The Roman Catholic Church has reacted angrily to comments endorsing gay parenthood from a charity with strong links to the Church.
Terry Prendergast of Marriage Care, which is partly funded by the Church, said there was no evidence children were harmed by having same-sex parents.
“I think you’ll be happy in the Anglican denomination where this sort of reasoning evades the Truth.”
I’m sorry to disappoint you, IB, but you will not get rid of me that easily. I am a cradle Catholic, “gebore en gerore” (born and bred, as expressed in Afrikaans), and could no more renounce my faith than I could my language – or my orientation.
One year I accompanied my then partner to Christmas Midnight Mass in the cathedral parish of St Mary’s, Johannesburg, a place rich in sympbolism and significance at that time of anti -apartheid struggle – and came away empty. My present partner here in the UK is also a high church Anglican, and I have frequently accompanied him to services – which again I find shallow and empty. Only in the Catholic Mass do I find true richness.
What draws me to the Catholic Church, beyond mere habit and familiarity, is precisely that it is not just “Catholic” (i.e. institutional), but also “catholic” (literally, universal). The Gospels are clearly inclusive, and so, in principle, is the Catholic Church – inclusive across geographic boundaries, across language and ethnicity, and across two millenia of history.
An important part of that is the Magisterium. 2000 years of scholarship and of spirituality must surely include within it much great wisdom, which must be respected and treasured. I am particularly grateful for those giffts from which I have personally benefited: the wisdom in Ignatian spirituality, the teaching apostolate of the Dominicans and the missionary zeal of so many. I take the value of the Magisterium very seriously indeed, as teaching authority. I also take pride in the history of the church in its struggle against oppression, in South Africa and elsewhere. The Catholic Church took the first steps to defy the apartheid laws and admit people to its schools without regard to ethnic background; spoke out in pastoral letters against the sheer iniquity of apartheid laws; gave succour and support to political detainees and their families; intervened as peacemakers in vicious ethnic violence in the killing fields of Natal before the 1994 election; and worked as peace monitors and electoral educators in the build up to that historic election. I am proud to say that I myself was a part of the work of the church Peace & Justice activities at the time, which is why I am so disappointed that the Church’s insistence on siding with the oppressed does not extend to sympathy and understanding for those sexual minorities whose oppression arises from the Church’s own actions. Continue reading Catholic Magisterium and Me
On my Catholic Teaching page yesterday, Ignatius Benedict posted a comment which drew a response from me, leading to further exchanges from each of us. Ignatius Benedict has his own blog In the Roman Catacombs, which I respect but often disagree with, and we clearly have very different views on church and authority, so I suggested that on that matter we should now agree to differ and close that particular discussion.
However, reflecting on his comments, and those posted by Conway on the same page earlier, I realised that this page is one that I have neglected for too long. The reasons I think are understandable. In setting up this site 6 months ago, I built a structure that intially represented ambition and intention rather than achievement, reflected in pages that were set up as templates without content. As time has passed, I have tried to build up the content on three fronts simultaneously: a series of regular front page postings reflecting mostly personal opinions and reflections, prompted by events in the news or in my life, or ideas as they occur to me ; a series of information pages which attempt to build up information on faith and sexuality from a range of perspectives (church, history, scripture, and so on); and an expanding set of books pages.
These inner inforamtion pages are the most difficult for me: I am very conscious that I ahve no particular expertise or training in these fields, and so I depend on sharing information that I have gleaned from others. Also, inevitably I find it easier and more useful for me personally to time my time on the topics in which I am personally most interested, and about which I feel most confident. So these pages ahve been more neglected than others, and Church Teaching most of all.
Excuses though are not good enough. I personally have limited interest in the detail of Church teaching, but others do. I will henceforth make a greater effort to research and report on the official teaching. Be warned, though, that in doing so there will be some surprises. For as I noted in response to James, the official teaching, once you go beond the simple headlines coming out of the Vatican, are not nearly as clearcut and simple as one would think.
In the meantime, until I have been able to flesh out my thinking in more organised fashion, you may like to check out the interchange in the comments boxes, which has now become quite an extended exchange – and by all means, go ahead and make your own contributions.
