Your Gay Neighbor

 

We are on vacation--it was 46 degrees last night; unseasonably cool for the beginning of June. We rent a little (and I mean little) cottage earlier in vacation season (one of the advantages of homeschooling) so we can get the off-peak rate. This area has resisted a lot of commercialization, and it hasn't changed much honestly since I was a kid. We love it here.

The guy we have been renting from the past few years has been really nice to deal with. He's accommodating, and has offered some perks (like a free night this year) that are very much appreciated since we are on a budget. We had my wife's niece paint a picture of the cottage last year (she is a graphic designer/artist) as a gift to him in appreciation for renting to us. He was appreciative of that as well.

I also surmised he is a gay man given a few magazines (not the explicit kind, just culture stuff!) we found around the cottage, the tasteful interior design and decor...and the Human Rights Campaign sticker on the front door. Of course that's an assumption. Gayness (or our family's religious affiliation) is a non-issue in our particular tenant/renter relationship. I reserve our week, send him a check, and communicate as needed via email or text. We're grateful he's so accommodating and easy to work with.

It's a similar situation at work. A good number of the faculty members I work with are gay, and they are also very nice to work with and pleasant individuals for the most part. Of course they have particular quirks, like all people do; that's normal. But again, that aspect of their lives doesn't come up a whole lot, at least in my interactions with them. I've worked with many of them for almost a decade now; never had any issues or complaints.

One of the things I liked most in Of Gods And Men is how the film showed the way the Trappist monks lived and worked among their Muslim neighbors. Even when their lives were being threatened by Islamic extremists, the Christian monks did not turn on their Muslim neighbors or caricature them as 'the enemy.' They were their neighbors, whom they have co-existed peaceably with for years and with whom there was mutual trust and the foundations of relationships. When you have to live with someone by circumstance for years on end, it can be akin to a kind of marriage--you just have to find a way to compromise, live together, and work things out, assuming there is mutual respect between parties.

"The first part of the film is idyllic, reflecting a decade of leadership by Father Christian (Lambert Wilson). The son of a distinguished French military family, he had been raised in Algeria and had fought in the Algerian war of independence on the French side. After entering the Cistercians, he dedicated his life to establishing a strong relationship with Muslims. Before joining the monastery in Tibhirine, Christian studied with the White Fathers in Rome, an order devoted to both African conversion and Christian–Muslim reconciliation. He often invited their Muslim neighbors to share meals and discuss their religious beliefs at the monastery. A student of the Quran, which is seen prominently on his desk, he noted that devout Muslims identify with the monks because they both had ritual daily prayers. He was often critical of his co-religionists, something that probably had its roots in his familiarity with prejudiced elites in France and Algeria. In addition, his great great aunt had been a member of the order of the Society of Helpers in the 1880s. Serving the sick poor and outcasts especially blacks in New York City and St. Louis, they fought against religious prejudice in the Church at the time (Kiser 2002). By the same token, many of his colleagues thought that he was too “sensitive” and loathe to criticize Muslims or the Quran." [1]

We would be naive and woefully misguided if we thought there were no orthodox men and women in the Church today who may happen to be same-sex attracted. Being an orthodox Catholic isn't a kind of litmus test where we stop people at the door to make sure they meet the qualifications to worship in the house of God; we are all sinners saved by grace. Orthodox means right belief. And belief comes from the individual themselves. So, to the degree with which their beliefs conform to that of the Church and they are sincerely trying to align their lives with that right belief, that is orthopraxis.

Case in point--we drove 30 minutes or so down the Cape this morning to attend a High Mass for Trinity Sunday at a small, simple wooden mission chapel. I'm at the point where I would drive three times that distance to worship in the usus antiquior, and especially while traveling. We have re-routed our already long drives in the past to hit up a ICKSP for First Saturday or Corpus Christi, and it is always worth the extra effort. I say that without feeling the need to denigrate the Novus Ordo. But the reality is I have developed a kind of liturgical anxiety when it comes to the random N.O. parish, because I never know what kind of situation I am walking into. With the traditional Latin Mass, there are no real surprises, and no nonsense. For the benefit of my family, and as the spiritual head of my household, this is a sacrifice I am more than willing to make to spare my children from the potential for unforeseen liturgical scandals. 

