Optimism: When Hope Springs Eternal

A decade after the priesthood scandal broke the hearts of many Catholics and the optimism of many priests, Fr. James Valladares reminded us all of the gift of Hope.

July 29, 2026 by Father Michael P. Orsi with an Introduction by Father Gordon MacRae

Introduction

As most of the readers of this blog know, I was sent to prison with a life sentence in 1994 after refusing multiple plea deal offers to plead guilty in exchange for a one-to-two-year prison sentence. I would have been released from prison over 30 years ago had I actually been guilty, or at least willing to pretend so. It is the way more than 90 percent of trials in the United States are resolved in court. Those who gain their sense of Law and Order from the popular TV show of the same name are oblivious to the reality of this. I used to also be oblivious to what is today called “The Trial Penalty,” the implied threat that if you do not plead guilty you will spend the rest of your life in prison.

The first decade of my life in prison was the most painful, but not the only one that was painful. All hope had gone out of my world. The Church had gone out of my world, and took the priesthood with it. By some unknown mercy, I was spared the loss of my priesthood. I was never dismissed from the clerical state, a factor that I clung to as I grasped for any semblance of hope. Toward the end of that first decade, around 2003-2004, it got even worse. What had been a crisis in Boston and New Hampshire exploded onto the national stage and became a cause célèbre for contingency lawyers by the hundreds and scam artists by the thousands to bilk the Church out of more than $4 billion dollars in settlement of claims that never even saw the inside of a court room or heard the gavel of a judge. I wrote of this trend most recently in “Ten Years After The Boston Globe Spotlight Prostituted Journalism.”

As the news footage and newsprint dominated the scandal, I heard from some brother priests of my Diocese, but what I heard was merely condemnation. My Bishop’s office spokesperson, a monsignor who years later would serve his own prison sentence for financial crimes, filled in all the blanks in the public narrative with content about me and the case against me, which was entirely contrived and untrue, and for which he thought with surety that I would never actually see. Further down that deep well of hopelessness, I was alone in my grief.

Around 2000 or so, a celebrated Pulitzer Prize-wining journalist stepped on to the national media stage after quietly performing a forensic analysis of the case against me and its motives and aftermath. Suddenly there was an explosion of hope within me that no matter the outcome, the truth would finally be told on the most potent national stage, The Wall Street Journal.

But then, on September 11, 2001 — in the least of the tragedies of that day — came news that the offices of The Wall Street Journal were destroyed as the Twin Towers in the World Trade Center fell in New York City. Any optimism I had left fell along with them. All the research and content, electronic and otherwise, that had been amassed by Dorothy Rabinowitz, a member of The Wall Street Journal Editorial Board, was demolished. In January of 2002 came word that we would have to start over. I was not certain that I could.

What was supposed to have been written around 2001 became postponed indefinitely. The corrupt monsignor in my Diocese, who wore a second hat as the head of an organization representing insurance companies that moderated settlements, continued his campaign of misinformation, inflating the file of record with falsehood. Then, finally, in 2005 the hammer fell. The Wall Street Journal published its first of several articles under the broad heading, “The Trials of Father MacRae.” Other publications, such as The Media Report, picked up that story and ran with it. Our “Monsignor” fell into silence. A few years later Cardinal Avery Dulles and Father Richard John Neuhaus, along with the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, urged me to write giving birth to Beyond These Stone Walls. My stifled optimism was undergoing a breakout appearance in my heart and soul.

Then the unthinkable happened. A priest and psychologist, a celebrated author in Australia, also took up this story in a magnificent book, Hope Springs Eternal in the Priestly Breast. Father James Valladares, PhD is one of the most courageous and honorable priests I know.

While I was busy writing in prison for a blog the audience of which I could not see, Father Valladares was in Australia reading every word. When his book was published in 2012, I learned with a shock that he had been taking copious notes about my sacrificial priesthood, and he filled a significant number of his pages and chapters with the thoughts of my heart which he revealed. I was stunned, and I knew instantly that all those years of hopelessness were dedicated to the exposition of truth that will long outlive both Father Valladares and me. He gave his book a most hopeful title:

Hope Springs Eternal in the Priestly Breast.

