In late 1996, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors passed an
ordinance requiring entities contracting with the city -- profit and nonprofit
alike -- to extend health insurance and other spousal benefits to registered
lesbian, gay or unmarried domestic partners, a category created
under a 1990 referendum. Levada requested that Catholic agencies be exempted
from the requirement, claiming it created a problem of conscience
regarding Catholic teachings on homosexual activity.
This requirement, Levada argued, amounted to
government coercion of a church to compromise its own beliefs about the
sacredness of marriage and seemed to violate the First Amendment protection
guaranteed to religion by our Constitution.
Levada threatened to take the city to court if an exemption or
means of compliance that does not violate our moral principles was
not found. Levadas position brought accusations from city officials that
the church, by requesting the exemption, was discriminating against access for
homosexuals to health benefits. Levada countered, claiming the citys plan
discriminated against blood relatives supported by and living in an
employees household.
At the center of the debate was San Francisco Catholic Charities,
with a work force that, according to CEO Frank Hudson, is approximately 30
percent gay. Catholic Charities of San Francisco is the largest provider of HIV
housing services of any city west of the Mississippi, and it depends on $10
million in city contracts to keep its array of programs running.
At risk -- if the dispute led to cancellation of contracts -- were
services not only for thousands of people with HIV and AIDS, but help for
homeless, elderly and poor people.
Toward universal health care
What ensued was a compromise that perhaps provides a model for
working toward universal health care. In short, Mayor Willie Brown, Levada and
four city supervisors negotiated terms that avoided sexual politics by raising
the issue of health care to a higher platform, in the words of
Catholic Charities Hudson. Any legally domiciled member of an
employees household -- an elderly aunt, a child under extended family
care, a gay partner, for example -- would be eligible for spousal equivalent
benefits.
Under this strategy, the church did not have to recognize gay
partnerships or same-sex marriages; Catholic Charities held on to city funding;
gay and lesbian partners as well as other people previously denied health care
benefits got them.
It was a middle-of-the-road compromise that did little to satisfy
the most ardent at either end of the spectrum. In the words of one newspaper
opinion piece, Levada allowed the church and other opponents of domestic
partnerships to avoid recognizing such unions altogether, leaving same-sex
couples back where they started -- in a society that does not give their
relationship the same standing that married heterosexuals have.
Those on the right, however, reprimanded him for blurring
the definition of spousal benefits, for recognizing a morally
deviant relationship and for legitimizing domestic partnership by
silently funding it, according to other news coverage.
Hudson said the solution really upset conservative
members of the church: They dont believe in universal health care.
It was a double whammy. But now Im in the position of heading an
organization with perhaps the most progressive health care benefits in the
USA.
Salvation Army officers, meanwhile, made a decision at the
national level to cancel $3.5 million in city contracts because of conflicts
with the organizations traditional interpretation of
scripture.
Sunshine Ordinance: next
challenge
A year later, the political waters between church and city
officials were roiled again when another law, known as the Sunshine Ordinance,
was proposed. The original draft of the ordinance stipulated that nonprofit
organizations receiving city funds would have to hold two open public meetings
a year, open their books -- funding sources included -- to public scrutiny and
allow open nominations to their boards of directors. Church officials decried
the measure as an invasion of the city and the secular into nonprofit
religious matters. Catholic Charities CEO Burns described the original
requirements as draconian.
City Supervisor Tom Ammiano, who is Catholic and gay, accused
Catholic Charities of playing two sets of cards -- a religious set when the
organization wanted privacy and a nonprofit set when it wanted city money.
They cant have it both ways, Ammiano told the San
Francisco Chronicle. When it comes to city regulations, they are a
religion. What the city is asking is very minimal. But if it violates their
religious creed, they dont have to take the money.
Levada asked Mayor Brown to veto the bill -- a request that was
denied -- and once again threatened to take legal action against the city on
the grounds of discrimination against religious freedom. Burns, meanwhile, met
with leaders from several other major religious charities to find a way to
modify the requirements. We never thought we could kill [the ordinance]
outright. But we tried to water it down. The final version is bad public
policy, but its something that can be lived with, Burns said.
The way things stand now, he said, nonprofits will still have to
hold two open board meetings, but their organizations will determine the
protocol. He said he did not share fears that such meetings could become forums
for issues like abortion or gay rights. Someone can always walk into the
cathedral and scream in the middle of Mass, if they want to, he said.
Open nominations to boards of directors must be allowed, and a
city committee will monitor whether those nominated by the public receive a
fair chance at appointments. Financial disclosure is required, but it is
limited to details no more extensive than requested by the Internal Revenue
Service, Burns said.
If this becomes intrusive, well go back to the city to
amend it again or well litigate, Burns said. But clearly,
that is not going to happen. We have a strong partnership with the city.
Besides, when youre getting that kind of funding, you should be asked to
put up with some grief.
National Catholic Reporter, October 23,
1998
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