Not so long ago, Pope Francis asked priest abuse victims for forgiveness.
Yet how do those of us, whom were raped and had our souls stolen from us, whom committed suicide because of it, can give him forgiveness, or any of us so harmed, when he refuses to clean house of all the Cardinals, Bishops and Archbishops whom covered up these evil crimes and are still sitting in the positions that they are in?
How can Paul Anthony Carson, whom upon seeing the priest whom raped him walking down the street and then going home and hanging himself, being found by his parents, forgive him?
How can Emma Foster, whom was raped by Father Kevin O’Donnell, while at a primary school whom committed suicide because of it, forgive him?
How can Daniel Neill, whom committed suicide because of his rapist priest, Joseph Gallagher, forgive him?
How can the 30 boys raped at the St Alipius primary school, whom committed suicide forgive him for their rapes?
How can David M. Jarboe Jr. whom stepped into the parking lot of downtown Owensboro’s Blessed Mother Catholic Church and because of his horror from his priest rape, blew his brains out, forgive him?
How can the 40 suicide victims of another parish in Victoria Australia forgive him?
Or the thirteen victims of priest rape whom committed suicide in Belgium forgive him?
Or the thousands of others, whom committed suicide, because of their rapes and soul tortures by their pedophile priests forgive him?
How can the parents and relatives of these children, ever forgive him? Whom lost their child, due to the brutal rapes and soul destruction of them.
How can the parents of Paul Anthony Carson, whom cut him down, and were devastated forgive him? Or any of the other parents?
None of them can. Matter of fact, they are supposedly in hell, burning for all eternity, because the pain and suffering brought on by their rapes by Roman Catholic priests, committed suicide, which the RC teaches that if you do commit suicide, then you will burn in hell for eternity. I don’t believe they are. I believe they are in Paradise, free from all of their suffering, at peace and filled with light and love. They are the true Angels, the Guardians, the Protectors of us still here.
The horror, the suffering, the pain, of those of us, whom were raped, whom had our souls stolen from us, whom then were continually brutalized by the leaders of the church, whom told us we were to blame for our rapes, that we seduced their priests, that because we did not punch our rapist priests in the face, that meant we not only wanted to be raped, we enjoyed our rapes and we are homosexuals because of it, with all the connotations that goes along with that evil declaration against us, have driven many of us to kill ourselves. Or that we should consider our rapes as gifts from God, or many other equally disgusting insults thrown at us by those leaders whom are supposed to help us heal.
In my opinion, the Roman Catholic Church, from Pope Francis, to the Cardinals such as Timothy Dolan, Donald Wuerl, Roger Mahony, Bernard Law, John Niedstedt, and many others, Bishops and Archbishops, are just as responsible, not only for the rapes of these men and women, but also for the suicides of these victims. They drove many to commit suicide over what they said about us, and that makes them as responsible for these suicide deaths as if they pulled the triggers themselves. You do not insult, nor you do not blame the victims of rape for their rapes.
No Pope Francis, until you do what you have promised us you would do. Clean house, stop fighting us victims when we seek justice for the crimes committed against us, with the church lawyers getting our cases dismissed using the statues of limitations.
When Parishioners start caring more about us, their very children of the church, whom were raped and brutalized, and many of you turned your backs on your own children, because you would rather support the leaders of your churches, over your very own children.
When people stand up and demand that the disgusting attacks against us, like Bill Donohue of the Catholic League, whom claims we seduced our priests, whom claims because we did not punch our rapist priests in the face when they were raping us, thereby, we not only wanted to be raped, we enjoyed our rapes and we are homosexuals because of it.
Then maybe, we will find it to forgive you all. We cannot do so, until all of you, truly repent, and start standing up for us, instead of those whom so harmed us.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks about rape.
LIFE IN CHRIST
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS
“YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF”
THE SIXTH COMMANDMENT
II The Vocation to Chastity:
Offenses Against Chastity
2356: Rape is the forcible violation of the sexual intimacy of another person. It does injury to justice and charity. Rape deeply wounds the respect, freedom, and physical and moral integrity to which every person has a right. It causes grave damage that can mark the victim for life. It is always an intrinsically evil act. Graver still is the rape of children committed by parents (incest) or those responsible for the education of the children entrusted to them.
