Thy Brother's Keeper: Why Wrongful Convictions Should Matter to You
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Thy Brother's Keeper: Why Wrongful Convictions Should Matter to You

. . . I was sitting in a county jail awaiting sentencing to prison. I was cut off from everyone. My Diocese would not even accept my collect calls. My own lawyers told me I had no choice. What meager assets I had were exhausted on the first trial. So, post-trial, I entered into what I called - then and now - "a negotiated lie." It was a lie that was extorted from me, but the lie was not mine alone. If you've read my post, "The High Cost of Innocence," you know that even then the pressure never ended. Prison itself has any number of sanctions to further punish those who do not admit guilt. I spent five years confined to a cell housing seven other prisoners because I would not admit guilt. The notion that men in prison always claim to be innocent is a myth. There are dire consequences for such a claim. . . .

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Faith Trumps Relativism: Pope Benedict XVI at World Youth Day
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Faith Trumps Relativism: Pope Benedict XVI at World Youth Day

. . . "The answer comes down to this," she wrote: "1960s-style liberation - from moral codes, family obligations, religious commitments - has betrayed us . . . So our baby-boomer parents partied hard, yet in so many cases left us only the hangover: heartbreak, addiction and broken homes, rising rates of teenage depression and suicide. The anything-goes religion of the late 20th century cannot prevent, or even explain these consequences. For Anna Williams, the solution for Catholic youth in the first decade of the 21st century has been evident. The solution is the great adventure of orthodoxy evident in The Catholic Spring seen in young Catholics throughout the Western world - including In our seminaries. They reject the assumptions Of the 1960s in favor of the creeds, practices, and moral codes that defined religious life in the Catholic Church for centuries. Why, Anna Williams asks, are these million young Catholics at World Youth Day so happy to be Catholic? "Because they've recognized that the Church's teachings are, in fact, true, and because freedom lies in self-sacrifice." . . .

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Descent into Lent
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Descent into Lent

. . . Remember when I wrote last week that I don't swear unless I'm quoting someone? I'm not exactly sure who I was quoting, but out it came! Ninety-nine percent of every day in here is so filled with noise that I can't hear myself think. It was just my luck that my single moment of foul outburst occurred during the sole moment of silence of the entire day in this cavernous place. Over the next hour, I heard a litany of "Fifty cents!" "Fifty cents!" as prisoners came by to gloat. My confessor is planning a visit next week. Good timing! Father Fred is retired in New York City, and drives ten hours round trip every couple of months to touch base with me and hear of my flaws. Fred has been driving up here for over fifteen years. He spends most of his time in retirement writing to priests in prison. I hate losing patience, but it's what I seem to do best. I'm trying hard not to add to the list between now and Fred's visit. The Sacrament of Reconciliation has always been painful and humbling for me, but very necessary. For that reason I have always been sympathetic to how painful and humbling it is for others, and always tried to make it less so. . . .

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Forty Days and Forty Nights
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Forty Days and Forty Nights

. . . I am not at all spared anxiety in prison, and the place where it most manifests itself is in dreams. I have very vivid dreams since I have been in prison, and they have not abated over the years. I have two recurring dreams that are haunting and clear displays of my own anxiety. They make some nights more… well … Lenten than others. I have had each of them in one form or another many, many times.In one of the dreams, I am about to celebrate Mass in a church. As I begin the Mass, the people in the congregation become hostile. They brandish newspapers and begin to shout as I start the Eucharistic Prayer. Sometimes they are just a crowd of silent, angry, condemning eyes. Sometimes they stand en masse and turn their backs on me. Every version is painful, but I must proceed with the Mass. When the time comes, no one will take the Body of Christ from my hands. . . .

