By Michael Kearns

Instead of taking the spiritual path and treating gay priests with respect and compassion, the Vatican is on the verge of reinforcing their hateful and heartless stance by banning gay men from becoming men of the cloth. Thank the Lord that the pope's domain doesn't encompass the Broadway stage; imagine a comparable ban on gay chorus boys.

Pope Benedict XVI is studying a document that would prevent gay men from joining the seminary. One wonders how the Vatican proposes to identify gayness in a potential seminarian. Play the score from A Little Night Music and see if they sing along? Show them pics of Paris Hilton and see if they get a woody? Ask the outright, along the lines of, "Are you now or have you ever been a member of?"

"It will be written in a very pastoral mode," John Haldane, professor of moral philosophy at the University of St. Andrews, said. "It will not be an attack on the gay lifestyle. It will not say 'homosexuality is immoral.' But it will suggest that admitting gay men into the priesthood places a burden both on those who are homosexual and those they are working alongside who are not."

Could someone translate that gibberish? I suppose it means that the potential burden for straight priests-in-training would be working alongside someone with great hair, a hot bod, and an enviable sense of humor. And what would be the potential burden for the homos working alongside their hetero bros? Uh, maybe they'd be put off by their lack of refined taste or lack of knowledge when it comes to movie trivia?

To maintain his benevolent image, if the document is published, it will be signed by a cardinal, not Pope Benny (pray that it's not our local diva, La Mahoney.) No matter who signs this piece of trash, it will serve as proof that evil lurks in every closet of the Vatican. There are two reasons this ban might come to fruition (so to speak): to avoid future financial losses and because the powers-that-be (many of whom are as gay as a picnic basket) hate fags.

There does seem to be a high percentage of pederast priests. Have we asked ourselves why? Could it be a reaction to the anti-homosexual teachings of the Catholic Church? I simply can't believe that all of those men who chose a life of service were child molesters when they entered the seminary.

Does their infatuation with young boys have something to do with the imbalance of power (they would be far less likely to face accusations from a boy than from an adult)? Or could their inappropriate choices be the result of insidious self-hatred, based on the church's stated disdain for who they are? How many of us have spent much of our life responding to the negative images we've heard about gayness by acting out in ways that confirm those stereotypes?

The solution is not to ban homosexuals but rather to honor them, support them and love them. That would include allowing them to be who they are. Perhaps marry a same-sex partner. Embolden them by embracing their authenticity. Trying to force someone to deny his or her true self can be deadly, not too mention expensive. Has clinging to the anti-gay rhetoric of the Catholic Church, spending millions of dollars donated by parishioners, been worth it? One wonders.

Demoralizing minorities by labeling them negatively is nothing new and neither is the resultant behavior. The maligned individual behaves according to the script they've been given. The Catholic Church is, in no small part, culpable for the sins of its brethren. Banning gay men from the seminary will result in the human suffering of millions -- not only the gay men but also their friends and family members. It's utterly heartless.

I have two priest stories, one not so commendable and one that positively shaped the course of my life.

Holy Father number one liked to ask questions of pubescent boys after they finished vomiting out their sins, venal and mortal, in the confessional. "Do you masturbate?" he'd say, voice lowered, hiding behind the black cloth that separates one from the clergyman. If, God help you, you answered "yes," the lech began a litany of questions that surely aroused him. "What do you wear? What do you look at? How many times a week? Do you do it alone or with another young boy?" Some of my peers swore they could hear the sound of his busy hand wanking his holy dick.

Holy Father number two was a priest of another color. Obviously gay (think Charles Nelson Reilly without the wig), he must have sensed my emerging queerness (the Carol Channing impersonations gave me away). He never laid a hand on me, but he gave me permission to be authentic and subtly referenced my difference and instilled a concept that would save my life: Being different is being special.

The confessional and the closet serve as each other's emotional mirrors. Both are airless and dark places where self-hatred resides and deception flourishes. Sometimes with a boner.