Holy Week pastoral letter written by Fr. McShane of Fordham University

Fr. McShane's pastoral letter for Palm Sunday and Holy Week...…..


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Dear Members of the Fordham Community,

Peace of Christ.

Let me begin with an embarrassing confession. How embarrassing? Very embarrassing. At least for a Jesuit. Here goes. I always approach Holy Week with a mixture of eager longing and dread. There. I said it. Eager longing and dread. I know that you will say that that is a very strange combination of feelings, and I would agree. And yet. And yet, it is the awful truth. You will, of course, ask why I feel this way whenever I see Holy Week roaring toward me on the liturgical calendar.

And of course, Holy Week is closely linked by the calendar to Passover, the first night of which is celebrated on Wednesday evening. Thus, this month we have two spring observances of loss and redemption from two Religions of the Book. A symbol of the universality of faith and love.

But back to Holy Week: The truth behind the confession that I just shared with you is this: I know (and I suspect that you know it as well) that Holy Week and the Passion (the narrative that lies at its heart) are filled with shadows and wrenching emotional pivots. You know what I mean. From Palm Sunday to Spy Wednesday to Holy Thursday to Good Friday to Holy Saturday, we face and wrestle with displays of cruelty contending with tenderness, warm friendship answered by bitter betrayal, professions of undying support followed by abandonment, honesty squaring off with intrigue, hope fighting for the upper hand against despair, and love locked in (mortal) combat with deadening cynicism.

And so, I enter Holy Week with my eyes wide open, and with the understanding that once I step over its threshold on Palm Sunday, there is no turning back. It’s an all-or-nothing proposition. Therefore, I face the emotional and spiritual roller coaster that it promises with that mixture of eager longing and dread that I told you about a few minutes (or sentences) ago. I really do. You may, of course, say that having read what I just shared with you, you understand the “dread” part of my confession and then ask me how I could possibly look forward to the ordeal (and it really is an ordeal) with eager longing. The simple answer is that I can’t help myself. I just can’t. The love that stands at the center of the Passion accounts (and thus drives all of Holy Week) is so commanding, and its ultimate triumph so consoling that I can’t resist it. I simply can’t. (And I suspect that you can’t resist it either. Admit it. If I can come clean, so can you. And while we are about the work of telling the truth to one another, I should also tell you that I also look forward to Holy Week with deep, heartfelt longing because I know that although the Passion is timeless and unchanging, it surprises me every year by revealing more and more about the love that lies at its core. Therefore, to borrow a phrase from Saint Augustine, it is “ever ancient, ever new”; and I thirst for the newness that God has in store for me every year, and especially this year.)

And so, on this Palm Sunday morning, once again I will step across the threshold of Holy Week with eager longing and dread. Normally, I would enter the Week in the company of a great throng of other believers and be buoyed up, consoled, and strengthened by their faith. Normally, I would enter with holy dread holding a bit of the upper hand over eager longing. Normally I would pause before plunging into the Week to ask for the grace to walk with the Lord Jesus with unflinching courage. Normally. But this year and this Holy Week are anything but normal. We will not find ourselves in the company of large throngs. We will enter it and walk through it in a solitary way. We will all of us enter it with more longing than usual. Longing for companionship with the Lord. Longing for comfort. Longing for love. For my part, I must confess that this year I will change the prayer for grace that I normally utter on Palm Sunday morning. This year, I will pray for the grace to feel and know that the Lord is walking with me—and with all of us as we walk through our shared experience of the very real human passion/suffering that we find ourselves wrestling with.

