"We love the church dearly," said Sweeney in a recent interview. At the same
time, they are outspoken in their outreach to those who have been abused
by leaders in the church both through inappropriate conduct and inaction
regarding the many acts of abuse that have come to light in recent years.

"All we want to do is listen to the victims and acknowledge that they have
been wronged," Sweeney said, adding, "All they want is to be heard, to be
believed and to have those who harmed them be accountable." She said the
fact that she and Ferry are members of the church who are willing to
believe the victims makes their role more meaningful.

The effort started when they read a letter in the Knoxville Catholic
Diocese's newspaper. Several mothers had written to complain that the
local parish center was named in honor of former bishop Anthony J. O¹Connell,
who had moved to Palm Beach, Florida before resigning as bishop and admitting
he had been indiscreet with "one or two" teenagers while he was a seminary 
rector in the 1970s. His picture was also among those on a wall in the
high school -- the topic of another letter from the same mothers. In addition,
there is a bust of O'Connell in the diocese office. Church officials have
declined to remove them, saying it is a historical record.  The complaints hit
home with Ferry and Sweeney, whose monastery was dedicated by O'Connell
in 1997, when he was Bishop at Knoxville.

"That's why it's so personal to us," Sweeney said. "We adored him. He
was extremely charismatic, witty and debonair." Learning that he was a
child molester was a devastating blow to them, but it also gave them a
visceral understanding of the hurt felt by victims of abuse.

Sweeney said they wrote to the women, applauding them for their courage in
taking such a noble stand and encouraging them to continue what had been a
fruitless effort. The women visited the monastery and shared their feeling
of being alone in their concern for victims. Before long, they took action
in the form of a Tennessee Chapter of Survivors Network of those Abused by
Priests (SNAP) and enlisted the two contemplative nuns to get involved
through the Internet. Susan Vance established a web site for them at
www.freewebs.com/thenuns and an email address: thenuns@earthlink.net

Until then, Sweeney said, they only used a computer for word processing.
Now, they¹re communicating through cyberspace with people from around the
world for as much as 12 hours on some days. Ferry, who worked as a nurse
in a sex abuse unit before becoming a nun, handles the mail. There have been
2,600 hits on their site, which has only been up for a few months, and
they've lost count of the number of emails.

"We're just trying to be there for the victims," Sweeney said. "If they
need direction to someone, we refer them to SNAP. We're not professional
counselors; we're just a sign to direct the way and to listen
sympathetically." In many cases, just having someone to listen seems to be
a big step toward healing, she said.

Many victims, she said, did not initially realize the impact of what had
happened when they were children. When the realization hit, however,
tt often had a double effect. Other emailers have been parents of victims,
who are victims themselves in feeling responsible.

Most, she said, are devout churchgoers who were hit hard by the knowledge
of  what happened to their children.

Sweeney said the abuse crosses the spectrum and includes all possible
relationships, including nuns with both boys and women as well as priests
with both sexes. "There are thousands of victims who deserve to be heard,
to be treated with respect." She is quick to say she doesn't want to cause
division in the church but at the same time she can't countenance the evil
that was done -- and covered up, which adds another layer of
victimization.

Sweeney is quick to disagree with statements that the victims were somehow
at least partially responsible. In O'Connell's case, he was the rector of
a pre-seminary school for adolescent boys, a magnificent teacher and a
priest.

"It was so insidious if this man who you adore tells you 'this is what
God wants you to do'."  She said the boys would be mesmerized, even as
teenagers, by such an authority figure, and the same would be the case
with any priest or nun.

She is also quick to disagree with those who want to sweep it under the
rug or who feel that all the reports have solved the problem. There are still
victims who are deprressed, can't hold a job, are filled with rage, or are
contemplating suicide some 10-20 years after the abuse. There are parents
trying to come to grips with their children's suicides. And there are
members of the church who want reassurances. While some say the victims
just want to sue the church and get money, Sweeney said that's not the case.
"They just want to be heard." The lawsuits that have been filed, she said,
came when the victims were ignored.

"We're not trying to start a counter-reformation," Sweeney emphasized. "We
just want to do the obvious right thing, to be an instrument of peace."
She said most contacts are one time but they do appreciate hearing back from
those who are gaining in courage or have taken steps for psychological
help.

When they hear from someone in the throes of extreme distress, they try to
follow up to see how things are going. "So far, we don¹t know of anyone
who has committed suicide," she said, but they know it happens.
On their web site, the sisters point out that "if the little boy or young
teen Jesus had been raised in our American Catholic church over at least
the past seven decades in history, he too could easily have been one of those
victims."

In their prayers, they beseech the brave strong mother of God to
intercede by speaking to her own Boy on behalf of all victims.
Sweeney said it breaks her heart to know what has happened in her beloved
church. "We're two little old nuns who love our church but see young
people who were victimized and now, as older people, are re-victimized by not
being believed or comforted." They feel their new mission is what God wants them to do.