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Note from Father Gordon MacRae: This book is very special. It was not a gift to me, but to the priesthood. I recently wrote to Father Valladares about the status of his research and his book. He very generously gave me the entire book in electronic format so that we could publish his chapters one by one as an occasional post at Beyond These Stone Walls. And so we begin this week with the Foreword to Hope Springs Eternal in the Priestly Breast. The Foreword is brilliant. It was written by Father Michael P. Orsi, then of Ave Maria School of Law in Naples, Florida. It contains the most hope I have seen or heard in a very long time.

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Foreword by Reverend Michael P. Orsi, Ave Maria School of Law

The clergy abuse scandal has posed the greatest threat to the traditional understanding of the Catholic priesthood since the Protestant Reformation. Now, as then, the deadliest attacks are coming from within the Church. In an attempt to ameliorate a system that allowed a small minority of the clergy to violate children and the gross negligence of some bishops who recycled these predators, the American bishops instituted the Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People in 2002. It is, unfortunately, doing the Church more harm than good.

By adhering to the Charter’s provisions, the American hierarchy has unwittingly undermined the Church’s sacramental theology regarding Holy Orders and her ecclesiology, which depends on a priest’s relationship with his bishop. This breakdown has encouraged present-day Modernists, who believe the truth is culturally conditioned and that the Faith is based merely on sentimentality, to try to remake the Church according to their own lights. Intra-ecclesial groups like Future Church, Voice of the Faithful (VOTF), and the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests (SNAP) have subsequently formed, challenging the hierarchical nature of the Church, her infallible teaching on the male-only priesthood, and the Western tradition of priestly celibacy.

A major factor responsible for a large number of the sex abuse cases, according to the 2011 John Jay College of Criminology Report to the bishops, is attributed to the sexual confusion which reigned in society and the Church in the 1960s and 1970s. The teaching of moral relativism and the acceptance of popular psychological theories over traditional theological principles led to the excess of bad behavior during this period. No doubt bad thinking led to bad actions. The lesson is that orthodoxy is necessary for orthopraxis.

The Dallas Charter was a response to the deep regret felt by the bishops for the perverse crimes that had occurred against minors and a recognition that strong safeguards must be in place to protect them. But the remedies that they enacted were influenced by the secular solutions of lawyers and public relations experts, which compromised the Gospel. They do not reflect justice, charity, and forgiveness toward priests. Dangerous procedural measures, such as administrative leave, zero tolerance, and one-size-fits-all policy for accused priests and for punishing malefactors have lent themselves to violations of canonical due process and a mockery of time-tested principles of jurisprudence. This is especially evident when dioceses publish the names of defenseless deceased priests as sex abusers on their websites. But most egregious is the forced laicization imposed on those deemed to be guilty. This action clouds in the popular mind the permanency of the indelible character of Holy Orders conferred at ordination.

The present state of affairs has caused mistrust and fear in priest-bishop relationship. The collaboration of a priest with his bishop is vital since he participates in the bishop’s priesthood. Bishops, who are supposed to be fathers, brothers, and friends to their priests, have instead become mere managers with institutional damage control as their top priority. Many priests have dubbed this the Caiaphas Principle. A recent survey in an unpublished dissertation found that most priests do not believe that they can count on the support of their fellow priests in the event of a false accusation, presumably out of fear of retribution from their bishop or from victims’ advocacy groups. This too is extremely dangerous because priests of the diocese form a presbyterate in union with their bishop. It has devastating pastoral consequences.

“Credible evidence,” the nebulous standard used by diocesan review boards, has effectively made priests guilty until proven innocent. This has forced priests to shy away from human interactions, especially expressions of pastoral warmth and concern, which were the hallmarks of Jesus’s public ministry. Now a fatherly touch may be interpreted as a sexual advance or an act of kindness toward a young person misconstrued as “grooming.” As one priest so poignantly stated, “If I meet a woman, I’m having an affair; if I meet a man, I’m gay; and, God forbid, if I’m with a child, I’m an abuser.” In the current climate, any human action of a priest is suspect. Naturally, this has had a devastating toll on the effectiveness of the ordained ministry.

In Hope Springs Eternal in the Priestly Breast, Fr. James Valladares shows how justice and charity have been violated by some bishops in dealing with accused priests. He examines the pertinent canons that guide the Church’s justice system and finds that these are often ignored or wrongly applied. He provides true cases that highlight the injustice of the process and the agony of priests who have been subjected to the Charter’s draconian mandates.

