Nori

Queer Catholicism

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 06:17:33 GMT

As you know, I consider myself a Catholic. A queer, socially liberal Catholic with some very definite ideas on social justice, but a Catholic nonetheless. The past few years, it’s been increasingly hard to consider myself as such, starting with the election of Pope Benedict. That man is hateful and intolerant, and not the leader we needed to continue making positive social change after so many years of progress under John Paul II. Not to mention that the Catholic Church is no longer a white, European institution. The majority of Catholics in this day and age live in Latin America and Africa, and I think it's about time that the Church’s hierarchy reflects that.

One of the things that has helped me with my faith struggle is the Catholic Church’s constant commitment to acts of service and social service programs, like Catholic Charities. They provide needed services to marginalized groups, and do so admirably, and without discrimination based on the receiver’s faith tradition (or lack thereof). I’m especially impressed with the US Conference of Catholic Bishops’ work on immigration. As long as the North American Catholic Church balances its conservative dogma with selfless acts of service, I can call myself a Catholic and still sleep soundly at night. It’s not the best of solutions, but I was okay with it.

Until Thursday. Thursday, this headline appeared in the Washington Post: “The Catholic Archdiocese of Washington said Wednesday that it will be unable to continue the social service programs it runs for the District if the city doesn't change a proposed same-sex marriage law, a threat that could affect tens of thousands of people the church helps with adoption, homelessness and health care.” That’s right, the Archdiocese of DC is threatening to cancel its contracts with the city if DC continues to support the domestic partnership law. Nearly 70,000 people in DC are served by Catholic Charities programs, including 1/3 of the total homeless population. And the Archdiocese thinks it’s okay to threaten the removal of these services because of its opposition to gay marriage.

Not even gay marriage! Reading more, it seems like the Archdiocese is worried it would have to provide healthcare to the partners of their queer employees and help sponsor adoptions to same-sex couples. Oh, the horror! That’s discrimination, pure and simple. What would Jesus do? I’m pretty sure the answer isn’t denying help to those who need it merely to uphold a discriminatory stance on a social justice issue. This sparked a pretty major faith crisis for me. The one aspect of Catholicism I’d never had any problems with was suddenly being used to threaten the equality we’ve been fighting for, especially after the devastating loss of Proposition 8 last year (based in part on a successful ad campaign supported by Church money), and Maine’s Question One this year.

Being Catholic is such a huge part of who I am. For an adopted child without any links to her heritage, being able to belong to something made a huge difference for me. It is one of the solid foundations of my identity and sense of self. So much of my personality (like my dedication to social justice) comes from being raised in the Church. It’s been shaken before, in fact that’s one of the reasons I struggled for so long with coming out. I knew pretty early on in highschool that I was queer, but struggled against it, and definitely didn’t tell anyone about it because I was afraid of what my community would think of me. I’m still not out to most people back home, because I still do fear that rejection, but I’m slowly gathering up the courage to do so.

When I think about the Archdiocese’s decision to take this discriminatory stance, I feel an actual physical pain. A very fundamental part of myself has been utterly shaken. This causes me to question so much about myself and about the world around me. Can I still consider myself Catholic? Can I still claim to believe in a religion that has stated in no uncertain terms that I am unwelcome and unloved by God? There’s no easy answer.

But the answer, not surprisingly for those who know me, comes from El Salvador. The last time I had a major faith crisis, I found renewal in working with the Christian
Base Communities in Bajo Lempa. Working with people who had so little and gave so much revitalized my faith in the transformative power of belief, and also in the strength of the human spirit. The radical Catholicism present there was something I could really and truly believe in.

In the wake of the horrible flooding caused by Hurricane Ida last week, I received this email from one of the religious sisters that works in Tierra Blanca. Sister Elena writes: “Since we were spared we know that it was for a reason. This gives us a chance to say Thank You Lord for all that you have given us via other people in the past. We in turn now will follow their example and do likewise. In our different base communities we made a heartfelt call for food and clothing. The following day we canvassed the communities and many families had their extras gathered and ready to be picked up. This was so heart warming and we sensed that people felt it a privilege to give of the little that they have.” These people, some of whom make under $1 a day, are moved by their faith to do wonderful things.

