Young Adult Catholics

Throughout the course of the pontificate of Benedict XVI the Pope has commented on several occasions of incidents of reform and renewal that have occurred within the universal Church; most notably and succinctly, during his Weekly Wednesday General Audiences. In numerous cases, the Holy Father has tied the cause of reform and renewal to certain trends that occurred within the Church in the contexts of monastic and religious life, thus making religious orders a vehicle in some sense  for enacting and implementing new and vibrant forms of living out the Catholic faith.

Yet, as always, Benedict XVI has a very unique idea of what constitutes this renewal and how it is carried out.

On November 11, 2009 the Pope made The Cluniac Reform the topic of reflection for that Wednesday’s Audience. The Holy Father describes eloquently the great French monastery and how it contributed positively not only to the local monastic community but also introduced sentiments and trends that proved beneficial for the entire universal Church. Near the end of the Pope’s reflections, Benedict makes it a point to note that,

“Cluny’s success was assured primarily not only by the lofty spirituality cultivated there but also by several other conditions that ensured its development. In comparison with what had happened until then, the Monastery of Cluny and the communities dependent upon it were recognized as exempt from the jurisdiction of the local Bishops and were directly subject to that of the Roman Pontiff. This meant that Cluny had a special bond with the See of Peter and, precisely because of the protection and encouragement of the Pontiffs the ideals of purity and fidelity proposed by the Cluniac Reform spread rapidly.”

So, in his opinion, the Cluniac example of reform and renewal was not only successful on account of its own unique spiritual and theological integrity; it was special, in the fact that it was directly subject to the Bishop of Rome, thus insuring that “purity” and “fidelity” prevailed throughout the movement.

I wonder if in Benedict XVI’s mind, the Cluniac reform would have been as influential as it was had it been free of this subtle form of Roman control?’

On another occasion, during the General Audience of October 7, 2009 Pope Benedict speaks of St. John Leonardi, one of the towering figures of the Counter Reformation. He paints John as a man who was deeply driven to correcting secular abuses which had crept into the Church and — because of his own personal background in the field of medicine– John saw it as his mission to heal areas of the Church which had become diseased and no longer resembled Christ. The Pope goes on to quote John as declaring,

“…the renewal of the Church must be brought about in her leaders and in their subordinates, both above and below. It must be started by those in charge and extended to their subjects…”

Yet, at the conclusion of his Audience, Pope Benedict sums up St. John Leonardi’s example thusly,

“There is another aspect of St John Leonardi’s spirituality that I would like to emphasize. On various occasions he reasserted that the living encounter with Christ takes place in his Church, holy but frail, rooted in history and in its sometimes obscure unfolding, where wheat and weeds grow side by side (cf. Mt 13: 30), yet always the sacrament of salvation. Since he was clearly aware that the Church is God’s field (cf. Mt 13: 24), St John was not shocked at her human weaknesses. To combat the weeds he chose to be good wheat: that is, he decided to love Christ in the Church and to help make her, more and more, a transparent sign of Christ. He saw the Church very realistically, her human frailty, but he also saw her as being “God’s field”, the instrument of God for humanity’s salvation. And this was not all. Out of love for Christ he worked tirelessly to purify the Church, to make her more beautiful and holy. He realized that every reform should be made within the Church and never against the Church In this, St John Leonardi was truly extraordinary and his example is ever timely. Every reform, of course, concerns her structures, but in the first place must have an effect in believers’ hearts. Only Saints, men and women who let themselves be guided by the divine Spirit, ready to make radical and courageous decisions in the light of the Gospel, renew the Church and make a crucial contribution to building a better world.” Once again, it seems clear that Pope Benedict’s concept of reform is conditional. As long as one does not publicly or fundamentally disagree with the Pope, as the Protestant Reformers did, then their actions can be considered renewing and positively reforming the universal Church.

In the Holy Father’s most recent General Audiences of 2010 he has once again reflected on the cause of “reform and renewal” citing the Franciscan and Dominican Orders as important and visible agents in this initiative. But when we sit back and example these specific Orders, what is the common denominator that unites these monastic communities to the others that the Pope has described in his previous reflections? Ultimately, either by of their own choosing or of a sense of implied necessity, St. Dominic and St. Francis’ concepts of religious life were critiqued and given approval by the Pope. To Benedict, this is the difference between John Leonardi, Francis, and Dominic and their Protestant counterparts–Luther, Calvin, and John Wesley. Recognizing the Pope’s authority as a given is always a necessity when carrying out any sort of reform that is beneficial to the life of the universal Church.

