In the face of the sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic church, groups representing victims are pressing a national legislative strategy that they think -- wrongly -- will deter these crimes by clergy.

Groups like Survivors' Network of those Abused by Priests have organized legislative efforts in Kentucky, New Hampshire, Virginia, and Maryland to require priests to divulge information about child abuse they hear in the confessional. The initiatives are an obtuse and ill-planned response to a true tragedy. They would punish innocent persons, trample on the religious freedoms of people of many faiths, and do little to help children.

While the Virginia legislature had the good sense to vote down a similar bill, Maryland Senator Delores G. Kelley has introduced a bill that would require priests, and all clergy, to report information about child abuse they hear, even in the confessional or during similar moments of spiritual counseling.

The Maryland bill contains an exemption for the penitent - the information cannot be used against that person -- but not for third parties discussed during confession. The New Hampshire version offers no exemption. Texas already has legislation like that, passed with nary a peep from Texas Catholics who politically could not risk appearing sympathetic to child abusers.

There are good reasons to object to these bills on constitutional grounds. For one thing, statements made about third parties and reported to authorities would normally be barred from use as evidence in a trial by rules against hearsay, rules designed in part to prevent citizens from spying on neighbors. Also, the law has always recognized that certain communications between parties should be kept secret.

The priest-penitent privilege is centuries old, recognized in all common law jurisdictions. In a celebrated 1996 attempt to breach this privilege, Oregon tried to enter into evidence a secretly made tape recording of an inmate's confession to a priest. Even though the inmate wanted the contents of the confession to be known, the Catholic church sued to keep them secret. The suit was brought by then-bishop Francis George of Portland, now cardinal of Chicago. 

The 9^th Circuit Court of Appeals found in favor of the church, noting "the history of the nation has shown a uniform respect for the character of sacramental confession as inviolable by government agents interested in securing evidence of crime."

Fortunately, Texas is in the minority in completely abolishing the priest-penitent privilege. More typical is a 1989 Maryland statue requiring priests and other professionals to report cases of suspected child abuse, with the exception of those learned in confession. Ironically, the newly proposed Maryland bill, like many of its cousins in other states, exempts lawyers from having to disclose reports of abuse they hear from clients.

While neutral on its face, this legislative movement is aimed primarily at Catholic priests who, it is assumed, will go to confession to fellow priests and tell of their child abuse (although the Maryland bill contains an exemption in this case). Leaving priests no place to hide, advocates claim, would disabuse them of the idea they can continue violating children.

In fact, the more likely result is that penitents of all varieties, from felons to venial sinners, would lose the fundamental trust necessary for useful spiritual guidance. Felons obviously just would not confess. But neither would children who stole from the cookie jar.

As aggrieved as victims of abuse are, they should think twice before bringing the wrath of the state to bear against their own church and against the principle of clergy-communicant confidentiality. The separation of church and state fundamentally means today what those on the Mayflower, in the synagogues of Baltimore, in Quaker meeting houses of Philadelphia hoped for. It means the state must stay out of the internal workings of a religion, for the good of everyone.

There are other laws to punish child abusers and their churches when they are negligent. If the free exercise of religion means anything, it means that penitents can seek spiritual guidance from clergy, secure in the knowledge their communications are confidential. Leaving the state out of the confessional is the best hope for helping all of us overcome our darker sides and for preserving our hard won civil liberties.

John Farina, a theologian and lawyer, is a senior fellow at the Woodstock Theological Center at Georgetown University where he directs the Catholicism and Civic Renewal Project.