posted on: Thursday, June 07, 2012

By Lisa Ranghelli

Photo credit: www.bigstock.com

I have been watching the various efforts of the Vatican and U.S. Catholic Church leadership to crack down on what they perceive to be bad behavior. First, the U.S Conference of Catholic Bishops went on a witch hunt, grilling grantees of the Catholic Campaign for Human Development (CCHD) to determine who they were wrongly associating with as they strove to solve pressing issues facing low income communities. For example, Compañeros, a nonprofit that serves immigrants in Colorado, was defunded because it refused to leave an immigrant rights coalition that also includes a group advocating for same sex unions. Then the Vatican cracked down on the 80 percent of U.S. nuns that comprise the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, accusing them of promoting radical feminism and focusing on serving the poor and disenfranchised only, ignoring the Church’s fights against abortion and same sex marriage.

And all I can think is: these bishops are bullies. The Merriam-Webster definition of bully is “(1) to treat abusively; (2) to affect by means of force or coercion.” Bullying is “intentional aggressive behavior” often directed toward those perceived to be weaker or smaller. These bishops are using their power to intimidate individuals and organizations, plain and simple. And these are individuals and organizations seeking to do good in the world, and working really hard at it. Apparently the Vatican did not even meet with or engage in dialogue with the nuns before reaching its harsh conclusions and deciding that three American bishops would be assigned to completely reshape the organization. 

I was thrilled to learn this week that the nuns are fighting back. And they’ve got the backing of more than 52,000 Catholics. Lay Catholics also donated funds to Compañeros to help replace the CCHD grant, with the incentive of a $30,000 matching grant from the Gill Foundation. But who else is willing to stand with them against the bishops? The bullying literature and current approach to combating this insidious behavior focuses increasingly on the role of the bystander:

There are not just two, but three characters in this tragedy: the bully, the bullied and the bystander. There can be no bullying without bullies. But they cannot pull off their cruel deeds without the complicity of bystanders. These not-so-innocent bystanders are the supporting cast who aid and abet the bully through acts of omission and commission. They might stand idly by or look away. They might actively encourage the bully or join in and become one of a bunch of bullies. They might also be afraid to step in for fear of making things worse for the target—or of being the next target themselves.
 

Whatever the choice, there is a price to pay.
 

So here is my question: Where is philanthropy in all this? Many foundations seek social change and an end to economic inequality. They support many of the same goals and strategies pursued by the nuns and by grassroots groups funded by CCHD. The Gill Foundation decided not to be just a bystander. Will the rest of philanthropy step up too, or will it remain silent, while the bishops try to suffocate these important voices for justice? What will be the cost of philanthropy’s silence if the bishops succeed? 

I hope I am wrong, and that there are many other stories of philanthropy standing up to these fear and intimidation tactics. I’d love to hear them—if you know of any, please share them in the comments section.

Lisa Ranghelli is the director of NCRP’s Grantmaking for Community Impact Project.