Conveniently, the Holy Father chooses to omit numerous instances of individuals throughout the Church’s history who were part of monastic communities who openly opposed the Pope on several different occasions.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux, one of the great medieval Doctors of the Church, wrote to then Pope Eugenius III–in his De Consideratione– and admonished him; explaining to him that the papacy could only be an instrument of service to the Church, uniting all of its members in charity, rather than lording power and certain prerogatives over some in an authoritarian manner; as had become the rule du jour in the Middle Ages.

St. Catherine of Sienna, another Doctor of the Church, is most notably known for her extremely vocal and public critiques of then Pope Gregory XI–one of the Bishops of Rome who lived in exile in Avignon, France during the Great Western Schism of the fourteenth century in which two different popes were recognized, one in Avignon and one in Rome–which ultimately convinced him to return and resume his rightful position in the ancient See of Peter. St. Catherine also urged Pope Gregory in her letters to reform the clergy–which was notoriously corrupt– and also the way that the Papal States were administered.

One final example is not necessarily connected with monastic life per se, but nonetheless, is still of significant relevance. In the Acts of the Apostles a glimpse into the life of the early first century Church is provided when a dispute is described that ultimately causes a synod (traditionally characterized as the universal Church’s first “Council”) to be convened in Jerusalem to reach consensus and clarification on the issue. The matter at hand was the question of Gentile converts to Christianity and whether they would have to first be circumcised–thereby becoming Jews–in order to be considered followers of Christ. In these early days of Christianity, the apostles and disciples of Jesus still had not clearly distinguished themselves as an entity or movement separate from Judaism. They simply saw themselves as proclaiming Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah that the Jewish people had yearned so long for. Still Peter, John, Paul and most of Jesus’ followers remained observant Jews and saw nothing contradictory in proclaiming Jesus as Lord and Messiah while continuing to worship in the Temple of Jerusalem as well as keeping the laws of Moses.

During the Council of Jerusalem all of these facts were discussed vigorously. Peter, the de facto leader of the Church (usually described in Catholic tradition as the first “pope” even though the office in a full sense had not yet been developed), an ardent practitioner of Judaism, felt that Jesus had intended the Gospel only to be preached to the people of Israel–as God’s unique chosen progeny. Paul on the other hand disagreed deeply and chided Peter openly, saying to him,

“If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?” (Galatians 2:14) 

It was this public rebuke of Peter by Paul that ultimately changed his mind and persuaded him at the Council to render this verdict,

“Brethren, you know that in the early days God made choice among you, that by my mouth the Gentiles should hear the word of the Gospel and believe, And God Who knows the heart bore witness to them, giving them the Holy Spirit just as He did to us; and He made no distinction between us and them, but cleansed their hearts by faith. Now therefore why do you make trial of God by putting a yoke upon the neck of the disciples which neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear? But we believe that we shall be saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, just as they will.” (Acts 15:7-11)

Does this then suggest that even the Pope can be persuaded to have a change of heart on certain issues–even ones of an extremely substantive and personal nature that have to deal with the very core of who we are as human beings–and see things in a new light when enlightened by his brothers?

Of course, Pope Benedict XVI would most likely, probably not see things this way. But the fact remains that throughout the Church’s history numerous saints have spoken out against certain practices and tenets sanctioned by the Pope and other prelates within the Church. It seems that comprehensive reforms only moved forward after points of contention were made to the Bishop of Rome and the necessity of a new way of approaching things was embraced. Thus, loyal dissent–especially in certain monastic contexts–has been a long-held reality of the Church.

But of course, Benedict XVI does not and probably never will see things this way. The ongoing investigation of women religious communities here in the United States proves this. The Vatican sees this women a threat because they think for themselves and have interpreted certain matters in a new, enlightened, forward thinking manner. Instead of seeing this as the Spirit possibly moving in the midst of their communities; the Pope, Cardinal Rode, and other leaders of the Church see this as a potential threat, because these women religious have dared to speak out, in some cases, against some of the Pope’s proclamations and have advocated alternative ways of interpreting the Gospel in light of today’s times. Unfortunately, this Pope is not listening as Pope Gregory did to St. Catherine of Siena.

