“Home is where
the heart is” Can the Roman Rite be “home” for me?
Whimsically, I
selected “Home Is Where the Heart Is: Being LGBTQI & Home in the Catholic
Church” as the title for
webinar to sponsored by Call to Action (register here if you are interested). The
description of the webinar is
I am so often asked, “How can you stay in THE Church?” For me it
all comes down to the adage that “Home is where the heart is.” Being
“home” and in relationship with “family” is always a complicated dance of
acceptance, boundaries, and frankly, God’s grace. In this webinar, I will
share some of my experiences in the struggle as a gay man in and out of the
church as a pastoral musician, AIDS provider, and family member. Our dialogue
will include an open forum for discussion and mutual support. To get us
started, I propose a few guiding questions:
- How do/can LGBTQI Catholics reconcile who they are and still invest in the faith they love?
- What “best practices” have worked for you/others in navigating the LGBTQI-Church relationship?
- In what ways can Catholicism spiritually nourish and support our LGBTQI brothers and sisters in their faith journey?
- Did to take on more than I can “chew?”
As you may or may not know, I am a cradle to, as
it appears, grave, Roman. Formed by a
father who was an iconic U of Notre Dame guy and church musician, mom who embodies
the mystical tradition of the church, Dominican Sisters and friars, and on and
on…you get the picture. I lived the
agony of the reforms of the Second Vatican Council defending the changes and
embracing all that came with these monumental reforms in a household where the
Notre Dame man felt betrayed.
As a result, playing out my story and my dear
friend Michael would say, my pastoral music ministry has been one of moving
Roman congregations along the way the path to a “fuller more conscious”
participation in liturgy. In my
non-Roman rite work, I have applied the same theological foundations to
resolving congregational conflicts (They always happen around music.).
This same foundation has shaped my work in public
health, education and swimming instruction.
We are called to be community. I
hold these opening paragraphs of Music in
Catholic Worship close to my heart (emphasis is mine),
1.
A person is a Christian because through the Christian community he has met
Jesus Christ, heard his word in invitation, and responded to him in faith.
Christians gather at Mass that they may hear and express their faith again in
this assembly and, by expressing it, renew and deepen it.
2.
We do not come to meet Christ as if he were absent from the rest of our lives.
We come together to deepen our awareness of, and commitment to, the action of
his Spirit in the whole of our lives at every moment. We come together to
acknowledge the love of God poured out among us in the work of the Spirit, to
stand in awe and praise.
4.
People in love make signs of love, not
only to express their love but also to deepen it. Love never expressed
dies. Christians' love for Christ and for each other, Christians' faith in
Christ and in each other, must be expressed in the signs and symbols of
celebration or it will die.
There you have
it; I am Roman.
My
reconciliation and peace with this admission has not come without struggle and
constant reflection.
I always come
back to this same, all-important phrase “People in love make signs of love….” I/We
are recipients of that great love that is unfailing, unquestioning, and
unimaginable. Wrapped in this love, I
know the truth of the psalmist, “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom
should I fear? The lord’s is my life’s refuge, of whom should I be afraid?”
So how does
this make it possible to be a member of the Roman rite? Because I am. Fully
initiated into the family of faith. Period.
I/we all come
from families where, no matter how well meaning, have their own level of
dysfunction. There is no “perfect”
family. Why? In life, each individual takes from the experience what he or she
does and those experiences form him or her.
Family systems are tough, complex and ever human As adults, we respond
to these earliest relationships as we accept, reject, modify, manage, reframe,
re-envision, heal, suffer, rejoice, hold warm memories, relive nightmares…
In the end, we
either chose to make peace with that kaleidoscope of experience or not.
So it is with
the hierarchical structure of the Roman Rite.
It is an institution into which I was born. Like the Department of Motor Vehicles, it is
a bureaucratic organization that embodies the best and worst of such a
structure. They are enduring, reliable
and highly structured. They are also very slow to change, riddled with
political intrigue, and exist to maintain themselves. Ultimately, I had to ask myself, can I going
to carry anger toward this nameless, faceless entity at the expense of my
relationship with God and the community of faith?
My answer, I
am going to try to dissipate my anger and develop a management plan that brings
me the best of the tradition without the persistent, dull pain of expecting
anything from an institution.
I am a “person
in love” looking to “express my love to deepen it” with Jesus, in Jesus. The tradition, not the institution, offers a
richness in history and spirituality upon which I can draw. For example, a constant thread that runs
through the tradition is the gathering of faithful seekers eager to find a new
way. Time and again, these faithful
became communities that embraced the gospel message in a way, contemporary for
their time. Sometimes these communities
survived into future generations; sometimes they came to a close more
quickly.
The annual
meeting of the National Catholic AIDS Conference was a powerful expression of
this coming together. Each year people
of faith, many not Romans, from strata of society, ecclesial rank, sexual
orientation and life experience join to be Eucharist. We gathered in reflection, discussion, parties and ritual to
make these few days the “source and summit” of our lived experience of
faith.
Models of Church, the classic reflection by Avery
Dulles, SJ, provides an alternative framework for placing this experience in
context. Only one of the models he
proposes is the Church as Institution.
Although Dulles ultimately rejected his own reflections in favor of a
single model, they do tap into a richness that opens rich pathways for me. Church Herald, Servant, Sacrament, Community,
and School of Discipleship each offer an important vision of the Living God as
expressed as the people of the font. As
we rise from the font these reflections define the community to which we belong
and the road to freedom in faith.
So, as the
institution works to maintain itself, even in the face of Pope Francis, we the
People of God move forward. God knows,
no one is created “intrinsically disordered.”
No one is outside the Love that is God.
No one is beyond the reach of a home in the company of saints. We
are created in the image and likeness of God. We are of God. How can God, then,
hate an aspect of God? Can God create
and aspect of God’s self as disordered?
Ultimately,
words hurt. The language of fear and
hate that the Institution continues to promulgate are hurtful and
dangerous. They do not, however, define
us unless we embrace that definition.
The Institution, like our family of origin, organizes our life in our
earliest experiences. As adults we grow and have the personal responsibility to
make peace with these formative years as an essential element of becoming an
integrated adult.
The same holds
true with the Institutional Church. To
grow beyond our childhood understanding of Church and faith, we face the
realities of the Institution directly and look beyond their limitations to the ever-living
love of God.
Rome is my home, my family, dysfunctional, flawed, sinful and human as it is. I was formed and shaped in this morass of Incarnational mess. As an adult, I chose to focus on the gifts of bountiful grace that are mine despite all; focus on the love I have known as the People of God "share signs of love."
The great invitation of God, is to live under the shadow of love and live in great delight. This is the eternal sign of love.
Such it is,
living in the Diaspora.
Sir
Edward Bairstow
I sat down under his shadow with great
delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting
house, and his banner over me was love. (Song of Songs 2:3,4)
