More about Sister Jane

Since I first posted about Sister Jane, I have talked further with her legal personal representative and her family, and reached a point where I can tell more of her story and how her life affected mine.

Sister Jane was Jane Mary McDonald, a professed nun in the Order of the Sisters of the Holy Cross. She was born in 1951. She was from Manchester, New Hampshire. She joined the Order as a postulant in 1972 when she was 20. In 1975, she met Sister Jeanne Wilfort, who had been in leadership positions in Holy Cross in Edmonton. Sister Wilfort was involved in a movement called PRH (Personality in Human Relationships) originated in France by a priest, Father Andrew Rochais. She came to New Hamphire to give a presentation. Jane didn’t know it, but the presentation was an introductory PRH workshop, now remembered by the American PRH organization as part of its early history. Sister Wilfort was encouraging younger nuns to come to Edmonton to study her approach to living the professed Religious life. From my perspective, PRH seems to be a personal growth movement, perhaps a cult, operating on the fringes of Catholicism. Under the influence of Sister Wilfort and other leaders of the Order, it seems to have had an influence on the Sisters of the Holy Cross.
Sister Jane came to Canada in 1975 and spent a year in Edmonton. During that time Sister Wilfort was working within the Order to set up a new spiritual community under her leadership. While she was not able to open a separate Holy Cross house, she was able to organize support to set up a communal living arrangement under the name of Maissons du Croissance or Homes for Growth. Homes for Growth was supported by Holy Cross and the Oblate Fathers. It was supposed to be a spiritual community and a retreat center offering services to other clergy and spiritual seekers. The first Home for Growth was in Lorette, Manitoba. The program grew and opened more houses later. Sister Wilfort later developed her own programs and grew apart from the main PRH movement in Canada

Sister Jane came to Manitoba in 1978, and stayed here for the rest of her life. She was a resident of the Lorette commune for about a year. It was during that time that Jane had the sexual experiences with Sister Wilfort that I mentioned in my first post about Sister Jane. Since most of the Holy Cross sisters in Manitoba were connected to Homes for Growth, Sister Jane had a hard time ending her connection to it. Since most of the Holy Cross sisters in Manitoba admired and supported Sister Wilfort, Jane became estranged from her Order. She took a job with the Salvation Army at one of its shelters for a few years. She founded her drop-in, Chez Nous, in 1987 and worked there until she was diagnosed with breast cancer in January 2000. Through most of the year, Jane was under intensive treatment to manage her cancer. She went into remission in the fall.

Jane contacted the Superior General of Holy Cross in 1998 and 1999, and disclosed her experiences. The Superior did not take agree to take any steps to discipline Sister Wilfort or to assert any control over Homes for Growth.In December 2000, Sister Jane brought her story of sexual abuse and exclusion from her Order to James Weisgerber, the Archbishop of Winnipeg. He expressed concern about the direction the Homes for Growth movement had taken. He said had been concerned about PRH in Western Canada since his experiences with that movement as priest in Saskatchewan and as Bishop of Saskatoon. He listened to her respectfully and took her story seriously. He gave Jane financial support to make a trip to Ireland. But he said he had limited authority in Canon (Church) law to take action against Sister Wilfort for sexual abuse or to curtail the activities of Homes for Growth. He may have reported the matter to the authorities in the Vatican responsible for independent Religious Orders, because the Vatican appointed a retired Superior of the Grey Nuns of Montreal to visit Winnipeg and investigate the story. Jane never saw the report of that investigation.

By the spring of 2001, Jane was depressed and suicidal. She got help and started counselling with Cynthia Jordan, a psychologist, and Vicki Frankel, a social worker. After a few months of therapy, she began to consider leaving the Order, and seeking compensation for the sexual and emotional abuse she had experienced. That’s when I got into the story. I satisfied myself that Jane had been receiving good treatment from qualified, competent and ethical professionals, that her memory of abuse was genuine, and that the abuse had caused significant emotional harm. I started court proceedings but Sister Jane’s cancer came back before we had a hearing in Court, and she died in July, 2003.

