Catholic Church
Finances
HIGHLIGHTS:
Sexual-abuse cases have cost the American Catholic Church more than
$3 billion . Funds have been diverted away from
uses intended by donors to frustrate
creditors with legitimate claims, including its own nuns and priests.
They have been moving money around and transferring
assets to the bishop to reduce court settlements and
shield cash from sexual-abuse victims.
In California, (although funding for
religious groups is prohibited under the state's constitution),
court rulings have opened the door
. Catholic groups there have raised at least $12 billion through
muni bonds over the past decade.
Also over the past decade, 30 US states and local
authorities have issued municipal bonds for the benefit of at least
50 dioceses - to pay for the expansion and
renovation of facilities that would previously have been largely paid for
through donations. Overall church municipal debt has
increased by an estimated 80% over that period.
The
Church enjoys a subsidy more commonly associated with local
governments and public-sector projects.
|
Manhattan’s largest landowner
(courtesy of The Economist) |
The
American
taxpayer has helped mitigate the church's losses from its
settlements .
|
Catholic institutions employ over one million
people.
Catholic Charities USA, (employ over 65,000) distributed
$4.7 billion to the poor in 2010,
of which
62% came from local, state and federal government agencies.
Increased reliance on taxpayers has not been
matched by increased openness and accountability.
Annual spending by the church was around $170
billion in 2010:
| 57% of this goes on health-care networks, |
| 28% on colleges, with |
| just 6% - parish and diocesan operations |
| just 2.7% - National Charitable Activities |
|
Subject to the oversight of a bishop
or a religious order:
| over 6,800 Catholic schools (5% of the national total); |
| 630 hospitals (11%) plus |
| a similar number of smaller health facilities; and |
| 244 colleges and universities. |
| seven of the leading 25 part-time law school programs in America
are Catholic (five are run by Jesuits). |
|
A chief financial officer was
arrested and charged with embezzling more than $900,000.
Hundreds of priests
have been disciplined for taking from the collection basket.
Separation
between church and state in America means that religious groups
are not required to file tax returns.
Concealment, coercion and financial mismanagement goes on when
politicians ( and potential whistle-blowers) fear involvement.
FULL ARTICLE
from the Economist
The Catholic church is as big as any company in America Bankruptcy cases
have shed some light on its finances and their mismanagement
The
finances of the Catholic church in America
are an unholy mess. The sins involved in its book-keeping are not
as vivid or grotesque as those on display in the various sexual-abuse
cases that have cost the American church more than $3 billion
so far; but the financial· mismanagement and questionable business
practices would have seen widespread resignations at
the top of any other public institution.
The sexual-abuse scandals of the past 20 years have brought shame to the
church around the world. In America they have also brought financial
strains. By studying court documents in bankruptcy cases, examining public
records, requesting documents from local, state and federal governments, as
well as talking to priests and bishops confidentially,
The Economist has sought to quantify the
damage.
The picture that emerges is not flattering. The church's finances look
poorly coordinated considering (or perhaps because of) their complexity.
The management of money is often sloppy. And some parts of the church have
indulged in ungainly financial contortions in some cases it is alleged both
to divert funds away from uses intended by donors
and to frustrate creditors with legitimate claims,
including its own nuns and priests.
The dioceses that have filed for bankruptcy may not be typical of the church
as a whole. But given the overall lack of openness there is no way of
knowing to what extent they are outliers.
Thousands of claims for damages following sexual-abuse cases, which
typically cost the church over $ million per victim, according to
lawyers involved, have led to a liquidity crisis. This seems to have encouraged
a pre-existing trend towards replacing dollars from the faithful with
publicly raised debt as a way of financing church business.
The church is also increasingly keen to defend its access to public
healthcare subsidies while claiming a right not to provide certain medical
services to which it objects, such as contraception.
This increased reliance on taxpayers has not been
matched by increased openness and accountability. The church, like
other religious groups in America, is not subject to the same disclosure
requirements as other non-profits or private entities.
Little is known about the Catholic church's finances outside America.
JPMorgan Chase recently closed the Vatican Bank's accounts
under pressure from the US Treasury. The Holy See has also
struggled to get itself placed on lists of jurisdictions that are deemed to
have strong antimoney laundering controls. This may reflect bad
organisation rather than a concerted attempt to hide anything, though
documents leaked by Pope Benedict XVI's former butler to an Italian
journalist suggest that maladministration in the Vatican goes beyond
mere negligence.
But America, not least thanks to its bankruptcy procedures, provides a
slightly clearer window on the church's finances. And America is so
important to the church that it merits particular examination.
