Instead of responding appropriately, U.S. Catholic cardinals have outlined a weak policy for dealing with priests who have committed sexual abuse.

Any and all priests who have committed sexual abuse should be removed formally from the Catholic Church and turned over to the criminal courts.

There cannot be any compromises, warnings or second chances. These priests have sexually assaulted children who trusted them as a servant of God – their positions as clergy should not serve as a cloak protecting them from the law.

Some would argue with this stance, saying that perhaps such a policy is too harsh. Would this argument be made for anyone other than priests? Would such a policy be too harsh if these men were teachers? Or police officers? Or any other authority figures whose very titles lead children to trust them? Can you imagine a debate raging over whether a school board was too harsh when they decided to fire a sexually abusive teacher? The decision to permanently remove these priests should not be debated. The pain that these men have inflicted on the children they abuse is not debatable.

A priest at my hometown parish sexually abused dozens of my grade-school classmates. It occurred at a time when such a revelation, while definitely shocking, was not a part of a national trend. Instead, our parish seemingly had the one bad apple of the bunch. This bad apple assaulted young boys with reckless abandon. Over 30 of my peers silently carried this secret for years before the scandal was finally revealed. They still carry the wounds from the abuse, and even if those wounds ever heal, the scars will forever remind them of the hell they endured.

How could this be? This was a man I had liked and trusted. This feeling of deception and betrayal ran rampant throughout the entire community. Families had welcomed this man into their lives, never fathoming the pain he would inflict. There was even an instant when I doubted the allegations. Then, everything became so clear to me. I finally understood what had been causing the cloud of silence and depression that had slowly enveloped my grade school. It became painfully clear why so many of my classmates and friends had become withdrawn and distant, depressed and tormented. Young men thrust into a world of suffering, deceived by the man they trusted most.

With the betrayal finally revealed, the youth of even those not abused was consumed. I watched my classmates struggling to recover, finally aware of their secret. Over 30 boys within two years of my age were sexually assaulted – my basketball teammates, my science project partners, my closest friends.

Anyone who wishes to give sexually abusive priests a second chance at another parish with different, trusting children should see a sexually abused 12-year-old struggle through every day of his young life, the weight of his misfortune almost too much to bear.

They should see the pain in the eyes of a young man with a knife to his wrist, thinking his life is hopeless and not worth enduring anymore, even though he’s only 13 years old.

They should feel the utter humiliation that took away my friend’s voice as he struggled to tell his father a priest molested him, the same humiliation that makes it hard for him to look his parents in the eyes to this day.

They should experience the undeserved shame felt by another young man in our class when he had to recount before a courtroom packed with his family and dozens of his classmates every detail of the assaults, describing how he was violated.

These young men were torn to pieces. Some are still fighting the haunting memories and battling the deathly depression that too often follows. Others are still trying to learn to trust people again.

All have a soft spot that no one will ever get near, an area of their heart and soul that has been forever closed off.

So yeah, maybe we should give sexually abusive priests another chance. After all, they only screwed up once… or twice… or thirty times. But they are priests, servants of God. We’ll just let them off with a stern warning this time.

Yeah, maybe we should let these priests have a second chance – as soon as we find a way to give their victims a second chance to live a childhood free of pain and to experience a life where joy is more than an unattainable goal.

Dustin Kass

is a junior in journalism

and mass communications from Dubuque.