Framed

By Tim Schoonard

What would you do if your faith was put to the test; everything you believed in was turned upside down; and you suddenly found yourself under arrest and on trial for the crime of being a Catholic? Would there be enough evidence to convict you? The Prosecutor of Michigan’s remote Keweenaw County thought so.
In 2010, following the process set forth by the United States Council of Catholic Bishops, a father trustingly made a report of attempted sexual abuse by a monk of a Ukrainian monastery on behalf of his young daughter, with the Ukrainian Catholic Diocese of St. Nicholas in Chicago. What happened after that has been said to be one of the most documented cases of religious persecution of a Catholic in America in recent history.
With the suspense of a detective novel, FRAMED shares victim-author Tim Schoonard’s incredible true story; chronicling the events surrounding his arrest and criminal prosecution in Keweenaw County, after he was framed for extortion by Ukrainian Catholic Church officials in what was revealed to be an elaborate attempt to cover up misconduct complaints against one of their clergy.
Being betrayed or injured by trusted Church leaders can often lead to blaming the entire Catholic Church for the evil actions of a few. Standing together against overwhelming odds, in a remarkable testimony to faith and family, Tim Schoonard shares his family’s struggles with faith, the long and difficult road to healing, and the decisions they made to stay firmly Catholic.
Against the backdrop of the real-life courtroom drama, FRAMED gives witness to how times like these can reveal for those who seek it, God’s manifest mercy, grace, and blessings in ways we would never expect.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tim Schoonard
• Release date: Apr 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311316516

Tim Schoonard

Tim Schoonard has served as a professional church furniture artisan and design consultant for over 25 years, whose custom artwork is on daily display at dozens of locations across the mid-west. He is a veteran of the United States Army, a published composer and recording artist, and his work or commentary has appeared in several professional publications, as well as his having been interviewed on Catholic Radio.Together with his wife and a dedicated group of clergy and lay professionals, in 2007 he co-founded Latria, a nonprofit organization dedicated to promoting the appreciation for sacred art and the preservation of Christian culture for young people.Tim and Connie, his wife of thirty years, are parents of seven children. He writes from their family farm in Michigan.

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PROLOGUE

PART I – THE SHEEP

PART II – THE WOLVES

PART III – THE PERSECUTION

PART IV – THE AFTERMATH: ESCAPE, HOMECOMING, AND HEALING

PART V – SATAN’S SMOKE?

EPILOGUE

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Prologue

As people read this book, I know there will be some who will scoff at many of the shocking details and say, "Well, there are two sides to every story!" I agree. There are two sides to every story. My persecutors had a chance to tell their side, over and over, in what became hundreds of pages of official record while I never had a chance to speak on my own behalf. This is my side—the other side of the story.

With all of the literal stacks of pages of police investigation reports, court transcripts, letters, and other documents that are a matter of official record, compiled from two-and-a-half years of legal battles, this book could easily have been a true crime documentary, but instead is the recounting of a very personal spiritual journey, that in spite of its incredulous events, I hope the reader may find this work insightful, informative, and inspirational. As God typically does, in times of suffering great persecution for our faith, He leads us on a path of spiritual discovery, allowing us to come to know Him in ways we never have before.

It is my hope, that as a result of the spiritual journey, this book will also be a clear apologetic in defense of the Catholic Church; and as I share my struggles of faith during those dark days, perhaps it will help others to see beyond the pain of injury and doubts so as not to blame or abandon the entire Catholic Church, a gift to all of us from the loving heart of Jesus Christ, for the evil actions of a few.

In sharing my story, I rely on the public record that exists concerning the events, my family, and me personally. Thus, the facts and happenings of this story remain true, in accord with my experience of them.

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus warns us about false prophets. He describes them as wolves in sheep’s clothing, and lets us know they would be known by the fruits of their actions. I guess He knew these false prophets would exist throughout history; and after over 22 years of serving the Church in my apostolate as sacred artist, I thought I had seen everything. However, nothing could have prepared us for the trials and sufferings that awaited us when we encountered a den of those wolves in sheep’s clothing that our Lord warned us about.

Of course, our ancient adversary Satan never rests nor tires of sending his storms of violence and evil against the people of God and His church. The evil one and his minions sow their harvest in insidious and secret ways, often becoming manifest in the actions of people; and sometimes, through a few subversive wolves in sheep’s clothing who use a religious front as an easy way to win the trust of the unsuspecting.