Only three countries-Brazil, Mexico and the Philippines
- have larger Catholic populations than America, and nowhere has a
larger Catholic minority. Almost 100mil. Americans, a third of the
nation, have been baptised into the faith and 74mil. identify themselves as
Catholic.
Discrimination against the Catholic minority, and strong leadership from
Rome, encouraged American Catholics to create a sort of parallel society in
the19th and 20th centuries, with the result that there are now:
| over 6,800 Catholic schools (5% of the national total); |
| 630 hospitals (11%) plus |
| a similar number of smaller health facilities; and |
| 244 colleges and universities. Many of these institutions
are known for excellence: |
| seven of the leading 25 part-time law school programmes in America
are Catholic (five are run by Jesuits). |
| A quarter of the 100 top-ranked hospitals are Catholic. |
All these institutions are subject to the
oversight of a bishop or a religious order.
The Economist estimates that annual spending by
the church and entities owned by the church was around
$170 billion in 2010 (the church does not
release such figures). We think:
| 57% of this goes on health-care networks, followed by |
| 28% on colleges, |
| 6% parish and diocesan day-today operations |
| 2.7% national charitable activities (see chart).
|
| 6.3% - Other |
In total, Catholic institutions employ over one
million people, reckons Fred Gluck, a former McKinsey managing
partner and co-founder of the National Leadership Roundtable on Church
Management, a lay organisation seeking to improve the way the church is run.
For purposes of secular comparison, in 2010 General Electric's revenue was
$150 billion and Walmart employed roughly 2m people.
The church is the largest single charitable organisation in the country.
Catholic Charities USA, its main charity, and its subsidiaries employ
over 65,000 paid staff and serve over 10m people. These organisations
distributed $4.7 billion to the poor in 2010, of which
62% came from local, state and federal government agencies.
The American church may account for as much as
60% of the global institution's wealth. Little surprise, then, that
it is the biggest contribution to head office (ahead of Germany, Italy and
France). Everything from renovations to St Peter's Basilica in Rome to the
Pontifical Gregorian University, the church's version of West Point, is
largely paid for with American money. (Whilst only 18 of the 212 Cardinals
are American).
Where that money comes from is hard to say (the church does not release
numbers on this either). Some of it is from the offerings of the faithful.
Anecdotal evidence suggests that America's Catholics give about $10 per
week on average. Assuming that one-third attend church regularly, that
would put the annual offertory income at around $13
billion. More comes from elite groups of large donors such as the
Papal Foundation, based in Pennsylvania, whose 138 members pledge to
donate at least one million $ annually, and Legatus, a group of more
than 2,000 Catholic business leaders that was founded by Tom Monaghan of
Domino's Pizza.
There is also income from investments. Timothy Dolan, the president of the
United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) and
Cardinal-Archbishop of New York (a "corporation
sole", meaning a legal entity consisting of a single incorporated
office, occupied by a single person), is believed to be
Manhattan's largest landowner, if one
includes the parishes and organisations that come under his jurisdiction.
Another source of revenue is local and Federal Government, which:
| bankroll the Medicare and Medicaid of patients in Catholic
hospitals, |
| the cost of educating pupils in Catholic schools and |
| loans to students attending Catholic universities.
Wages and sin
The molestation and rape of children by priests in America has resulted in
more than $3.3 billion of settlements over the past 15 years, $1.3
billion of that in California. The total is likely to increase as
more states follow California and Delaware in relaxing the statute of
limitations on these crimes, most of which were reported long after
they happened. For an organisation with revenues of $170 billion that
might seem manageable. But settlements are made by individual dioceses
and religious orders, whose pockets are less deep than those of the
church as a whole.
The fact that far fewer Catholics are answering the call to become nuns,
monks and priests (the minor seminaries, once the first step of the
recruitment process, are almost empty) adds
to the pressure. It saves some current costs, but reduces in perpetuity
the pool of very cheap labour that the church
has relied on. Dioceses increasingly need to pay people market rates to
get jobs done that were previously assigned to clergy and members of
religious orders. This pushes running costs up.
On the revenue side, donations from the
faithful are thought to have declined by as much as
20%. The scandals probably played a part in this: few people want
to donate money that will go to shoring up the
damage done by predatory priests. But many in the church also feel
that competition for charitable dollars has increased.
Over the past eight years, a combination of these stresses has driven
eight dioceses (including San Diego, Thucson and Milwaukee) to
declare bankruptcy, as well as the American
arm of the Irish Christian Brothers and a regional branch of the
Jesuits.