If experience has taught me anything about what will be the highlight of this year’s Holy Week, it is this: that by the end of the Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday, I will be exhausted. Wrung out. And as I have always done in the moments of exhaustion that follow the Good Friday liturgy and extend into the quiet of Holy Saturday, I will stand, sit, or kneel before the image of the Pieta in the thirteenth Station of the Cross in the University Church. As I do, I will hear over and over in my head the haunting words and music of the Passiontide hymn “O Sacred Head Surrounded.” In this contemplative moment, (after the semi-cinematic sweep of the events of Holy Week has passed) I will gaze at Mary, the Mother of Sorrows. I will look at her face and see there the unfathomable sorrow of a mother suffering the shock of seeing her Son die “out of order,” that is, before her. I will gaze at her hands as she cradles her Son with what one of the Advent prefaces calls “love beyond all telling.” And in that moment, I will (as I always do) see the price and yes, the triumph of the redeeming love of God, who always chooses to walk with His people and share their sufferings. This year, I will also meditate on and make my own these words that come from the Rite of Marriage in the Book of Common Prayer: “Most Gracious God, we give You thanks for Your tender love in sending Jesus Christ to come among us, to be born of a human mother, and to make the way of the cross to be the way of life.” The cost and triumph of love.

I may be wrong, but I believe (and believe with all my heart) that the Pieta is the image for this year’s Holy Week, a week during which so many of our friends will struggle with and/or die of COVID-19. Therefore, once again I hope that you will not mind if I ask a favor of you. Close your eyes. Then, see in your mind’s eye one of our sisters or brothers who is dying without the comforting presence and warm embrace of his or her family in the moment of fear or dread in which they need them most. Be present to that person. Cradle them with your prayers. Be fervent. Be bold in your prayer. Ask the Mother of Sorrows to join you as a companion in prayer. Let the power of love triumph in that moment of prayer.

Be assured of my prayers for you and all whom you love during this most solemn Week. May it be a week during which the Lord walks with you and reveals ever more fully the depth of His love for you. And for our Jewish families and loved ones celebrating the liberation from Pharaoh’s bondage, I pray that you also are liberated from fear, from illness, and from the loneliness that this pandemic spring has brought to all of us.

Prayers and blessings,
Joseph M. McShane, S.J.

Pastoral message of March 29th from the President of Fordham University

This is another pastoral letter I have received from Father McShane, and as promised, I am posting it here, for comfort and inspiration. 

