I have been reading a disturbing book titled Jesus Wept: Seven Popes and the Battle for the Soul of the Catholic Church by Philip Shenon. Shenon studies the ongoing battle between progressive and conservative Catholics, made more intense by the impact of Catholics on the election of Donald Trump. Shenon’s book portrays the humanness of the Church to include the corruption of power at all levels. Shenon also pays paricular attention to the evolution of the clergy abuse scandal, making it clear that all Popes since Paul VI knew of the problem with clergy abuse and did little to intervene.

This reading has overlapped with a question I was recently asked: “How has the clergy abuse scandal impacted you as a Catholic?” It is a question that merits all Catholics’ attention. For me, it has been a journey with, it turns out, some old roots.

When I was 16 years old, I was planning to become a priest. I was invited by an order to which I was applying to visit their seminary. I roomed with a seminarian. During the night, I woke up to find him trying to molest me. I yelled “What the f–k are you doing?”, apparently scaring him off.

I never told the vocations director and really just set the incident aside. I didn’t think it affected me very much.

In the late 1980s, a client asked me if I would see her son for an evaluation. He had been molested by a priest named David Holley, who, it turns out, had been sent to the Southwest after multiple accusations of child molesting back in the diocese of Boston. She also recommended I read a book titled Lead Us Not into Temptation by Jason Berry. This book examined a case of clergy sexual abuse in Louisiana. It was my introduction to the reality of clergy sexual abuse.

I looked into what the Diocese of El Paso was doing about this issue and found out that they were doing nothing. I wrote to all the Catholic mental health professionals I could think of asking if they would be willing to help the then Bishop in formulating a response to the issue of clergy abuse, which, it turns out, was very much a part of the El Paso church. I wrote to 40 professionals and 39 expressed a willingness to help. I then presented all this to the Bishop, in essence forcing a response. A committee was established to investigate reports of clergy abuse. I was not invited to participate. Eventually, given my involvement with victims of clergy abuse to include assisting some who were suing the diocese, I was judged to be “an enemy of the church” and church officials were encouraged not to do business with me.

The next Bishop tried to mend fences and invited me to participate on that same committee. I became disillusioned over the diocesan response to one case and resigned. That same day I was contacted by a local news channel doing a story on clergy abuse to include an examination of the David Holley case. At the conclusion of the interview I said that I feared my Church was dying, generating negative blowback from the diocese that apparently lasted for several years.

I continued to treat victims of clergy abuse, many of whom were very courageous people trying to heal from devastating trauma, to include spiritual trauma. With some of these victims, it became clear that earlier bishops in El Paso knew of abuse but had looked the other way.

When I saw the film Spotlight it was like a punch in the stomach when the name of David Holley was mentioned. At the end of the film, cities with credible cases of clergy abuse were listed. I expected to see El Paso listed, which it was. I did not expect to see my hometown of Scranton Pa.

Shortly after, the state of Pennsylvania published a list of credible cases. One name stood out — Fr. Robert Gibson. Fr. Gibson had been a parish priest in our parish. He had been kind to me, choosing me to teach younger altar boys, helping me find a summer job. I wondered then and wonder now if he was grooming me.

So how has this affected my journey as a Catholic? I have had moments of anger. All of us pubescent boys and girls would fear confessing very normal acts, expecting judgment which we sometimes received. When I came to see that more than half of priests were sexually active with others and that many more practiced masturbation, I resented the guilt that had been implanted around sexuality. I found myself angry at the Church’s position on homosexuality, having learned that a significant percentage of priests were gay. I came to see that my own guilt-ridden sexuality needed healing.

I also came to see how human the Catholic Church is. I came to see the temptation of power as it permeates the Church. I came to see how power has motivated judgment and condemnation of St. John XXIII, the Pope who tried to move the Church from a position of judgment to a position of mercy. The Aftermath of his program Vatican II has revealed a powerful conservative element of the Church, an element unwilling to share their power.

A positive impact of the crisis was that it challenged me to reflect on what if anything about Catholicism still had meaning for me. That in turn helped me see that among other things I still value the sacraments. I also embraced the long Catholic tradition of mysticism. And my friendship with a handful of priests, all very good men, helped me see that healthy priestly service was possible.

The crisis also in many ways brought me to a different relationship with Jesus. As I reread the Gospels, I realized that modern Christianity to include Catholicism is far afield from what Jesus had in mind. And yet the efforts of St. John XXIII, the courageous leadership of martyrs like St. Oscar Romero, the courageous dissidence of people like Dorothy Day Lewis and Daniel Berrigan, much less the loving service of several of the priests whom I call friend indicate to me that living the life that Jesus preached is still possible.

Almost 25 years ago I wrote an article for America magazine titled “My Church Is Dying”. I believed then that sometimes we have to die to something to be redeemed. I believe in many ways my Church is still dying. Yet I still also believe that a rebirth more consistent with Jesus’ teachings is possible. It will require voices willing to challenge those who covet power. It will require voices willing to challenge the increasingly powerful ultra-conservative right wing of the Church.

What then of the attempted molesting some 60 years ago? Well, I find it amusing and a little reflective of the more colorful aspects of my own journey that I invoked the F-bomb in a seminary! I don’t think I was traumatized but I was also nowhere near being able to see that the Catholic Church has a dark side. Now I know it.

Recommended: Lead Us Not Into Temptation by Jason Berry

Jesus Wept by Phillip Shenon

Betrayal: The Crisis in the Catholic Church by the investigative team of the Boston Globe. The story is more disturbing than the movie Spotlight which is based on the Boston Globe team’s work.

If you are so inclined, pass this on.