The Diocese’s History of Handling Claims of Child Sex Abuse by Clerics
In the context of all Illinois dioceses, the Diocese of Joliet has been ahead of the curve in installing policies and procedures to respond to and prevent clerical child sex abuse. Even so, the diocese has demonstrated slavish adherence to off-the-books, unwritten policies that derail justice for abuse survivors and much-needed institutional transparency. The diocese also has a distressing history of allowing extern priests (those incardinated in another diocese) and religious order priests to minister in the diocese despite knowing that the priests have sexually abused children in the past. Some were even convicted of child sex abuse, yet the diocese welcomed them and allowed them to minister without protecting children from them.
Like all Catholic dioceses, the diocese’s aptitude in protecting children, investigating abuse allegations, and achieving justice is largely dependent on its bishop’s leadership, as he has ultimate, unilateral authority in every aspect of the process. In the case of the Diocese of Joliet, this concentration of power proved disastrous during the tenure of Bishop Imesch. Under Imesch, the diocese covered up abuse committed by Joliet priests by shipping them off to new parishes without relaying their history of abuse. When these failures came to light in 2002 and its aftermath, Imesch caused further harm by casting blame on others and mistreating abuse survivors.
The diocese made early efforts to address clerical sex abuse of children, but believes it is a problem of the past that does not warrant ongoing attention.
The diocese was on the forefront of adopting measures widely used today to investigate, prevent, and remedy child sex abuse by clerics. Such measures enacted by the diocese include adopting written policies, establishing a review board to investigate and advise the bishop on abuse allegations, publishing a list of diocese clerics credibly accused of abusing children, and offering survivors monetary settlements as well as therapeutic and spiritual services. The diocese implemented all of these policies on its own accord before the Attorney General launched an investigation.
The diocese installed its first written child sex abuse policies in 1990, well before some other dioceses in Illinois. To date, the diocese has amended those policies five times: in 1993, 1997, 2003, 2008, and 2013. The diocese reported in 2004 that there had been over 100 credible allegations of sexual misconduct by diocesan and religious order clerics who resided within the diocese between 1949 and 2004. Since 2003, the diocese has employed a victims assistance coordinator “to coordinate assistance for the immediate pastoral care of persons who claim to have been sexually abused when they were minors or as vulnerable adults by clergy[.]” Such pastoral care includes providing survivors information about counseling and inviting survivors to meet with the bishop.
According to the diocese’s website, it formerly “struggled with the impact of clergy sexual abuse crisis, which gained national attention in 2002, and the effects of which continued to be felt in the [] years following.” The use of the past tense and attempt to cabin the crisis into a discrete earlier time period represent the diocese’s seeming overarching view that clerics sexually abusing children is an issue of the past that does not require continuous effort or attention. The diocese appears to want those impacted to move on without further discussion or recognition of ongoing trauma and systemic failures, opting instead to rest on its laurels as a pioneer in this arena. But resistance to growth and a defensive posture have unnecessarily prolonged an already tragic history of abuse and re-traumatized survivors.
For instance, despite increased public awareness of child sex abuse and activism promoting transparency in the Catholic church’s response to abuse allegations, in recent years the diocese has instilled in its bishop even more unilateral power than prior policies. The 2013 policies added the requirement that the bishop initially assess an abuse allegation before the review board begins its investigation. If the bishop determines, after “consultation with others, that there is a semblance of truth to the allegation, and that it is not manifestly false or frivolous,” only then can the assessment process begin. As a result, the bishop can single-handedly quash any independent review of an allegation before even the most basic investigation.
The diocese adheres to unwritten, arbitrary policies in response to allegations of child sex abuse by a priest.
Beyond its publicly assessable written policies, the diocese adheres to unwritten rules for survivors reporting abuse that stall investigations and prevent the review board from making findings. For example, when one survivor summoned the strength to submit to an interview by the diocese about their allegations in 1991, Bishop Imesch refused to have the survivor interviewed until the survivor’s therapist consented to the interview, even though the diocese had no such written policy. When this survivor refused, the diocese stopped its investigation, was unable to make a credibility finding about the survivor’s abuse allegations, and took no action against the alleged abuser.