Dear Members of the Fordham Community, Peace of Christ. During my visits to the University Church, I have found myself irresistibly drawn to pray before stained glass windows in the east transept. I can and do stand before it for long periods of time, frequently with tears in my eyes. Understand that I have passed and looked at that window hundreds of times in the course of the twenty-three years that I have been at Fordham. And I have never had a particularly emotional reaction to it. In fact, if the truth were told, I would have to confess that my eyes--dry or otherwise--were never really drawn to it. At all. Of course, if you asked me, I could have told you who was depicted in the window. If you asked me if there was anything else interesting about it, I would probably have told you that the artist who created the window had cleverly inserted a Rembrandt Christ into the background. But I was never drawn to it. I was never drawn into it. Never. I'd walk past it without emotion. But not now. As I said, these days I can't get away from it. It draws me in with great force. And it speaks to me. You might ask what could possibly move me to tears before that window. Good question. Bear with me. The window captures a very innocent moment, the moment at which St. Aloysius Gonzaga received his First Communion from St. Charles Borromeo, the Archbishop of Milan (and a great saint in his own right). Innocent enough. But there is a story behind the young man in the window. Aloysius Gonzaga. Gonzaga. If people hear that name these days, they would most probably tell you that it brings to mind the famously successful basketball program at the Jesuit university in Spokane that bears that name. Nothing more. But there is far more to the man in the window than his connection to that perennially strong basketball team from Washington State.   Aloysius was the eldest son of the Marquis of Castiglione. Therefore, to say that he was a child of privilege would be an understatement. A vast understatement. A budding princeling, Aloysius spent his early life among the courtiers of the noble houses of Renaissance Italy (those hotbeds of ambition, corruption, intrigue and power), with a few side trips to the Hapsburg courts of Spain and Austria. Although he was destined to inherit his father's title and live a life of privilege, his head was not turned by what he saw in those settings. Far from it. In fact, he was deeply troubled by the venality and corruption he encountered in them and decided at an early age to enter the newly-founded Society of Jesus. His father was furious. Aloysius stood his ground. He renounced his titles and his inheritance and left behind him the life his father wanted for him. After he entered the Jesuits, he pursued his studies at the Roman College, where St. Robert Bellarmine was his spiritual director. When a plague broke out in Rome, like many of his young Jesuit confreres, he worked in the city's hospitals, ministering to its victims. When his superiors (for fear of incurring his father's wrath) forbade him to continue his work, he pleaded with them to allow him to continue. They relented, but with a catch. They told him that he could only work in a hospital that did not serve contagious patients. He accepted the assignment on the spot. In the course of his service, however, he cared for a patient who had, in fact, been infected with the plague and was himself infected. He died shortly thereafter.   His brethren recognized his holiness. They recognized his heroism. They recognized his goodness. They were also astounded by the magnitude of the sacrifices he had made: giving up the life of a courtier to live a life of simplicity, and giving up his life to serve the suffering. (His old spiritual director, Robert Bellarmine, a saint, a scholar, and a cardinal, was so impressed by Aloysius that he asked to be buried at his feet.) Throughout his life and in the manner of his death, then, Aloysius was a "sign of contradiction" (or a living oxymoron): he was a humble noble. Or was he all the more fascinating because he redefined nobility in terms of service? I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions.   For myself, when I go to the University Church these days, I am drawn to St. Al's window. I stand there transfixed. And these words from the Book of Sirach ring in my ears and rumble through my heart: "Let us now praise famous men and women . . . those who gave counsel by their understanding, leaders in their deliberations and learning, wise in their instruction. And ... the men and women of mercy, whose righteous deeds have not been forgotten. Their posterity will continue forever, and their glory will not be blotted out. People will declare their wisdom and the congregation will proclaim their praise." And then I think immediately of the St. Al's in our midst. I think of the men and women on the front lines in the titanic battle with COVID-19 in which the whole world is caught up. I think of the doctors, nurses, EMS workers and counsellors. I think of the parents who have put their lives on hold to watch over their children. I think of the people who labor to keep the nation and the world running. And I am rendered speechless. Absolutely speechless. I find myself inspired just thinking about them. And grateful. Speechless, inspired and grateful. All at once.   Of course, I suspect that I am not alone. I suspect that, like me, you too recognize their goodness, their heroism, and their holiness. Indeed, I suspect that, like me, you recognize their saintliness. And, I suspect that, like myself, you are ennobled by seeing and knowing them, and deeply grateful that they have, through their work shown us the holy nobility that comes from service, especially service of the poor and the most vulnerable.   And so, my dear friends, I wonder if you would mind if I asked a favor of you: could you look at their faces of these latter-day St. Al's as their stories are told not in the artistry of stained glass, but on the television news reports that we all watch with rapt attention every day. Look at them intently. As you peer into their eyes, pray for them. Pray for them. And, because this would both please them and affirm the nobility of what they are doing, pray also for those whom they are serving so selflessly during this time of trial. Be assured of my prayers for you and all whom you love as I stand before St. Al's window and contemplate the epitaph frequently used to summarize his life and the call that we have all received: Natus ad Altiora, "Born for Higher Things." For we have all been called to Higher Things. Like noble service.   Prayers and blessings,   Joseph M McShane, S.J.

Pastoral messages from the President of Fordham University

As an alumnus of Fordham University (Rose Hill Campus in the Bronx, NY), I receive emails from the President of the university, and recently, started receiving pastoral letters from him to all Fordham alumni. But also to the world at large, because his words help a lot of people. I will be posting Father Joseph McShane's pastoral letters from time to time. I find them to be comforting and inspiring in these coronavirus times. 

A Pastoral Message from Father McShane | Sunday, March 22, 2020

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By Bob Howe on March 22, 2020 University News

Dear Members of the Fordham Community,

Peace of Christ.

