Simple Suggestions for Mahony

Across the land, the Catholic Church is being forced to come clean about the sins of the fathers, and the Archdiocese of Los Angeles appears to be falling into line. But the million-dollar word there is “appears.”

As reported in The Times, Cardinal Roger Mahony recently dismissed as many as a dozen priests for allegations of sexual abuse. But local authorities said they hadn’t gotten any calls from church officials regarding those allegations.

A reasonable person might ask, What gives? Does the church consider itself to be above the law?

On Sunday, the archdiocese sent priests into pulpits to read a statement from Mahony. My hat is off to the author, whether it was Mahony himself, a team of lawyers or a high-priced flack, because it was a beautiful piece of work.

“Some press reports have implied that the archdiocese has not passed along information on suspicions of child abuse to the proper authorities,” said the statement, which went on and on about Mahony’s knowledge of the legal requirements to report sexual abuse.

But despite assurances that the archdiocese will not tolerate abuse, the statement brilliantly steered clear of saying whether anyone actually did call the police. We have the appearance of the diocese coming clean, but it was such a quick dunk, I’m not sure we can call it a baptism.

The question remains: Did they call police? And if not, why not?

I’d like to give you the church’s answers, which would be the fair thing to do, if not the Christian thing. But no answers are forthcoming. Archdiocesan officials did not return my calls. It’s possible they were busy siccing the cops on someone, but if so, why not admit that they’re finally playing hardball?

You’d think they’d have learned the cost of silence and denial by now, given the horrific pedophilia scandal in Boston, the humiliating resignation of a bishop in Florida and a payout to victims nationwide in the neighborhood of $1 billion.

Look, the new cathedral is set to open in Los Angeles this September. Wouldn’t it be smart to clean out the closet now? I know that if I’d donated hard-earned cash to the $200- million Rog Mahal, I’d like to be certain it was spent on kneelers and prayer books rather than molestation settlements.

While holding out faith that the archdiocese would return my calls, I talked to prosecutors George Palmer and Irene Wakabayashi in the L.A. County district attorney’s office, and here’s the way I figure it:

There are so many loopholes in child abuse laws, it wouldn’t be hard for the Catholic Church or another institution to hide behind a technicality and legally avoid calling the police in most cases.

If a claim of sex abuse is made during confession, for instance, the priest can keep it quiet because of clergy privilege. If the alleged crime occurred before 1987 but was reported afterward, the church doesn’t have to call the police because clergy, for reasons only the devil knows, essentially got a waiver prior to 1987.

If an adult walks into a church today and tells a priest he was molested as a boy, the priest doesn’t have to call the police, even if the abusive priest is still on the job. The law presumes the adult can call the police himself.

A member of the clergy only has to call the police, prosecutors told me, if a minor makes a complaint. But is there anyone out there who thinks a sexually abused child is going to march into the rectory or the principal’s office and file a complaint?

It’s as if the pope himself wrote these laws.

But let’s forget about legal requirements for a moment and talk about a higher authority. Isn’t there a moral obligation for the church to report anything and everything that might root out molesters before they abuse again?

“Of course there is, but they don’t do anything unless they’re made to do it,” says Mary Grant, who, as a teenager, was abused by an Orange County priest in the 1970s.

The priest was not canned despite a diocesan cash settlement with Grant. Only last year, after the priest confessed to me that he had had several relationships with consenting women, was he dumped as pastor of his church. He has since been sued for another alleged molestation that goes back to the 1970s.

In 1988, Mahony established a policy designed, in his words, “to do all that is humanly possible to prevent sexual abuse.... “

In his Sunday statement, he invoked that policy and vowed that his church “will not knowingly assign or retain a priest, deacon, religious, or layperson ... when such an individual is determined to have previously engaged in the sexual abuse of a minor.”

Well, given that the policy goes back 14 years, how is it that as many as a dozen accused molesters were still on the payroll? Did Mahony just now hear about them? And by the way, what exactly did these priests do?

The church has acknowledged six molestation complaints in the past five years alone, but it’s anyone’s guess what, if anything, became of those priests.

Are they still hearing confessions?

Some people in the church argue that Mahony has done more to crack down on bad priests than his predecessors.

I’m not sure how flattering a distinction that is, but there’s a simple way to restore some of the faith the church has burned.

First, he can level with parishioners and the public about what he knows and what he’s doing about it. Second, he can invite the police in and let them root through the files.

In my Catholic school days, I was taught there are no secrets on Judgment Day.

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Steve Lopez can be reached at steve.lopez@latimes.com.