Today is also the 20th anniversary of the Martyrs of UCA. On November 16th, 1989, after nearly 10 years of a brutal civil war in El Salvador, a government sponsored death squad entered the University of Central America’s grounds and killed six Jesuits, along with their housekeeper and her teenage daughter. These six Jesuits were killed because they dared to speak out against the oppressive government regime that had been killing and terrorizing the Salvadoran people for decades. They were murdered because they shared their vision for a better and more just Salvadoran society, and in doing so gave hope to the people.

Ignacio Ellacuría. Segundo Montes. Elba Ramos. Celina Ramos. Amando López. Juan Ramón Moreno. Joaquín López y López. Ignacio Martín Baró. Oscar Romero. Dorothy Kazel. Maura Clarke. Jean Donovan. Ita Ford. Silvia Arriola. 14 people who died twenty years ago in a country the size of Massachusetts. 14 reasons why I still believe in the Catholic Church today. I’m not going to stop fighting, not now. Because I believe what Archbishop Romero said: “Defense of human rights, equality, and freedom is a matter of policy, rooted in the gospel.” And as long as I believe that, I’ve still got a reason to be Catholic.

Father Roy Bourgeois

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 22:31:16 GMT

Father Roy Bourgeois, a Maryknoll father and founder of the SOA Watch has been threatened with excommunication regarding his beliefs on female ordination in the Catholic Church. Full text of the article can be found on the National Catholic Reporter's website here.

The letter he has written in response to his pending excommunication is one of the more beautiful things I have read recently. The text is below.

TO THE CONGREGATION FOR THE DOCTRINE OF THE FAITH, THE VATICAN

I was very saddened by your letter dated October 21, 2008, giving me 30 days to recant my belief and public statements that support the ordination of women in our Church, or I will be excommunicated.

I have been a Catholic priest for 36 years and have a deep love for my Church and ministry.

When I was a young man in the military, I felt God was calling me to the priesthood. I entered Maryknoll and was ordained in 1972.

Over the years I have met a number of women in our Church who, like me, feel called by God to the priesthood. You, our Church leaders at the Vatican, tell us that women cannot be ordained.

With all due respect, I believe our Catholic Church’s teaching on this issue is wrong and does not stand up to scrutiny. A 1976 report by the Pontifical Biblical Commission supports the research of Scripture scholars, canon lawyers and many faithful Catholics who have studied and pondered the Scriptures and have concluded that there is no justification in the Bible for excluding women from the priesthood.

As people of faith, we profess that the invitation to the ministry of priesthood comes from God. We profess that God is the Source of life and created men and women of equal stature and dignity. The current Catholic Church doctrine on the ordination of women implies our loving and all-powerful God, Creator of heaven and earth, somehow cannot empower a woman to be a priest.

Women in our Church are telling us that God is calling them to the priesthood. Who are we, as men, to say to women, “Our call is valid, but yours is not.” Who are we to tamper with God’s call?

Sexism, like racism, is a sin. And no matter how hard or how long we may try to justify discrimination, in the end, it is always immoral.

Hundreds of Catholic churches in the U.S. are closing because of a shortage of priests. Yet there are hundreds of committed and prophetic women telling us that God is calling them to serve our Church as priests.

If we are to have a vibrant, healthy Church rooted in the teachings of our Savior, we need the faith, wisdom, experience, compassion and courage of women in the priesthood.

Conscience is very sacred. Conscience gives us a sense of right and wrong and urges us to do the right thing. Conscience is what compelled Franz Jagerstatter, a humble Austrian farmer, husband and father of four young children, to refuse to join Hitler’s army, which led to his execution. Conscience is what compelled Rosa Parks to say she could no longer sit in the back of the bus. Conscience is what compels women in our Church to say they cannot be silent and deny their call from God to the priesthood. Conscience is what compelled my dear mother and father, now 95, to always strive to do the right things as faithful Catholics raising four children. And after much prayer, reflection and discernment, it is my conscience that compels me to do the right thing. I cannot recant my belief and public statements that support the ordination of women in our Church.