I was uncomfortable that the Church’s designated episcopal authority had been unable to adjudicate Jane’s allegations against Sister Wilfort and Holy Cross internally in Canon law. I was uncomfortable with the way Holy Cross presented itself within the Church when it was questioned about how it was handling Jane’s claims. The Order and the lawyers for the Order treated Jane confrontationally in the legal proceedings, but defended their stance by blaming Jane for seeking civil justice and taking the matter to Court, and for not forgiving her abuser. Holy Cross treated Jane like any ordinary corporation treats a whistle-blower – it tried to discredit her within the Order and the Church while avoiding public discussion of the story. In another sense, she was treated worse than a whistle-blower because her willingness to take her grievance against Sister Wilfort, Holy Cross and Homes for Growth to Court was portrayed within the Church as an immoral attack on the Church itself and an abandonment of her religion. A whistle-blower loses past workplace associates. Jane lost spiritual sisters.
I have been left with questions about whether the Church’s Code of Canon law is adequate to secure the safety and financial security of clergy and professed religious who raise legitimate grievances against other members of the clergy. I have also been left with other questions about the meaning of religious freedom. The government and the public courts should not be attempting to regulate belief and theology, but the members of Churches and religious movements should be able to find justice within their religious institutions. It seems to me that the government has a fundamental role in securing the safety of members of churches and religious institutions from exploitation and abuse.

Working with Sister Jane led me to examine the way in which the Church responds to intellectual and emotional trends in the world. I am old enough to remember the excitement and fear that came from John XIII’s movement to open the windows, and to remember the debates about whether the Church had to become “relevant”.

Sister Jane caught the message of the politics of equality and reform through liberation theology and devoted herself to service to the poor.
Sister Wilfort caught the message that religion was an affective or emotional subjective experience. She used her power in the Order to create near-cult of self-actualization and personal growth. Her story illustrates the risk of corruption in locating religion in the affective realm of impulses and feelings – the risk in committing acts of self-gratification and abuse in God’s name.

The Church hierarchy has been much more harsh toward liberation theology than to cults and sects. Pope John Paul II, an old Cold Warrior, has been suspicious that liberation theology represented the penetration of Marxist teachings into the Church. At the same time, he is an advocate of bringing back traditional prayers and devotions that touch the feelings of the faithful. The Church has had a hard time teaching against affective New Age cults while it promotes tradition-based affective practices.

My anger and frustration over the Church’s response to Sister Jane’s story nearly led me out of the Church. My admiration for Jane’s honesty and devotion to her calling has helped me to stay.

Writing

My friend Randy has had an Internet presence for several years. He started with web pages which evolved into a blog. The idea of writing a blog myself has been growing for a while. The current tools for Web logs make it easy to publish. I enjoyed creative writing and writing essays as a student, and writing for sf fanzines. I always thought I would write but I always found excuses for not writing: too busy at work; too many jobs around the house; need to spend time with the kids; need to relax and read a book; fear it will compromise career choices in law; fear it will alienate business partners or clients; need to get over the latest crisis at work. Insecurity about my voice and my talent played a part, but depression and shame played a larger part. With depression and shame came a deep fear of self-disclosure and honesty.

Continue reading “Writing”

A few days of separation

Jan stayed for a couple of days after we gave Claire the divorce news on Wednesday. She moved out on Friday. Claire and I are discussing some of the basics – shopping, cooking, cleaning. This is a new and strange situation but we are trying to live with it.
Jan took one of the desktop computers with her. Claire had been using that for a lot of her writing and online work. I copied or moved all her files and favourites to the other desktop, and Claire has been able to get everything set up and working. We have to negotiate our computer access now.
I have kept up my riding and my time with my friends. My family are concerned and calling to help us me, Claire and n., as much as they can. I have been able to share the news with neighbours and to get some comments on housing issues, and support for staying in the neighbourhood.
N. called Thursday night and complained I had not called him this week. I reminded him that he had been late for our planned time on Monday and that I had told him that I would not be around this week. He was demanding models and things. I knew that his mom had bought him other stuff earlier in the day. I am not in a bidding war for his affection. I reminded him that I had been having a hard week, with other issues, and he hung up on me.
I dropped in onn. on Saturday morning and he gave me hell for dropping in. Since the worker in his room had not answered the phone when I called ahead, I had I had inferred he was having breakfast, and I was right – I found him in the dining room. He went on about how I didn’t listen to him or to his needs. I said I would call and make plans later. He called me Sat. evening and asked me to bring him some things that he already owns, and I can live with that.
Claire and I have been watching movies. We saw Kill Bill, Vol. I on DVD and we are going to catch Kill Bill Vol. II at a matinee today. Dinner is cooking in the crock pot.