The Church has incurred tremendous financial losses because of settlements rising from both legitimate and false claims. Her image has been marred by the secular media, which has taken advantage of the crisis. However, we often fail to understand how trivial these are in comparison to the damage done to the priesthood by the enactment of the Charter’s policies. This is the pressing issue that the bishops need to address.

The present scenario reported by Fr. Valladares is dark. Yet, he has surprisingly chosen a title for his book that speaks of hope. For sure, it is a hope based on Jesus’ words to his disciples, “I will be with you always.” Therefore, far from being pessimistic, Fr. Valladares presents the facts with confidence that “the truth will set us free.”

For his hard work, born out of a love for the priesthood and his brother-priests, Fr. James Valladares is to be commended.

Reverend Michael P. Orsi
Ave Maria School of Law
Naples, Florida
Fall 2011

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Related Links

Bogus Charges Against Priests Abound by Rev. Michael P. Orsi for the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights

David Clohessy Resigned SNAP in Alleged Kickback Scheme

Ten Years After The Boston Globe Spotlight Prostituted Journalism Years

Due Process for Accused Priests by Father Gordon MacRae for the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights

The Eucharistic Adoration Chapel established by Saint Maximilian Kolbe was inaugurated at the outbreak of World War II. It was restored as a Chapel of Adoration in September, 2018, the commemoration of the date that the war began. It is now part of the World Center of Prayer for Peace. The live internet feed of the Adoration Chapel at Niepokalanow — sponsored by EWTN — was established just a few weeks before we discovered it and began to include in at Beyond These Stone Walls. Click “Watch on YouTube” in the lower left corner to see how many people around the world are present there with you. The number appears below the symbol for EWTN.

Click or tap here to proceed to the Adoration Chapel.

The following is a translation from the Polish in the image above: “Eighth Star in the Crown of Mary Queen of Peace” “Chapel of Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament at Niepokalanow. World Center of Prayer for Peace.” “On September 1, 2018, the World Center of Prayer for Peace in Niepokalanow was opened. It would be difficult to find a more expressive reference to the need for constant prayer for peace than the anniversary of the outbreak of World War II.”

For the Catholic theology behind this image, visit my post, “The Ark of the Covenant and the Mother of God.”

Priesthood in the Real Presence and the Present Absence

A new Manual for Eucharistic Adoration from the Poor Clares and Saint Benedict Press has found a captive audience in Fr Gordon MacRae as he marks 34 years of priesthood.

June 1, 2016 by Fr. Gordon MacRae

“You have GOT to be joking!” That was my first reaction. In early April this year, I was summoned to a prison office to sign for “personal property.” I had no idea what it could be. I hadn’t ordered anything recently from the place where we in prison must purchase shoes, clothing, toiletries. So it had to be a book, but receiving books here also requires that I know in advance that the book is coming. I knew of nothing.

I signed for the mysterious item and returned to my cell where I sat down on a concrete stump — the same one I am typing upon at this moment. “You have GOT to be joking’” I said to myself as I perused the book in my hand and its cover letter. It was from Christian Tappe, Director of Marketing at Saint Benedict Press in Charlotte, North Carolina. The letter began:

“I am pleased to enclose this review copy of TAN Books’ Manual for Eucharistic Adoration… written by the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration. If you would like more information, or to schedule an interview…”

I was more bewildered than ever. It was the fourth time in the last year that a Catholic publisher has sent me a book to review on These Stone Walls. Are people actually reading TSW? But this particular book was a complete mystery. First off, I should not have received it at all. The shipment and cover letter were addressed to “Father” Gordon MacRae with no prison number (67546) as required on anything sent to me. In the ordinary course, either the use of a title or the absence of a number would cause the book to be rejected and returned to sender without my even knowing about it. But here it was, in my hand nonetheless.

My first impulse was to toss the book aside as useless, at least for me. My apologies to the Poor Clares who so lovingly wrote it, and to the publisher who so kindly sent it to me. I am a slow learner, so the nicely adorned book sat unopened in a corner of my cell for a month. I was simply too caught up in the glaring irony of it. There is no True Presence here to adore. There is only the present absence.

