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By Root 1497 0

Fichter, today the pastor of Sacred Heart parish in Haworth, New Jersey, coordinated the Legion’s administrative office in Rome from February 1998 until October 2000. Fichter left the Legion for the diocesan clergy, earned a doctorate in sociology from Rutgers, and today is a New Jersey pastor and an associate at a Georgetown University research center. “When Father Maciel would leave Rome it was my duty to supply him with ten thousand dollars in cash—five thousand in American dollars, and the other half in the currency of the country to which he was traveling,” explains Fichter. “It was a routine part of my job. He was so totally above reproach that I felt honored to have that role. He did not submit any receipts and I would not have dared to ask him for a receipt … As Legionaries, our norms concerning the use of money were very restricted. If I went on an outing I was given twenty dollars and if I had a pizza I’d return the fifteen dollars to my superior with a receipt.”72

Besides Regina Apostolorum and the Center for Higher Studies, where Chris Kunze lived, Maciel built Mater Ecclesiae, a seminary in Rome for various dioceses; newly named bishops stayed there for training. Maciel grounded the Legion into the church infrastructure of Rome. Sitting at a 2000 celebrational lunch on the campus, Maciel saw Sodano, seated at another table, and snorted to a Legionary: “Este hombre no toma paso sin guarache” (This man does not make a move without having his feet covered; that is, getting something in return).

When Chris Kunze went to the Legion vacation house at Santa Maria de Termini near Sorrento, on the Mediterranean, for the 2000 summer break, his loneliness was acute. While there he met a young woman who was divorced with two children. As she confided about herself, his pastoral front softened; he spoke about his doubts. He kept his vow of celibacy, but in the emotional freedom realized that Legion life was eating at him like acid on the soul.

In the warm glow of an August evening he sat alone with Maciel in the house, both of them wearing Mexican guayaberas. He said he had to leave; he was simply not cut out for life in the priesthood. He wanted to go back to America. “You’re wrong,” replied Maciel. “You have an important position. You must follow God’s will.” But, said Kunze, his loneliness was not new, he’d struggled with it years ago in Germany. Maciel frowned. “If I’d known that I wouldn’t have recommended you for the Vatican, Father Christopher.” He doesn’t remember what I confided in letters from Germany, realized Kunze, because Legionary brothers ghostwrite his letters. How could he keep up with the deep personal details of so many men, so many letters? But I know he kept the letters …

Maciel jabbed a finger on the table. “If you don’t fulfill God’s will, you will go to hell!” Kunze told him chastity was a burden he could no longer bear.

Maciel sat back with arms folded, legs extended, a dripping scowl.

Soon, though, Legion superiors proposed that Father Christopher spend a sabbatical period of discernment in Cheshire, Connecticut. He agreed.

In September he accompanied Maciel on one of his walks around the campus the superior general took most days he was in Rome. Recalling pleasant experiences of his religious life, particularly the Vatican work, Kunze thanked him. Maciel glowered. “When you leave the Legion don’t you ever join league with the conspirators against me!” Never before had Kunze seen Maciel vulnerable. He realized the letters that he and others had sent, revealing innermost thoughts and sins, gave Maciel leverage should anyone criticize him.

The Vatican paid Kunze $8,000 in severance, which he kept for himself. He told his Clergy colleagues he was returning to America; his mother was ill.

With avuncular kindness, Cardinal Castrillón wished him well.

Maciel’s cynicism extended to using “espionage” against other officials. The respected Spanish journalist José Martínez de Velasco published a book based on internal documents given to him by a disgruntled Legionary who took files as he walked