Pope Benedict would rather listen to those who tell him what he wants to hear, like zealous adherents of Opus Dei. If anything fits Benedict’s criteria for true “reform and renewal” it would be these group within the Church. The fact that it is an autonomous entity, a “personal prelature” ,directly under the jurisdiction of the Pope should be the telling point. Reform to Benedict is only real unless unwavering fidelity to the Roman Magisterium in all circumstances, particularly the Pope, is met.

So, under an oppresive climate such as this how will true and genuine reform endure? The answer might be surprising.

John Allen Jr; Vatican analyst and esteemed journalist for the National Catholic Reporter makes this prediction for progressive-thinking Catholics in his latest work “The Future Church: How Ten Trends Are Revolutionizing the Catholic Church (which was a long-awaited Christmas present :)),

 ”…In a Catholicism shaped by the politics of identity, many religious orders will rediscover precisely those elements that mark them as distinct–wearing habits, for example; engaging in more sustained periods of both individual and common prayer; and less immersion in secular pursuits. This option for a more high-tension style of religious life could in theory produce a revival in religious orders, at least in term of head counts.

On the other hand, any attentive observer of the contemporary Catholic scene also knows that many religious orders in the global North today have a center of gravity considerably to the left of diocesan bodies of priests, or of other Catholic institutions. The leaders of religious orders tend to favor collegial and participatory modes of government, and they often foster a greater liberty for theological innovation than many diocesan priests or lay employees of bishops might enjoy. For that reason, some religious orders may be fairly resistant to the momentum of evangelical Catholicism. If so, this option may create a high-tension model of religious life in another sense–in this case, tension not with the broader culture, but within the Church

Such an option may not be a prescription for larger numbers of vocations, but it could mean that institutions and parishes run by religious orders become the “harbors in the storm” for more liberal Catholics who feel increasingly uncomfortable in other Catholic venues. Liberal Catholics may seek out schools and parishes staffed by religious orders in greater numbers, and they may become more willing to provide financial and logistical support to their various works. Thus it’s possible that both “conservative” and “liberal” orders, and elements within these orders, may find the twenty-first century to be a boom period–the former in terms of vocations and energy, the latter as the refuge of choice for an increasingly beleaguered wing of the Church… ”

                           p. 89-90

So it seems once again that genuine reform and renewal within the Church will once again stem from within the monastic setting. Instead of being interpreted as a global phenomenon, perhaps this is the “creative minority” that Pope Benedict alludes to as the future of Christianity?

Charlotte Allen wrote a thought-provoking article last week about Mary Daly entitled, ‘As the Flame of Catholic Dissent Dies Out’. You can read the article from the Wall Street Journal here:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704586504574654282563939764.html?mod=googlenews_wsj

Mary Daly, theologian and oft criticized feminist recently died and although I am certainly not a fan of all things Mary Daly, I thought it was  too early for such an article. But I certainly think she shared a great wealth of Catholic values. The author cites all the Catholic education Mary and others have (Some could say that the universities they went to weren’t Catholic ‘enough’ but come on, Sandra Schneiders has a doctorate from the Gregorian Institute for Pete’s sake) and I just don’t think it is possible that they pursued that much Catholic education purely to undermine it; people with differing views are not as diabolical as people would like to make them out to be but humans so often demonize ‘the other’. I have a Catholic education and the teachings have SHAPED me into the liberal I am proud to be today. It is because of Church teaching, not because I’m rebelling or rejecting them, that I am who I am today. There are so many facets of our faith; this is why I try to respect all perspectives in Catholicism, because I think they are all a part of the tradition as difficult as that may be to hold them all in tension.

There are some that would say so-called ’orthodox’ Catholics are dissident because they don’t follow all Church teaching. None of us do. Take for instance that over 80% of Catholics believe in the death penalty, something very contrary to Catholic teaching, and only to be considered in VERY rare cases. I don’t say this to engage that whole debate, or judge lest I be judged. It is an example however, of conservative ‘dissent’. I think it would go a long way for everyone, whatever their perspective on things, to realize that they come from a certain frame of reference, see through a certain lens. This isn’t bad or good, just is.