Start living up to your Catechism teachings. Start standing up for your sons and daughters whom had their lives devastated by a pedophile priest of this church. How many more of your children must die? How many more of your children will commit suicide before you finally wake up and realize that YOU MUST stand up for your own children over the Pope, Cardinals, Bishops and Archbishops of the Roman Catholic Church?
How many more parents are going to come home and find their child dead because of this evil?
The church protected this priest who admitted
offences against children
Broken Rites Australia helps victims of church-related
By a Broken Rites researcher
- Article updated 17 February 2012
This is a classic case-study in how the Catholic Church authorities in Australia harboured a priest, despite complaints about him being a danger to children.
In one parish of the Armidale diocese in northern New South Wales in the 1980s, altar boys complained that they were being sexually abused by a certain priest (let us call him Father XYZ). But the two leaders of this diocese — Bishop Henry Kennedy and Monsignor Frank Ryan — protected this priest, helping him to avoid a criminal conviction.
Privately, Father XYZ admitted that he had indeed been committing sexual acts upon children. Later the church was forced to begin paying compensation to some of these former altar boys.
The former altar boys said that their lives were damaged not only by the abuse but also by the church’s cover-up and the code of silence.
Eventually two of the former altar boys (Damian and Daniel) no longer wished to continue living, and they died at the age of 28, each of them leaving two young children. Damian and Daniel did not know each other (they were from different parishes) but their tragic stories are remarkably similar.
Father XYZ grew up in Armidale and attended school there. When he was a young adult, he was recruited by Bishop Henry Kennedy to go to a New South Wales seminary to be trained for the priesthood.
After being ordained, Father XYZ belonged specifically to the Armidale diocese and normally he would be expected to spend his career in the parishes of this diocese.
The Armidale diocese comprised about 30 parishes in a vast rural area. The biggest town in the diocese is Tamworth. The town of Armidale is merely where the bishop is located — at the Cathedral of St Mary and St Joseph, Armidale. Tamworth and Armidale are prominently located on the New England Highway. Further inland are outlying towns such as Moree and Narrabri.
Bishop Henry Kennedy and Monsignor Frank Ryan were significant figures in the Australian church.
- Bishop Henry Kennedy, as a young priest, had been the private secretary to Cardinal Norman Gilroy in Sydney, and had eventually became vice-chancellor of the archdiocese of Sydney. After being an auxiliary bishop in Brisbane, he became bishop of the Armidale diocese in 1971, aged 56.
- Monsignor Francis Patrick Ryan was born in the Armidale diocese. He was a pupil at De La Salle College in Armidale city, and later served as the school’s chaplain. He became one of Australia’s youngest monsignors (the rank immediately below a bishop). He became the Armidale diocese’s vicar-general (that is, the bishop’s deputy) throughout Bishop Kennedy’s reign. As well as being vicar-general, Monsignor Frank Ryan simultaneously worked in parishes (for example, St Francis Xavier parish at Moree).
In the early 1980s Father XYZ spent three years working as an assistant priest in a rural parish. He gave much attention to the altar boys.
By early 1984, at least one family complained to the Armidale diocese leadership that Father XYZ had sexually abused their son (“Max” — not his real name), who was an altar boy. This complaint was “handled” internally by Bishop Kennedy and Monsignor Ryan and it was not passed on to the police.
The Armidale diocese leadership merely granted Father XYZ a short period of leave from the diocese. Later in 1984, they brought him back to the Armidale diocese, where they appointed him to a parish in a much larger town than his previous town. The families in his new parish were not told about the previous trouble in the rural parish.
Meanwhile, other boys from Father XYZ’s earlier town (where the above-mentioned “Max” lived) revealed that they, too, had had an encounter with this priest. But, again, none of this information reached the police.
Eventually, in 1987, one of Father XYZ’s earlier altar boys (Damian James Jurd, born on 7 March 1972) was in distress in Sydney, aged 15. He was interviewed by child-protection workers and by a children’s psychiatrist. Damian revealed that he had been sexually assaulted by Father XYZ while he was in this priest’s custody in early 1984, when he was aged eleven (or turning twelve). The child-protection experts agreed that the sexual assaults (plus the breach of trust and the accompanying cover-up) had disrupted Damian’s adolescence, resulting in severe personal damage.