On the night of 11 October 1962, the day on which the Second Vatican Council began, a large (and unexpected) group of pilgrims made their way to St. Peter’s Square and gathered under Pope John XXIII’s window. Although he was caught completely by surprise by their appearance, “Good Pope John” opened his window and delivered what is now referred to as his “moonlight address,” a sort-of homily that many think was the most remarkable speech he gave in the course of his historic pontificate.

For reasons that I hope will become clear, I have found myself haunted, consoled and enriched by it as I have prayed my way through the past week. “Haunted, consoled and enriched.” Words to conjure with, to be sure. I certainly conjure with them, and they stir up strong feelings in my heart. I hope that you will find Pope John’s words to be as consoling as I do. I also hope that they will enrich you. Of course, it will take time to see if they haunt you as they have haunted me.

Looking down at the friendly crowd that filled the Square, Pope John said, “Dear sons and daughters, I feel your voices! Mine is just one lone voice, but it sums up the voice of the whole world. And here, in fact, all the world is represented tonight. We ask for a great day of peace. My own person counts for nothing—it’s a brother who speaks to you, but all together, (we) give honor to the impressions of this night, which are always our feelings, which now we express before heaven and earth: faith, hope, love, love of God, all aided along the way in the Lord’s holy peace for the work of the good. And so, let us continue to love each other, to look out for each other along the way: to welcome whoever comes close to us, and set aside whatever difficulty it might bring. When you head home, find your children. Hug and kiss your children. And when you find them with tears to dry, give them a good word. Give anyone who suffers a word of comfort. And then, all together, may we always come alive—whether to sing, to breathe, or to cry, but always full of trust in Christ, who helps us and hears us, let us continue along our path.”

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m no John XXIII. Far from it. He’s a saint and I’m a deeply flawed guy in a Roman collar. And yet, all week his encounter with the pilgrims under his window has framed my prayer, and his words have become more and more the substance of my prayer (and my charge) for you. Although you have not appeared under my window, you have crowded into my heart. When I close my eyes in prayer, I see you. I see you in the settings in which I have encountered you: in the plaza and elevators at Lincoln Center; on Edwards Parade and along the pathways at Rose Hill; at Convocation and at the Faculty Senate; in the cafeterias on both campuses; in the carpenter’s shop; at games and gatherings; the offices where you labor for us; at dances and awards events; and at Spring Preview and Opening Day. I see your faces. I hear your voices and accents. You crowd in on me from every side. And, as was the case in Saint Peter’s Square so many years ago, you bring the whole world to Fordham. And you fill my heart with pride.

If the truth were told, I miss you. Terribly. Achingly. But this is not about me. It’s about you. I know your goodness and generosity. Therefore, I ask you to put your generosity of heart to good use in a world that is deeply wounded at the moment. Take to heart the words of Good Pope John. No. I take that back. Let your actions be guided, inspired and driven by his words. If you do, you will be God’s missionaries to the world He loves with His whole heart, especially at this very difficult time in the history of the human family: “Continue to love each other, to look out for each other along the way, to welcome whoever comes close…when you go home, hug and kiss your children (and your parents and siblings)…And when you find them with tears to dry, give them a good word. Give anyone who suffers a word of comfort. And then, all together, may we always come alive — whether to sing, to breathe or to cry, but always full of faith in God who helps us and hears us, let us continue along our path.” May you be consoled, enriched, energized and, yes, haunted by this charge.

And so, my dear brothers and sisters, although I miss you, as we enter into a new and challenging phase of our nation’s response to the present crisis, I entrust the worlds in which you live to your care. It matters not if you are a believer or non-believer, may your homes be places of blessing for all of you. May you find solace and joy there. May you be enriched by the memories that have hallowed them over the years. Cherish your families there. May you discover God’s sustaining presence there. And may your encounters with the God of all consolation make you ever more what you are meant to be (and what I have come to know you are): lights shining forth in a world in need of comfort, hope and love.

Prayers and blessings,

Joseph M. McShane, S.J.