The converse of course, is also true: remaining in the closet carries clear and demonstrable costs. Denying oneself honest sexual expression leads either to the repression of a natural human instinct, or to a life of subterfuge, of deceit, of fear of being discovered, and of feelings of anguished guilt. This surely cannot be healthy, either mentally or spiritually.
Continue reading The Tyranny of the Clerical Closet
For a long time I resisted writing about the assorted scandals of clerical sexual abuse from around the world. After the Irish Ryan report though, I broke my silence, writing for the first time of own experiences, which I presented as just a preamble, declaring my interest, and promised more. You may be wondering what has happened to the rest of reflection on the topic.
In fact, the theme is far from forgotten or neglected, occupying a great deal of my thinking time – and the more I think about it, the wider the scope becomes. It may not be immediately obvious, but a good portion of what I have written over the past few weeks is part of the argument I am developing. (Indeed, it could be stated that almost everything I put onto this site is part of my argument – but that is jumping rather too far ahead.)
For now, I would just like to restate what I have published this far and how it fits in to the bigger picture. Then, I will point to the material which is in preparation, and an outline of where I am headed.
Starting from the beginning: I wrote earlier of the reasons for my initial silence :
“1) This is personal.
2) The issues are far more complex and multifaceted then press reports, or popular commentary, would lead us to believe.
3) Too often, those attempting to spell out in honesty the complexities and subtleties of the issues, are simply branded as apologists for evil.”
Of these three, I have fully explained the first, and there is nothing more to be said. (If you missed this little personal memoir, you may see the two posts combined on the page “Sexual Abuse: My Experience” ). Of the third, I think it will be clear by the end that I am anything but an apologist.
It is the second item, the many facts of the issue, that is the problem. This very complexity leaves me having to spin out what is far too often presented in a few glib sentences and stock phrases over many posts, slipping into what appear to be unrelated digressions. They are not unrelated at all.
Some of you may have seen my earlier post some months back on Bishop Geoffrrey Robinson’s book, “Confronting Sex and Power in the Catholic Church”, in which he argues that the three primary causes of clerical sexual abuse are sexual immaturity in some individual priests; enforced celibacy; and excessively centralised power structures in the church.
It was because enforced celibacy is central to the problem, that I wrote about the Myth of Priestly Celibacy. I will follow this up shortly by expanding on how enforced celibacy leads to abuse. (My recent items on coming out were not only because they were appropriate to Pride week: they were also important because sexual honesty is crucial to mental health, and so key to this discussion). It will also be necessary to say more about the problem of excessively centralised power in the church – although it will be obvious to my regular readers that this is something I touch on constantly.
This alone does not deal with the full complexity of the problem. I noted when I first wrote about abuse that the language is gravely inadequate to the reality, which is covers a wider range of practices, all lumped together into a single term. I want to show how the problem is much wider, and there is a sense in which we are all, at some level, victims of clerical abuse of some kind.
Conventional responses to the problem are also in my view grossly inadequate. Simply pointing fingers at the perpetrators and the Bishop who covered up the scandal, attempting to make amends with financial payouts, does not even scratch the surface of the healing process required. Instead, in looking towards a more viable approach, I have been recalling the approach of South Africa in dealing with the appalling atrocities committed in the name of apartheid, or of the “struggle” against it. Key to this was the Truth & Reconciliation Commission, magnificently led by Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Dealing with this, and my personal response to the TRC, wil require a short digression into South African history, and to some reflection on the concept of truth.
Only then will I finally be able to present my full conclusions:
- A full understanding of the problem of clerical abuse will show that at some level, we are all victims;
- By allowing the church to persist in the exercise of excessive power, and to pervert the truth for a twisted sexual theology, we are all at some level complicit, and share to some degree in the blame;
- But by simply getting on with our lives, by ignoring those parts of sexual doctrine which are obviously untenable, by showing more sensitivity and compassion in our local parishes than the institutional church does in its documents , and by speaking up vigourously against abuse (of all kinds) wherever we encounter it, we are also, thankfully, already part of the solution. By asserting our right of participation as formulated at Vatican II, creating if necessary our own structures and forums to have our vocies heard, we can extend still further this healing.
