How Would You or God Judge the Cardinal?
The Death of Cardinal Theodore McCarrick: A Catholic Reckoning
April 7, 2025
The recent passing of Cardinal Theodore McCarrick has stirred mixed emotions across the Catholic community and beyond, but surprisingly, Catholic media outlets have responded with muted coverage compared to secular platforms. In a thoughtful video reflection, Father Leo delves into the legacy of the disgraced cardinal, shedding light on the pain of survivors, the Church’s pursuit of accountability, and the complex layers of power and faith.
McCarrick, once a towering figure in the Church and a master fundraiser, was defrocked after a Vatican investigation confirmed decades of sexual abuse. His fall from grace was one of the most high-profile cases in the Church’s history, symbolizing a broader crisis of clerical abuse and institutional silence. Father Leo notes that many survivors and faithful Catholics are grappling with a spectrum of emotions—from rage and betrayal to an enduring sense of hope and commitment to reform.
In response to scandals like McCarrick’s, the Church has instituted new protocols, including rigorous psychological assessments and stricter oversight for clergy. Still, critics argue that deeper cultural shifts and more transparent accountability are essential to healing the wounds that remain.
Father Leo’s message offers both pastoral care and moral clarity. While he underscores the Catholic principles of forgiveness and the notion of purgatory, he is firm in advocating for justice and systemic change. His commentary reminds viewers that genuine reform requires facing painful truths and committing to real, lasting transformation within the Church.
As Catholics reflect on McCarrick’s legacy, the focus turns not only to the past but also to the urgent need to protect the future—especially the vulnerable.
Before his fall from grace, McCarrick was one of the most visible and active figures in the American Catholic Church. A polyglot fluent in four languages and well-versed in global affairs, McCarrick spent decades crisscrossing continents on behalf of the Vatican and Catholic Relief Services, as well as the U.S. government.
McCarrick’s travels took him to the rubble of natural disasters and to the halls of power, meeting world leaders like Fidel Castro and lobbying U.S. presidents on immigration and aid. In public, he presented as a charismatic centrist — firm on Catholic doctrine yet committed to progressive social advocacy.
Though McCarrick was nearing the standard retirement age, John Paul II in 2000 appointed him to be archbishop of Washington, where his diplomatic finesse and political connections made him a natural fit for the capital’s ecclesiastical helm. He quickly became a high-profile leader among the more than half a million Catholics in the archdiocese, which included large Spanish-speaking and African American communities.
McCarrick’s reputation as a public churchman grew during the early 2000s. He appeared regularly in the media, raised hundreds of millions for Catholic causes, opened a seminary, and ordained scores of new priests even amid declining vocations.
Seen as a bridge-builder, both politically and within the Church, McCarrick often positioned himself in the ideological center of an increasingly divided Catholic hierarchy. “If you stand in the middle, you can meet both sides,” McCarrick once said, invoking the Latin phrase in medio stat virtus — virtue stands in the middle.
Ironically, he also played a central role in the church’s response to the 2002 sexual abuse crisis. After consulting with the Vatican, McCarrick announced a “one strike and you’re out” policy for new abuse cases — a message that helped shape the U.S. bishops’ eventual zero-tolerance stance. At the time, McCarrick was seen as a trusted voice of reform.
Before his disgrace, McCarrick had become a roving elder statesman under Pope Francis, who brought him back into informal diplomatic roles after the more reserved pontificate of Benedict XVI.
Into his 80s, McCarrick remained remarkably active. He jetted to Sri Lanka after the 2004 tsunami, flew to New Orleans in 2005 after Hurricane Katrina, and made sensitive forays into China, Iran and the Central African Republic. He worked behind the scenes to promote interfaith dialogue and religious freedom in conflict zones.
In interviews, McCarrick downplayed his intellect and positioned himself as a man of action. He saw himself as someone who could connect people across ideological and religious divides, often at the personal request of Pope Francis. For many, McCarrick’s energy and idealism made his eventual downfall all the more painful. He embodied the contradiction of a man revered for his public service, while privately violating the very values he espoused.
In 2000, McCarrick was asked about an inquiry initiated by John Paul that confirmed he slept with seminarians. John Paul believed McCarrick’s handwritten denial that said, “I have made mistakes and may have sometimes lacked in prudence, but in the seventy years of my life I have never had sexual relations with any person, male or female, young or old, cleric or lay.”
In 2004, McCarrick, a frequent guest on NBC’s public affairs show “Meet the Press,:” was asked about a report on the causes of the sexual-abuse scandal. Then-host Tim Russert read to McCarrick from the report: “The inaction of those bishops who failed to protect their people from predators was also grievously sinful. Somehow, the ‘smoke of Satan’ was allowed to enter the Church, and as a result, the Church itself has been deeply wounded.”
Russert asked, “Do you disagree with any of that?”
McCarrick replied: “I think basically it is a good summary of what happened in the past. Basically, it demonstrates that the church is made of saints and sinners and sometimes the sinners find their way into the clergy. And, well, since we’re all sinners, we can see how that can happen.”