More of America's 196 dioceses could be forced to do the same.
Efforts are under way in the legislatures of Arizona, Illinois, New York,
Florida, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Colorado, Pennsylvania, Ohio and California
(again) to extend statutes of limitations, according to Jeff Anderson, a
lawyer who represents many victims of abuse. If any of these efforts
succeeds, the expectation among lawyers like Mr Anderson is that some of
the affected dioceses would seek Chapter 11 protection while they attempt
to settle the cases. (Troubled dioceses generally settle suits just before
the bishop is due in court.) The diocese of Honolulu could be the next to
go bankrupt. In May it was hit by a pair of new lawsuits after the
extension of Hawaii's statute of limitations for victims of abuse.
Various sources say that Cardinal Dolan and other New York bishops are
spending a substantial amount - estimates range from $100,000 a year to
well over $1m on lobbying the state assembly
to keep the current statute of limitations in place. His office will not
comment on these estimates. This is in addition to the soft lobbying of
lawmakers by those with pulpits at their disposal. The USCCB,
the highest Catholic body in America, also lobbies
the federal government on the issue.
In April the California Catholic Conference, an organisation that
brings the state's bishops together, sent a letter to California's
Assembly opposing a bill that would
extend the statute and require more rigorous background checks on church
workers.
Some dioceses have, in effect, raided priests'
pension funds to cover settlements and other losses. The church
regularly collects money in the name of priests' retirement. But in the
dioceses that have gone bust lawyers and judges confirm that those
funds are commingled with other investments, which makes them
easily diverted to other uses. Under Cardinal Bernard Law, the archdiocese
of Boston contributed nothing to its clergy
retirement fund between 1986 and 2002, despite receiving an
estimated $70m-90m in Easter and Christmas offerings that many
parishioners believed would benefit retired priests.
Church officials denied the money it had collected
was improperly diverted.
By 2008 the unfunded liability had reached $114m. Joseph D'Arrigo, a
benefits specialist, was brought in to turn things round. In 2010 the
retirement fund was turned into an independent trust to ensure it could
not be used for other purposes - a first for an American diocese, reckons
Mr D'Arrigo.
The retirement funds for Wilmington, Delaware, were largely lost when it
settled sex-abuse claims for $77m in February 2011. Those funds had been
tossed into a pooled investment account that
also contained parish investments and funds for cemeteries and the
education of seminarians.
The Eastern United States province of the Passionists, a missionary
order, has diverted retirement funds to cover operating expenses. In a bid
to stave off bankruptcy it has sold off property, including a 1.4-acre
piece of New York waterfront, and made an
unorthodox investment in a Broadway show, "Leap of Faith". It
flopped.
In a public company, this type of thing would attract
regulatory scrutiny.
In the church, retirement is still largely in the gift of the bishop.
Retirement plans for priests are typically set up as diocesan trusts
rather than proper pension funds with structured benefits. They do not
fall under the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974, the
law that establishes standards for plan trustees and remedies for
beneficiaries, including access to federal courts.
Priests thus have no recourse to law if
they are hard done by. Nor, as a matter of course, can they
take their pensions with them if they leave for another diocese.
Richard Vega, who recently stepped down as president of the National
Federation of Priests' Councils, estimates that 75-80% of clergy
pension schemes in America are underfunded.
He says that only a small minority of priests will have set aside enough
of their net average salary of $25,000 a year to cover themselves. Others
will be less fortunate.
The clergy and its creditors
The principle of separation between church and
state in America means that religious groups are
not required to file tax returns, list their
assets or disclose basic facts about their finances. Some dioceses do
publish accounts, but these tend to provide an incomplete picture. Though
lawyers for dioceses facing bankruptcy have fought to keep most
financially sensitive documents sealed, the process has forced the church
to let in unaccustomed light.
The documents that have been disclosed reveal that some bishops in the
bankrupt dioceses presented the diocesan funds of parishes, schools,
hospitals and retirement accounts as separate when they were really simply
bookkeeping entries in the same pooled investment account. The diocese of
San Diego, for instance, reported to the bankruptcy court that it had over
500 accounts. But these were merely entries in a "Parish, School Diocese
Loan 'Trust Account", maintained in a single bank account at Union Bank of
California.
Such pooling saves on administrative costs and allows dioceses to use a
surplus in one area to cover shortfalls in another, often a legitimate
course of action. But it has presented problems when it comes to working
out which assets belong to whom in bankruptcy proceedings.
