Former priest’s abuse claim puts spotlight on new Pope Leo XIV’s past

A defrocked priest says Pope Leo XIV knowingly allowed him to live near a school despite abuse accusations—an allegation that challenges the Church’s vow for transparency.

In a story that’s drawing intense attention, former Chicago-area priest James M. Ray has made a serious accusation against Pope Leo XIV—formerly Robert Prevost—just weeks into his papacy. Ray claims that Prevost, while leading the Midwest province of the Catholic Augustinian order in the early 2000s, allowed him to live at a friary just steps from a school, despite knowing about multiple child abuse allegations against him.

“He’s the one who gave me permission to stay there,” Ray told the Chicago Sun-Times, referring to his stay at St. John Stone Friary in Hyde Park from 2000 to 2002.

What makes the claim even more shocking is that Ray’s residence was just across the alley from a child care center and less than a block away from St. Thomas the Apostle Elementary School—yet no one at the school was ever informed of his presence.

Was the Pope aware?

Ray had already been accused of sexually abusing at least 13 children and was under strict limitations at the time. According to reports, a 2000 internal memo suggests Prevost may have known about the situation, though there is no legal proof he was required to inform local families.

Still, critics say he had a moral duty. The Augustinians claim Prevost was only “accepting a guest” and that responsibility for Ray’s conduct fell on Rev. James Thompson, the friary’s now-deceased onsite monitor.

Yet, the fact remains: a man with multiple abuse accusations lived near children under the nose of Church leaders—and no one said a word.

“I felt abandoned by the Church”

Ray was eventually removed from ministry in 2002, the same year The Boston Globe uncovered widespread cover-ups of sexual abuse in the Catholic Church. He was formally defrocked in 2012.

Now 70, Ray downplays the allegations but admits the pain lingers. “I felt abandoned by the church, but never felt abandoned by God,” he said. “My faith is still strong.”

Despite that, he offers vague and troubling answers when pressed about his past: “It was a young man I gave back rubs to,” he said, before finally adding, “I don’t know.”

Pope’s promise under fire

Pope Leo XIV has pledged to reform how the Church handles abuse. As recently as 2023, he stated, “Silence is not the solution. We must be transparent and honest… otherwise their wounds will never heal.”

Yet this new claim reopens old wounds and casts doubt on how seriously past Church leaders have handled abuse cases.

Ray’s final comment on Prevost’s rise to the papacy—“Why did it have to be an Augustinian?”—masks concern with a joke, but he later admitted that Prevost “gives off very positive vibes.”

Still, he warns that others from that era remain hidden: “I’m not the only one,” he said.

This story is about more than one man’s past. It’s about how institutions handle the truth, especially when it’s painful. For survivors of abuse, each new revelation is another reminder of betrayal. And for a Church trying to rebuild trust, transparency isn’t just a goal—it’s a necessity.

Pope Leo XIV has a rare chance to lead with honesty. Whether he confronts this claim head-on could define not just his legacy—but the Church’s future.