One of the greatest contributions Feminists like Mary Daly passed onto us was being able to live the in the values of feminism while Mary’s life’s work was about fighting for them. I benefit now from being able to live in an almost post-feminism world where so many of the values are in place, and I can celebrate people just being people-for me, one of the values of feminism is about the freedom of all (men and women) to be who they are and be that very well. It’s a privilege to work from there and not have to fight so much.

Even the situation about her banning males from her classroom-men and women both need safe space sometimes and women are new at asking for it, so Mary made it happen. No sexism is ok, but it does ruffle my feathers when a male cries sexism for some minor or fleeting moment when women and other oppressed people, have endured so much for so long. Those on the end of oppression know too well how difficult it is to endure comments from others that are so hurtful, and believe me, people say some majorly hurtful things even when they aren’t meaning to. Ignorance can hurt too, and I wouldn’t expect someone to put themselves in the fire while they are trying to build themselves up.

Lauren Ivory earned a Master of Divinity degree from Aquinas Institute of Theology in St. Louis and completed her chaplain residency at the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio. Originally from Northern Michigan, Lauren is now enjoying her new city of Chicago and working on the north side as a health care chaplain/’storylistener’. When she isn’t working she can be found spending time with friends, reading, exploring unique things about Chicago, traveling to see family and friends, listening to music, and dancing.

“…The Cross stands before us as an eloquent symbol of God’s love for humanity. At the same time the dying Redeemer’s entreaty rings out: ‘My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?’ We often feel this cry of suffering as our own in the painful situations of life that can cause deep distress and give rise to worry and uncertainty. In moments of loneliness and bewilderment, which are not unusual in human life, a believer’s heart can exclaim: the Lord has abandoned me!

However, Christ’s Passion and glorification on the tree of the Cross offer a different key for reading these events. On Golgotha the Father, at the height of His Only-begotten Son’s sacrifice, does not abandon Him, but brings to completion His plan of salvation for all humanity. In His Passion, Death and Resurrection, we are shown that the last word in human existence is not death but God’s victory over death. Divine love, manifested in its fullness in the paschal mystery, overcomes death and sin, which is its cause…”

-The Venerable John Paul II

These words seem fitting when trying to make some kind of sense out of the devastation that afflicted the Hatian nation last week. Although it is futile to try and attribute this kind of a disaster to some temporal component on our part, as Pat Robertson so foolishly and intolerantly did, people are still left asking, “Why?”

Throughout Scripture, God’s people are placed in many situations where intense suffering must be endured, in some cases, for prolonged, seemingly indefinite, periods. In the late sixth century B.C. the city of Jerusalem was besieged and destroyed by the Chaldeans. To the Jewish people of this time, especially heartwrenching, was the fact that the holy Temple -the most tangible symbol to the Hebrews of God’s presence on earth- was destroyed. In the Book of Lamentations, this sense of despair and profound sorrow that the Israelites of the time were experiencing has been left to us to contemplate. Reading these words, we can get a sense of the raw emotion and desparity that must have filled the hearts of these individuals so long ago, “Remember my affliction and my bitterness, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down with me…panic and pitfall have come upon us, devastation and destruction; my eyes flow with rivers of tears because of the destruction of my people. My eyes will flow without ceasing, without respite, until the Lord from heaven looks down and sees…” (Lamentations 3:19-20, 47-50). No doubt, the Haitian people are now experiencing the full scope of all of these same emotions, axieties, and feelings portrayed in Sacred Scripture. What answers, if any, can we offer to our bereaved, and already impoverished, brothers and sisters in Haiti? How can the Haitians believe that God is still listening? That there even is a God in the midst of such indiscriminate devastation, death, and suffering?

The late Pope John Paul II attempts to address this point in one of his Palm Sunday homilies, and draws on the Church’s long held tradition of the inherent value and spiritual purpose of suffering. The Pope says that as Jesus did, only through enduring and accepting certain situations of suffering can we hope to leave these unfortunate circumstances behind, and move on to the light of God’s victory. To many, this of course is easier said than done, espeically to our distraught Hatian brethren who have had to endure impossible challenges and tribulations -that quite frankly- are hard to comprehend. What consolation is it to them to simply exhort them to drink their cup of suffering and bear it?

The turning point is the very fact that although during these times of trial and tribulation, although it may seem so, God is not absent, but in fact is present all the more. By means of the theological virtue of hope, God always remains before us; for as Scripture tells us, Christ is our Hope, for it was He alone that conquered sin and the grave and rose triumphantly for the sake of our salvation!