I hope you will stay with me as I elaborate this argument in the weeks ahead.
The Paddywhack and Me (personal)
More Worms: Abuse, continued (personal)
Until the 12th century, Christian priests led sexual lives resembling those of lay people: some priests and lay people alike embraced voluntary celibacy, others did not. Then, at the First Lateran Council of 1123 , celibacy was imposed as a rule on all priests. The circumstances and reaction at the time are interesting. John Boswell argues that among the groups strongly promoting the rule were priests who had no wives or concubines, but did have boyfriends. After noting that Pope Leo IX, who was the first pontiff to take action against married clergy, had shown no interest in acting against homosexual practices by priests or bishops, Boswell continues with:
“Contemporaries, at least, were quick to note that gay priests were more willing than heterosexual ones to enforce prohibitions against clerical marriage“;
“There is some evidence of a power struggle between gay and married clergy over whose predilection would be stigmatized.”
In the Eastern church, orthodox priests never adopted the rule, and were horrified by the practice in the West. An anonymous Byzantine tract of c 1274, quoted in Judith Herrin’s “Byzantium“, asks plaintively,
“Why do you priests not marry?… The Church does not forbid the priest to take a wife, but you do not marry. Instead you have concubines and your priest sends his servant to bring him his concubine and puts out the candle and keeps her for the whole night.”
In the centuries that followed, this charge (that clergy at all levels no longer married, but continued active sexual lives with concubines) was widely accepted. Indeed, sexual scandals even at the level of the papacy were one of the factors that led to the Reformation. Somehow, in subsequent centuries, many Catholics seem to have adopted the belief that since celibacy is the rule, it is now also the practice. This is hogwash. It never has been, and never will be.
It is well known that there has been a haemorrhaging of good men from the priesthood over the last half century, many of them leaving the priesthood explicitly to marry. It is delusional to suppose that these men kept themselves sexually chaste until after leaving; it is equally delusional to suppose that all those who maintained active sexual relationships, left the priesthood. I myself have a personal friend who left the priesthood only when he ‘had to get married’ to the religious sister he had impregnated. Note the sequence: first he got her pregnant, then he left the priesthood.
In the concluding chapter of his book, “Global Catholicism”, Ian Linden writes of the state of the church in the 21st century. One of his sections is titled “The Universal Crisis of the Celibate Priesthood.” Among other damaging effects, he notes:
“The number of Catholic priests worldwide in clandestine , and often exploitative, multiple sexual relationships of different duration and kind has undermined the examplary witness of those freed by celibacy for a lifetime of service. Promiscuous – and paedophile- clergy have been a disaster for the post-conciliar Church, not to speak of their victims’ suffering. Clerical sexual conduct has given rise in many parishes to a myriad of intractable problems. So the moral issue for many lay Catholics in some countries became not whether the priest was failing to keep his vow of celibacy – failure was increasingly taken for granted – but whether he was sleeping with a married woman, failing to care for the children brought into the world, or indeed had more than one sexual partner, in short the degree to which the relationship was socially damaging and individually abusive.”
It gets worse. Referring to the consequences of the emergence of HIV/AIDS, he writes:
“But it soon emerged that one consequence of the pandemic was that promiscuous priests, for fear of infection, were shifting their attentions to the local nuns on the assumption that they would be free of the virus”, prompting their Superiors to challenge the bishops, without success, to protect their congregations from predatory clergy.
There is plenty of anecdotal evidence to support these contentions. In The Future of the Celibacy Debate lies in Africa, not Miami Collen Kochivar-Baker writes about the situation in the Central African Republic, where it seems that bishops and priests for years have been living openly with wives and families:
“Africa News had reported Monday that Archbishop Pomodimo and several priests in his archdiocese would be sanctioned ‘for adopting a moral attitude which is not always in conformity with their commitments to follow Christ in chastity, poverty and obedience’.”
In Zimbabwe, the otherwise impressive and respected Bishop Ncube has resigned after as sexual scandal. From Rocco Palma’s “Whispers in the Loggia”:
“Ncube’s resignation was accepted after the 62 year-old prelate was accused of adultery in what, at the time, the archbishop maintained was a “well-orchestrated plan” by Mugabe and his allies to discredit Ncube for his globally-noticed protests of the country’s authoritarian rule.
