Frank Meuers
“The most difficult part of my journey was not the abuse itself but the lack of response from the church to that abuse.”
Awake: Frank, we appreciate your willingness to share your story. As we begin, what would you like to share about yourself and your life apart from your abuse?
Frank Meuers: I live in Plymouth, Minnesota, and I am a member and Minnesota Director of Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests, or SNAP. I grew up in the Minneapolis area and have lived here my entire eighty-five years. We were a family of six kids in a crowded two-bedroom house, located in a moderate-income neighborhood. We had a strong Catholic background from both my mom and dad.
In many respects, my story is very typical of Catholics of my generation. We grew up attending weekly Mass, monthly confessions, observed fasting rules and holy days, and in general following all the expected rituals of our church. We attended a Catholic grade school with teaching Benedictine Sisters, so we recited our daily prayers and studied the Catholic catechism. Daily life followed pretty much what kids did in the 1940s and 50s. I attended an all-boys Catholic high school and after graduation joined the U.S. Navy. After four years of service, I married and purchased a house in Minneapolis. I have been married to my wife for 61 years, and we have three children, one deceased and two living locally and working. My wife and I feel we both grew up with, and still have, a good, solid family background.
Q: Your story about your family and growing up in the Church sounds very familiar; I think many people of your generation can relate to your experience. What would you like to share about your abuse?
A: My dad was from a farm family of 12 kids and grew up with a dominant dad who believed kids were meant to be seen, not heard. My dad transferred that belief to our family as well. The males in our family were very authoritative and disciplined physically, so even though we thought of our family as a good family, we did not verbalize love or share any physical expression of it, such as hugs. We learned early not to question authority. My early abuse, both physical and emotional, helped me develop a conditioned response, a strong attitude of ready compliance with authority figures, especially men. According to my counselor, my observation of how my grandfather and father exercised their authority made it much easier for me to acquiesce to the demands of anyone in a position of authority, including church authority.
My initial abuse by church authorities took place in the context of the confessional. During the 1950s, as I was entering my early teens, I was having trouble with my feelings of sexuality. Confessing a possible mortal sin each visit brought wrath from some confessional priests, introducing the terror of possible loss of my soul. That is, until I found one priest who said he understood what I was going through. He said if I would wait for him after confessions we could discuss what was happening and how to deal with it. I thought I had finally found someone that understood what I was experiencing.
So started what became a pattern. He told me that confessions were from three to five each Saturday; I should arrive near the end and identify myself to him. While I was confessing, he seemed overly curious, asking many questions about masturbation, impure thoughts and such. Exiting, he always put his arm around me initiating physical contact while we talked. This made me feel uncomfortable, but I felt there couldn't be anything wrong as he was a priest, a representative of God. This pattern repeated for a couple of years, and we became closer friends.
Later in our relationship he asked if I ever thought I would be getting married someday. If so, he must inform me that he was under obligation from the Catholic Church to make sure that I was healthy enough to reproduce, and he had to attest to that in writing. Therefore, he was obligated to examine my genitals and attest that I was fit to be married and produce children. After him actually physically touching me, I decided I was never going to interact with him again. This experience and the haunting memories it produced has remained vivid in my memory to this day.
Q: I’m so sorry this happened to you, Frank. The manipulation of the sacraments to recruit your trust and then as the pretext for your abuse is scandalous. The violation of your safety and dignity as a person is even more so. As a survivor, what has been most difficult about your journey?
A: The most difficult part of the journey was not the abuse itself. It was the reaction of the Church when I notified them of my abuse. I wrote a letter to the Vicar General in 2010 naming my abuser and asking for a response to stop his actions. I received no response for one entire calendar year. Nothing. After a story about claims of sexual abuse appeared in the newspaper, I received a letter stating they would now be willing to talk about my allegations. I declined to meet with them, as after a year of waiting I had lost my respect for the Church forever. They say they are sorry for any abuse suffered, but this treatment reveals their real beliefs about victims who come forth reporting abuse, and seeking guidance. The priest who was my abuser was never disciplined and remained in this parish, with a school, for 33 years, despite 24 entries in his file showing knowledge of complaints from parents and victims. This continued rejection of me, basically denying the validity of my statement, was just more abuse. I believe that after one year of no response, they were basically stating that they just don’t care. I’ve met with the local bishop several times and have told him that their lack of response to the needs of the victims, the lack of follow-up with healing, demonstrates to us that they just don't seem to really care about us as victims. They simply want us to go away.
Q: It's deeply frustrating that when you spoke out your voice wasn't heard, and the justice you deserved was not granted. I wonder what has surprised you most in your journey as a survivor?
A: The thing that surprised and disappointed me most was the lack of support from our local parish community. My wife and I belonged to our parish for 40 years. After I was interviewed about my abuse, which appeared on the TV and the radio, only one person in our parish of 1,000 said they were sorry to hear what had happened to me.
The continued indifference from the Church at many levels also surprises and disappoints me. As an example, in 2013 I accompanied to the diocese a young lady who had been raped by her parish priest, requesting an interview with the bishop. We were ordered to leave the building, or they would call the police. This showed clearly they did not care about this victim-survivor and her needs. Subsequently, she has suffered greatly from mental and emotional anguish. I also have volunteered repeatedly to speak after Mass about clergy sexual abuse and its effect on victims, but I have not been granted permission. My conclusions from these experiences reinforces my feelings about the Church not wanting to implement restorative justice principles, but simply wanting us to go away.
Q: The Church’s reluctance to listen to your story and the experiences of other victim-survivors strikes me as fundamentally contrary to the teachings of the gospel. Thank you for raising our awareness by telling your story here, Frank. What have you learned that you think other victim-survivors might benefit from hearing?
A: I've learned that there's a lot of talk about addressing the issue of sexual abuse in the Church, but it isn’t all producing fruit. The University of St. Thomas has a Restorative Justice and Healing program to promote healing. It’s a good program, but in my mind restorative justice means one must identify any harm that occurred, discover who was harmed, and finally, and most importantly, ask how the harm can be remediated. In the last step, the victims must have input to address possible solutions. These could include diocesan-financed counseling, sponsored support groups, and an outline of steps to be taken and maintained to prevent any type of abuse in the future. I have seen no direct contact with victims to address any of their concerns. I frankly don't see these steps taking place in most of the Church’s programs. This brings more pain to all victim-survivors.
Q: Who or what inspires you or gives you hope as a survivor?
A: I facilitate an online SNAP group. We meet once a month via Zoom, and I see the growth of our members as we support and encourage each other. I've been facilitating for eight years, and we've had several people that entered with tears of despair, in a terrible state, unable to determine how to address their needs. Through the support of our group, they have become some marvelously self-determined people. That's gratifying.
—Interview by Katie Burke-Redys
Note from Awake: We extend heartfelt thanks to Frank Meuers for sharing his story. We also want to acknowledge that every survivor’s path is different. We honor the journeys of all who have experienced sexual abuse by Catholic leaders and are committed to bringing you their stories. In addition to Frank’s story, we encourage you to read our previous Survivor Stories here.
If you have experienced sexual abuse, you can receive support through the National Sexual Abuse Hotline, 800-656-4673, which operates 24 hours a day. If you seek support from the Catholic Church, you can find the contact information for your diocesan victim assistance coordinator here. Also, Awake is always open to listening to and learning from survivors. If you would like to connect with us, we invite you to email Survivor Care Coordinator Esther Harber at estherharber@awakecommunity.org.
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