Although He did ultimately prevail in the end, Jesus identifiied Himself collectively -in an extremely intimate way – with all mankind, as He suffered in anguish upon the wood of the Cross. He prayed the words of Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have You abandoned me? Why so far from my call for help, from my cries of anguish?”  Jesus had not lost hope, but as God-incarnate, He assimilated all the experiences of his humanity and conformed them to His divinity. As one like us, He cried out in anguish as our representative before God, yet through His sorrowful Passion, as the Word incarnate He perfects suffering, and forever more exalts this virtue to the point of emulation. Identifying and uniting Himself to this most penetrating and personal human emotion and feeling, through pain and torment, Christ experienced to the very core of what it was to be a human being, subject to the ravages and sometimes terrible temporal realties of this world we call home. Yet, even though He did endure unspeakable suffering the story of Jesus of Nazareth did not end there; He triumphed, crushing forever the forces of sin and death, and rose victoriously from the grave, opening the gates of eternal life to all!

Thus, through the example of Christ we can receive consolation, for God Himself experienced suffering for our sake. God-made manifest in Jesus Christ, can genuinely and realistically understand our sufferings because He has been there and trumphed. Even in the midst of His sufferings Christ could not lose hope, because despite the horror of what He was then enduring He know that in the end, Hope would win and that Love would prevail. It seems that the ancient Hebrews, even in the aftermath of humiliation and occupation, clung to this sentiment as well, “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness! ‘The Lord is my portion’ says my soul, therefore I will hope in Him!” (Lamentations 3:21-24).

In the same way, so it seems that the Haitian people have found solace in this consolation as well. Even amidst the reality of a destroyed cathedral, an archbishop who was numbered among those claimed by the quake, and the fate of countless relatives and friends unknown as well as having to come to grips with the reality of those who have perished, the people of Port-au-prince continued to gather for the celebration of Sunday Mass last weekend. Certainly, as has been expressed by witnesses, they have remained firmly rooted in the Lord’s mercy and compassion. Understandably though, it probably is still quite hard for them to even conceive of when they will fully recover from this horrible reality. Even though it may be a small consolation to them now, it always proves productive to contemplate a crucifix, and see that it requires strength, fortitude, and hope to make it through occasions of darkness and pain to the glorious dawn of Easter.

However, with our material assistance as well as our prayers and emotional support on their behalf, they will certainly come to the light of a new era full of life, potential, and promise. Now, it is our responsibility, as their fellow members of Christ’s Mystical Body to make His promise in the Beatitudes a reality. We must actively and substantially, as best we can, fully embrace and realize those parts of that Body that we were destined to be at this moment in time and offer unwavering support, encouragement, and concrete expressions of solidarity to our Haitian brothers and sisters; so that all those who suffer, all those who mourn, will be comforted, and will know that they are indeed blessed.

Image from: http://www.osb.org/gen/medal.html

I’ve been visiting a Benedictine monastery close to my apartment in Chicago lately. It’s for a class project, but I’ve been surprised to notice how much a part of my life Benedictines have been. I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m interested in the the ins and outs of daily live in a Benedictine community…I’ve bounced around on their edges for years.

I grew up in Watertown, South Dakota–home of the Benedictine Mother of God Monastery, located on the appropriately named Harmony Hill. My mom used to take classes out there and my grandparents lived at the assisted living center the sisters owned. I knew several of the sisters from my summers at Vocation Camp. Without explicit consideration of Benedictines, I chose to attend the College of St. Benedict and moved on the fringes of that community, occasionally attending the evening Liturgy of the Hours and supper with my “Benedictine friend.”

These Benedictines inspire me. I met women who teach and write and garden and minister; they set a model just by living their lives. I remember asking one of them if they were worried about the decline in numbers of sisters joining. She shocked me by explaining that Benedictine communities have been around for hundreds of years, in lots of different forms and shapes. She explained that they are open to the ways the Spirit reshapes the community and there is very little sense in worrying too much about it.

To find myself moving, again, on the edges of a Benedictine community feels oddly familiar. Their signals of hospitality, their prayers, their care; these are things I have come to appreciate.

Kate Dugan is a PhD student at Northwestern University and co-editor of From the Pews in the Back: Young Women & Catholicism.