On 11 August 1987, specialist detectives from Sydney arrested Father XYZ in Tamworth and charged him with having committed sexual crimes on Damian. Damian’s police statement alleged that these assaults occurred during a weekend car-trip to Narrabri(St Francis Xavier parish). Father XYZ and Damien stayed in Narrabri overnight, so that Father XYZ could conduct the weekend Mass for a priest who was away. Damian acted as the altar boy. Damian’s Catholic family had presumed that the child would be safe while in the custody of a Catholic priest.
Early on the evening of 11 August 1987, the arrest of Father XYZ was reported on the Tamworth local regional commercial television news bulletin. The news item gave the priest’s full name, plus the charges. But, also on that same date, church lawyers obtained an injunction from a Supreme Court judge, preventing the next morning’s newspaper from publishing the name of the defendant or any details. Thus, the newspapers could not mention the Catholic Church or the fact that “the man charged” was a clergyman. However, many people had already heard the priest’s name on the earlier TV bulletin.
Supported by the church leadership, Father XYZ indicated that he would plead “not guilty”. The church’s legal team was well resourced. It was headed by a prominent Sydney Queen’s Counsel, whose long career has included defending a number of high-profile criminal cases.
Father XYZ’s case, held in a closed court on 18 February 1988, was heard by a Catholic magistrate who was personally acquainted with Father XYZ.
This magistrate dismissed the charges, saying that he preferred to believe a Catholic priest (who had “no previous convictions”), rather than a delinquent youth.
The magistrate imposed an order, prohibiting the media from publishing the priest’s name, which is why this Broken Rites article refers to him as “Father XYZ”.
After the court’s acquittal, the Armidale diocese arranged for Father XYZ to live in a presbytery (the home of a very senior cleric), instead of ministering in a parish. Father XYZ spent this time doing some university studies.
In 1989 it was arranged that Father XYZ would transfer to minister in a parish in the Parramatta diocese(in Sydney’s west), although he still belonged officially to Armidale.
The Parramatta diocese, which comprised 60 parishes, was administered from 1986 to 1997 by Bishop Bede Heather.
As Parramatta is 500 kilometres away from Armidale, the Parramatta congregations were unlikely to have heard about the 1987 court case. The people of the Armidale diocese were not told why Father XYZ was not being given any more parishes in the Armidale diocese, and his new parishioners in the Parramatta diocese were not told why he was arriving there.
Father XYZ worked (during 1989 until late 1990) in one of Parramatta diocese’s parishes and then (from late 1990 to early 1992) in a second parish. Again, he befriended boys in the same way as before. Eventually, some parishioners in the Parramatta diocese became concerned about Father XYZ.
One parent spoke to a prominent priest of the Parramatta diocese, Father Roderick Bray (of St Margaret Mary parish in Merrylands), and threatened to “go public” about Father XYZ. Furthermore, someone in the Parramatta diocese learned about Father XYZ’s previous trouble in the Armidale diocese, and this information began to circulate in the Parramatta diocese.
In late 1991, while he was still on loan to the Parramatta diocese, the church authorities were finally forced to re-assess their previous protection of Father XYZ.
On 3 September 1991 (according to an official document in the possession of Broken Rites) Father XYZ was called to a meeting at the Sydney Cathedral presbytery, attended by three church officials:
- Reverend Brian Lucas(then based at the Sydney Cathedral), who was involved in the administration of the Sydney archdiocese.
- Reverend John Usher, of the Sydney archdiocese, chairperson of the Australian Catholic Welfare Commission.
- Reverend Wayne Peters, a senior priest of the Armidale diocese, whose responsibilities then included the Armidale diocese Tribunal (Peters later became Armidale’s vicar-general).
Interviewed by the three officials, Father XYZ admitted that he had been committing sexual acts on young boys in his parishes.
[According to the New South Wales criminal laws, these offences would constitute the crime of indecent assault of a child.]
By mid-1992, Father XYZ’s term in the Parramatta diocese had expired. He returned to the Armidale diocese, living in a private house (not a church-owned house). The church authorities did not strip him of his priesthood but they did not appoint him to minister in any more parishes. Thus he became plain “Mister” XYZ, instead of “Father” XYZ. Despite his record, the Armidale diocese allowed him to continue playing an active role (as a layman) in church affairs in this diocese.
