DALLAS -- Parked just outside the youth center of the Cathedral of Hope, the nation's largest gay church, is a white RV emblazoned with the legend ''Jesus is Lord of all.''
For gay and lesbian Roman Catholics, that simple statement is at the heart of the sexual abuse crisis in the church. Many are convinced that a witch hunt is underway -- that gays are being blamed for the continuing avalanche of pedophilia complaints against Catholic priests.
The head of the national bishops' group, Bishop Wilton Gregory of Belleville, Ill., has said there is an ''ongoing struggle'' to make sure the priesthood is not ''dominated by homosexual men.'' Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia has said ''a person who is homosexually oriented is not a suitable candidate for the priesthood.''
''This brings us back to the 1950s, to the days when we had to live in the shadows,'' says Mary Louise Cervone, president of the gay Catholic group DignityUSA, which is sponsoring a prayer service Friday at the Cathedral of Hope, a nondenominational gay church. ''I've never seen people so angry. We're being scapegoated, plain and simple.''
As the nation's nearly 300 Roman Catholic bishops gather here today through Friday to debate and vote on a new policy for dealing with sexual abuse of minors by priests, voices of dissent will echo from outside downtown's Fairmont Hotel.
About two dozen groups, including the Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests (SNAP), will use the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops meeting here to draw attention to their issues. More than 750 media representatives have registered from around the world.
Most of the hundreds of anticipated demonstrators are pushing for zero tolerance for abusive priests, punishment for bishops who have ignored or covered up abuse, a greater role for laity and the ordination of women in the Roman Catholic Church.
Dealing with abusive priests is the focus of the meeting; other issues, including homosexuality, are not on the bishops' agenda. Even so, gay activists see this moment as pivotal: With 63 million Catholics nationwide, they say the church cannot afford to keep silent.
''Religion often is at the core of why people hate us,'' says Cathy Renna, spokeswoman for Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD), and misinformation often muddies the waters. For every sexual predator such as accused pedophile priest Paul Shanley, there are heroic gay priests like firehouse chaplain Mychal Judge, who died on Sept. 11 in the World Trade Center while providing comfort to his company.
Church's stance unchanged
''People often get their views from their religions, so we don't want the pulpit saying that being gay is wrong,'' Renna says. ''But mostly this is about the Catholic leadership refusing to accept the blame, and shifting it over to us.''
The church's position on homosexuality is ''a very important issue,'' but there are no plans to address it at this meeting, says Bill Ryan, spokesman for the U.S Conference of Catholic Bishops. ''The bishops are here for one purpose and one purpose only, and that is to work on the 'Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People,' '' the title of the draft policy that they will vote on Friday.
He says the church's stance on homosexuality remains unchanged: ''That (a gay) orientation is not sinful, but homosexual genital activity is sinful.''
Spokespeople for two prominent urban archdioceses with large gay populations agree. Though the church is open to homosexuals, it cannot accept people who have sex with others of the same gender, says Susan Gibbs, spokeswoman for the Archdiocese of Washington, D.C.
In San Francisco, archdiocese spokesman Maurice Healy says that ''Jesus opened his arms to everyone, and the church opens its arms to everyone.'' But, he adds, gay Catholics may have a difficult time. ''The road of the faithful is a difficult journey, and for some people it's more difficult than others. For people with a homosexual orientation, they are asked to live a life that is chaste.''
The Catholic Church does not call homosexuality itself a sin; it's considered a ''disorder.'' But either way, some church leaders seem to want gays out.
Seminary visitations raise concern
A particular source of concern for gay Catholics is a forthcoming Vatican-led visitation of U.S. seminaries. Vatican spokesman Joaquin Navarro-Valls went so far as to suggest recently that the church consider removing priests who are gay. And Archbishop Julian Herranz, head of the Pontifical Council for the Interpretation of Legislative Texts, described pedophilia as a ''concrete form of homosexuality.''
Gays here feel that those views could, at the very least, discourage homosexually oriented men from seeking the priesthood. At worst, they say, it could chase gays out a steadily shrinking pool of 46,000 U.S. priests.
Few statistics are available on the number of priests who are gay, but psychotherapist A.W. Richard Sipe estimates from case studies of 2,700 priests that 30% are gay and half of the 30% are sexually active.
''This Vatican visitation is code for a witch hunt. Gay priests are terrified,'' says Frank DeBernardo, executive director of New Ways Ministries, a national organization headquartered in Mount Rainier, Md., that is dedicated to building bridges between the gay community and the Catholic Church.
''If the leadership doesn't support its (gay) priests, then the question is, what about the rest of us? What about the gay organists, gay choir members, gay spiritual directors?'' asks DeBernardo. ''There's a deep anger at the bishops who have spoken against gays, but also puzzlement that no other bishops have spoken out for us.''