In a different instance, the review board seemingly invented a requirement that it see one survivor’s mental health records in order to avoid making a credibility finding. In that case, the review board requested in 2007 that a survivor reporting abuse release his mental health records to the board despite no established policy for such an intrusive request. Internal communications show that from the start, the review board felt the allegation “did not merit pursuit” and “that the [review board] as a whole was not pursuing it with enthusiasm.” Instead of considering the allegation with an open mind, the review board focused on building a record to appear as though they did their due diligence but were obstructed by the survivor. A review board member wrote of the need to “have on record [that] we not only received his allegation, but did follow-up to the point of his refusal to furnish the [board] with records it felt necessary to determine his credibility. My goal would be to table further action until [the survivor] complied and have that in our minutes.” After months of communication with the diocese, the survivor refused to provide his mental health records and the review board concluded that it was “not able to proceed any further with [the] allegation,” determining the result of the investigation was “inconclusive.” As a result, the diocese took no action against the accused.
In the case of Father Donald Pock, the diocese bypassed the procedures of the review board entirely. Bishop Imesch added Pock to the diocese’s list of credibly accused priests in April 2006 despite no documentation that any allegation against Pock was presented to the review board, as required under diocesan procedures. As far as can be determined from existing documents, Imesch simply decided to believe a survivor and bypass the review board process without documenting or justifying his decision. The handling of the Pock claim underscores the unchecked power vested in the bishop of the Diocese of Joliet, under which the mere stroke of the bishop’s pen can override written policies and procedures.
The diocese’s current approach to abuse allegations against a religious order priest who ministered in the diocese are particularly opaque and ill formed. When allegations of abuse are made against such an order priest, the diocese does not investigate or present them to the review board, but rather forwards them to the priest’s order. The diocese will only add a religious order priest to its list of credibly accused child sex abusers if the order itself finds allegations credible and publicly discloses the priest. This policy is problematic in practice for several reasons. First, the diocese has bound itself to any action, or more often inaction, by the religious order in response to abuse allegations. An order can easily do nothing upon receiving abuse allegations against one of its priests from the diocese. Second, not all religious orders publish a list of credibly accused priests. Therefore, when a religious order finds allegations credible but chooses not to publish a list, the diocese will not add the abuser to its public list despite the credibility finding. Third, sometimes a religious order will find allegations credible but wait years to add the abuser to its list, preventing timely disclosure of an abuser and delaying transparency and justice. Fourth, some religious orders have neither the expertise for internal investigations nor financial wherewithal to hire qualified outside investigators. In that event, the diocese’s policy leaves the “investigation” in very uncertain waters.
These problems came into stark relief in the case of Father Joseph (Salvatore) Mika, a Franciscan Friar of the Assumption B.V.M. Province who ministered in the Diocese of Joliet. According to documents produced to the diocese by the Franciscans, Mika admitted to the Franciscans that he sexually abused a child. Despite the confession of guilt, the diocese continues to refuse to disclose Mika as an abuser on its list because the Franciscans’ review board never formally considered his case and has not publicly disclosed him as credibly accused. Thus, the diocese knows of an admitted abuser who ministered within its boundaries, yet will not publicly acknowledge him as a substantiated child sex abuser.
Diocese bishops made the diocese a haven for extern and religious order priests who were known child sex abusers.
As gatekeeper and shepherd of a diocese, a bishop is the ultimate authority in deciding whether to allow any extern or religious order priest to minister in their diocese. Diocese of Joliet bishops, Bishop Imesch in particular, failed to protect some of the most vulnerable in their flock—children—from known and often even convicted child sex abusers on several occasions by giving these abusers the green light to minister in the diocese.
When these errors came to light years later, the diocese often rejected opportunities for transparency and healing, refusing to publicly list extern or religious order priests who had ministered in the diocese and had been convicted or otherwise substantiated as a child sex abuser. With but one exception, the diocese did not make such disclosures until 2019 in response to the Attorney General’s investigation. In some cases, clear evidence that an extern or religious order priest sexually abused a child was sitting in the diocese’s files, but it took Attorney General investigators pointing it out in order for the diocese to publicly disclose the priest.