After Bishop Henry Kennedy retired in 1991 (aged 76), he was succeeded as bishop of Armidale by Bishop Kevin Manning. In 1997, Bishop Manning transferred to the Parramatta diocese, and Bishop Luc Matthys later took over in Armidale.
After Father XYZ’s return to civilian life, some of his former altar boys tackled the church authorities about the damage that had been done to their lives. The church resisted these applications but it eventually had to make confidential financial settlements with several of the former altar boys. The settlements served a business purpose — in order to end (and limit) the diocese’s financial liability to each of these persons.
Broken Rites has obtained the details of three settlements regarding Father XYZ:
- Damian Jurd, the altar boy in the 1987 court case, hired a Sydney legal firm in the mid-1990s to bring the Armidale diocese to justice. Damian finally extracted a settlement from the diocese in 1998, when he was aged 26. He used this compensation as a deposit on a house for his partner and his two young children. But he was still feeling damaged by the church-abuse and the cover-up. At the end of 2000 his depression became particularly bad and he was feeling worn out. He was found unconscious in bed. He died on New Year’s Day, 2001, aged 28, when his children were aged about nine and eight.
- Daniel William Powell(born on 28 May 1979) was an altar boy in the Parramatta diocese during Father XYZ’s final months there in 1991-92. In October 2003 Daniel (then aged 24) signed a 24-page statement, alleging multiple incidents of sexual abuse by Father XYZ. The church contested Daniel’s claim for reparations. A settlement was reached in 2005 when Daniel was 26. But Daniel never recovered from the disruption of his adolescence and he took his own life, by hanging, on 25 November 2007, aged 28. He was the father of two young children.
- “Basil” (not his real name), who had been an altar boy for Father XYZ in the same parish as Damian Jurd, won a settlement from the Armidale diocese in 2002 when he was 29. Before seeking this settlement, Basil had written to Cardinal George Pell (the archbishop of Sydney), complaining about Father XYZ and the church’s cover-up. Pell replied that this was not a matter for the Sydney archdiocese. Pell forwarded Basil’s complaint to the Armidale diocese. This indicates that Pell now knows about the Father XYZ cover-up — and so do other church leaders.
Broken Rites has heard about a settlement to another complainant (“Max“, in the Armidale diocese in the same parish as Damian Jurd). Also, there may have been other settlements that Broken Rites has not heard about.
The church authorities have some explaining to do:
WHY did the church tolerate Father XYZ for so long in the Armidale diocese in the 1980s, thereby putting children in danger?
WHY did the Armidale diocese transfer him to the Parramatta diocese for 1989-92, thereby putting more children in danger?
WHY did the Parramatta diocese agree to accept this priest, despite his history of complaints about him in the Armidale diocese?
WHEN Father XYZ admitted in his interview with church authorities on 3 September 1991 that he had indeed been committing sexual acts on children, did the church authorities pass this information on to the New South Wales police? If not, why not?
DO the church authorities feel any responsibility towards the children of Damian Jurd and the children of Daniel Powell? The lives of these orphans have been damaged by the church’s behaviour in harbouring and protecting Father XYZ. The next generation is still feeling the impact of the church’s cover-up.
Article by John Farrell
Bishop Henry Kennedy and Monsignor Frank Ryan are mentioned in an article by John Farrell, of Armidale, which was published in a local newspaper, the Armidale Independent, on (10 February 2011 (on page 4). The article was headed:
A weekly history column by John Farrell
No. 85: The ten Catholic bishops of ArmidaleJohn Farrell’s article includes a brief outline of the career of Bishop Henry Kennedy, plus an anecdote about Kennedy’s early travels in the remote parts of the diocese. The article also mentions that, after Bishop Kevin Manning retired in 1997, Monsignor Frank Ryan was the head of the diocese for two years until Bishop Luc Matthys arrived in 1999. John Farrell’s article is favourable towards Kennedy and Ryan.
John Farrell, who is associated with the Armidale and District Historical Society, is a prominent citizen in the city of Armidale. He writes articles about local history in the Armidale press, including articles about church history.
According to the website of the Armidale Catholic diocese, Father John Farrell was a priest in the Armidale diocese in the 1980s (e.g., at St Nicholas’s parish, Tamworth, in 1985).