The Catholic Church has gotten a lot of bad press in recent years because of the infiltration of a small number of men bent on evil purposes, who slipped under the wire into the ranks of its clergy. The Catholic Church wasn’t alone in this tragedy, as it had a lot of company amongst the clergy of many other religious denominations, though the former got most of the press. The various events taught us that a few evil men can wreak a lot of havoc, at times overshadowing the selfless work of thousands of devoted priests and religious as well as bringing pain and suffering to God’s holy church and His faithful people of immeasurable proportions.

Though my first reaction was to try to pick up the pieces of my life and put the bad experience behind me, at the request of many, I finally decided to write this book to tell our side of the story and share what happened to my family; and in the best way I can, explain how we felt, what we experienced, and how God was there for us every step of the way, even when it didn’t seem like it.

If our story is never told, I couldn’t share the deep, personal, and profound spiritual journey that transpired. Although it is told from my own faith perspective, I hope it will encourage my fellow Catholics and others who have personally been or know someone who has been harmed in some way, large or small, by a member of the clergy, or other church representative, not to blame the Church herself or blanket blame upon her clergy or members for the independent actions of the guilty parties, no matter how heinous these may have been. The innocent lamb Jesus Christ did not abandon us even to the point of giving His life for us on the cross. In spite of the storm, we shouldn’t abandon Him either. Stand firm in your convictions. Stay true to your faith.

However, when your faith is put to the test and everything you believed is suddenly and forcefully turned upside down and brought to question, what do you do? While each person has to ultimately answer that difficult question for themselves, it is my hope to be able to use this, thankfully, rare and horrific experience to share with the reader what I knew, and what I had, that gave me the strength (though I felt pretty helpless at the time) to endure my suffering and persecution; the questions of faith that arose in my mind and the reasoning I used to persevere in faith and trust, often hanging on by just my fingernails. I became a witness to how times like these can reveal for those who seek it, God’s manifest mercy, grace, and blessings in ways we would never expect.

Let me also be clear to my reader, that this work is not an attempt to make some nostalgic, warm and fuzzy, gee-whiz-let’s-all-shake-hands-and-forget-about-it, soft soap excuse for these despicable men or any others like them. I will make no excuses for this charlatan band of renegade clergy and religious or their Bishop who tried to take my life and destroy my family in an effort to cover up their malevolent actions.

Regrettably, in a twisted sort of way, I owe a debt of gratitude to these monks I once unreservedly called friends and their Bishop, a shepherd who seems to have found it safer for himself to throw the sheep to the wolves instead of doing the job he was entrusted with. If they had not defrauded and attacked my family the way they did, I would never have had the opportunity to meet our Lord on His climb to Calvary -– also betrayed by His own priests -– and be allowed to experience some of the weight of His cross and allowed to walk beside Him a bit of the way. . . .

PART I

The Sheep

Chapter 1

Eight Years Later

January 11, 2010.

I had shown up at my furniture studio at the monastery this day as usual, to find a note from Deacon Barabbas taped to my door and a new time clock he had fastened to the wall of the shop, apparently with some of my tools. On top of the already meager paycheck that had been cut back to 16 hours the week before, the note informed me that from now on, Barabbas would cut a check for me each week, but now he would only be giving me the checks every two weeks, and this was not one of those weeks. There would be no food on our table today. This was not why I had relocated my family and my church furniture business 600 miles.

Only six months after our arrival at Holy Transfiguration Skete [1], the Society of St. John monastery, it became painfully clear that the monks had no intention of following through on anything they promised to induce us to move to their monastery in this remote Michigan wilderness, and I guess that explained why everything had been rapidly falling apart over the last several weeks.

The note also informed me that, even though ever since I had agreed to help the monks out with several construction projects around the monastery as a favor to Father Nicholas, I had set my own hours; designed and engineered the projects; ordered my own materials; completed the projects with my own truck, trailer, and equipment; and gotten everything done well beyond their satisfaction. From now on, I would have to punch the time clock to record my hours, hours I was to spend working with my own machinery that was installed and hard wired to their facility, that the monastery had already been using for free for months. Needless to say, I was in a bit of a quandary over the situation.

The time clock and the note about withholding the paycheck made it clear to me beyond any doubt I could have conceived, that the monks never had any intention of partnering with us in a furniture business, having us be the leaders of their alleged lay Associate program, or working to establish a women’s kitchen, religious order, or Orphanage, as Father Nicholas had so elaborately promised; and what our actual status was always intended to be -– cheap (and often free) labor. Right now, it appeared it had all been smoke and mirrors to deceive us and keep us working to get what they could out of us for their own benefit. In addition, I guess I was expected to provide an entire commercial woodworking facility to them at my expense, just for the privilege of the opportunity.