Historic I & M Canal - Aux Sable, Illinois
Prior to the Attorney General’s investigation, the diocese disclosed only one extern priest as a credibly accused abuser who ministered in the diocese, and zero religious order priests as such. Today, the diocese’s list contains 13 extern or religious order priests, but omits 4 such priests whom the diocese knows have been credibly accused of child sex abuse. The chart below lists all extern or religious order priests who are credibly accused of sexually abusing children and ministered in the diocese.
Name of Credibly Accused Religious Order or Extern Priest Who Ministered in Diocese of Joliet |
Date Disclosed by Diocese as Credibly Accused |
John Beatty, C.S.V. |
2/9/2021 |
Gary Berthiaume, Diocese of Cleveland |
12/13/2019 |
Robert Boley, O.Carm. |
1/20/2021 |
John Burke, C.S.V. |
Not yet disclosed |
Lawrence Dudink, S.V.D. |
Not yet disclosed |
William Graham, Diocese of Duluth |
12/13/2019 |
Joseph Jablonski, M.S.C. |
2/17/2021 |
James Janssen, Diocese of Davenport |
12/13/2019 |
John Knoernschild, O.Carm. |
1/20/2021 |
Kevin (Dennis Kevin) McBrien, O.Carm. |
2/9/2021 |
Joseph (Salvatore) Mika, O.F.M. |
Not yet disclosed |
Samuel Pusateri, O.S.B. |
12/13/2019 |
James Rapp, O.S.F.S. |
12/13/2019 |
Louis Rogge, O.Carm. |
2/9/2021 |
Jeffrey Salwach, O.F.M. |
Not yet disclosed |
Michael (Matthew) Sprouffske, O.Carm. |
2/9/2021 |
William Wert, O.Carm. |
2/9/2021 |
As much as the Diocese of Joliet wants to paint child sex abuse by clerics as a remedied problem of the past, its community is still suffering from wrongs committed during the tenure of Bishop Imesch. Imesch orchestrated systemic cover-up of child sex abuse and squandered the opportunity in 2002 to rise to the moment and reckon with his diocese’s history of child sex abuse by clerics.
Mazonia-Braidwood State Fish and Wildlife Area, Northern Illinois
Imesch engaged in a pattern of keeping cleric abusers in circulation in the diocese without restriction. He testified as follows in a 2005 deposition:
Q: It is correct to say that you knowingly continued priests in ministry until the [Dallas] charter required their removal and you knew that credible allegations had been made against those clergymen, correct?
A: Yes. Yes.
Two examples of this practice are Father Fred Lenczycki and Father J. Anthony Meis, both diocesan priests in the Diocese of Joliet.
Lenczycki was accused of molesting at least nine altar boys in the early 1980s at Saint Isaac Jogues in Hinsdale. Diocesan files, including letters from Lenczycki himself disclosing his “sexually act[ing] out” and “abuse [of] people” to Imesch, evidence that Imesch was aware in early 1985 that Lenczycki had been accused of child sex abuse. Imesch did not appear to report the allegations to law enforcement. Instead, he sent Lenczycki to receive therapy at a church-run treatment facility in California, from which Lenczycki thanked Imesch profusely in letters for “all you’ve done to help me—including your sending me here.” In early 1986, Imesch recommended Lenczycki for assignment to the archbishop of San Francisco, without any apparent disclosure of his dangerous history, explaining that Lenczycki was “an excellent priest, effective preacher and has a good rapport with people.” In 1992, Lenczycki moved to a parish in St. Louis, Missouri, where the pastor did not know of his past as an abuser. In a letter to the archbishop of St. Louis, Imesch recommended Lenczycki be granted full privileges as a priest and said there was nothing questionable on his record. Lenczycki lived and worked in St. Louis for a decade before church officials there learned in 2002 of his past child sex abuse allegations and demanded that Imesch recall him. After the Archdiocese of St. Louis stated publicly that Imesch had not disclosed Lenczycki’s history, Imesch complained to the archdiocese that its “very disturbing” announcement had “created a very difficult situation for me.” Not mentioning the safety and wellbeing of the children of St. Louis, Imesch’s concern was any disgrace cast on him. Lenczycki eventually admitted to abusing as many as 30 children during his 25 years of unrestricted ministry in the Diocese of Joliet and in California and Missouri. He received a 5-year prison sentence in 2004 for sexually abusing three children in Hinsdale, and a 10-year prison sentence in 2019 for sexually abusing two children in Missouri. In 2008, Lenczycki was the first priest in the United States found by a jury to be a sexually violent person when a DuPage County jury returned its verdict.
