A REFLECTION ON OCTOBER 28, 2016
In a fitting placement, three days before Halloween, my life was shattered by the events of October 28th, 2016. Indeed, the events of that day continue to haunt me, and not a day goes by without uselessly rehashing the reasons why Bishop Dewane and his cronies chose to start a vendetta which has continued for eight years. It all could have come to an end, with the Bishop calmly walking away, after the two-plus year County investigation into my life alleging that I stole Marion McIntyre’s wedding rings in a hospital visit (where I was accompanied by my brother, and now deceased, sister-in-law), ended in my favor. I knew nothing of that investigation, although I was aware that greedy members of the Knott family, who had never met me, were convinced that I was a criminal, abusing elderly people, even though there was no evidence of that in the previous forty years of my priesthood. That investigation was closed some 7-8 months before the dreadful meeting of October 28 at the Catholic Center in Venice. I am still puzzled why Bishop Dewane, the so-called chief shepherd of the Diocese, chose never to speak to me about the details of the case. And yet, I am not surprised.
My lack of surprise stems from the various forces that were at work, mostly behind the scenes. The characters in my melodrama consisted of wealthy (and greedy) people from Baltimore, who couldn’t stand the slightest scent of being cheated from what they considered theirs. Although she loved them, after all they were family, Marion spoke about them disparagingly often, citing their lack of generosity, and suggesting her parents, who she adored, would be embarrassed by the actions of her brother, her sisters, and her niece. Indeed, it is well known that they sued one another for any appearance of what was viewed as affronts to their inheritance. Marion’s brother Martin was the primary force behind the County investigation, demanding complete silence from the County investigator and from the Bishop of Venice, who decided listening to him was more important than following Canon Law. When I arrived at the Catholic Center on October 28, I had no idea what the two-foot stack of papers was in the middle of the conference room table.
People will recall the description of that very brief 20-minute meeting. With Bishop Dewane’s henchman in tow (his Judicial Vicar, Rev. Joseph Waters, curiously imported from the Diocese of St. Pete, with a shady past of his own), the meeting was an exhibition of the finest bullying Bishop Dewane was known to muster. Throughout the Diocese, Dewane’s flare-ups were feared, hence the letter from ten pastors at the very beginning of his tenure in Venice. With a face reddened by increasing blood pressure, Bishop Dewane left his usual chair to walk around the room, alternating between pointing at me and the stack of papers on the table, and in an elevated voice shouted “there is evidence in there that incriminates you.” With no moral compass to guide him, the Bishop would shout more than once, “there is a warrant in there for your arrest,” something blatantly untrue. That the County investigation had ended months before, with no condemnation of me, was never mentioned!
There was no desire for details or my side of the story. Like some politicians, Bishop Dewane’s only intention was to frighten me, and so much was being tossed at me I genuinely was frightened. It is then that the Bishop and his J.V. pulled out what they hoped would not just end the meeting, but also get me out of their hair permanently. With no investigation of their own, they pulled out papers printed in advance, which if I signed them, would do away with my priesthood permanently. I had not stolen Marion’s rings, they were found in her condo several weeks later, so what egregious wrong did I do that merited such a drastic outcome? What happened to a “presumption of innocence,”something specifically mentioned in Canon Law! I refused to sign the papers, in spite of repeated encouragement to do so (on the ride home, and months later).
I could spend the night in the rectory, but I needed to be gone by 9:00 am, my requests to perform a pre-arranged parishioner’s funeral (Carol Buckley) were summarily refused. I could pack up and take what I might need, not knowing how long I would be ordered off the property.
In those moments before rising at the start of every day, I would ponder much: why didn’t Bishop Dewane walk away from this when the County Investigation ended and I was found to be without provable guilt? Had he invested too much negative energy in what the Knott family and Khristy Scheer, the office manager, had to say? It has become clear to me that Khristy Scheer knew about the County investigation more than a year before, and her ‘assistance’ had been secured at that time. As with the Bishop, I am unable to ponder the depth and source of Khristy’s vindictiveness, a vindictiveness which over the past eight years would manifest itself in the most unsettling of ways.
I am reluctantly resigned to never knowing the answer to so many questions, questions I still have with regards my case and the Diocese. Why would a bishop, as Shepherd, want to do this to one of his priests? Why would the bishop refuse to speak to me regarding the details of this case? How can any bishop get away with ignoring the prescriptions of Canon Law? Why would a bishop call the press into the weekend Masses on October 29-30, and then lie about it? The Bishop was never interested in preserving my good reputation, something that is a priority in Canon Law. Why would Bishop Dewane lie about the warrant for my arrest? Why would the Bishop, Father Waters, and Khristy Scheer, hatch a plot for the retrieval of my personal belongings, which included armed thugs and the issuing of a lifetime no trespassing order? Why would a bishop be so openly hostile to the faithful parishioners of St. Isabel? With over forty years of service to the Church, why would (and why could) Khristy Scheer disband the Woman’s Guild? Why did the Bishop refuse to share with us the details of their case to Rome, even after the Dicastery for Clergy told them they had to? And why didn’t the Dicastery make them do what they asked them to do?
In a recent letter dated May 16, 2024, Fr. Waters lies once again, suggesting that the “Diocese provided Fr. Senk and his representatives a complete copy of the Acts regarding the Second Special Faculty Process to prepare his defense.” This is patently false. Further, the “serious suspicion of wrongdoing,” (their new favorite phrase), has never been defined or spoken about with me, nor has the nature of the “scandal” I supposedly created ever been spoken of. To date, I know nothing about what the Diocese has said about me to others, including Rome, nor has Bishop Dewane ever spoken to me personally about any of the matters pertaining to this case.
As if the memory of this day isn’t painful enough, today on this eighth anniversary of the Bishop’s attack on me, I spent the entire morning in the Emergency Room. I mention this not to seek sympathy, but rather because it so clearly illustrates the reason that my medical team said it would not be advised to be away from my rather large medical team for any extended period of time. Although Father Waters still suggests I should go to Shalom House in Texas, they refused me admittance based on the numerous health issues I have. I am not doing it because I want to disobey the Holy Father, as the Diocese has suggested.
The details of October 28, 2016, will always remain vivid in my mind. The stronger memories, however, are those of the great people who have stood by me and supported me over the past eight years. Anyone who has been victimized by their Bishop, and the Diocese he bullies into submission, could never be as lucky as I have been. The generosity, love, and care-filled compassion shown to me over the past eight years is a gift of inestimable wealth, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. God bless you all, and never stop fighting for the justice everyone deserves.
Fr. Christopher
parishionersforjustice.com 