I spent some time looking around the studio at all of our hard work, reflecting back on how we felt when we first arrived only months ago, and the excitement we had for the future. So many souls we hoped to win for Jesus Christ! If God had truly called us here, as Father Nicholas had told us, it seemed the monks instead had a complete disregard for anything God wanted and were only concerned with their own schemes.

I thought back to when our family first met the monks almost eight years ago, and their invitation that finally brought us here. Sadly, a lot had changed . . . .

Chapter 2

Countdown to Confrontation

September 18, 1982.

My wife Connie and I were married this day before the altar of St. Philip Catholic Church. Next to my being baptized into the Catholic Church less than a year before our marriage, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Thanks be to God. However, the Lord works in mysterious ways; and aside from the full, busy, and wondrous life Connie and I would share together, for us another journey began that would eventually unfold into the life-threatening drama that would take place years in the future on Michigan’s pristine and secluded southern shore of Lake Superior.

At the same time, a few hours distant from that joyous wedding celebration, two men were making plans for their new start. Long-time roommates, Steven Glenn and Peter Paris, both, according to their own description to us, failed, big-city businessmen, were contemplating what new venture they would undertake. They formed a nonprofit organization called the Society of St. John, and the pair set out to acquire land in the remote northern Michigan wilderness, far from the eyes of the world, in hopes of establishing a new monastic undertaking there.

To this clandestine location near Eagle Harbor, Steven Glenn and Peter Paris came, according to what I was told by local residents, standing out from the locals as two businessmen from the big city wearing business suits to acquire a property from which to start their endeavor.

The local community here was made up of closely knit, pioneer mining families that shared both faith and family ties that spanned back for generations. These were a people who were accustomed to looking out for each other, especially during the harsh winters that hammered the region. Always cautious of the motives of outsiders, we were told, few of the local residents would entertain their offers. Finally, according to the monastery’s published history, Glenn and Paris were successful in cutting a deal on what was once a small group of resort cabins on the Lake Superior shore. In 1983, they set up operations near Eagle Harbor.

Apparently, according to what was shared with us by local residents and corroborated by monastery publications, shortly after finding this spot, they shed their business suits, put on some new blue jeans and flannel shirts and started posing for photographs. Not long after that, the jeans disappeared, and they were now seen in hooded religious robes and informed those they encountered that they were now monks; and the property they just bought was now a monastery. I guess they never checked with the local officials to see if it was permissible to do such a thing in the location they had selected, a mistake that would come back to haunt us all for various reasons down the road.

Little did any of us know that all of these lives were on a collision course that would intersect some twenty years later.

Chapter 3

Our Family Mission: Taking Care of God’s House

I am a liturgical furniture artisan and design consultant. In layman’s terms, I design and build custom church furniture for churches and architects and at times advise and consult our clients on design matters. The work affords many opportunities for evangelization and for my passion of bringing people closer to Jesus Christ through sacred art.

I began my formal woodworking education at age 10 in my grandfather’s workshop. Following in the footsteps of a family woodworking tradition that can be traced to 1894, what began in our basement in 1983 as a simple workbench comprising a wood plank set across the seats of two dining room chairs, eventually grew over time into our liturgical furniture business Marywood Studio.

I owe a lot to Rob Bower, a Priest, I met along the way. Father Rob had just taken over as pastor of the local church where I went daily on my lunch hour to pray to God and for intercession to Our Lady for guidance on my life’s direction. After about six months of prayer vigil [2] Father Rob’s arrival seemed no mere chance. This humble priest, endeared to many by his holiness, wit, and wisdom, soon became my mentor, advocate, patron, and friend. He helped me to begin to see to what God may be calling me. After we had raised the courage to take the leap of faith and leave behind the security and successes of my position in industrial management, he helped me find several of our first commissions that set us on our way. I told God that if in His goodness, He would let me do what I loved for my living then I only wanted to do it for Him. My work became mission. My mission became taking care of God’s house.

Over more than two decades, that work led Marywood Studio to work in some way on over forty worship spaces in thirty-two cities in three states, most of them several times over. From cathedrals to poor missions, our projects were diverse and all over the place. Some clients paid us in full up front, sometimes later, and at one poor mission parish, the Sisters even paid us with several bags of groceries. God saw to it we always had what was needed. We travelled a lot. One time, a client put us up at the Hilton, but more often than not, we slept on the floor or couch of an empty rectory or convent. But, God saw to it we always had what was needed.