Truthfulness

Last night Jan and I told Claire that we are going to be divorced after almost 21 years of marriage. Jan had made her decision quite a while ago. She told me over a month ago but she did not want to tell Claire. At that point, Claire had a few weeks of classes left, and exams, and the idea was to give her some peace to finish her first year of University. I agreed, for self-serving reasons.
I didn’t really think it would affect school. Claire has always succeeded in academic and intellectual matters in spite of struggles with her feelings. I don’t think that an immediate announcement and separation would have interfered with her routine and study habits. I agreed because I needed time to react to the news and to make decisions. I agreed because the news would be painful for Claire, and I was not strong enough to be present to face her pain at the time.
It was a relief to tell Claire, and to be able to move into the future. Claire has been shaken by the news. One part of her pain is that we fooled her and that she had not seen this coming. I think I felt the same way when Jan demanded the divorce a month ago.
This was not Claire’s fault. She is a victim of her parent’s struggles. She has been sacrificing herself to try to please and support both parents. I am looking forward to our new freedom.

Dispossessed

In looking at some old email in an archive folder, I recollected that I used to sign my email with quotations. For several months or years in the mid 90’s, I used a quote from The Dispossessed, (Harper & Row, 1974) by Ursula K. LeGuin:

It is the nature of idea to be communicated: written, spoken, done. The idea is like grass. It craves light, thrives on crossbreeding, grows better for being stepped on.

When I checked Randy’s blog, his entry for April 5/04 mentioned his sf fanzine, Winding Numbers. I wrote several articles for Winding Numbers, including a sercon (that was fannish talk for serious and constructive) or critical, literary review of The Dispossessed. LeGuin has remained one of my favourite writers, for her honesty and intellectualism. I also agree with some of Thomas M. Disch’s comments about LeGuin in his book The Dreams our Stuff is Made Of. Disch considers that LeGuin has been made into a feminist icon by literary critics, and that some of her ideas and themes have been appropriated and misrepresented by critics and imitators. Disch is not particularly enchanted with feminism and magical realism in fiction. His critique becomes sour around these matters of taste, and I part company with him while agreeing that LeGuin has become associated with superstitious lyricism.

Meeting Sister Jane

A little over two years ago, in the early months of 2002, I started a court proceeding for a woman who ran a drop-in center at Higgins and Main, in the very deepest, poorest, most alcohol and drug addled part of Winnipeg’s inner City core. (I am, by the way, a lawyer by day). Sister Jane was, at that time, 50 and had been a Catholic nun since she 20. She was living alone, without the support of her religious congregation, and she had terminal cancer.

She had been raised in New Hampshire and joined her congregation as a young woman just at the time that memberships in the Catholic Religious Orders was plummeting. Soon after she joined her Order, she accepted an invitation from a Canadian nun, a self-styled visionary reformer, to move to Edmonton and then to Winnipeg to be part of an innovative spiritual commune.

It didn’t work for Sister Jane. The project tried to fuse transformational psychology with Catholic spirituality. It became the leader’s personal project, and became whatever the leader wanted it to be. Jane found that her leader was controlling and grandiose. Jane swore in Affidavits that the leader introduced a purported therapy in which she initiated naked hugs which progressed to other sexual acts. Jane submitted sometimes but started to resist and react, which angered her leader, who disciplined her within the close confines of their communal life, and expelled her from the commune. She was then marginalized in her own Order because of her alienation from the leader and the rest of her Sisters who were connected to commune and the project.

