Claiming Inheritance

 A few years ago, a September  issue of the local Sunday paper featured a full-page ad calling on people of faith to join together on September 16 for a prayer vigil on the steps of the State Capitol.  The ad, signed by clergypersons from various churches in Indiana, called on us to pray for an end to discrimination and violence against the gay and lesbian community. 

I first heard about the ad when someone from the gospel choir at my parish mentioned it during an intention at Mass that Sunday. I imagine that my reaction is one that many gay people have, but I instinctively started to cringe, sure that this person was going to be critical of the ad.  I needn't have worried. The person offering the intention simply noted how few Catholic Churches or members of the Catholic clergy had signed the ad and prayed for all Catholic churches to be accepting and welcoming of gay men and lesbians.

I wish I could adequately convey what such a declaration of faith does for a gay person.  So often, it's easy for a gay man or a lesbian to remain invisible, whether at work, at home, or at church.  We're socialized to expect to be demoralized, ridiculed, ostracized--thus, my instinctual response to hearing the words "gay and lesbian" spoken in church.  To be affirmed so directly only strengthens our faith and nourishes our soul.  We feel empowered to live as God created us and to share our spiritual gifts freely and joyfully.

I volunteered to be an usher at the prayer vigil.  It was a dignified, Spirit-filled event of song and reflection.  Only one protester showed up with a placard.  A family passing by read his sign.  The youngest member of the family decided to practice his reading skills for his parents: "The Bible says we must execute homosexuals."

At the vigil, one of my fellow ushers told me that he is a member of a downtown Episcopal church that is a haven for gay people within that denomination.  When he found out that I attended a Roman Catholic church, his demeanor changed and he bitterly told me that he too used to be a Roman Catholic. He then launched into a diatribe that clearly revealed his pain with a church he felt had failed and betrayed him on many levels.  His disdain for my decision to stay in the Catholic Church was apparent, bewildered by a perceived complicity on my part in perpetuating such overt oppression against "my own kind."

It's an odd thing about oppression-the opposite effect that you would expect often occurs.  Admittedly, it's as painful to hear the Catholic Church call you "morally disordered" and your relationships "intrinsically evil" as it is to have a car full of fellow human beings shout "Faggot!" at you as they drive by.  But do I stop walking in my neighborhood? Do I stop attending the Church that I love?  Some do.  And some find their way back home, strengthened by the oppression that was supposed to weaken them in their cause.  As the gospel choir sang that morning, "Through Jesus Christ all of the old has passed away for we are created anew."  Through the sacraments of the Catholic Church, I am given the chance to allow Christ to envelop my heart and fortify me in my journey.

I wish that my fellow usher's heart had been more open to the grace that the Catholic Church offers to those who stick with it.  I wish that there would be been more Catholic heroes at the prayer vigil, to say with their presence that the Catholic Church is for everyone, that the message of love and inclusiveness witnessed at the prayer vigil is the message of the Catholic Church as well.

I too spent many years as an angry outcast from the church of my childhood, denigrating those gay men and lesbians who stayed in the Catholic Church. But by the grace of the Holy Spirit, I decided to take back the power I had given away to the institutional Catholic Church by leaving my faith and reclaim my rightful place as a child of God and brother of Jesus.

On the morning that a Catholic hero stood up during Mass on behalf of gay and lesbian Catholics, we sang the Our Father. With hands clasped and arms raised, I felt the energy pass through me to every member of the congregation, and back to me again. I thought about that intention again, believing that this energy--God's peace and love--was not just passing through us but through other Catholic congregations, outcasts from the Church, and the world around us. I continued to pray that other Catholic churches may feel that energy from our prayers and become accepting and welcoming of all God's children, realizing the gifts that all of us bring to the table.

 -- Drew, Indianapolis

Take Up Your Cross and Follow Me

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.

     Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, "God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you."

     He turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do."  Then Jesus said to his disciples, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. (Matthew 16:16-20)

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 Jesus tells his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem where he will suffer and be executed and that anyone who wants to follow him must, similarly, take up his cross and do as he does. There are Catholics who relish these words.  For centuries we have had “religious” people who beat themselves with whips and chains, “walked” on their knees to religious shrines, and/or starved themselves nearly to death so as to prove to Jesus, the crucified Lord, that they were worthy to be with him in heaven.

I think these people miss the point. I think what Jesus was telling his disciples was that if we live in faith, we will put the needs of others ahead of our own desires. If we see one another as children of God, we will also see how to love one another -- and be willing to make sacrifices to help another person in need.    When we are “tuned in” to God, we will often see injustice and suffering in our world.  And when we see injustice, as children of God, as people living “in tune with God” we must act -- even if it involves our own suffering and (God help us!) death.  What Jesus was telling his disciples is that if we live as his brothers and sisters, we may often be shunned, reviled, misunderstood; we may not have a lot of friends.

I believe this, but I also believe that to look only for the sacrifice and the suffering is to miss the point.  The world God has created is too beautiful to be ignored. The people God has created are too beautiful and have too may gifts to be ignored. The gifts God has given me need to be shared; my talents need to be used. I am willing to take up my cross when necessary, but I am looking first for the beauty that is God. 

God is love. God is also Joy.  

--- Jerry, San Francisco