While on the road with one particular project while our children were still young, we decided to give homeschooling a try. Through this, we were able to integrate our family work, spiritual journey, and education into a common activity. We were free to answer God’s call to the work, and God was free to form us all through the work as well.

Chapter 4

A Family That Prays Together . . .

One particular event that was significant on our journey, without a doubt formed and strengthened us in ways that would sustain us later in our confrontation with the monks of the Society of St. John, happened after working on a Detroit area church. One night, Connie had a dream. In the dream, our family was sitting in a pew in a church. She saw close-up, so to speak, a set of Rosary beads falling to the floor. Then she watched as a hand reached down to pick them up. When she looked again and saw whose hand it was, she saw that it was Jesus, who had come down off from the cross to gather up the beads. With his crown of thorns and bleeding wounds, in this dream Our Lord walked over and spoke to her, then handed her the Rosary.

Discerning from this profound dream, an invitation to devote ourselves more intently to the prayer of the Holy Rosary, we soon began saying the Rosary together as a family. We first started out doing it often, unless Connie and I were busy and had to be somewhere in the evening or were working late. Then something unusual happened. Our seven children, the oldest at the time being only thirteen, had become so inspired by the family prayer that they came to us with the request that we pray the Rosary together every day. From then on, late at night, early in the morning, on the road, or on the jobsite, whatever was required, we dedicated ourselves to the daily family Rosary. That was 16 years ago, and now, nearly 52,560 Rosaries later, this daily family prayer ritual has been a source of indescribable grace for us, and no doubt would be a major factor strengthening us during the vicious persecutions to which we would later be subjected by the monks of the Society of St. John.

Lessons in Perseverance and Trust

Thus, our liturgical art work became the vessel of a most unusual spiritual journey for our entire family. As it typically is for anyone who makes a radical commitment to follow Jesus Christ, no matter their status in life, it can be expected to be a way of the cross. Over the years, there have been many ups and downs, prosperities and poverties, good times and bad. God often tests our faith through trials and difficulties and rewards our perseverance.

As a matter of fact, I gave testimony to this in a newspaper interview where I was asked to comment on Pope John Paul II’s Letter to Artists:

"It seems to me that God forms the Sacred Artist through time, effort, triumph, and adversity. Over time, we learn patience and skill. Through effort, we learn to push past our perceived limitations. Through triumph, we gain confidence by accomplishing things we never dreamed we could, and through adversity – the most generous share of our formation – He teaches humility, increases our faith and trust in Him, and tests our resolve and commitment to the work."

When I said that in the interview in 2003, I had no idea what our resolve and commitment to the work would lead us to.

Chapter 5

Friendly First Encounter

We first met the monks of St. John in August of 2002. While planning a family camping trip to Michigan’s Porcupine Mountain Wilderness State Park to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary, we had learned of a new monastery church being constructed a few hours’ drive west of Marquette and then north on the Keweenaw Peninsula’s Lake Superior shores. We contacted the local Roman Catholic Diocese to get some background information on the monastic community, but since the monastery had no connection to their Diocese, there was little they could tell us. Always game for a new spiritual adventure and opportunities to further our church furniture business, we sent out some literature to this mysterious monastery in the wilderness and made arrangements through a Father Basil to visit while on our vacation.

We met the monks that August. Clad in long, black-hooded robes bound at the waist with heavy leather belts, sporting tight fitting skullcaps, and full, chest-length beards, they appeared more like friendly elves than anything else. Father Basil and I hit it off pretty well, and talked at length about the beautiful and historic Byzantine liturgical traditions and the needs and structures of their new monastic church that was starting to have the walls erected. At this time, the monastic community included Father Basil; Father Nicholas, who was the Hegumen or Superior, both Catholic priests; Brother Barabbas, and the novice Brother Sergius. Our first meeting was very cordial, and we were invited to join the monks for Vespers prayer, and because of our long journey back to our campsite, to stay for supper.

Father Basil informed us of their dilemma that there were no funds available for any liturgical art pieces, but they had hoped a donation might make it possible. A few months later, our family would feel inspired to donate the final designs and massive undertaking of building their iconostasis for their monastery church.

Introduction to the Ukrainian Catholic Byzantine Church

We enjoyed very much the chance to experience the Eastern rite prayer; and over supper, we were told much about the monastery and its history by Hegumen Nicholas. Father Nicholas’ flowery tale, elaborated how he and longtime roommate Peter Paris were suddenly and miraculously called, both at the same time, from being failed businessmen to monks on their journey to this wilderness region. Here, they started a bakery called the Jampot, being bailed out of financial disaster time and time again by the generosity of others. After 11 years of being rejected as a monastery by the Roman Catholic Church, how, as they told it, miraculous apparitions of the Blessed Mother Mary directed them to a new Byzantine Catholic Bishop, who was so taken in by them that without even sending them to the seminary [3] a short time thereafter, ordained both Glenn and Paris to the Catholic priesthood as Father Nicholas and Father Basil respectively, and how Father Nicholas now lamented of the suspected demon that he often saw as a dark, faceless and hooded figure in black that would stand by his bed and hover over him, always watching.

