It's a Saturday Mass and the 11-year-old also prepares the table for Holy Communion.

Altar servers are lay assistants to clergy and help with worship chores such as carrying candles and holding the missal, a liturgical book with texts for the celebration of Mass.

Brian O'Shaughnessy assists the Rev. Mark Kopacz at St. Catherine of Siena near Prices Corner. The News Journal / Suchat Pederson

Brian's mother, Kelly O'Shaughnessy of Pike Creek, thinks that her son's being an altar server will teach him responsibility and bring a deeper appreciation of his faith.

Yet in the past three years the abuse scandals revealed a sad truth -- the privileged position of servers placed them within easy reach of predatory clergymen, said the Rev. John Hynes, pastor of St. Catherine of Siena.

The scandal has reinforced the need for vigilance by parents such as Michael and Kelly O'Shaughnessy, concerned lest their children be robbed of their innocence, their security -- perhaps even their belief in a benevolent God -- by predatory clergymen.

For all their concern, the O'Shaughnessys have wanted their four children to be active in parish life. At St. Catherine of Siena, the O'Shaughnessys are one of almost 40 families whose children volunteer as altar servers.

It's a role typically open to boys and girls from fourth grade into high school. The O'Shaughnessys are similar to families in the 57 parishes that are scattered around the Delmarva Peninsula, said Robert G. Krebs, a spokesman for the Diocese of Wilmington.

Priests are fallible

The scandal has countered the image of the priest as a hand-picked agent of God. The O'Shaughnessys know that priests are not just fallible but capable of the most heinous crimes.

As a grand jury reported in September, crimes against the young in the adjacent Archdiocese of Philadelphia have included rape, masturbation and exposure to pornography.

Even before this, the O'Shaughnessys told their children that they wanted to know if anything peculiar happened anywhere -- in the neighborhood, church or school.

"The lesson for us is that we have a responsibility to have an open dialogue with our children about this topic," Kelly said.

It's sad, she said, but parents must talk about inappropriate touch occurring with a teacher, neighbor or family member.

"It's been hard for people to get their minds around the fact that sexual abuse is all too common," said Thomas G. Plante, a California psychologist who has written about the crisis in the Catholic Church.

The sexual abuse scandals of 2002 were a wake-up call to the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, Plante said. It turned out that thousands of men, who were ordained to bless the bread and wine, turning them into the body and blood of Christ, had introduced a hidden legacy of shame. As a result, the U.S. Conference of Bishops called on dioceses to voluntarily institute major change.

That the church has been forced to do background checks and institute other policies, much like those of the Boy Scouts, offers solace to Kelly O'Shaughnessy.

"I grew up with the idea you didn't talk about certain things," she said. "And I don't know that that was for the best. Today the media and the openness in society has brought a lot of issues into the light. I think it's good that we're encouraged to ask questions."

At one time priests were deified and it was thought they could do no wrong, Kelly said. The abuse scandals have changed that and that makes for a much more realistic world. "It's better to know the truth -- priests are fallible," she said.

Cloud over priesthood

In her parish, Kelly likes that her priest -- Father Hynes -- is known for his friendliness and moral character.

Her husband was an altar server with Hynes and had a good experience. Kelly herself has worshipped at his Masses for more than 20 years.

"I'm sorry this scandal has cast doubt on individuals, like Father Hynes, who are humble and sincere," she said.

Hynes has found the scandals "unbelievably shocking and painful," though it has not diminished his belief in the priesthood as calling. The recent report on the scandals in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia has caused him to wonder if he has preached enough on the need for openness and healing, he said.

The scandals also remind him how different life was decades ago, when most of the abuse occurred. Prior to Vatican II in the mid-60s, altar servers were one of the few groups to be with priests in the sacristy, where attendants dress for Mass, he said. Today it's more common to also find deacons, readers and ministers of communion also gathered there. Much of the openness to lay participation has come with Vatican II.

"In decades past, a priest would have a lot of contact with altar servers before Mass, bantering about this or that," Hynes said. "It was a kind of privileged access."

Servers were regarded as an elite corps, many preparing for a life in the priesthood, Hynes said. And to say thanks for their services, priests took them on trips that often led to overnight stays.

"For those who abused children, this was the perfect cover," Hynes said.

But priests did not always need trips to violate those that they were supposed to protect. In the Philadelphia Archdiocese, priests molested children in church sacristies, parked cars and rectory bedrooms.

The church has learned from such accounts, Hynes said. That's why there are policies that say adults should coach and work with young people only in the presence of other adults.

And with due vigilance, volunteering as an altar server can still be enriching, Hynes said.

"The beauty of the Mass compelled me from age 4, and being an altar server was part of my wanting to be a priest," Hynes said.

He's been a priest now for 40 years.

As for Brian O'Shaughnessy, he's not planning to become a priest, but he has enjoyed his front-row seat at Mass.

Contact Gary Soulsman at 324-2893 or gsoulsman@delawareonline.com.