When did this begin?  When did I become a Catholic?

I started reading a book on major themes in literary theory this evening, and (naturally) the first chapter detailed the topic of “beginning” in literary criticism. The opening lines of Dante’s The Divine Comedy were among the examples treated in the chapter. These lines read: “Midway in the journey of our life I find myself in a dark wood, for the straight way was lost.”  The book’s commentary describes this beginning as a “middling”–a beginning in the middle of life, in the middle of a dark wood–suggesting that Dante’s opening communicates that, “there are no absolute beginnings–only strange original middles.  No journey, no life ever really begins: all have in some sense already begun before they begin” (3).

I thought of my faith when I read these lines. I think the beginning of my faith was a middling.

Some people teach that Christian faith begins in baptism.  (This idea of beginning seems particularly fitting for consideration, as it is the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord today!)  They might say that when I was baptized a Catholic by my parents as an infant, something about my existence changed in that moment.  I became a Christian.  Or, they might say that in baptism my parents established the context that would determine my faith in the the future.  Baptism was the beginning of what would unfold in me later in life.

Others cite a one-time proclamation of Christian faith as the definitive beginning.  When one accepts Christ as his/her Lord and Savior from sin, he/she becomes a Christian. Many people tells stories of this moment when they knew something in them changed.  They became Christians.

But I think my faith began with a middling more like the one described in this textbook of mine: “There are no absolute beginnings–only strange original middles.  No journey, no life ever really begins: all have in some sense already begun before they begin.”  I cannot tell the story of how my Catholic faith began, so much as I can look back at the story of my faith and realize that it began before the moment that I recognized it.  When I try to pin down a moment, I always identity some precursor–some prior person or event or moment or memory full of grace and faith and god–one that complicates any notion I have of “beginning.”  Every “beginning” I consider becomes more like a “middling.”

I cannot tell of my faith’s beginning, only that it began.  And the story continues.

Jessica Coblentz is a student at Harvard Divinity School. This entry is cross-posted on her personal blog, www.jessicacoblentz.com, where you can also find more of her musings.

This past weekend I had the enjoyable opportunity to be able to just hang out and spend some time with one of my best friends. During the course of the evening she invited over a guy who she had just recently met. Just for the sake of context, it should be noted that he was a straight guy.

Flash back almost two and a half years from today. I had just come out, and I still attended a deeply conservative high school that was maintained by and affiliated with the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod (keep in mind, I want to make it clear that in no way do I want to give the impression that I’m bashing my former middle and high school, although I may disagree intensely with many of their social and theological interpretations of the human experience I received a wonderful, solid, comprehensive, and thoroughly enriching Christian education there which I shall cherish for the rest of my life, as well as meeting most of the people who I would probably consider to be some of my best friends). Consequently, the majority of my peers who attended the school were consistently conservative in their political as well as their social beliefs.

Even before I formally came out, and although most of my inner circle of friends knew already, I made it a point to wait until after graduation to do it officially. I was on several memorable occasions mocked and teased because of my notable, slightly flamboyant personality; which I never really made any attempts to hide because it’s just a futile effort, why hide who you are? Basically, the premise behind all of these jabs at me was that I must be and obviously was gay because I didn’t act or conduct myself in the stereotypical way that the rest of my male classmates happened to. Essentially, it seemed that these guys, as is the case with a significant portion of heterosexual men, feel very threatened by the inherent notion and subsequent implications of homosexuality; namely, that being attracted to other men or in any way having the same mannerisms or characteristics of women, when it comes to being attracted to persons of the same-sex, severely weakens and subliminally destroys what it means to be a real man.

Because of this somewhat grim, hostile, and intimidating reality, for quite a long period of time, even though I had affirmed and embraced my own sexuality, I was always a little wary and fearful of how other straight guys would react to it. Naturally, because in my high school there weren’t really any openly gay members of the student body, anyone who dared to be so blatant about their sexual orientation would no doubt be confronted with instant condemnation, ridicule, and exclusion. So, for a very long time I was always uncertain about opening up to straight guys who I happened to meet or encounter when it came to expounding upon and explaining this facet of my personal life.