What's cool is that even though the Traditional Latin Mass is more or less uniform, there is still diversity within it. I loved seeing African Americans, altar boys with Downs Syndrome, young families and old timers. Even though we were travelers and guests at this particular parish community, we were neighbors in spirit and liturgy.

I also noticed at this particular Mass that two men around my age came in together just before Mass and sat in the pew in front of us. They were dressed similarly--white button downs and khakis. They could have been brothers, they could have been friends or military. But it's very possible they could have been a couple as well. From outward appearance, it seemed that they were unfamiliar with the Latin Mass, though they followed along well--kneeling when the congregation knelt, standing when they stood, etc. I'm always curious (not just with these two men) what people's "stories" are. But the fact of the matter is, it was none of my business. 

When it came time for communion, I noticed neither of them went up to receive. Again, that is none of my business, and could have been for a myriad of reasons--from potentially not even being Catholic but simply "curious", to not being in a state of grace, to simply not feeling disposed by conscience to receiving. They, like all of us, were there to worship God in a fitting manner. They disappeared quietly to their car after Mass. Not knowing their story, I prayed for their intentions and journey. 

Priests like Fr. James Martin do a great disservice to the Church and fellow Christians by their obfuscation and untruth--that the Church (or church) should and will change to accommodate those Catholics in the LGBT community. He--and those who abet such "accompaniment" when it is not grounded in the truth of the Church's teaching--fail to love them enough to tell them the truth. Must like our President, about whom my priest friend notes, "It's sad that no one ever loved him (the President) enough to tell him the truth (about his sacrilegious communions, among other things)." 

And yet, when we think about our gay neighbors, how do we accompany them with the lantern of truth? Being neighbor to them (as we are neighbor to anyone) precludes being high-horse, self-righteous jerks--judging, assuming, condemning, patronizing. In this Pope Francis is correct that the Church should be a "field hospital" for sinners, where we bring those in most need of grace to the font of Love and the source of Grace itself. We don't "make ourselves good" before we approach the Lord, or else no one would be worthy to approach Him, ever. And yet, there is something to be said to having the humility to know when we are invited to the wedding but aren't wearing the appropriate garments to enter (Mt 22:11-12). The story of St. Mary of Egypt is one such example. A public sinner, the lascivious harlot once brazenly tried to enter a local church when she heard a relic of the true Cross was being venerated, and was unable to do so by a mysterious (miraculous) force, which led to her contrite metanoia and a subsequent lifetime of penance.  

It is interesting that in Luke's Gospel, the 'expert in the law' who seeks eternal life and initially answers Jesus' question about the Greatest Commandment correctly is affirmed by Jesus by his answer. Yet the Evangelist describes the man as "seeking to justify himself" when he takes it a step further, asking "Who is my neighbor?" And it is here the Lord tells the parable of the Good Samaritan. The beaten man is passed over by a priest and a Levite, but a Samaritan becomes neighbor to him by caring for him and bringing him back to health and wholeness. "Who was neighbor to him?" the Lord asks. Being neighbor is not about slogans or our personal sense of cleanness, but action.  

I try to stress the point with my kids. Even today as we were driving in the car, and my son was asking about rainbow flags, I reiterated that we are called to "hate the sin, and love the sinner." That same-sex attraction is not part-and-parcel the same as lived homosexuality. That we are called as Christians to love, but not through pat, untruthful slogans ("love is love", etc) as those ideologically opposed to us spout to justify sin, but though preaching the Gospel in truth and charity. The reality of living in a fallen world, under a corrupt government, and among a diversity of people (atheists, Jews, Muslims, pagans, etc) was no strange thing to Jesus during his time. We are to give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's (Mk 12:17), to love our enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you (Lk 6:27-28). That can take some discernment in how that looks in real time and circumstances. But neighbor we must be.

There is a point when we must turn over to Satan for the destruction of their flesh those so blinded by their corruption for the good of their souls (1 Cor 5:5). But love also does not cross over to the other side of the street. Love is without deceit (Rom 12:9). Love does not judge the heart, which cannot be seen or known by man (Jer 17:9). Love is compelled by Truth. 

Sometimes people self-segregate (Chinatown, the "gayborhood," Crown Heights, Little Italy, etc) to be neighbors among those they share an affinity or culture with, and there's nothing wrong with that. But to the degree that we find ourselves as neighbors among different people who don't share our religious values should not be a reason to move necessarily, but an opportunity to witness in love, integrity, and truth. It is hard work, as all years-long relationships are.