To make matters worse, and more mysterious, on the same day I received the Manual for Eucharistic Adoration  I learned from lawyers that we had lost yet another effort at appeal of my wrongful conviction and imprisonment. It took one full year for the First Circuit Court of Appeals to notify us that they will not review an earlier decision to dismiss my appeal with no hearing on its merits or evidence. This has made the road to justice ever steeper and more treacherous. I am told that others will be taking this up to write about it.

In the Nighttime

So it was in the dim and murky light of continued injustice that I tossed aside the good sisters’ book about Eucharistic Adoration, and shrugged it off. But appearances can be deceiving, and you never know what apparently “useless” thing might have a profound influence on your view of the world — not only the world you live in, but the world that lives in you. Who you are is in large part a collision of these two worlds, and a person of faith risks great loss if the interior life is forfeited to live only in that other, more calamitous world. We have to live in and with both worlds, and we have to keep them in balance.

One day recently, I saw a vocation ad in Our Sunday Visitor for a community of sisters. The ad described them as a “monastic, cloistered and contemplative community,” and then added, “Find us on Facebook!” That, to me, seemed a collision of two worlds, but it works if the sisters can reflect in the latter world the light that shines in the former.

On June 5th I mark thirty-four years of priesthood. Twenty-two of them have been in a place where presence before the Blessed Sacrament is unavailable and simply impossible. It can only be imagined. It has been a long time since I wrote of the power of the True Presence in a place where it seems absent. In 2010 I wrote a post entitled “The Sacrifice of the Mass” (Part I and Part II), and it seemed a pivotal point not only for These Stone Walls, but for my life as a priest in extraordinary circumstances.

The two-part post described the utter deprivation of something many readers simply took for granted in their world. For my first seven years in this prison, Mass was unavailable to me, and without it I found myself growing ever more distant from my life as a priest. That post described the extreme efforts it took to gain the ability to offer Mass, beginning with what I today call a “spiritual offering.”

It wasn’t what you might think. It was along the lines of a “Spiritual Communion,” and I got the idea from reading Father Walter Ciszek’s book, He Leadeth Me. During twenty years in a Siberian prison accused of being a Vatican spy, Father Ciszek could only imagine the Mass. Sitting in the pitch dark at night on his bunk, he began to recite The Roman Canon in his mind, and to imagine himself present before the Blessed Sacrament. After reading this, I began to do the same, and my post, “The Sacrifice of the Mass” evolved from that. After I wrote that two-part post, a TSW reader sent me a letter, an excerpt of which follows:

“I cannot imagine what sustains your identity as a priest in that prison. There is nothing in that environment that in any way supports your priesthood. You are not ever in the company of other priests. Your diocese and fellow priests have cast you off. You see yourself each day in the mirror wearing the uniform of a prisoner, and you know in your mind, heart and soul that there has been no justice in your being forced to wear this role.

“And yet when I read your writings, your priesthood is always at the forefront, the part of you that shines the brightest, that speaks the loudest, that sustains not only you but apparently many of those around you in that place. Can you explain, Father MacRae, what exactly allows you to retain a priestly identity?”

Come Be My Light

I do not have an answer for this. After I wrote my recent post, “Mother Teresa of Calcutta: Pentecost Illumines the Night,” some readers wrote in comments that they are moved by my faith. It is not so obvious. At least, it is not obvious to me. I struggle with faith on a daily basis, and I found a kindred spirit in Saint Mother Teresa when I learned that she struggled as well. The truth is that it was the Poor Clares’ Manual of Eucharistic Adoration that caused me to look more deeply into the faith life of soon-to-be Saint Mother Teresa. The Manual includes an admonition from her, and it was this quote that prompted me to write “Mother Teresa of Calcutta: Pentecost Illumines the Night.”

“The time you spend with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament is the best time you will spend on earth. Each moment that you spend with Jesus will deepen your union with Him and make your soul everlastingly more glorious and beautiful in heaven, and will help bring about everlasting peace on earth.”

Manual, p. 111

It was from writing that post that I fathomed the necessity of Eucharistic Adoration. It is not for us to be present to Him. It is for Him to be present to us in a way that “will deepen your union with Him.” That is the very purpose of the interior life, that other world that we must balance with our other foot in this world.