However, once I graduated high school in 2008 I became aware of a remarkably different and more tolerant attitude when it came to individuals my own age. This was certainly one of the most encouraging and meaningful wafts of fresh air that I have been exposed to in my lifetime. Once, outside of my high school; which had served as the cocoon in which I carried out my existence for such a significant portion of my childhood, I gradually became aware of an alternative prevalent attitude of tolerance, acceptance, and respect when it came to people of my own age addressing and contemplating issues regarding human sexuality. I was astounded by this reality and intensely strengthened in my own personal integrity and confidence by it. After awhile, I really stopped worrying about it.

My friend, and her male friend who I made reference to in the beginning of my thoughts, once again, served to confirm that if they really are secure and comfortable with their own sexualities, lots of heterosexual men my age don’t really feel threatened or disgusted by other men who happen to be attracted to other guys. When this really nice guy responded to me with such respect, tolerance, and dignity I was once again confirmed in the hope that my current generation will lead the fray courageously into this era’s defining civil rights struggle; namely, the recognition and respect of those who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender in sexual orientation and the protection and guarantee of their equal civil rights under the law.

Although it may seem irrelevant, last year’s season of American Idol provides an optimistic example of how my generation will hopefully be leading the call to action in recognizing and defending the rights and inherent dignity of all persons who live in this nation, regardless of sexual identity or manner of expression.  

Kris Allen and Adam Lambert are probably one of the most memorable and intense top two finalists from the beloved television program. Kris was the adorable, proud Christian, soulful crooner who naturally captivated the hearts of a large contingent of our nations viewers. Adam on the other hand, was the flamboyant, provocative, rocker personality who confidently sported “guy liner” in almost all of his performances. He too had a signifigant following and presented a unique alternative to Kris’s obvious cookie cutter, good ol’ boy persona. Despite these striking, almost  irreconcilable differences between the two contestants, especially when it came to their style of performance and lived background, the guys developed a strong and enduring friendship, almost a brotherly affection (“bromance” is probably the most appropriate applicable description of their relationship) for one another aside from the fact of the stark contrasts of their system of values and realms of existence. Even after the competition was over and despite its outcome (which was personally, a very discouraging blow to me, even though Kris is so incredibly attractive I did not think that he was more qualified in persona or musical ability to deserve to be the winner of the competition, especially so close to the aftermath of Proposition 8 this was obvious proof that America is prepared to tolerate LGBT individuals but unfortunately is not quite yet ready to accept, embrace, and acknowledge them with complete dignity and enthusiasm) the two remain the best of friends. This was most inspiring to me considering Kris’s Bible Belt origins and his staunchly Christian beliefs. Still, he continues to embrace Adam as a genuine, valued friend with respect and esteem. Most notably, not once has he ever even raised Adam’s sexuality as being an issue of defining importance in their friendship. It seems that as a heterosexual male, Kris sees that we human beings are not essentially defined by who we are attracted to sexually, but rather by the “integrity and strength of our character” as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would have put it.

Sadly, this trend of tolerance, reasoned consideration, and acceptance has not been nearly as prevalent within the Catholic Church. The late, Ven. John Paul II, who as universal Pastor of the Church led the People of God for nearly three decades, had a profound impact on this unfortunate reality. His extremely heroic and unique example of personal holiness was indeed an inspiration for the entire universal Church and the whole world for that matter. For this alone he will probably be remembered by most, deservedly, as a passionate Pastor of the Church who exhorted all individuals to open their hearts and minds to the gracious and all-consoloing love of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

However, the late John Paul II continued to cling to archaic and unfounded conceptions and interpretations of human sexuality, which instead of emphasizing the apparent goodness and benevolence of the Creator, almost put limits, in a sense, on God’s creative genius. His much acclaimed Theology of the Body simply dressed up, reaffirmed, and made more personable and receptive traditional and rigid definitions which had characterized questions of human sexuality within Christendom for centuries. Despite scientific and psychological evidence to the contrary, Pope John Paul continued to insist that a homosexual orientation was a “disordered condition” which if acted upon, would put the participant in these activities in the condition of mortal sin. He continued to defend the official Magisterium’s opposition to the ordination of women in any faculty, claiming that women are insufficient instruments, incapable of representing Christ in a genuine manner during the celebration of the Eucharist, simply because of the gender they had been given by God. His successor, Pope Benedict, has continued to preserve these banal interpretations.

