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This is the homily delivered by Bishop Howard J. Hubbard at a healing prayer service Feb. 17 at Our Lady of the Annunciation parish in Queensbury, in the wake of former priest Gary Mercure's conviction for the sexual abuse of children.

I am very grateful to each of you for your presence this evening as we have come in prayer and in solidarity with the children and minors who have been abused sexually by the clergy of our Diocese. We also pray for their family members.

While, unfortunately, this reprehensible sin and crime occurs everywhere, this parish of Our Lady of the Annunciation has been devastated especially by this heinous abuse. And so it seems appropriate that we gather here this evening.

First, let me acknowledge that over the years, I along with the rest of our Church and society have learned particularly hard lessons about how much we misunderstood, misapprehended, underestimated and failed to confront candidly this problem of the sexual abuse of children.

We recognized it as evil, but somehow believed it was isolated - a matter of individual failure, and not a widespread problem.

Thus, while I have always treated allegations of clergy sexual abuse seriously, never ignored or dismissed them and tried to deal with them promptly and appropriately, with more information and experience it became clear that we needed to better address the needs of victims and today, I believe, we have a better process.

In particular, in the earlier period of my 34-year episcopacy, along with many others, I did not appreciate fully the long-term tragic effects of sexual abuse on victims and their families, and the corresponding need of the Church to be more proactive in bringing healing into their lives. For this I apologize.

Scripture tells us that there are some evils which can only be driven out by prayer. I believe that sexual abuse of minors by clergy is one. There are, of course, safeguards we can take, and indeed, the Church has taken, to address this issue: for example,

• better screening for those entering formation and the seminary;

• strict adherence of reporting promptly abuse to criminal authorities;

• background checks and safe environment training for adults who work with children and adolescents;

• safety training for children and youth; and

• sharing with parents ways to discuss this issue with their sons and daughters.

And certainly all of us, in accord with the scriptural exhortation I just cited, can pray for prevention, intervention and healing.

So it is with heartfelt and fervent prayer that we come before the Lord tonight to lament the violation of sacred trust committed by priests and deacons, to ask healing for the victims and their families who have been traumatized by this egregious offense of child sexual abuse, and for all within our faith community who have been so devastated by this scandal.

In my reflection this evening, I draw upon Exodus 3:7, where the Lord says, "I have heard the groans of my people."

As the theologian Rev. Bryan Massingale has suggested, a groan, by definition, is inarticulate. It is a cry of deep distress or pain that does not always reveal its source or cause.

Groans, the inarticulate cries of people's distress, are the indisputable signs which announce, "All is not well! Something is terribly wrong! This is not how God wants things to be."

So tonight we hear the groans of all the victims, and especially those of clergy sexual abuse: people who, in the innocence of their youth, were preyed upon by the ordained whom they were taught to respect and revere - men who share the sacred priesthood of Jesus Christ and who are upheld as role models and wisdom figures in our Catholic Christian community; people who are ordained to be a source of moral, spiritual and pastoral guidance.

Yet these men betrayed the trust with which they were endowed, and abused children and adolescents entrusted to their care. Not only are there the sickening acts of sexual abuse which victims endured, be it one time or in a serial fashion, but the deep emotional wounds and trauma that this violent abuse causes, which, if not treated, can lead to life-long problems with trust, intimacy and sexuality.

I have heard firsthand from victims of sexual abuse how the severe trauma they suffered often resulted in low self-esteem, free-floating anger and the inability to trust, which made it difficult to maintain close relationships with family and others.

Many dulled that pain with alcohol and substance abuse. Many experienced depression and the loss of motivation for education or career advancement. Perhaps the most pernicious wound of all was the loss of faith or their rejection of God whom they felt had abandoned them.

These victim groans often emanate from the fear of telling anyone else because they may not be believed; because they may be punished themselves or because they were threatened by their victimizer that to reveal "the secret" might result in dire consequences.

Or these groans may arise from the feelings of guilt that they, the victims, must have done something to invite the abuse; or these victim groans may be attributable to a sense of shame and embarrassment that this happened to them, making them feel permanently violated and unclean.

Tonight, we hear these agonizing groans and pray that those who have had the courage to come forward may receive the emotional assistance and spiritual support they need for healing so that they can reclaim broken dreams and shattered lives.

We pray also that those who continue to harbor the pain of victimization in silence may find the strength to tell their story and break the vicious cycle of victimization.

There are also the groans of parents of victims and their family members who may feel they have been complicit in the abuse inflicted upon their son or daughter, brother or sister, by encouraging the relationship with a presumably trustworthy adult; by welcoming this person into their home and by assuming that this figure of stature in the faith community would be a positive and beneficial influence.