Into this silence have rushed a variety of conservative Catholic voices. Most echo a familiar theme: that being gay is a reversible condition and that the church cannot tolerate homosexual behavior.
Gay Catholics 'should seek help'
''If (gay Catholics) recognize they are sinners, they should seek help,'' says the Rev. Lou Sheldon of the Traditional Values Coalition, a Washington, D.C.-based lobbying group representing 43,000 churches from a variety of Christian denominations. ''I don't want to hurt homosexuals, but I don't want them to mess up the church.''
As far as gay churchgoers are concerned, often those struggling with their sexuality are steered by church leaders to Courage, a church-sanctioned self-help organization that endorses the ''objective order . . . which is heterosexuality,'' says the Rev. John Harvey, director of Courage's 60 support groups nationwide. ''Homosexual acts are contrary to the order of human nature. People don't choose to be homosexual. It's a condition. We distinguish between having the condition and giving in to the condition.''
The aims of Courage directly conflict with the mission of DignityUSA, which maintains that homosexual relationships -- including sexual ones -- should be recognized by the church. Courage supports Catholic Church teachings that sexual relations between people of the same sex are morally wrong.
Such talk leaves many gay Catholics mystified. For most, choosing between the two identities seems absurd -- and insulting.
''I want to make sure my Catholic and gay identities are seen side-by-side. There is no way in hell they're going to run me out,'' says Bill Mochon, a Los Angeles psychotherapist who works with gay priests and will be attending the events in Dallas.
He says the ''state of alarm is very high'' among gay Catholics now, but he urges everyone to keep their voices from becoming shrill. ''We need to open up a dialogue with the church, which is very conservative and slow to change.''
If the hierarchy is slow to change, rank-and-file priests are not, says DignityUSA's Cervone.
''I have never been to a liturgy where the priest was demeaning to gays. And that's the point,'' she says. ''There is a cavernous divide between the bishops and everyday Catholics.''
The reality is more complex. Interviews with a range of gays and lesbians who have found a place for religion in their lives suggest that many were driven from the church by peer scrutiny, which only exacerbated their battle with sexuality.
For Sharon Sherrard, a San Rafael, Calif., accountant, the feelings of condemnation led her to alcohol addiction. ''No matter what I did, I knew in my mind that I could never, quote, get to heaven as long as I was an active lesbian,'' she says.
Rosemary Ananish of Wells, Maine, returned to the Catholic Church in her 40s. She told her parish priest that she was a lesbian, ''and that didn't seem to matter.'' But eventually it did to some congregants. After a woman who had asked Ananish to be godmother to her child found out Ananish was a lesbian, she wrote a letter to the pope, Ananish says, saying she should not be allowed to approach the altar for communion.
A few years ago, Ananish says she ''decided I had to take my money and feet out of the parish. I left because I cannot support the church that will not support me.'' Now she drives 35 miles to attend DignityUSA services in Portland.
Though some do leave the church, others are committed to staying, convinced that change is inevitable and impending.
''I really feel the leadership is out of touch,'' says Ken Scott, a university administrator from Madison, Wis. ''My experience is that Catholics aren't at all confused between what a gay person is and what a child molester is. I want to try to understand why so many of our church leaders are afraid to face this issue of gay people actually being normal.''
For Mark Matson, a human resources director in Columbus, Ohio, his personal battles with the church led him to ''reject church teachings,'' but not the church itself.
''I've never felt condemned by God,'' he says. ''It's just the church that's the problem.''
Sitting inside the cavernous Cathedral of Hope, a 10-year-old concrete and stained-glass monument to Dallas' thriving gay community, Russ Windle and Chellie Griffin talk about being gay and Catholic with equals parts pride and fatigue.
''For us, this is a bit like when Jerry Falwell blamed the Sept. 11 attacks on gays. I mean, what's next?'' says Windle, who, like Griffin, is a local member of DignityUSA. ''I still have my faith, I still pray. But it hurts deeply that this church that is supposed to be about celebrating unconditional love is putting conditions on love.''
Griffin nods, then smiles. ''I have hope,'' she says, going on to highlight the various changes that have happened in secular society to not just accommodate gays but fight discrimination.
''Just look at the workplace. In the 1950s, they let women in, because they realized they had to. The same way that they have let gays into the workplace and kept them free from discrimination, because they have to, we're members of the society at large,'' she says, rocking forward in the pew.
''These changes will come to places of worship. Maybe the laity will change first, and the church will have to catch up,'' she says. ''But regardless of what happens here this week, I know change will come.''