Working and struggling for peace and justice are an integral part of our faith. For this reason, I speak out against the war in Iraq. And for the last eighteen years, I have been speaking out against the atrocities and suffering caused by the School of the Americas (SOA). Eight years ago, while in Rome for a conference on peace and justice, I was invited to speak about the SOA on Vatican Radio. During the interview, I stated that I could not address the injustice of the SOA and remain silent about injustice in my Church. I ended the interview by saying, “There will never be justice in the Catholic Church until women can be ordained.” I remain committed to this belief today.

Having an all male clergy implies that men are worthy to be Catholic priests, but women are not.

According to USA TODAY (Feb. 28, 2008) in the United States alone, nearly 5,000 Catholic priests have sexually abused more than 12,000 children. Many bishops, aware of the abuse, remained silent. These priests and bishops were not excommunicated. Yet the women in our Church who are called by God and are ordained to serve God’s people, and the priests and bishops who support them, are excommunicated.

Silence is the voice of complicity. Therefore, I call on all Catholics, fellow priests, bishops, Pope Benedict XVI and all Church leaders at the Vatican, to speak loudly on this grave injustice of excluding women from the priesthood.

Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador was assassinated because of his defense of the oppressed. He said, “Let those who have a voice, speak out for the voiceless.”

Our loving God has given us a voice. Let us speak clearly and boldly and walk in solidarity as Jesus would, with the women in our Church who are being called by God to the priesthood.

In Peace and Justice,
Rev. Roy Bourgeois, M.M.

006: OMG

Tue, 09 Sep 2008 08:26:53 GMT

Oh My God
No, my God is not your God- my God is not white bearded Michelangelo watching you from the roof of the chapel like a divine lol!cat. “I C What U Did Thar” he judges and no one, not anyone can touch him. He is the fancy of Your Holiness, Your Eminence, Your Majesty- admission price 14 euro.

No, my God is not your God- my God is not of the upper middle class, white, heterosexual, married or possibly divorced with 2.5 children, who slinks into church on Christmas and/or Easter, family in tow, shamed into attendance by what society expects and a vague lingering fear of hell.

No, my God is not your God- my God is not the poisonous man on the television with the silver tongue reaching out to you in your grief, wrapping his arms around you and into your pocketbook, convincing you that Jesus Christ (Hallelujah!) wants you to give, give, give for that multi-million dollar house.

No, my God is not your God- my God is not the God who hunches over Leviticus like Scrooge with his ledgers, tallying the number of times a woman wears polyester, eats pork or a man falls in love with another man, cheerfully ignoring “Love Thy Neighbor” with heartfelt condemnation

Oh My God
My God is the God of the obrero, working side by side with those of His flock who have the least but give the most, reflected in the faces of all of His faithful who gather to hear His word, whether there is a church or not, while the guns rage and the posters proclaim “Be a patriot- kill a priest.”

My God is the God of the activist, out on the picket line, the protest be it silent women all in black with their sorrowful presence for peace, bring our children home, or the lone student street medic aiding behind the lines who is insulted, pepper-sprayed or arrested for her trouble.

My God is the God of the joyful, no cold dead metal hanging on the crucifix, a morbid memory but a risen Lord leaping out into His Creation with his arms open, not in surrender but in anticipation, for we are a world full of opportunities gleaming like gold with which to bring about His Kingdom.

My God is the God of love, and of lovers, and of all its many varied forms- we are created in his own image, black, white, straight, gay, Catholic, pagan, mirrors for His true presence in this world, for as a wise man once sang- “To love someone is to see the face of God.”

EDIT: The spoken word version can be found here.

Shake the Dust

Tue, 09 Sep 2008 07:03:31 GMT

Luke 9: 3-5
He said to the apostles, "When you travel, don't take a walking stick. Also, don't carry a bag, food, or money. Take for your trip only the clothes you are wearing. When you go into a house, stay there until it is time to leave. If the people in the town will not welcome you, go outside the town and shake their dust off of your feet. This will be a warning to them."

No real reflection today, Anis Mojgani says it better than I ever could:

The poem is much more powerful when heard spoken aloud but the text is here.

This is for the fat girls, this one's for the little brothers, this is for the schoolyard wimps and for the childhood bullies that tormented them. For the former prom queen and for the milk crate ball players, the night time cereal eaters, and for the retired elderly Walmart store front door greeters, shake the dust.