Women should be deacons in the Catholic Church

I am posting an article from Fordham Magazine in its entirety, because it is worth reading. I don't need to comment on it much--I agree with its message and aim. Women need to play a larger role in the Catholic church, and there's no time like the present to try to effect such a change--allowing women to become deacons. The time for change is here.

https://news.fordham.edu/faith-and-service/commission-calls-for-catholic-church-to-let-women-become-deacons-again/?utm_source=Fordham+Master+List&utm_campaign=dddd5f7b54-FORDHAM_MAG_2019_1_31&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_808eb3c98f-dddd5f7b54-172681701

Panel Calls for Catholic Church to Let Women Become Deacons Again

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BY PATRICK VEREL ON JANUARY 16, 2019EDITOR'S PICKS, FAITH AND SERVICE

Donna Ciangio, O.P.; Bernard Pottier, S.J.; Phyllis Zagano, and Thomas Rosica. Photo by Leo Sorel

The time has come for women to reclaim their roles as deacons in the Catholic Church.

That was the assertion of a panel of scholars who came together on Tuesday, Jan. 15 at Fordham’s Lincoln Center campus.

The issue of whether women can become deacons is one that the Vatican had studied twice since the early 1990s. In 2016, Pope Francis announced a third commission, made up of six women and six men, to study its feasibility.

A New Look at an Old Idea

Phyllis Zagano, Ph.D., and Bernard Pottier, S.J., two members of that commission, spoke Tuesday at a Fordham panel event, The Future of Women Deacons: Views from the Papal Commission and the American Pews.

Zagano, a senior research associate-in-residence at Hofstra University and author of Women Deacons? Essays with Easy Answers (Michael Glazier, 2016), said evidence of the existence of women deacons, who share many responsibilities with priests, in the churches’ earliest days is indisputable.

Documents available in Vatican libraries from the fourth and fifth centuries make clear the existence of a position that was separate and distinct from the priesthood, and was therefore open to all, she said, and specifically referenced women.

“The earliest ordination for deacons is in the apostolic constitution, which directs the bishop to lay hands on [a woman being ordained]in the presence of the presbyterate, the male deacons, and the woman deacons, and to pray a prayer that parallels the ordination of the deacon, including the Epiclesis, which is the calling down of the Holy Spirit,” she said.

“God is asked to bless her in regard to her ministry. The ordaining bishop places a stole around her neck. As I’ve said to many people, ‘If she wasn’t a deacon, they would call her something else.’” she said, but the responsibilities would have been the same.

An Upheaval Leads to Shifting Attitudes

In the middle of the 18th century, she said, scholars began rejecting the idea of a female deacon, and quibbled over whether these women had been “ordained” or “blessed.” Zagano said the words were used interchangeably at the time.

“For me, if a bishop was laying hands on a woman, invoking the Holy Spirit, putting a stole on her, giving the chalice, and calling her a deacon, I don’t know what else to say,” she said.

So why did women deacons disappear? Father Pottier, a faculty member at the Institute D’Etudes Théologiques in Brussels, said the Great Schism of 1054, when what is now the Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox churches split, was key to the change.

“The Western church began to think by its own, without the mystical spirituality of the East, that rationality and legalistic thought was more important,” he said.

The upside of this was the rise of immensely influential philosophers such as St. Thomas Aquinas, he said.

“On the other side, we lost a little bit of what the sacrament is. What is the spirituality and the grace of the sacrament? The West wanted to do everything clear, and everything simple. So the sacrament of ordination became very simple. You have cursus honorum, a sort of scale you have to pass by all the steps, and not miss one. A deacon became only a step to priesthood,” he said, and therefore, something reserved for men.  But he cautioned that this needn’t be the end of the story.

“Our faith has roots in the Bible, in the New Testament, in the person of Jesus Christ, and in what the church has done. We do not have to be afraid of history. In history, we do not have a source of rigidity and immobility,” he said, but rather an example that change is possible.

A View From the Pews

Panelist Donna Ciangio, O.P., said conversations she’s had with lay members of the Archdiocese of Newark, where she is chancellor, have convinced her that parishes need women deacon now.

