Render Unto Rome_ The Secret Life of Money in the Catholic Church - Jason Berry [86]
“Supporting our situation” was a genteel way to describe a tribunal system that swung behind a bishop to help him overcome its own decision against his property seizure. As those negotiations cleared a path of sorts for the plan to proceed, its author Bishop Lennon was feeling pressure from David Castaldi, chair of the Parish Reconfiguration Fund Oversight Committee. In choosing Castaldi for that task, Seán O’Malley had turned to a reformer with loyalist trappings. Castaldi was a member of Voice of the Faithful, the lay group many bishops loathed, but he had a long background with the church.
Raised in small-town Indiana and a graduate of Notre Dame and Harvard Business School, Castaldi had founded, directed, and sold two biotechnology companies. He was “comfortably secure” when a priest in late 2000 suggested he interview for the job of chancellor of the archdiocese. Slender and bespectacled, Castaldi, then in his early sixties, had never met a bishop. Law impressed him; he took the job at a salary well below what he could have commanded: a way of giving back. He lasted eleven months. “Dave, this just wasn’t a good fit,” Law said in parting.
A decade later, sitting in the airy lounge of a Beacon Street hotel, Castaldi spoke in measured tones. “It wasn’t a good fit, I suppose. I tried to be diplomatic but I offended people. For the cardinal’s residence, I insisted that petty cash follow good procedures; the nuns were used to no procedures. I wanted documentation and receipts as a basis for replenishing petty cash. They didn’t like that at all.” Castaldi evinced a wry smile and took a sip of Diet Coke. “We needed more space in the chancery. Good operating practices suggested that we use that scarce resource more wisely. You had to make decisions, but you’re in a clerical culture. I wanted a priest to have a smaller office. He insisted he needed a larger office. His space changed: he was offended.”
Although Castaldi offered no defense of Law’s behavior in the abuse crisis, he spoke admiringly of Law’s response, after a zealot murdered someone at an abortion clinic, getting pro-life and pro-choice advocates to sit down and defuse tensions. “Law showed leadership,” resumed Castaldi, in his careful cadences. “And I wanted to instill better financial procedures. Compared to industry, procedures were not at an appropriate level. Maybe I didn’t have the right touch.” I asked, “What kind of procedures bothered you?” Castaldi raised his eyebrows, then said, “No one can approve their own expense reports. That doesn’t happen in private industry. I felt it had to change. The church had been run by priests, not laypeople with accounting degrees and business education. I didn’t fit into the clerical culture. More than the procedures I wanted to implement, I was abrasive to the culture in some respects.”
He paused. “It has changed considerably under Cardinal O’Malley. O’Malley has an endearing personality, but he’s not charming, like Law was. The last thing Law would have done was sell the cardinal’s estate. Cardinal O’Malley gets criticized by VOTF, SNAP [Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests], and BishopAccountability, but he does things other bishops have been unable to do. They’re posting financial statements on the archdiocesan website. I think it relates to his ability to part with things.”
David Castaldi’s parish had deferred maintenance issues, including asbestos, which prompted his support for the decision to close the parish. But the process of meetings to reach that end had been poorly handled. Although he liked Lennon from their past dealings, when he approached him for information on the Reconfiguration oversight work, Lennon resisted. “He interpreted the charter I negotiated with him