Several months later, the prelate admitted to the affair in a documentary interview.” In the same post, Pollo also refers to situation in Bangui.
There have been many instances publicised in the West (and many more unpublicised), of which the case of Fr Mario Cutie in Miami is just the most recently prominent. Nor have the sexual partners been restricted to women. Censor Librorum at Nilhil Obstathas written on the voracious sexual appetite of the late Cardinal Spellman for young men, and former Milwaukee archbishop Rembert Weakland has recently come out publicly on his experience as a gay Bishop in the church.
A sexual appetite is a fundamental human urge. Modern research shows clearly that healthy, active expression of this urge contributes to physical and mental health. While I fully accept that voluntary celibacy is entirely possible and acceptable for those who embrace it willingly in maturity, I have grave misgivings about imposing it by compulsion.
The pretence of priestly celibacy is not just a myth: the consequences are intensely damaging, in many ways, to the whole Church and its people. I will expand on these consequences later.
Last night’s Mass in Soho was eventful for three different reasons – over and above the Mass itself. Before Mass, I was interviewed for the first time by a reader, a visiting journalism student from Phoenix, Arizona. After Mass, we arranged a screening of the powerful documentary movie, “For the Bible Tells Me So”. I have written of this before (and hope to do so again), but a second viewing was welcome. This was an entirely new venture, undertaken with some uncertainty whether people would stay for a further 90 minutes after Mass and refreshments, but we need not have worried. Close on 30 gay men stayed behind – and our token straight woman. (Where were our lesbian sisters, I wonder?). The response was overwhelmingly positive, and we will undoubtedly repeat the exercise on other occasions.
But we were still not done. After the screening, were introduced to another visitor, Michael B. Kelly from Australia, founder ofRainbow Sash Australia, a noted retreat director and a writer on spirituality from an explicitly gay male perspective. He is in London to present a paper at an academic conference on spiritualityin which he is to argue (if I understand him correctly) that gay men, by reflecting and sharing on their erotic experiences and using them in their own practice of spirituality, can make a valuable contribution to spirituality in the wider church. This is a paper that I dearly long to read when I have the chance – and hope to persuade Michael to allow me to post it here. After a brief meeting at the church, I was determined to continue the discussion, so accompanied Michael and others to supper in Soho, where we enjoyed further lengthy conversation on matters religious and sexual. I will meet up with him again, and will certainly write more about his work and insights on other ocassions.
I have not as yet had the good fortune to read it for myself, but on the strength of my meeting with him, and the reviews I have read, I would heartily urge you to hunt down a copy and read it for yourself.
From a perspective which is gay, but not Catholic:
“While the dyspeptic (iconoclastic?) Christopher Hitchens is content to go on bashing his straw-man ‘God’ (see God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything, 2007), a more interesting set of insights into that tired, overworked tradition has come from what might seem to be an unlikely source — a self-professed Gay man and, moreover, one who knows from first-hand experience the shortcomings of his Church (specifically, its Roman Catholic incarnation). For Michael Bernard Kelly, as David Marr puts it, has ‘has come out but stayed in’—rather than quitting a homophobic Church in disgust, he is pushing for it to renovate itself from within. A potent collection of thoughtful writings by Kelly, the noted Australian Catholic dissident, Seduced by Grace gathers essays, articles, letters and talks he has produced over almost a decade, from late 1998 to May 2004, that are at once an acutely accurate critique of the shortcomings of the Church and a poignant testimonial to the heroic spirit that has, at times, invigorated it.
Kelly the activist is (in)famous in Australia. He was one of the founders of the Rainbow Sash movement that has been a thorn in Cardinal George Pell’s side, with its public challenge to the Catholic Church’s treatment of Gay and Lesbian people (the movement has been taken up in the United States, also) and in this role, he has become a prominent media spokesperson for Gay Catholics. But as is clear from the opening piece in this collection, “On the Peninsula, alone with God,” Kelly’s activism is grounded in contemplative practice. He has produced a stimulating video lecture series, “The Erotic Contemplative: the spiritual journey of the Gay Christian” (through Joseph Kramer’s Erospirit Institute) and leads Gay spirit retreats at Easton Mountain, in New York State, as well as in Australia and the U.K. His voice reaches loudly and clearly across the once impassable divide between eros and spiritus. Kelly is now working on a doctorate in the field of Christian mysticism and Gay experience at an Australian university.