Nicholas shared with us how after nearly 12 years of no growth, he and Basil were finally joined by Will Lye [4] who later became the Deacon monk Barabbas. Several years later Andrew Chandler entered the ranks as Brother Sergius.

In the Shadow of Good

We were very taken in by the monks and their stories. Over time Nicholas added new stories of how the icons in the church would light up and communicate with him; that he had become a visionary and mystic, and new alleged Marian apparitions, supposedly seen by several people in the monastic church, spoke of miraculous waters that existed on the site. After working with clergy for over 22 years, and studying the lives of the saints, it all seemed plausible coming from a Catholic Priest who was the co-founder of a monastery. We had absolutely no reason to suspect Father Nicholas was not telling the truth. Even the monks would all sigh, smile, and nod their heads together in unison as he told his stories. It truly seemed, at least from our minimal contact each year, the monastery newsletters, and our other communications with the monks that good things were going on there at the Society of St. John’s Holy Transfiguration monastery.

A Mutually Beneficial Relationship Grows

We developed a personal, business, and spiritual relationship with the Society of St. John over the next seven years that found us making annual weekend retreats and contributing more than $20,000 to the monastery in sacred art projects. One in particular was the Iconostasis for the new monastic church.

In the ancient Byzantine Catholic tradition, a wall or screen is set up between the people and the altar. There are doors that are opened and closed at different times during the celebration and the Iconostasis also serves as a place to hang religious icons or paintings of Christ, the Blessed Mother, and particular saints. The project was a huge undertaking for our studio, a majestic piece of woodcraft spanning 24 feet long across the sanctuary and standing 10 feet tall, constructed of rare and elegant native woods and inlaid with 23 carat gold hand-made Byzantine glass mosaics. The Society of St. John provided the material money, and our studio spent over three months constructing the piece. When it was finished, we packed up the entire wall and half of our shop into our delivery trailer and hauled everything hundreds of miles to Eagle Harbor to spend several days installing the work into the new church.

The monks too reciprocated in generosity by occasional support of our mission endeavors as well as commissions for some other art projects over the years. We truly felt that we were taking part in something historical and special that in time would bring many people closer to Jesus Christ. Our family travelled many times to participate in every major celebration the monastery held, and we unreservedly called the monks of St. John some of our closest and most trusted friends.

Chapter 6

The Monk’s Invitation

May 10, 2009.

We had travelled to the monastery to attend the consecration ceremony of Isaiah Richards, the newest monk. On Sunday, after Divine Liturgy (the same as the Mass in the Roman Church) Father Nicholas approached our family and was so excited he could hardly speak. He wanted all of us to join him in the monastery library because he said he had something to tell us.

Nicholas Unveils the Revelation of the Holy Spirit

Gathered in the library, our family waited patiently as Nicholas pulled up a chair at the end of the room. He explained that two days earlier, during the consecration ceremony of Isaiah Richards as Brother Ephrem, the Holy Spirit had come upon him. Nicholas said that the Holy Spirit had overwhelmed him, and that there was so much to tell us that all that came to mind was a shotgun, so he was just going to spit it all out.

In hushed tones, Nicholas went on to explain that the Holy Spirit had told him to tell us that we should move our family and business to the Keweenaw, where we could join with the monastery in a new venture.

Nicholas said that he and Basil had been discussing the idea for over a year to establish a lay organization connected to the monastery that they had hoped someday would evolve into a new lay tertiary order attached to the Society of St. John. For now they would call it the Associate program that would be a contemporary version of the historical model of medieval monasteries where artisans and craftsmen and their families would come to live and work on monastery lands. A portion of the money earned by each enterprise included would go to the support of the monastery expansion, and the rest to the support of each individual artisan and respective families, and the Associates would participate in the liturgical prayer and spiritual life of the monastery, molded on the Rule of St. Benedict.

Both Nicholas and Basil had felt because they had known us to be devout and pious and to possess an extensive knowledge of the faith, that my wife and I could lead the new Associate program and help and guide both the monks and any new families that would come to participate to adjust to the ebb and flow of life at the monastery.

As part of being Associates of