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Questions from Readers of These Stone Walls
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Questions from Readers of These Stone Walls

. . . On August 26th, I posted "Postcards from the Edges." It wasn't exactly a masterpiece of western literature. Nonetheless, I thought it was a good post that addressed a timely topic: news media bias. It was barely noticed, and received few comments. Six weeks later on October 7th, I posted "To the Readers of These Stone Walls." I didn't think it was very interesting, but it generated more comments than any post before it, and was linked on a number of other blogs. Readers seemed interested in how These Stone Walls came into being, and in the obstacles we face. . . . A number of readers have posted comments and sent messages with pointed questions about prison, possible appeals, my weekly Mass, etc. I'd like to respond to some of them here. Some are direct questions from readers, and some are composites of questions asked by several readers. . . .

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The Eighth Commandment
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

The Eighth Commandment

. . . Last month, a Massachusetts high school teacher was exonerated after facing a nearly identical plight. A 14-year-old student accused him of sexual assault. Months later, his life in near ruins, the teacher was exonerated at trial when it was learned that the girl made up the story because the teacher had reprimanded her in class. Here in prison, men often joke about how easy it is to set someone up in this way. Some have openly asked me for the names of priests who might have been present in their childhood communities so they can bring an accusation for money. (See "Sex Abuse and Signs of Fraud.").A few months ago, a self-described member of Voice of the Faithful wrote a scathing message to me. The writer, a retired teacher, declared that any effort to revisit the case against me is "nothing but a misguided right-wing conspiracy."The man's criticism was responded to by a friend who asked him what makes him feel so immune in an arena in which anyone can be accused by anyone, from decades ago, and with no evidence whatsoever. His blustering response was, "I have absolutely no fear of EVER being accused of such a thing." Well, neither did Michael Gallagher. Neither did I until it happened. . . .

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A Ghost of Christmas Past
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

A Ghost of Christmas Past

. . . Many of the Christmas cards that now adorn my cell wall tell of a Light shining in the darkness. You have cast a light into the darkness and spiritual isolation of prison this year. It's a light magnified ever so brightly, in my life and in yours, by Christ. The darkness can never, ever, ever overcome it. . . . When a young prisoner came to Dr. Frankl in the throes of despair, he was cautioned not to "waste grace." Dr. Frankl advised him that his days of suffering must be offered for the family he may never see again. It's a difficult concept for someone on the wrong end of injustice, but the young man was transformed by that advice. . . .

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Angels We Have Heard on High
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Angels We Have Heard on High

. . . When These Stone Walls was first considered, I was a bit nervous about an expected onslaught of negative, hateful comments. It's astonishing that in the five months of this blog's existence, only three such comments were aimed in our direction. One was from a self-described member of Voice of the Faithful that was little more than a name-calling rant. One was from a contingency lawyer who made enormous profit from keeping the accusations against priests going. The third was from a from a man who was charged with trying to blackmail a Boston priest in 2003. Voices like these have been given the loudest and last word in virtually every media article about accused priests since 2002. On These Stone Walls, you have overwhelmed and supplanted such comments with voices of reason, mercy, and truth - voices of faithful witness to the Gospel. This Christmas, the angels we have heard on high are you, the readers of These Stone Walls. . . .

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Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

New Spiritual Communion Page

. . .Many of you have expressed interest in offering a spiritual communion for Fr. MacRae. Beginning today, the First Sunday of Advent, These Stone Walls will sponsor a Spiritual Communion Page.We encourage you to join us in a weekly Holy Hour. If you're able, your Holy Hour may coincide with a weekly opportunity that Fr. MacRae has to celebrate Mass in private in his cell. The weekly Mass is celebrated each Sunday between 11 pm and midnight Eastern Standard Time. . . .

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Before the Mayflower: Pilgrims and Priests
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Before the Mayflower: Pilgrims and Priests

. . . G.K. Chesterton once famously remarked, “In America, they have a feast to celebrate the arrival of the Pilgrims. Here in England, we should have a feast to celebrate their departure.” Despite their disdain for Catholicism, it is one of the great ironies of American history that the Mayflower's Puritan Pilgrims owe their very survival in the New World – indirectly at least - to the Catholic Church. It’s a reality that would have made the pilgrims wince, but there would have been no Thanksgiving without Pope Paul III and a group of Spanish Jesuit priests. It's a complicated story, but it's worth telling. . . .