“I asked a few parishioners about the possibility of women deacons, and the first answer I got was, “Aren’t you and Sister Sandy deacons already?” she said.

Where the issue really rears its head is when she works with couples who want to have their child baptized in the church.

“We ask them, is there anything that keeps you from embracing the church wholly? One woman said to me, ‘My children ask me, ‘Why can’t women be priests or deacons?’ I have no answer that satisfies them,’” she said.

Sister Ciangio also recently oversaw the creation of a study guide to help Catholics better understand this issue, titled Women Deacons: Past, Present, Future, (Paulist Press, 2012), which Zagano co-wrote. She invited 12 parishioners from the diocese to come together to read it.

“As we discussed each chapter, they became more and more interested, but they became more and more agitated,” she said, noting that none were aware of the existence of women deacons in the past.

“The group became convinced that it’s no longer acceptable not to have women deacons in parishes or significant leadership positions in the church.”

What Next?

What if Pope Francis decides this is not the right time to let women become deacons again?

The panel has presented its report to the pontiff and is waiting for a response. Zagano said that given the church’s dire need for those who can minister to the faithful, even a delayed answer will be a negative answer.

“I think it’s up to the church to make noise. The pope has said in other cases, make noise. Well, make noise,” she said.

“I have a sense that he will know the time to say something. We have from May 6 to 10 a triennial meeting of the international union of superiors general, the women who originally asked him to examine this issue. If I were the pope, I wouldn’t want to walk into a meeting with 900 nuns without an answer.”

The panel event was sponsored by Fordham’s Center on Religion and Culture. David Gibson, the center’s director, said the topic is a timely one given the upheaval the church has faced recently.

“Elevating and broadening the role of the women in the church, as Pope Francis has said we must do, is especially critical today if we’re to answer the call of the spirit in this time of epochal change and challenge for the Catholic church,” said Gibson.

“It is a call that our nation and our world must respond to.”

The panel was moderated by Thomas Rosica, C.S.B., president of Salt & Light Media, and was streamed live on Salt & Light.

Bernard PottierCatholic ChurchCatholicismCenter on Religion and CultureDavid GibsonDonna CiangioPhyllis ZaganoThomas Rosica

Sexual abuse scandal, the Jesuits, and Fordham University

I've written about the sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic church in several previous posts from last year. I recently received an email from the president of Fordham University (where I attended college) entitled Northeast Province of the Society of Jesus Releases Names of Priests Credibly Accused of Abuse. I am posting his letter to us here, which makes it clear that Fordham University takes this scandal very seriously. I am proud to say that I am an alumnus of this university, and am glad to see that they are determined to hold the sexual abuse perpetrators to account. Some of them are most likely dead at this point, but for those who are not, the letter makes clear that they are criminals and that they should be treated as such.

Dear Members of the Fordham Family:

Earlier today, the Jesuit USA Northeast Province of the Society of Jesus released a list of Jesuits against whom there are credible allegations of sexual abuse committed against minors. Among those accused are five Jesuits who, over the past six or more decades, were assigned by the Province to serve at Fordham University or Fordham Preparatory School, which separated from the University in 1970. The USA Northeast Province includes the former New York, Buffalo and New England Provinces.

As the sexual abuse scandal that has engulfed the Catholic Church unfolds, it is incumbent on all of us who are leaders at affected institutions to support the survivors and to acknowledge the inalterable harm that was inflicted on these brave survivors and their families. They are and will remain the University's first and central concern. We must also ensure that policies and procedures are in place to prevent this from ever happening again. To that end, the Board of Trustees has created an independent Advisory Committee of lay trustees – excluding Jesuit members of the Board or management at Fordham – to review allegations of sexual misconduct against Jesuits. In particular, the Advisory Committee has been tasked with reviewing and analyzing allegations of abuse by Jesuits who were employed by or otherwise associated with the University at the time the alleged misconduct was committed, overseeing the management of claims concerning such abuse, and examining any appropriate preventative and remedial measures to address allegations of such abuse.