As a consequence of these very similar pontificates, episcopal appointments by the Pope are usually not made on the basis of competence and personal integrity and responsibility, but rather on the extent of adhering firmly to all of these highly contentious issues, which the Vatican has declared closed for discussion. Thus, in distinct comparison to the secular social realities of our world, the leadership of the Church has become increasingly more polarized and regressive-thinking. Because John Paul II is seen as such a hero of the youth, which is particularly understandable and not noted without cause, all of his convictions (especially on issues that have been declared “closed” for discussion) which he espoused are embraced as being beneficial and integral to the growth and vitality of the Church throughout the world.

Pope John Paul’s and Pope Benedict’s understandings of these issues are largely based on the time in which they came, during which they could not even consider thinking about, much less discussing, the ramifications that all of these questions would have theologically and philosophically upon the Church and the world at large. Yet, it is indeed regrettable to think that where in the civic sphere, my generation is a profound proponent of tolerance, acceptance, and equality for all individuals regardless of sexual orientation, that the same trend could and probably is reversed due to Pope John Paul’s views on sexuality, which have been implied as being “infallible.”

Therefore, I can confidently say that if the question of marriage equality and establishment and expansion of  the full array of civil rights that all citizens of this country, regardless of sexual orientation (which would include the repeal of the Defense of Marriage Act and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell)  deserve and should be able to enjoy, was put before a Congress for a vote in which all elected members were under the age of 50, discrimination nationwide would probably, finally be definitively eliminated. The effort surprisingly could even include a large majority of individuals who identified as political “conservatives.” I’ve noticed that even among individuals my own age who define themselves as either members of the Republican Party or Libertarian that they do not consider sexual and social issues to be the defining values of conservatism, but instead the promotion and defense of fiscal and personal responsibility.

Unfortunately, the exact phenomenon would probably occur within the Church if this question was allowed to be seriously considered and questioned among the leadership of the Church.

However, I still think that there is reason to maintain hope for the future. Christ is our Hope and shall always remain with and protect His Church. Just as Kris Allen and my bff’s new friend illustrated, a new principle is being exercised and formed by our generation when confronting these very special and controversal questions of human sexuality. When meeting anyone the First Letter of St. John, which we have been hearing significant portions of during the Christmas season, reminds all Christians that, “Whoever does not love abides in death. All who hate a brother or sister are murderers, and you know that murderers do not have eternal life abiding in them… Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action” (1 John 3: 14-15, 18).

If all the leaders of the Church, young and old alike, would meditate upon and embody these sentiments perhaps a new Pentecost, inaugurated and driven by the Holy Spirit, might be able to be experienced by the People of God. I still remain firm in the hope that eventually the Church as well as our world will gradually open itself to the entire myriad of possibilities that are privileges and hallmarks of the diversity and beauty with which the Lord has endowed all of His creatures with. Hope is an inextinguishable virtue. In the same manner but in a much more profound and beautiful way Love can never be extinguished, and in the end, as it has been in the beginning and shall be so forever, Love shall always prevail and never be defeated!

Although months have passed since my last post, I’m still here!  I’ve been sucked into the life of a graduate student–a Master of Divinity student to be exact.  After spending a semester studying the intersection of faith and culture, the Pentateuch, and church history, it would seem as though I have tons of writing material for this blog.  I’ve had plenty of time for discussions and reflections on the material, yet somehow it doesn’t work out quite that easily, so I’m just going to leave you with a series of questions/statements that sum up my semester.

What does it mean to be a highly trained lay person within the Church?

In Judges, a woman kills a man by pounding a tent peg into his temple.  Someone else is left unattended while dying because his servants think he is “relieving himself.”  My professor told me that I finally “got” the Old Testament when I came into class laughing about how funny I found these stories.

Could an inter-sexed person be a priest?

If you actually take time to study, think about, pray with, and reflect on the Nicene Creed, it really is quite incredible.  Too bad we just won’t make it gender-inclusive.

What does evangelization mean in today’s world?  Does evangelization presume superiority not just over another religion, but over another culture?

The Episcopal Church seems really enticing on a regular basis, but the thought of leaving the Catholic Church feels like abandoning a big, wacky, loving, messed-up extended family.

Kristy is an MDiv student at the Jesuit School of Theology in Berkeley, CA.  She volunteered for a year and a half at the Casa Ursulina in Chillan, Chile after graduating from John Carroll University in 2007.