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The Day the Earth Stood Still
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

The Day the Earth Stood Still

. . . In the end, what was meant to be a sign of unity in the Church was transformed into an open battle in our seminary. The rector, a Sulpician, was a priest from my diocese. He was particularly incensed when I – the only seminarian from our diocese there – signed a petition challenging his authority to bar Catholic seminarians from attending a Mass with the Pope. On October 7, 1979, more than 200,000 people gathered on the National Mall in Washington, DC to welcome the Holy Father and celebrate the Eucharist with him. . . . I was horrified at the way they were singled out and ostracized, and I wasn't having it. On that day, I parted ways with the "trendy dissent" crowd. . . .

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The Sacrifice of the Mass Part 2
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

The Sacrifice of the Mass Part 2

. . . Then, suddenly, EWTN was gone. Early in 2008, EWTN converted to a digital signal ahead of the national transition that was to take place. To the dismay of many Catholic prisoners, EWTN was lost to us. The local cable company promised to restore it after the national transition to digital television, but that has not happened. EWTN is no longer available in the prison, and is deeply missed. I am approached daily by Catholic prisoners asking how we can restore EWTN. Without EWTN for daily Mass, I was stranded again. A friend challenged me to do all I can to regain the ability to celebrate the Eucharist. I wrote for an appointment with the current prison chaplain who told me he would approach prison officials for approval to have Mass supplies if our bishop also approved it. . . .

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The Sacrifice of the Mass Part 1
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

The Sacrifice of the Mass Part 1

. . . When I looked up at one point, I noticed a small wooden tabernacle on a shelf in the corner of the office. The tabernacle was hand carved by a Catholic prisoner, and was incredibly beautiful. Sitting there with the deacon's essay in my hand, I noticed a small Sanctuary Lamp that was lit. I realized with a great jolt that the Blessed Sacrament was in the tabernacle in the deacon's office. I felt overwhelmed, and tears came to my eyes. For the first time in over five years, I was in the Presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. The chaplain smiled, apparently thinking that I was reacting to his essay. . . . I awoke at 3:00 AM smelling smoke. A prisoner with a book of matches was trying to ignite my blankets while I slept, insisting that Satan awoke him in the night and asked him to do so. . . .

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Hey, Jude!
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Hey, Jude!

. . . We of "a certain age" remember all too well the Beatles' famous song, "Hey, Jude." Be careful! Some of the lyrics may escape you, but the melody is addictive. It can easily become "stuck in your head." I can hear it this very moment playing on neurons that first fired forty years ago. Was the song about the same Jude - the Patron of Hopeless Causes - whom we honor today? I was a teenager when I first heard the Beatles' "Hey, Jude" in the late 1960's (UGH! THE SIXTIES!!!). I remember thinking, at age fifteen, that the song was about St. Jude, Hope for the Hopeless. I liked the song, and even took some comfort from it for that very reason. It sounded like a prayer, and it seemed fitting that the Beatles, whose popularity edged toward idolatry - like a lot of the 1960's - might pray. Prayer or not, it has been sung like one since . . .

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Guess What's Coming To Dinner!
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Guess What's Coming To Dinner!

. . . An avid Clint Eastwood fan, my sister rented the video of the 1979 film, “Escape from Alcatraz,” and we watched it together sometime in 1984. In a memorable scene, Eastwood’s character had his first meal in the Alcatraz prison’s dining facility. It was spaghetti. Clint Eastwood watched as another prisoner fed a bit of spaghetti to a mouse hiding in his pocket. Edified by this snippet of humanity in such a place, Clint dug into his own spaghetti. The camera zoomed in, and both Clint Eastwood and the viewers caught sight of maggots squirming on the tray. Clint wasn’t the only one eating his spaghetti. My niece – then five, and now married with daughters of her own – came into the room just at that scene. She squealed, “EEEEUWWW!” and ran off. It was a month before my sister could serve spaghetti again. . . .

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