The vast majority of parishes that commingled their funds with those
dioceses now in bankruptcy lost all their investments. In some cases they
were misled into believing that the money would be kept separate from the
main diocesan funds, and thus safe in the event of bankruptcy. The judge
in the Wilmington bankruptcy, Christopher Sontchi, said parishes that had
suffered this fate had grounds to sue the diocese for
breach of fiduciary duty. None has but that
is hardly surprising, given that the bishop and the chancellor
of the diocese sit on the five-member board of trustees of each
parish.
Some parishes were more careful than others in ensuring their funds were
handled properly. According to a document in The Economist's possession, a
parish priest in Wilmington wrote to the diocese: "Find enclosed a cheque
for $1,000,000 to be in vested in [the parish of] St Thomas's name in the
diocesan account. It is my understanding that if the need arises, this is
and always will be available for parish use. If this is not the case,
please return it and I will put it under my mattress for safe keeping."
The diocese cashed the cheque, apparently depositing it in a general cash
account.
The parish lost the money when the diocese struck a sexual-abuse
settlement.
By contrast St Ann's parish, also in the Wilmington diocese, wired its
deposits directly into a segregated investment account at Mellon Bank
rather than to the diocesan cash account at Citizen's Bank. Its trustees
also insisted on drafting a special agreement stipulating that funds
provided to the diocese were held in trust.
Plaintiffs' lawyers have raised questions about financial transfers in
dioceses threatened with bankruptcy. These tend to go the other way -
moving money out of diocesan accounts
and into parish accounts, trusts of various
sorts and any other receptacle at hand. According to an independent report
commissioned by a bankruptcy judge, at one point priests in San Diego were
taking cash out of accounts and putting it in safes in the rectories
because they wanted to keep it out of reach of plaintiffs.
Nobody becomes a priest, monk or nun in order to spend their professional
life as a financial manager, so no doubt part of this money shuffling is
down to innocent incompetence. But the church does shift between
considering all assets as part of a single pool when that suits, and
claiming that funds have always been separate and ring-fenced when they
are exposed to claims.
Creditors in the Milwaukee bankruptcy case, which is still in progress,
have questioned the motives behind a $35m transfer to a trust and a $55.6m
transfer from archdiocese coffers to a fund for cemeteries.
Cardinal Dolan, who was Archbishop of Milwaukee at the time, authorised
both transactions.The creditors think the movement of such large amounts
had more to do with shielding cash from
sexual-abuse victims than with the maintenance of graves,
calling the manoeuvre fraudulent.
Cardinal Dolan's office responded to questions about these allegations by
pointing to blog posts in which he described them as "baloney" and
defended the transfers as "virtuous, open and in accord with the clear
directives of the professionals on our finance council and outside
auditors".
As "debtors in possession" - entities that have filed for bankruptcy yet
retain their assets - bust dioceses have an obligation to enlarge their
assets to satisfy their creditors. On the contrary, "we have seen a
consistent tactic of Catholic bishops to shrink the size of their
assets, which is not only wrong morally but in
violation of state and federal law," says
Ken Brown of Pachulski Stang, a California law firm that has represented
creditors in eight of the ten Catholic bankruptcy cases.
In a particularly striking example, the diocese of San Diego listed
the value of a whole city block in downtown San Diego at $40,000, the
price at which it had been acquired in the 1940s, rather than trying to
estimate the current market value, as required. Worse, it altered the
forms in which assets had to be listed.
The judge in the case, Louise Adler, was so vexed by this and other
shenanigans on the part of the diocese that she ordered a special
investigation into church finances which was led by Todd Neilson, a former
FBI agent and renowned forensic accountant. The diocese ended up
settling its sexual-abuse cases for almost $200m. If it had not done so,
the bankruptcy would have been thrown out of court and the bishop
and chancellor of the diocese and its lawyers might have faced
contempt charges.
Some assets are not listed at all. In a corporate bankruptcy, if insurance
is relevant to the reason for the company's failure then its insurance
policy has to be listed as an asset. Not so those of the
Catholic Mutual Group (CMG), which stepped up its help for Catholic
dioceses in the mid-1980s - a time when liability insurance became too
expensive as a result of the increase in sexual-abuse claims. Since the
CMG is technically not an insurance company but a voluntary religious
"mutual benefit society", its policies do not have to be disclosed
as assets in a bankruptcy proceeding, even though it contributes
substantial funds towards settlements.