Perhaps some day this same newspaper, the Armidale Independent, will publish an article about how the Catholic Church leadership harboured Father XYZ.
One of the major problems with priest rape victims is our ability to trust. As I stated before, I grew up in the Roman Catholic Church. To me a priest, nun or any other official of the RCC were god to us. It was as if god himself was talking to us through them. You also obeyed these priests, nuns and church leaders without question or backtalk. They wanted you to do something you did it immediately without question. If you argued with the priest or the nun, then you normally found out even when they were wrong, you just allowed them to be right if you know what I mean.
Because of this, I was truly unable to trust anyone, especially in any relationship I found myself into. With the mother of my first son, she was incredibly abusive. That is something else I have learned in therapy. We sort of attract these kinds of people into our lives because we believe these are the kinds of people we only deserve to have in our lives.
We broke up because she smashed me in the face with a cordless phone so hard she cracked the casing of the phone. I got up and slapped her in the face, the first time I had ever hit a woman in my whole life. I became totally distraught. That night was the end for us. After we broke up the nightmares started coming back from the priest. My life really started going to hell in a handbasket. The old tapes came back. I was evil. I deserved this. God hated me therefor I hated god. It was a viscous cycle of “evil” return. I deserved this because the priest called me an evil child, a child of the devil. That I disobeyed god’s commandments about my parents and therefor for the rest of my life I would be punished for it.
December 17th, 1991 was one night in which I will never forget. The next day was my birthday. I missed my son so much. I had not seen him in months. His mother and maternal grandmother were making my life a living hell. I started drinking that morning almost as soon as I got up. I then went to take care of the guy I was working with who was a paraplegic. I stole all of his darvocets and some other pill I knew he used to stop the pain he was going through.
I went to a restaurant/bar to have what I believed would be my last meal. Fried shrimp, french fries and drank six Molsons. I ran into a friend outside the bar and we went to toke a joint. He told me he would stop by tomorrow and we would do something but I believe I told him that I would not be around after tomorrow, that this was my last night on earth and told him good bye.
On my walk home all the old evil tapes kept running in my head. I was actually looking for a reason for me to continue living but I couldn’t. I came to the conclusion the priest was right all along. I was evil, a child of the devil. No matter what I did to correct this, I would always be evil. I would always lose what I love the most and my son to me was my life, my will to live. It finally came to me that he would never be in my life because god did not want my evil in his life.
I got home and I lined up all the pills. I also poured me a shot of Crown Royal. I remember taking each pill. I looked at each of them before I popped them into my mouth. I would tell each pill to do their work. I remember taking almost all of them. I drank another shot and waited for the pills to take their effect. About a half an hour later I started taking the last ones I had because I had not gone to sleep yet. All of a sudden I heard a knock on the door and it was two police officers. My friend had called the cops because he was worried about me. I saw the cops and I walked over, took down the picture of my son and ran into what would have been his bedroom. I know I was sitting there crying my eyes out hugging the picture screaming how I wanted to just be allowed to die. That I was evil and I did not deserve to live. The police were incredible though. They waited til I semi-passed out, picked me up and bought me down to the waiting ambulance. I remember they had to walk me down the steps because the gurney would not fit up the stairs. As I was laid down on the gurney I remember looking up and seeing the mother of my sons police officer uncle and I thought he was laughing at me being a failure.
I woke up in the ICU. My stomach had been pumped out from all the pills I had swallowed. When I talked to the psychiatrist I did not tell him that what happened with priest was more the catalyst for what I had done than anything else, but I just told him this was all about my son. They gave me a choice. Either I check myself in or they would do what is called a Baker Act on me so I checked myself in because then I could check myself out whenever I wished to. I stayed til almost new years in the psychiatric ward of the hospital. I knew the whole time as soon as they let me out I would do my best to kill myself again. I played their game just so they would let me out.
About three days after they let me out I purchased a whole bunch of Valiums. I bought 10 val 10 grams and 3 val 15 mg. I also bought a pint of smirnoffs 100 proof vodka. I bought a small bag of pot too. I went to the store across the street and bought me my last dinner. I made me a meat loaf but did not eat it. I had already drank the pint of vodka and went and bought another pint. I then got home, took out a highball glass, put all the Valiums into the glass and poured vodka over it, letting it dissolve all the pills. I then drank it down in one drink. There was a little sediment left in the glass so I poured some more vodka into it, swirled it around and drank it down.