In connection with the University’s efforts in this regard, and following the Northeast Province’s release of its list of credibly accused Jesuits, we are also releasing a list that includes four additional names of priests who have been identified by other Jesuit Provinces as having similarly credible allegations against them, and who were associated with the University or Fordham Prep prior to its separation from the University in 1970. We also note that some of the names identified on the Northeast Province’s list are of priests who were not associated with the University or Fordham Prep prior to 1970 but who resided at Murray-Weigel Hall, a Jesuit nursing home that is owned and operated by the Northeast Province and is located on property adjacent to the University’s Rose Hill Campus. Fordham University has not historically been empowered to decide who is assigned to reside at Murray-Weigel Hall. Nonetheless, at Fordham’s insistence, the Northeast Province has recently removed all men with known credible accusations against them from Murray-Weigel Hall. In addition, some names on the Province’s list may include individuals who were associated with Fordham Prep after its separation from the University in 1970.

The sexual abuse of a minor or other vulnerable person by someone in a position of privilege and authority is an unspeakable violation of human decency and completely antithetical to the mission and ethos of our University. While none of the accused priests are involved in Fordham University’s student life or operations today, we are horrified that some of these alleged crimes were committed when the perpetrators were associated with the University or were otherwise in close proximity to our students.

Our insistence that alleged offenders be removed from Murray-Weigel is just one aspect of Fordham University’s commitment to protecting our students from potential harm. In addition to the work of the Advisory Committee and the protocols that it is developing, Fordham will report any accusation of sexual abuse of a minor by any member of our community to law enforcement, regardless of its date of occurrence, and immediately remove the offender from any Fordham position they occupy pending the outcome of an investigation. If the allegations are deemed credible, the perpetrator will be banned from campus and from any contact with students.

There are a number of resources at Fordham and in the broader community designed to support survivors of sexual abuse or misconduct. Fordham University’s website and Student Handbook include detailed procedures for reporting sexual misconduct, assault or other acts of violence either confidentially to a counselor, internally to Fordham administrators, or externally to the New York City or Harrison, N.Y. Police Departments. If you have experienced or observed sexual or other misconduct, including unwanted sexual contact, you are encouraged to contact Kareem Peat, Fordham’s Title IX Coordinator, at (718) 817-3112 or titleix@fordham.edu and/or the Province’s Victims’ Coordinator, Kristin Austin, at (443) 370-6357 or UNEadvocacy@jesuits.org.

We are heartsick that the shadow of the crisis within the larger Catholic community has been cast upon our University, and deeply troubled by the very real possibility that there are still survivors whose accounts of abuse we have not yet heard. Know, however, that Fordham will take all actions necessary to ensure the safety and well-being of its students – past and present – faculty, and staff, and of course to be responsive to the concerns of parents, alumni and other members of our community.

With deepest sorrow for the past and hope for the future,

Joseph M. McShane, S.J.
President, Fordham University

Robert D. Daleo
Chairman of the Board, Fordham University Board of Trustees


From the Northeast Province:

J. Peter Conroy, S.J.  At Fordham from 1972 to 1979
Roy Drake, S.J. At Fordham from 1965 to 1968
John McCarthy, S.J. At Fordham from 1956 to 1992
Eugene O’Brien, S.J. At Fordham Prep from 1950 to 1953 and 1960 to 1980, and at the University from 1986 to 1991.
William Scanlon, S.J. At Fordham from 1972 to 1974

Those on the lists prepared by the four other American Provinces with connections to Fordham are the following:

John Bellwoar, S.J.  (Maryland Province) At Fordham Prep from 1936 to 1938
Maurice Meyers, S.J. (Midwest Province) At Fordham from 1951 to 1959 and 1973 to 1974
Francis X. Nawn, S.J.  (West Province) At Fordham from 1980 to 1981
Philip Sunseri, S.J.  (West Province) Lived in University Residence Halls from 1983 to 1986