How could they have been so naive? How could they have failed to recognize something might be amiss? Why was their son or daughter inhibited from sharing with them the abuse that had occurred? What could have been done differently? What responsibility do they bear for the harm their beloved family member endured?

The answer, of course, is that these parents and family members were betrayed themselves; that they had every right to expect that their family member would be safe, especially in the presence of a priest or deacon.

Yet these questions plague many parents and family members of victims - to say nothing of the anger, hurt and pain they experience knowing that their most precious treasure was sexually abused and traumatized so brutally by a member of the clergy.

Also, let us not forget the groans of the family members and friends of the perpetrators who are bewildered and heartbroken as well by this inexplicable behavior.

With regard to the evil of sexual abuse by members of the clergy, there are also the groans of the laity: How could this happen? How could men of God be doing the work of the devil? How could bishops be more concerned about avoiding scandal and preserving the image of the Church than protecting children?

How can they continue to be part of the faith community where this evil was able to fester for so long a time without being detected or seeing the light of day? What role did clericalism play in this tragedy? What would have happened if laypeople, mothers and fathers, were responsible for responding to those who came forward rather than celibate clergy? Why should they continue to minister or volunteer in a Church that has failed them so miserably by this scandal?

Yes, our laity love the Eucharist. They cherish the sacraments and traditions of the Church: the weddings, the baptisms, the first communions, confirmations, reconciliation services and burial rituals. They admire the moral compass and spiritual insights that the Church offers through its schools, colleges and faith formation programs, and the services to the poor, sick, vulnerable, marginalized and powerless which the Church provides through its parishes, Catholic Charities agencies and healthcare institutions.

But they lament that this same Church, the Body of Christ on earth, has violated the very message it proclaims about the sacred dignity and unique worth of each person through the abuse of its most vulnerable and by its misjudgments about how to root out what Pope Benedict XIV has called "the filth in the Church."

And so the laity groan, feeling confused, misled and deceived.

Finally, there are the groans of the faithful priests who feel that their image has been tarnished grievously by the misconduct of a few; who may think they were sold out by the nation's bishops in Dallas when we approved a zero-tolerance policy; who fear that they are just one phone call away from a false allegation and the irreparable damage such an accusation can mean; who wonder whether anyone will come forward to replace them given the damage the scandal has done to the priesthood.

The feelings of many priests were expressed poignantly by our chancellor, Rev. Kenneth Doyle, in a recent op-ed piece. He writes: "I am ashamed and saddened and above all I am angry. Why am I ashamed, since nothing I did myself led to this tragedy? I am ashamed because someone in my own family of faith - a brother priest, no less - would commit these acts of cruelty. And I am deeply saddened because this whole sordid saga has damaged deeply the family of faith, the Catholic Church that I love."

Father Doyle emotes further: "Most of all, I am angry - angry at what has been done to children. I am well aware that darkness is part of the psyche of us all, that temptation surrounds us, that our resolve is frail and we easily can fail. But abusing a child is a different thing entirely."

We gather tonight, then, in the throes of these groans and so many other cries of distress which tell us "that something is not right."

What are we to do, then? Where do we turn? Whom are we to trust?

Quite frankly, I don't have facile answers. I know we are in a crisis. I know we are in pain. I know we are in need of healing.

But I also know that Jesus has assured us, "Do not be afraid; I am with you always until the end of time." And Jesus does not renege on His promises.

Further, I am heartened by the insights of [Dominican theologian] Rev. Timothy Radcliffe, who reminds us that the Church was born in crisis. He notes: "The archetypical Christian community was the Last Supper. Think what a dismal failure that community was! One of the disciples sold Jesus; another went on to deny Him, and the rest ran away. Jesus failed to gather them into a community on that last night (after three years of intensive formation), so we should not be surprised that we have done no better in forming a perfect community of disciples than He did."

Yes, as Father Radcliffe suggests, the Last Supper is our foundational story, the story of God's covenant with us and with all. The paradox of this story is that our community was founded just at the moment it was in the process of breaking up.

And that has been true down through the course of Christian history: before Pentecost, in the persecution of the early Church, during the fall of the Roman Empire and the emergence of the Dark Ages, from the time of the Reformation to the collapse of the papal states and the modernist controversy and now in the face of the present crisis of trust and confidence created by the clergy sexual abuse scandals.

And just as at the Last Supper the moment of betrayal and shame became a moment of gift and grace, the present challenges also can be ones of rejuvenation.

In conclusion, let me recall the scriptural passage from the Book of Revelation which was read a few moments ago:

"See, the home of God is among mortals.

"He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more.

"The one who is seated on the throne said, 'See, I am making all things new.' Also he said, 'I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give waters as a gift from the spring of the water of life. Those who conquer will inherit these things and I will be their God and they will be my children.'"

May this vision be the hope and consolation flowing from our prayer this evening.[[In-content Ad]]

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