One way to reduce costs is to reduce the number of parishes. There are two
ways to do this. The first is to merge one parish with another parish and
combine their buildings, congregations and finances. The second, more
controversial way is to "suppress" the parish,
which involves the transfer of all of the assets to
the bishop, who reassigns parish priests as he sees fit. The funds
in the parish bank accounts are placed in the general treasury of the
diocese, as are the proceeds of land sales, none of which is subject
to disclosure.
Faced with shortfalls in Boston (where he was a temporary
administrator) and later in Cleveland, Bishop Richard Lennon
suppressed dozens of parishes as part of
reorganisation plans for each of the two archdioceses; given the pervasive
commingling of accounts, some of the money thus accumulated could have
gone to pay operating expenses and, at least in Boston, court
settlements.
The parishioners were unimpressed.
Some heckled the bishop when he visited their parish to celebrate
mass. One of the Boston parishes, St Frances Cabrini in Scituate,
Massachusetts, has been occupied for the past
eight years by parishioners who have
refused to accept its closure. They have a roster chart to ensure
at least one person is at the church at any time, so that the archdiocese
can't change the locks.
Some parishes have filed appeals to Rome. In
an unusual move in March, the Vatican reversed the closing of 13 of
the parishes that Bishop Lennon had suppressed.
As well as questionable financial management, the church also suffers from
fraud and embezzlement, according to
Jason Berry, an expert in Catholic finance and author of "Render Unto
Rome: The Secret Life of Money in the Catholic Church". In
March the former chief financial officer of the archdiocese of
Philadelphia was arrested and charged with
embezzling more than $900,000 between 2005 and 2011.
Hundreds of priests have been disciplined for
taking more than a little "walking around money" from the
collection basket.
In the corporate world, those who witnessed such malfeasance might alert a
higher authority. But priests make unlikely whistle-blowers. It is often
hard for them to imagine a life outside holy orders, which could be their
fate if they alienated the bishop who has a hold
over their salary, pension and private life.
Would-be whistle-blowers will also be aware that local and federal
authorities are loth to investigate mainstream religious groups for
fear of the political consequences. Assistant United States
attorneys in two different federal districts have pushed the FBI
to investigate concealment, coercion and financial
mismanagement in parts of the church but have
got nowhere. |
The taxpayer as good Samaritan
Growing financial pressures have encouraged the church to replace donations
from the faithful with debt. According to figures from the Municipal
Securities Rulemaking Board over the past decade, state and local
authorities have issued municipal bonds for the benefit of at least
50 dioceses in almost 30 states to pay for the expansion and
renovation of facilities that would previously have been largely paid for
through donations. Overall church municipal debt has
increased by an estimated 80% over that period. At least 736 bond
issues are currently outstanding.
California is the biggest borrower. Although
funding for religious groups is prohibited
under the state's constitution, a series of court rulings has
opened the door to bond issues. Catholic
groups there have raised at least $12 billion through muni bonds
over the past decade. Of that, some $9 billion went to
hospitals.
In one case, in San Jose, the money' went to buy
chancery offices for the bishop.
The dioceses back their bonds with letters of credit from banks. Among the
most active guarantors are Allied Irish Banks (AIB), US Bancorp and
Wells Fargo. None of the banks was prepared to discuss the financial
terms of these contracts.
Muni bonds are generally tax-free for investors, so the cost of borrowing is
lower than it would be for a taxable investment. In other words, the
church enjoys a subsidy more commonly associated with
local governments and public-sector projects.
If the church has issued more debt in part to meet the financial strains
caused by the scandals, then the American taxpayer
has indirectly helped mitigate the church's losses from its settlements.
Taxpayers may end up on the hook for other costs, too. For example,
settlement of the hundreds of possible abuse cases in New York might
cause the closure of Catholic schools across the city.
It is not wrong for churches to issue bonds. But, like many other aspects of
the Catholic church's finances, this should be more
transparent. It is quite possible that church finances are, taken as
a whole, not as bad as the details coming out in bankruptcy cases suggest.
Dioceses and religious orders that go bankrupt cannot be assumed to be
representative. If so, then showing better management in the rest of the
church would do a lot to allay concern. And increased openness might have
the added benefit of bringing in the acumen of a knowledgeable and concerned
laity.
Some influential Catholics are keen to see better management and more
openness and accountability. Leon Panetta, America's defence secretary,
called for outside oversight of church finances when he was a director of
the National Leadership Roundtable on Church Management, a position
he relinquished in 2009 to become director of the CIA. Faced with
competition from other churches and disgrace from the behaviour of some of
its priests, there has never been a more important time to listen to such
calls, and to invite in the help and scrutiny that the church's finances
seem so clearly to need.
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