Raised in an Irish Catholic family in Melbourne and educated in Church schools, Kelly was smitten early with the religious life and served as an altar boy, assisting priests in the celebration of Mass, as all good Catholic sons would do. As a teenager, he was inspired by the life and example of Francis of Assisi —“Who could resist a dancing saint?” he asks in his short piece on the inspiring 12th Century figure. He actually joined the Franciscans at 17, but eventually left the Order, and while remaining celibate, continued to work as a religious education specialist and campus minister in Catholic schools and universities for a further seventeen years, before taking the fateful decision to come out, and to come to terms with his sexuality — a decision which, of course, cost him his job. But he continued his studies in theology (including a master’s in spirituality in San Francisco) and today inspires many men with his revisioning of a spiritual life not predicated on a denial of the body. Kelly says his dick keeps him honest.
More power to him. This is the kind of “real world” starting point that earths his spirituality and renders his positions convincing to those of us who have found more breathing room outside the stifling environs of Christian idealism.”
Read the full review at the White Crane.
Or, for a perspective which is Catholic, but not gay, go to Catholica Australia:
“By the time I’d finished reading I was convinced that every family with a gay* member should read this book — but I soon corrected that to everyone — full stop! Michael has something very important to say and we do ourselves and society a disservice if we don’t give him a hearing. As Catholics, we pay lip-service to any ideas of ‘compassion, sensitivity and respect’ if we don’t at the very least enter into a dialogue with gay people — which includes truly listening to them — and Michael B Kelly is certainly a worthy spokesperson.
“As a woman I don’t pretend to understand what it must be fully like to inhabit the body and psyche of a man, yet I love men, and particularly my husband and my own son. As a heterosexual I likewise find it extremely difficult to personally understand what it must be like to inhabit the psyche of someone who is sexually attracted to others of their own sex. It’s almost like me trying to imagine what it must be like to have been born black. In the music industry I have worked with many people who are gay, and some of them have become close friends.
Michael’s voice is a prophetic one. It enables us to better understand what it must be like to feel imprisoned as one of the sectors of society who are discriminated against and maligned because of the life circumstances they were borne into and have very little control over. Michael Bernard Kelly is a man who carries himself with great dignity and, in a very real sense, provides leadership not only to gays but to other sectors in society who are discriminated against and maligned unjustly.”
I was intrigued by the reference to Kelly as ‘out’ (as gay), but still ‘in’ (the Catholic Church). Some of my readers may recall that that was virtually the title of my opening statement when I set up this blog – “Welcome: Come In, and Come Out“. We clearly share a lot in common.
I repeat: find this book, and read it.
In the wake of the disappointing, but expected, Californian ruling on Prop 8, it is worth stepping back and reflecting on the gains elsewhere, and especially on the impact on the churches.
It is well known how rapidly legal recognition of same sex marriage has progressed: first in Iowa, by court order, then in rapid succession Vermont and Maine by legislative action. New Hampshire is not quite there yet, but it is likely just a matter of time – as it is in New York and New Jersey. DC has voted to recognise marriages legally conducted elsewhere, Washington has approved expansion of their civil union regime to ‘everything but marriage’, and in many other states and city jurisdictions, there have been less dramatic, incremental gains. These have been widely reported and celebrated.
One big advance, and the one that I suspect may be more important for its long term impact on the churches of the world, has drawn remarkably little attention. The day before the Iowa announcement, and drowned out of the news by the drama of developments in Iowa and New England, The Swedish parliament, with the minumum of fuss or fanfare, and the support of all the major parties, voted to make Sweden the fith country in Europe to recognise same sex marriage. For those of us in Europe, especially if we are committed to the ideal of ever closer union, this is obviously more significant than the stop-start progress in some minor American states and cities. But I believe that the siginificance for all of us is substantial, particularly if we are professed Christians. Why?