This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them, for the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns, for the men who have to hold down 3 jobs simply to hold up their children, for the night time schoolers, for the midnight bike riders trying to fly... shake the dust.

This is for the two year olds who cannot be understood because they speak half english, and half God, shake the dust, for the boys with the beautiful sisters, shake the dust, for the girls with the brothers who are going crazy for those gym class wall flowers, the 12 year olds afraid of taking public showers, for the kid who is always late to class because he forgets the combination to his locker, for the girl who loves somebody else, shake the dust.

This is for the hard men who want love but know that it won't come, the ones who are forgotten, the ones the amendments do not stand up for, for the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to, and then are never spoken to, speak every time you stand so you don't forget yourself, do not let a moment go by that is a reminder that your heart beats 900 times a day, that there are enough gallons of blood to make you an ocean, do not settle for letting these waves settle, and for the dust to collect in your veins.

This is for the celibate pedophile who keeps on struggling, for the poetry teachers, and for the people who go on vacations alone. For the sweat that drips off of Mcjagger's singing lips, and for the shaking skirt on Tina Turner's shaking hips, for the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived, this is for the tired and for the dreamers, for the families that will never be like the Cleavers, with perfectly made dinners, and sons like Wally and the Beaver, this is for the bigots, the sexists, and for the killers, and for the big house pin sentenced cats becoming redeemers, remember the spring time always seems to show up right after the winter.

This is for every one of you, make sure that by the time the fisherman returns, you're gone, because just like the days, I burn at both ends, every time I write, every time I open my eyes, I'm cutting out parts of myself to give to you, so shake the dust and take me with you when you do, none of this has ever been for me, all the pushes and pulls pushes for you, so grab this wool by it's clothes pins, shake it out again and again, jump on top and take it for a spin, and when you hop off, shake it again

for this is yours, make my words worth it, make this not just another poem that I write, not just another poem like just another night that sits heavy above all of us, walk into it, breathe it in let it crash through the halls of your arms like the millions of years of millions of poets, coursing like blood, pumping and pushing, making you live, shaking the dust, so when the world knocks at your front door, clench the knob tightly and open on up, running forward into it's widespread greeting arms with your hands before you...

finger tips trembling though they may be.

004- not a real entry

Thu, 04 Sep 2008 07:13:08 GMT

Just a quote from a show that I found incredibly meaningful.

Book:River, you don't fix the Bible.
River: It's broken. It doesn't make sense.
Book: It's not about making sense. It's about believing in something, and letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It's about faith. You don't fix faith, River. It fixes you.

003- Concerning Hobbits

Sat, 30 Aug 2008 03:14:26 GMT

Religion and Tolkien. They go hand in hand. I'm not sure if J.R.R. Tolkien was Catholic (I think he was, but I'm not making any assumptions) but his universe is very much a Christian one. Not as obvious his friend C.S. Lewis, but I would say at sometimes even more so.

There's a lot to be discussed in Tolkien's writings about God, the concept of Christ figure, the ideas of sacrifice, immortality... the list goes on. But I want to talk about hobbits, and why they are like me.
"As for the Hobbits of the Shire [...] in the days of their peace and prosperity they were a merry folk. [...] Their faces were good-natured rather than beautiful, broad, bright-eyed, red-cheeked, with mouths apt to laughter, and to eating and drinking. And laugh they did, and eat, and drink, often and heartily, being fond of simple jests at all times... They were hospitable and delighted in parties, and in presents, which they gave away freely and eagerly accepted." - The Fellowship of the Ring, Prologue

The hobbits in Tolkien are often considered the "children" of the story, simple and naïve. And for some reason, they have always been my favorite race in the books. This affinity started in junior high, when I read the books for the first time. I loved the hobbits, they were the comedic relief, the most likeable, and ultimately the heroes. And when the movies came out, the actors that played the hobbits were cute.

Through highschool, I found myself thinking more about what it was I admired about Hobbits, as opposed to other races. Dwarves were industrious craftsmen, elves were the mystic immortals, and men were... men. But hobbits, what was their quality that I clung to? The answer came from an unexpected source.