As for Anthony Meis, Imesch allowed him to retire quietly from Saints Mary & Joseph in Chebanse in 1993 after a survivor reported abuse to the diocese and Meis admitted his guilt to Imesch. Meis spent time in therapy, and then in 1994 relocated to minister in St. Louis, with Imesch's recommendation. St. Louis church officials removed him from unrestricted ministry eight years later in 2002 upon learning that he was a child sex abuser.
Bishop Imesch treated public outcry and pain during the post-2002 reckoning with the clerical child sex abuse crisis as affronts to him personally, deflected any blame onto mental health professionals, publicly defended known abusers, and had to be pushed by dogged advocates before he would enact changes.
Facing backlash after his 2005 deposition testimony in a child sex abuse case was made public, Imesch apologized to his flock in a February 2006 letter for “the pain and embarrassment you have experienced from the media reports,” but not for his decision-making. He did not take responsibility for enabling abusers and putting children in harm’s way—despite admitting to just that in his deposition—and instead placed the blame on psychologists and therapists. Imesch reasoned that “[t]he actions of the priests happened before psychologists recognized that behavior of that kind was indicative of a severe problem that could not be adequately treated” and claimed that he “relied heavily on the judgment of professional therapists when they concluded that a priest was fit for return to ministry.” He even applauded his decisions to keep abusers in circulation, noting that some “carried out their responsibilities well and…with the commendation of supervisors.” By Imesch’s logic, some positive performance evaluations for priests who (enabled by Imesch) continued to sexually abuse children, should be solace to any community victimized by those abusers. Imesch’s uncompromising defensive posture, attempts to justify mistakes, and refusal to acknowledge that he ever made a mistake, inflicted further suffering on the diocese’s faithful.
The release of Imesch’s deposition transcript led Tim Placher, a journalist for the Daily Southtown, to share child sex abuse he suffered at the hands of diocesan priest Father Richard Ruffalo. Placher came forward about the abuse in graphic, painful detail in a March 2006 Daily Southtown column. He also called for Imesch to step down as bishop. Imesch responded to Placher’s column by ignoring Placher’s pain and bemoaning that it was actually Imesch himself who was “deeply hurt” and “baffled” because “[f]or 26 years, [Placher] never said anything. And now (he comes out publicly), is it because of the publicity around me? It sounds like he wants to smear my name.” In sum, a survivor publicly shared that a priest in the diocese sexually abused him as a child, and rather than offer apology, seek forgiveness, and seize an opportunity for possible healing, Imesch threw stones at the already injured member of his flock. In doing so, Imesch displayed the same need for self-preservation and lack of care, understanding, and compassion that had plagued the Diocese of Joliet for decades under his watch on the issue of child sex abuse by Catholic clerics. His callousness likely deterred other survivors from coming forward to seek healing out of fear that Imesch would turn the tables and claim an ad hominem attack on him.
Conclusion
The Diocese of Joliet has been receptive to feedback and recommendations from Attorney General investigators, much of which was informed by conversations with survivors. However, the diocese has demonstrated little initiative in correcting gaps and missteps in its policies and procedures on its own. With the conclusion of the Attorney General’s investigation, the diocese is called to continue its movement toward transparency and healing, and frequently examine its practices on its own accord to avoid complacency and encourage growth.