In the US, and also here in the UK, the legal provisions for same sex marriage or civil unions/partnerships, where they exist, are quite specifically for ‘civil’ marriage or partnerships. Indeed, the British legislation specifically prohibits the use of religious language or premises for the ceremony; increasinlgy, US legislators are cradting thier gains by spelling out the the legislation proposed places no obligations on religious minsters, or even staff.
The Swedish situation is quite different. The legislation quite specifically provides for legal recognition of either civil or church marriage. This has huge implications for the Swedish Lutheran Church, which until recently was the official state church of the country, with special status, even funding, in the legal system. This has changed, but the informal ties and status remain strong. So what was the response of the church? Did they start weeping and wailing and gnashing there teeth? Did they lament the moral decadence of the country? Did they offer grudging toleration, with ifs and buts to demand a right of opt-out? None of the above. a final decision awaits a full synod later in the summer, but the provisional, formal response was that the church would understand and ‘excuse’ any pastor who, as a matter of conscience, felt s/he could NOT preside over same sex weddings. That’s right – the specail consideration and understanding goes to those who are opposed: the default position, buy Sweden’s major church, is to take in their stride same sex marriage conducted in church. Unless I have wildly misread the situation, this is likely to be the standard position after the synod later this year.
This will have important ripple effects, notably elsewhere in the EU. Pressure for marriage equality will undoubtedly continue to spread across the EU, particularly in Western Europe. When (not if), equality reaches Germany and Austria, the German Lutheran church, and also the German and Austrian Catholic churches, will have to consider carefully their position. All of them have special state recognition and funding. Even in advance of legislation, just the propect of pressure for marriage, is forcing the churches into hard tactical consideration – faced with an emergin gay marriage lobby, the Portuguese Bishops proposed civil partnerships as a compromise solution – thus embracing the very proposal that there English counterparts strongly opposed a few years back.
In the English speaking world, the troubles caused to the Anglican Communion (which includes the Episcopalians) by disputes over homosexuality are well known. But while skirmishing continues, it is clear that over the longer term view, the tide is clearly turning in the direction of greater acceptance. The continuning expansion of legal recognition of civil marriage across the USA is already forcing more and more individual pastors, and local jursdictions, into fresh consideration of their own stance – and an increasing minority are coming down on the side of at least blessing, and possibly solemnising, these unions in church. Every synod season sees new debates on these. Where there is not yet victory, the margins of defeat are generally narrowing.
For me, the most heartening aspect of this, is the increasing number of reports I am seeing of sincere religious clergy of goodwill, who have found themselves prayerfully re-examining scriptures, theology and church history in search of guidance – and concluding that established church strictures against homosexuallity are without scriptural foundation, and misguided. (The recently released survey of ‘mainline protestant clergy’ attitudes to SSM has some fascinating figures on this).
There is no longer any doubt: marriage equality is spreading steadily across the world, and across the US. As it does so, the churches will increasingly be forced to grapple with, and re-examine, their own beliefs. In doing so, many will reverse long-standing opposition to same sex relationships, and see the value of recognising commitment, whatever the orientation or gender of the partners.
The Catholic church will be behind the trend – but will not resist indefinitely. Here, too, truth will triumph in the end.
Same Sex Marriage: coming (soon) to a church near you – but not yet to a Catholic parish.
As a child in Catholic primary schools, I vividly remember memorising, page by page, the catechism of the church: first a slim little red version, later a slightly fatter grey-green version for older students.
“Who made you?
God made me.”
“Why did God make you?
To know Him, to love Him, to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in the next.”
But by the time I reached secondary school, Vatican II was in progress, enthusiastically embraced by the priest who taught me RE for the next 5 years. I never again saw that little catechism.
There is a quaint view in some quarters that to be a Catholic requires that one suspend all powers of the intellect, and meekly agree to believe, and to live, exactly as one is told. This view I emphatically reject. One of the key parables in the Gospels is that of the 10 talents. We are taught that the Lord requires us to use all the talents we are given, for his greater glory and to further His reign on earth. Surely the intellect is one of the greatest talents He has bestowed on us? (Another is our sexuality, which should also be used – but that is another story.)
