Judge quotes Bible, Shakespeare before sentencing priest

 

As a strict observer of the Nine Commandments, Monsignor Kevin McAuliffe toiled for nearly a decade as a leader of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Catholic Church and the Las Vegas Diocese. As a thief in immaculate robes, McAuliffe ripped off $650,000 from church coffers over the years to feed a raging video poker habit. He did not discriminate: He stole from the votive candle fund, the novena fund, and the church gift shop. On Friday morning, in U.S. District Judge James Mahan's packed courtroom, McAuliffe sought leniency and did not get it. Mahan heard about McAuliffe's tragic gambling compulsion from defense expert witness Dr. Timothy Fong of UCLA's Gambling Studies Program. In addition to displaying all the signs and symptoms of a man in the throes of gambling addiction, McAuliffe also appeared to suffer from depression and social anxiety disorder, the $250-an-hour expert said. Defense attorney Margaret Stanish gamely tried to portray her client as a deeply remorseful man whose life of good deeds was marred only by a tragic flaw in the form of a gambling addiction. "This is a man who has given his life to these people," Stanish said, alluding to his many supporters from St. Elizabeth's. She added, "He's done good works since he was a kid." Trouble is, McAuliffe admitted being an accomplished thief for the past decade. By the end of Fong's testimony, and a withering cross-examination by Assistant U.S. Attorney Christina Brown, Mahan appeared irritated by all the pathological gambling palaver and sentenced McAuliffe to 37 months in prison -- four more months than recommended in the pre-sentencing report and agreed upon by the prosecution. Mahan eloquently quoted from the Gospel According to Matthew and conjured the image of the devout as a lily of the field. "You were a lily," the judge said. Then he reminded McAuliffe of the words of Shakespeare, who in Sonnet 94 wrote, "For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds." Oh, what the defense would have given to hear the judge quote from "The Merchant of Venice" about the quality of mercy not being strained. With all the hand-wringing about addiction and quoting from the Bible and the Bard, you might begin to think the story of Monsignor McAuliffe is a genuine tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. But alas, dear readers, it just ain't so. Prosecutor Brown riddled Fong's supposed expert testimony with holes. While Fong recommended the defendant receive intensive psychotherapy, Brown effectively argued that McAuliffe's sudden change of heart appeared more motivated by the threat of prison than a high-minded epiphany. By the time Brown finished with him, Fong looked like he needed therapy. Of course the priest was a compulsive gambler -- one who betrayed the trust of his extended family, or in this case 8,800 families, by stealing from them. The thievery only ceased after he received a visit from the FBI. It was only then he saw the light and sought help for his compulsive behavior. On Friday, McAuliffe sought forgiveness. By the size of the crowd of supporters that assembled in federal court, it's clear he's been forgiven by many parishioners. But that doesn't exactly settle his debts for absconding with 650 grand. For heaven's sake, the mob didn't skim that much from the Tropicana. It would be bad enough if McAuliffe simply stole from the church to which he'd pledged devotion and loyalty. The church is just a building. McAuliffe stole from people who trusted him. Rich and poor. Old and young. In good times and bad. He stole from people at a time many were losing their jobs, their savings and their homes. When it came time to throw himself on the mercy of the court, the experienced extemporaneous speaker read from a carefully crafted prepared statement. McAuliffe's words left Mahan unmoved. The judge knows that America's prisons are littered with drug addicts who fed their vicious habits through thievery. You know what the justice system calls them? Inmates. And what do you call a priest who steals $650,000 from his own parish family? A bum who is now headed from the Lord's house to the big house.

Some say he’s half man half fish, others say he’s more of a seventy/thirty split. Either way he’s a fishy bastard.

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