Others are upset by Bennison's handling of his misdeeds and by church authorities' decadeslong acceptance of him. In an echo of the clergy sex abuse scandals that have roiled the Catholic Church for more than a decade, the incident triggered one parishioner finally to reveal her experience of sexual abuse by a priest 40 years ago. "I'm not going to go back right away," Ray Zimmerman, 55, said of the church where his daughter met and married her husband and where his granddaughter was baptized, both events that Bennison presided over.

"There are so many people there who are still deceived by him, and who honestly view him as the victim," said Zimmerman, an Antioch resident. "I just don't know if I can feel OK in that atmosphere, where people are blaming the real victims and saying the perpetrator is the victim."

Bishop William Swing -- who leads the 27,000-member Diocese of California, which includes churches in six Bay Area counties -- told parishioners in an e-mail May 31 that he asked for Bennison's resignation May 29 only because of the publicity surrounding Bennison. Swing said the priest had an "honorable," "outstanding" and "unblemished" record at St. John's.

"Nothing is to be gained by feeding the media and giving new opportunities for intimidating coercion by his opponents," Swing wrote.

The treatment of Bennison, whose brother is an Episcopal bishop and father was, too, has become a question of faith. The discussion is infused with questions of forgiveness, atonement and redemption. Whether Bennison was ever appropriately punished can be a question of whether proper church procedures were followed or a priest who sexually abuses a minor ever should be allowed back into the pulpit.

Bennison admitted the relationship, which began in 1972 when the girl was 14 and he was 24 and a youth pastor. He voluntarily renounced his priesthood for three years in the late 1970s and was assigned to lead St. John's in 1982. The victim revived the case in 1993 in the hope of putting it behind her.

Her mother said Thursday that her daughter was granted almost nothing of what she sought, which included Bennison's removal from the priesthood. But Bennison did agree to talk to his congregation about it. The Chronicle is not naming the victim or her family because she was a victim of sexual assault. Her mother said the victim and her family decided not to press criminal charges because she was too fragile to withstand a trial. Police were never notified.

Swing met with the Clayton congregation in 1994 to discuss the assault.

"The sexual abuse with a teenager in his past in Los Angeles was made privy to the congregation," he said in the May 31 e-mail.

Swing said the church's lay leaders supported Bennison in 1994, and that made Swing feel it was appropriate to leave Bennison in charge of the parish.

Bob Carr, who attended that meeting, said no one knew the victim was a minor; parishioners understood that Bennison had "a dalliance" with "a young woman." Other parishioners told The Chronicle they got the same impression.

"It seemed like it was a problem," said Carr. "But most of us said, 'We all have feet of clay,' not knowing the details. ... The guy hasn't done anything since then, so let's move on."

The Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests, a clergy abuse activist group, in April began picketing the church, distributing flyers and talking to church members. Parishioners began to question Bennison, and a meeting was called.

Genevieve Stolarz, 70, of Concord said that when parishioners again defended Bennison, a wave of memories washed over her.

"The most painful thing was to sit in that congregation and to hear what the parishioners were saying and to feel abandoned," Stolarz said Thursday. "They had no idea that there was someone in that congregation who had been abused."

When she was 28, she said, a priest at the Southern California Episcopal church she attended repeatedly assaulted her at her home. He told her he would discredit her publicly if she ever told anyone. She never did, not even her husband, who is now dead.

"When I heard the congregation defending John and there was nothing about the victim, I thought, 'Yup, this is exactly what the priest said would happen,' " said Stolarz, who has attended St. John's for over 31 years and in recent years has served on the vestry, the church's elected board of trustees.

St. John's "is not a safe place to go" for a victim of sexual abuse, she said.

The way the retired Rev. Robert Cromey sees it, Bennison "confessed his sin, he was repentant, he was forgiven and he was allowed to return to the ministry."

"He served for 24 years in a very family-oriented community in Clayton," said Cromey, the former head priest of Trinity Episcopal Church in San Francisco. "He had a blameless record. And then SNAP raises its ugly head, and Swing capitulates. He should have been supported."

The victim's mother said she hopes Bennison's resignation and defrocking will end a three-decade search for justice.

"Forgiveness is very important, and atonement is, too," she said. "My daughter has forgiven this man, and I have, too."

But a priest who has sexually abused a minor should not be given the privilege of power again, she said.

"A person of trust should be held to a higher standard," she said.

For some, Bennison's case is proof the church operated in philosophical and religious terms and did not deal with the practical fallout of the events.

The Rev. Lyle Grosjean said forgiveness should not be simple.

" 'You've confessed. You're forgiven now. Go and sin no more.' That doesn't deal with the realities of life, which include the possible legal implications," said Grosjean, 72, who used to lead St. Andrew's Episcopal Church in San Bruno and has retired.

"This case is a glaring example of the fact that the church acted as though his repentance, his penance, his suspension from the ministry and then his reinstatement was an act of forgiveness," he said. "That's cheap grace."

E-mail Matthai Chakko Kuruvila at mkuruvila@sfchronicle.com.

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