Michael Bayley, at The Wild Reed, writes an impressive blog from what he calls a ‘progressive, gay, Catholic perspective.’ I am a regular reader, admiring in particular the way he has of presenting not only stimulating personal views, but also the best of writing from a range of others. He also has excellent cross-references and links, so that I find that his archives alone are worth spending hours on, to explore specific themes. But in yesterday’s post, he shares a letter he has received from a reader who states that
“this blog is just an exercise in false advertisement. For while you may in fact be progressive and gay, you are most definitely not Catholic.”
In making this assertion, the writer cites as evidence Michael’s regular criticisms of the hierarchy, his occasional writings on other faith traditions, and on some of his other activities, such as the work of the Spirit of St Stephen’s. The comment boxes at the Wild Reed have been filling rapidly, with readers rushing to Michael’s defence. I made my own response there, so I do not intend to elaborate further on Michael, and my support for him. (Go to the Wild Reed yourself. Read the interchange, the recent posts which led to it, mull over the comments. But also explore his valuable archives on dissent, and on what it means to be a Catholic).
What I do want to do here is to explore some of my own reflections on this interchange, as it affects me and this blog.
Ever since the approach of Lent, I have been struggling to get my thoughts down on the keyboard, and this is part of the reason. I have never been one to see Lent as primarily a time of sacrifice: rather, it is for me a time of reflection, in preparation for the great feast of the Easter resurrection. My reflections this year have left me wanting to resolve some personal issues in developing a closer relationship with my local parish and diocese. These do not lend themselves to public writing.
Furthermore, in setting up this blog in the first place, it was never my intention to devote it to reflexive, incessant attacks on the established church. This is what I wrote in my founding statement:
“….to all you who are gay Catholics or lapsed Catholics, a plea and invitation: come in and come out. If you have lapsed, come back in to the Church, and help to make a difference. If you remain a regular churchgoer, come in deeper – take on more active ministry. Let there be no doubt of your credentials as Catholic. Then, cautiously and gradually, come out as gay
…….. Coming out in the church will be more difficult, so you will need even more support. I hope that this site will help you to find a suitable support network for face to face contact and discussion. But the virtual society of the blogosphere can also represent support of a kind – and that, we definitely aim to provide.”
My track record since then has been less balanced. (Unfortunately, simple responding to current news has left me with little choice). Still, I am mindful that my intention from the start was to focus on the ‘Good News’ that is inherent in the Gospels, in the gift of our sexuality, and in the great tradition of the Catholic Church.
So, the debate at the Wild Reed has brought into focus how I can (belatedly) reflect in this blog, part of my own Lenten resolution. For the next few weeks, I will be attempting to present a more positive view of the Church which, for all its failings, remains my spiritual home.
- Pray, Don’t Pay, Disobey: The Catholic Revolution Has Begun. (Queering the Church)
- What IS a Gay Catholic to do? A Question Comes Out of the Closet. (Queer Spirituality)
- The Defenders of the Church and the Apologetic Challenge of Catholicism Today(Bilgrimage)
- Gay Catholic Theologian David Berger Tells All: Catholic Right Gentleman’s Club, Closeted Homophobic Church Officials (Bilgrimage)
- Marion Ronan on Archbishop Dolan’s History of American Catholic Schools(bilgrimage.blogspot.com)
What all these have in common is that they are concerned with power in the church – its extension, its abuse, or attempts to defy or resist it. so I picked up again “Confronting Power & Sex in the Catholic Church”, by Bishop Geoffrey Robinson. I am pleased that I did. Published in 2007, this book has much to say that is directly relevant to current events. Although I have not yet finished reading, and this is far from a formal review, I have already found much of value that I thought would be worth sharing.
Bishop Robinson was Auxiliary Bishop of Sydney from 1984, and in 1994 was appointed by the Australian Bishops to a position of leadership in the Australian church’s response to revelations of sexual abuse. Following his retirement in 2004, he felt freer in speaking his mind, leading to the publication of this valuable book.