My junior year of highschool I had a friend, and fellow LotR geek named Skyler. He was a great and interesting person who once biked 20 miles into town to show up at my house dressed as a hobbit. December of 2004, Skyler committed suicide. In the haze of loss and confusion that followed his passing, I reached out to others who knew him for comfort and support. That loss that we went through together drew me closer to people in a way I never dreamed possible. Four years later, the people that were there for me the week of his passing are the ones that are still there for me now.

That is what inspired me so much about hobbits- loyalty. The world was literally ending around them, and still Sam followed Frodo into Mordor. None of Frodo's friends had ever been out of the Shire before, but they followed him.

I feel like this applies to my journey as well. Except I'm going backwards. Living in El Salvador was as close as I'll ever get to the Shire. Both are small, agricultural tight-knit areas where simplicity and community are at the root of all things.

"They were hospitable and delighted in parties, and in presents, which they gave away freely and eagerly accepted." Never have I met people that gave so freely, even with what little they had. Looking back, it's not hard to see why I felt so in touch with God while living in Tierra Blanca.

Liberation Theology teaches us that the reign of God is present when we live in solidarity with the poor and marginalized in our world. If that is so, then Christian Base Communities like Tierra Blanca (and places like The Shire) must be as close to heaven as we can get.

002- Dance Dance Crucifixion

Thu, 28 Aug 2008 20:43:03 GMT

Today's slightly sacreligious title comes from a discussion on this song. For the link shy, it's the Dubliner's version of "Lord of the Dance" an awesome Catholic hymn set to the melody of Simple Gifts (also known as Copeland's Appalachian Spring). Yes, so I'm a bit of a music nerd.

The original Shaker lyrics are nice,

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain'd,
To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come round right.

But the Catholic version is much, much cooler (and a bit longer, but bear with me!)

I danced in the morning when the world was begun
And I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun
And I came down from Heaven and I danced on the Earth
In Bethlehem I had my birth

(Chorus)Dance, then, wherever you may be
For I am the Lord of the dance, said He
And I'll lead you all wherever you may be
And I'll lead you all in the dance, said He

I danced for the scribe and the pharisee
But they wouldn't dance and they wouldn't follow me
I danced for the fishermen, for James and John
They came with me and the dance went on

(Chorus)

I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame
The holy people said it was a shame
They whipped, and they stripped, and they hung me high
And they left me there on a cross to die

I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black
It's hard to dance with the world on your back
They buried my body and they thought I'd gone
But I am the dance, and I still go on

(Chorus)

They cut me down and I lept up high
I am the life that will never never die
I'll live in you if you'll live in me
I am the Lord of the dance, said He

(Final Chorus)

Why can't we have more songs where Jesus frolics through His life like an awesome divine Michael Flatley? I'm convinced the world would be a much better place. Instead we have songs that evoke sad or bittersweet images that, while they are lovely, rarely capture the joy I see in many of my fellow believers. This is why people my age think religion is stuffy and boring. Or there are the songs that talk about God as thunder, or wind or some shadowy, far away presence that none of us can really relate to.

For me, believing in God is all about the dance. It's about trusting God enough to take a step back and listen to the music, and allowing yourself to be caught up in the melody. It's about taking a deep breath and letting Jesus take the lead. Taking the metaphor another step- I know I'm a horrible dancer. Every time I try to dance on my own, it ends up looking awkward and more often than not, failing miserably. I think it's probably about time I stopped trying to work it out on my own and started trusting Jesus. I mean, the man's as old as music itself, I bet he's got a lot he can teach me.

I'm not a doom and gloom kind of girl, the image of God as my dance partner fits so much better with who I am than the idea of a white-bearded old man who scrutinizes my life from afar. It's probably the musician in me, but I think the best definition of who I see God as in my life is this- a conductor. I've got God up there, front and center, telling me everything I need to know. But it's easy to get distracted by trivial things, and start to make mistakes. I need to stop getting distracted and start paying attention. I think my cue's coming up.

Dance, then, wherever you may be
For I am the Lord of the dance, said He
And I'll lead you all wherever you may be
And I'll lead you all in the dance, said He.

I'm ready.