While writing my Pentecost post, I learned of the spiritual deprivation often experienced by Mother Teresa, but that deprivation never seemed able to diminish her commitment to serve the poor. Rather, the opposite happened. It was her service to the poor that brought her to the Paschal Mystery and kept her there, ever providing the beckoning of Christ that compelled her spiritual life. Mother Teresa sought union with Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, and brought Christ from there to the poor. It was never the other way around.

Eucharistic Adoration

So how could I, as a priest wrongly imprisoned for decades, possibly bring my interior life into this world where the True Presence is so overshadowed by the present absence? No matter what the source of the sense of emptiness is in your life, if you are reading this you know what I mean by “the present absence.” That is why God allowed Mother Teresa and others among our patron saints to suffer spiritual deprivation, and to endure it. It was so that we might emulate them as they serve as beacons in spiritual darkness. Their witness inspires hope in the dark, not just our rescue from it.

As has happened on so many nights in prison, I awoke one night recently, filled with an anxiety that has no name. It’s not related to anything I can identify. It’s just there, a natural side effect of the stifling nature of an American prison. I have a little battery-powered book light purchased from the same prison vendor from which we purchase clothing and other needs. Waking often in the night, I have gotten hundreds of times my money’s worth from that small light.

I switched on the light in that anxious night, and reached for my glasses and a book on a small shelf at the end of my iron bunk. I thought I had grabbed another book, but my hand landed on the previously untouched Manual for Eucharistic Adoration by the Poor Clares. It has a ribbon page marker so I opened to the ribbon and was struck by this admonition from Saint John Vianney, the Curé of Ars and the patron saint of priests:

“When you awake in the night, transport yourself quickly in spirit before the tabernacle, saying, ‘Behold, my God, I come to adore you, to praise, thank, and love you, and to keep you company with the angels.’”

Manual, p. 116

So that night I tried to imagine a time and a place in which being before the Blessed Sacrament was most meaningful to me. Sadly, it was long ago. It wasn’t during my years as a parish priest when time and again I passed by the sanctuary and tabernacle barely noticing, blindly going from one pastoral task to another, not even genuflecting, not even knowing that I failed to bring Christ with me because I failed to stop and enter into His Presence. At some point in my life as a priest, this world collided with that one, and demolished it. This has been the real priesthood scandal. Action somehow overshadowed contemplation to our priestly peril.

It was only years later, after year upon year of absence, that I became aware of this deprivation of the Presence of God. So in that night of prison anxiety my mind fled down the nights and down the days, past the parishes where I served, and the seminary I attended, to a Benedictine Abbey just twenty miles from this prison. The journey in my mind took me to 1977. I was a Capuchin then, attending school at Saint Anselm College, and my most special place on campus was a tiny alcove built into the Abbey Church.

There, before a magnificent granite tabernacle, I spent many hours in the Presence of the Lord. Last year, a reader found a photograph of the interior of the Saint Anselm Abbey Church and printed it for me. It is the opening graphic for this post. Then our Missionary of Mercy Friend, Father George David Byers, found a photo of the Blessed Sacrament alcove to the right of the main sanctuary. This is where I went back then, before the world shook lose the Holy Longing to be in His Presence. This is where I go now when I awaken in the night. Sometimes, now, I don’t think I awaken with anxiety and then go there. I think I now awaken just to go there.

In just a few months, These Stone Walls will mark seven years in publication, just one third the time that I have been in this prison. During that seven years, many readers have sent me letters and comments informing me that they have devoted an hour before the Blessed Sacrament to be in His Presence in my stead. You have bestowed upon me a most priceless gift, and for this I have much gratitude.

Now the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration, along with author Paul Thigpen and Saint Benedict Press, have provided a road map to the interior life, and a tool to converse with the Living Christ among us. I most highly recommend the Manual for Eucharistic Adoration and, if you are not there already, the restoration of the Lord’s Presence in your interior life.

I humbly thank you for thirty-four years of priesthood, even out here on the dark peripheries from which I write. Without you, I might have forgotten how to be a priest, and might today be just a prisoner. There are two kneelers before the Blessed Sacrament at Saint Anselm Abbey Church in Manchester, New Hampshire. Some night when anxiety awakens you in the dark, join me there. I’ll have the Manual for Eucharistic Adoration in my hands.