YOU SAY?
	How should the Catholic church deal with the problem of sexual abuse? E-mail your response to: letters@ajc.com. All responses received by 5 p.m. today will be considered for publication Thursday.

At the time, I was 11 years old. Every week I helped in the church office, sorting collection envelopes. The priest -- a handsome, charismatic man -- liked to French kiss me, backing me into a space he'd partitioned off within the office. My girlfriends and I burned with excited shame whenever the priest's name was mentioned.

Like many young, sexually abused persons, we were very confused -- we enjoyed the attention of an important man, but sensed it was wrong. Of course, we didn't associate the wrongness with him. After all, he was a man of God.

When the priest's activities finally came to light, the Order to which he belonged wrote letters to our parents requesting they keep quiet. No action was taken to remove him from office.

Years later, I was visiting an old friend when she happened to mention, with that old embarrassment, that Father C had celebrated Mass consecrating the new church in his old parish.

By then I was an ordained minister myself. I knew how inappropriate it would be for any known sex offender to be officiating in a ceremony where his victims might be present. Surely there was a mistake -- those in charge of the parish couldn't be aware of what this man had done. Imagine my dismay when I went to the current parish priest. He not only knew about about the transgressions but also spent an hour trying to convince me I should forget the whole thing.

About 10 years ago, I confronted Father C.

Looking much older than I remembered, he recognized me immediately. "You were always such a cuddly little girl," he reminisced. I shared my memory of what happened, but he insisted his kisses were merely affectionate. When I asserted that forcing his tongue in my mouth was a sexual act, his expression suggested it never occurred to him he'd done anything the least bit improper.

For more than an hour, I outlined how his behavior had impacted my emotional and spiritual life. As our time grew short, he conceded that unwittingly, he might have caused me harm and even showed a hint of remorse.

But then, as I was ready to leave, he brightened. "At least," he said, "I'm not like those priests you read about in the newspapers." Puzzled, I said, "In what way are you different?" "Well," he replied, "I never did anything with little boys."

A recent TV report on Father John Geoghan's trial in Boston suggested that his alleged deviancy goes against all the tenets of the Catholic religion. I would argue, however, that it is the very tenets of Catholicism that are responsible for it.

Many priests have never had any normal sexual contact -- the priest who molested me promised his dying mother he'd become a priest when he was only 15. Compounding this sort of dubiously motivated, church-required celibacy is a male-dominated hierarchy that disallows women from full participation in the church.

It's surprising we don't hear more about the abuse of women and children by sexist clergy. But, then, with the good job this newly horrified Vatican intends to do with its secret tribunals, we wouldn't be likely to.