It did not take long for it to start to take effect. Yet there was a knock on my door. This time it was Angie, a female friend of mine. I do not remember much from that night, except for what she told me about a week later.
She told me she felt she urgently needed to come to my place, that something was terribly wrong. She said when she got to my place, I was almost gone then. She said I was crying and screaming how evil I was and how I just wanted to die. She told me I talked about the priest, how he was right and I was a child of the devil. That no matter what my life was going to be crap so just let me die. When she bought up my son as the biggest reason to live, she told me that he was not my son cause the devil would not have such a good son as he was.
She told me I passed out numerous times, but she would bring me to the shower, turn it on ice cold and toss me in. At one point I got so angry with her interference that I slammed my head on the coffee table as hard as I could so apparently I could split my head open. She said I ran to the kitchen to get a knife but she knocked it out of my hand.
The next day I woke up on the couch, still alive. Angie was gone.
To this day I still cannot understand why I am still alive. I should be dead. The first pill suicide episode should have killed me but it did not. The second should have definitely killed me, but Angie the Angel showed up. Many other times I have attempted suicide should have killed me but did not. I remember one time attempting to hang myself and the damn rope breaking.
Why am I still here? I have come to realize that it is because I must be here. I must stand up and take back the life this priest stole from me. That I must learn that what this priest drilled into my young head is an out and out lie. I am NOT EVIL, I am NOT a child of the devil. This priest put that into my head and it does not belong there.
The way I look at it now is, these perverted priests do this so we victims would in fact eventually kill ourselves. They in effect are murderers in my book. Any of their victims commit suicide because of these perverted priests actions are just as guilty of murder as if they pulled the trigger or fed the pills to their victims themselves. So is the Papal Bullshitter, his High Unholiness the Pope and all those who covered this up. All of these victims deaths are on your hands, heads and souls. YOUR actions killed these people.
I am one of the lucky ones. By all rights I should be dead. My life was saved for some reason. No, to me it was not god, jesus christ or any of that bullshit that saved my life. It was the Universe and the Gods and Goddesses of Old. It was my Godmother who continues to watch over me from the other side. I am here for a reason. To take back my life, to take back my soul, to take back my mind and heart, from this evil priest, his perverted bosses and most especially to reclaim that which was stolen from me from this perverted church and it’s leaders.
Standing on the swinging bridge with the noose around my neck I was thinking of reasons why I should not jump off the bridge. It was one of the most beautiful spots I have ever seen and it would be my last thing I saw, so how could I not just jump and get it all over with.
See I was tired of life again. This would make the seventh serious attempt at ending my life since the priest raped me in 1975. I believed him. I believed I was evil and god did not want me any more. I remember when the priest was raping me I was begging and crying to god and jesus christ to make him stop. Maybe this priest was right. I deserved what I was getting from him. Ever since I told my friend at Austin Cate Academy what happened to me by this priest, I felt my whole life was doomed. Why should I continue to live? Why don’t I just end it and go to that hell the priest had consigned my soul so very long ago?
I threw my left leg over the rope railing of the bridge when someone screamed: It is not your time yet. I turned and there was this blond woman at the end of the bridge. She ran over and told me to talk to her. I did not want to, all I wanted to do was jump. Especially after she bought up the name of Jesus Christ. When she did that I got royal livid pissed at her and I started screaming at her how much I hated Jesus Christ and god and christians and religion. I let it all out. I took all of my pent up anger out on her. I thoroughly trashed her, her christian beliefs, and everything else.
She took everything I threw at her. She just kept on smiling. That just pissed me off even more. I really started to go overboard, trashing her again, I told her if I was a woman I would wipe that smile off of her face.
Then she said something that stunned me. She told me all the hate I had towards her and jesus christ, they had one hundred times more love for me. That really blew me away. I talked to her then. I stopped screaming at her. I even stopped hating her.
We talked for a while and then she left. She took the rope just in case. I left the Dolly Copp area that day and two days later contacted mental health and started therapy.
Yes, suicide seems to be the only option sometimes for my life. Yet I am still here. I am trying to figure out why. I still haven’t come up with an answer to it.