Sister Jane had remained a member of her Order, but had started to live on her own. She received a little support to find a building and start a drop-in place but she had to recruit a board and to find funds for operating expenses and her own needs from a very early stage. She made friends, and her friends supported her and her ministry.

When she found that she had cancer, she sought some support from her superiors in the Order. In that process she described her personal experiences in the new movement, and she found that she was getting very little support. The Archbishop of Winnipeg listened to her and helped her personally with some other needs, but he did not intervene in the affairs of Jane’s autonomous Religious Order.

When I met Jane, her cancer was in remission and she was trying to understand if she could continue in that Religious Order, or if she had to leave. We started Court proceedings to recover compensation for the harm caused by illegal acts, her cancer came back in the winter of 2002-2003 and she died last summer. Her ministry was curtailed by her illness, and it closed for a while after she died. Her friends have been trying to revive it.
I visited her last spring, before her last hospitalization. Her ministry was based in an old three story bank building. The drop in was on the main floor and she lived in a suite on the upper floors. It was a small apartment, with a little chapel or prayer room. It was small oasis for her in a tough area of town and Jane lived with anxiety and fear.

When I had been discussing her evidence with her, I had tried to understand what she did at a drop-in. Did she provide a social service? Counselling? Teaching? Referrals to other agencies? Some kind of therapy? She explained it as living out the Church’s preferential option for the poor. I recognized that as an articulation of liberation theology, but I don’t think I started to understand it until later. What she did was to be present for people and to listen to them, providing them with a safety and respect. The theologian Rowan Williams, in his book Christ on Trial, How the Gospel Unsettled our Judgment
wrote:

God’s transcendence is in some sense present in and with those who do not have a voice, in and with those without power to affect their world, in and with those believed to have lost any right they might have had in the world. God is not with them because they are naturally virtuous, or because they are martyrs; he is simply there in the fact that they are ‘left over’ when the social and moral score is added up by the managers of social and moral behaviour.

What strikes me about Sister Jane’s work is that she was able to carry on while she herself was deeply wounded. I think I have only been able understand the value of her ministry as I have begun to experience my own pain and powerlessness over the events and the people in my life, and when I have needed to have people listen to me.

Last week a common friend of Jane’s and mine told me that Sister Jane had seen that I was going through some changes – as I certainly have been. I was simply moved to tears that she had the compassion to see me clearly while I thought I was helping her.

Sea of Flowers

I first heard the simile of the prairie as a sea of flowers used by Stan Rogers, the great Canadian singer and songwriter in his song, “Northwest Passage”. A few years ago, when I was involved in an Internet mailing list devoted to Canadian folk music, I tried to find out when it entered our literature. It seems to have been in the early 19th century when American settlers started to push west onto the plains of western Illinois. Like Stan Rogers, we need to reach into our imagination to see that scene today.
The tall grass prairie used to cover parts of the eastern Great Plains, including the fertile valley of the Red River as it runs into Lake Winnipeg. For centuries before the settlement of the prairies for agriculture, travellers arriving through the forests of the Canadian Shield and the sandy eskers at the edge of the Shield would have had a vista of miles of tall flowers and flowering grasses rippling in the wind like waves on the sea.
The prairie in its natural state was intimidating. The tall grasses could rise over a person’s head, and the grasses were hardy, coarse, prickly, cutting, stinging and infested with biting insects. The prairies might be swept, on a given day, by wind, rain, fire or snow, or flooded, or baked in the glare of the sun in a cloudless sky.
That’s where I live, and where I have lived for nearly 50 years. I live in Winnipeg, a large small city in the Red River Valley in Manitoba. My parents left Holland and crossed the ocean and half a continent to try to raise a family in this windy city built along three rivers, in a landscape that was once a sea of flowers. When I was a child, our family home was at the edge of a blue-collar area near the airport, which occupies the Northwest corner of the City. There were patches of prairie a short distance north of our house, and there were vacant lots full of grass and brush tall enough to make hiding places and imaginary battlefields.
The sea of flowers has long since been plowed over but it survives in small patches and in the imagination. That’s my home and my starting place for this blog.