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F e a t u r e A r t i c l e
OUT OF THE CLOSET AND INTO CHASTITY
By DAVID C. MORRISON
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This Rock
Volume 5, Number 7/8
 July/August 1994 
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OUTSIDE of the struggles over abortion and
euthanasia, there may be no greater battle in the Church today than
the one raging over homosexuality. At a time when the Church faces
a righteous tempest about the abuse of altar boys at the hands of
priests, when gay rights groups target the Mass for sacrilegious demonstrations,
and when disobedient clergy preside at same-sex "weddings"
it is no wonder traditional Catholics approach the topic carrying
little but confusion, frustration, and anger. Most Catholics in the
pews do not accept homosexuality, do not want to understand it, and
wish, mostly, that the topic would go away--or at least back into
the closet "where it belongs." Others, a minority, in particular
associated with the gay caucus Dignity, are only too happy to have
the topic discussed--so long as that discussion leads in the direction
of the Church changing its doctrine on homosexual acts.
As both a former homosexual activist and current faithful Catholic
committed to chastity, I urge instead that all Catholics, laity and
clergy, join together to preach the fullness of the Church's teaching
on this matter. I implore this because I believe it to be a teaching
filled with dignity, truth and self-respect for all people, one which,
if preached in integrity and steadfastness, will bring many to a full
life with Jesus Christ.
In making this case I will begin by telling a bit of my own history.
I do so not to make public that which should be private, but because
so much of the public discussion on this issue is either biased or
aloof from the actual lives of homosexual people. [For the sake
of brevity and more readable prose I use the term "homosexual"
for homosexually-oriented men and women. Readers should not think,
though, that homosexually-oriented people can or should be defined
only by their sexual orientation.] I believe that offering the witness
of my journey from gay activism to chastity is necessary to help fill
what has become a vacuum in the conversation.
My pilgrimage from being a homosexual-rights activist to living life
as a chaste Catholic began in earnest when I read the writings of
a modern-day Protestant martyr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Before reading
Bonhoeffer my short Christian life had been marked primarily by my
translating sidewalk gay-rights activism into similar activism in
the Anglican pew.
Homosexual orientation and the life I had built around it were so
central to my primary identity that I could not understand how anyone
could object to what I was doing. Disapproval, doubts, objections
of all kinds could only be the result of either confusion about what
Scripture says about homosexuality or outright bigotry.
After all, I was living proof that homosexual people could live a
sexually active life which was both spiritually and temporally satisfying.
I had a lover of five years, a condominium in a major urban area,
a satisfying job, and a church life as an Episcopalian which, while
not perfect, was still a treasure. What more could I want? Yet, in
prayer and in quiet times of reflection, I could not avoid noticing
some thistles which sneaked into my "gaily"-modeled life.
As committed an activist as I was, I had to admit the shallowness
and sheer improbability of many gay-friendly theologians and scholars
when it came to Scripture and homosexual acts. Beyond the solid observation
that Scripture does not discuss homosexual orientation per se, [This
is not surprising considering that even now there is no universally
accepted definition of "sexual orientation," much less what
causes it and whether or not it may be changed.] authors as diverse
as John McNeill (formerly S.J.), Sylvia Pennington, John Boswell,
and Virginia Molen-kott went wandering into scriptural speculations
which, while creative, really asked their audience to suspend belief
about the clear meaning of the original text.
When discussing what the apostle Paul "really" meant when
he condemned homosexual acts in Romans 1:18-23 and 1 Corinthians 6:8-11,
these authors alleged that Paul must have been condemning something
other than the homosexual relationship of today since he could not
have known anyone of confessed homosexual orientation. An argument
for blessing homosexual acts was based on this reasoning, and it asked
me to conclude that, had Paul known of the participants' orientation,
he would have approved of the acts, even though nothing in his other
letters indicated this would be so.
Likewise, the condemnations against homosexual acts in Leviticus were
dismissed with the suggestion that the acts condemned there had more
to do with ritual prostitution than with "loving" homosexuality.
Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed (Gen. 19:1-25), these authors allege,
not because of homosexual offense, but because the people of the towns
were greedy, corrupt, and inhospitable to strangers.
Each of these, while claiming fidelity to traditional scriptural exegesis,
took interpretation in a radically new direction and ignored the strong
possibility that greed, corruption, and inhospitality might have gone
hand-in-hand with homosexual offense. Was it reasonable to assume
that homosexual acts had nothing to do with the cities being destroyed,
in view of the large part they played in the drama of Lot's departure?
So, there were little cracks in the theoretical foundation upon which
I had built my life. There were also problems with how I saw "gay
theology" lived out around me. Most gay Christians I knew differed
little in their lives from gay pagans, agnostics, and atheists. Gay
Christian worship services, while sometimes worshipful, were also
often as sexually charged and "cruisy" [Cruising is a
practice among sexually active gay men of seeking out partners for
sex. A "cruisy" place or event is one where a lot of "cruising"
takes place.] as most bars I visited. Early on I decided to try to
make a nearby non-gay Episcopal parish my spiritual home, and my experience
there, contrasting sharply with what I saw of gay "worship,"
forced me to admit that many of my arguments in favor of gay Christianity
were modeled more on a theoretical ideal than on practical experience.
A final source of pre-Bonhoeffer doubt came in the relationships I
formed with non-gay, theologically-orthodox Christians. Here were
people who, I had been told, should have hated the very ground I walked
upon and despised me for my sexual orientation. After all, hadn't
much of the gay flight to the cities been to get away from traditional
Christians? Yet the people I encountered loved me, even while they
strenuously disagreed with the choices I was making in my life. Agreement,
I came to realize, might be nice, but it was not a prerequisite for
friendship and real affection. The ground was ripe for the Holy Spirit
to work a revolution, and that revolution began in a dramatic way,
with Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
I remember the day clearly. It was early in the spring and raining.
My then-lover and I had spent much of the miserable day in a shopping
mall and had split up to pursue our own bargains, his in clothes and
mine in books. I was in a discount bookstore, poring over a disorganized
pile of titles, when I saw it, The Cost of Discipleship by
Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I opened it, and I can still remember its first
sentence as though I were reading it right now: "Cheap grace
is the deadly enemy of our Church. We are fighting today for costly
grace." [Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship
(New York: Macmillan, 1963), 45.]
I was hooked. It was as though those lines had been written just for
me at just that time. Scooping together the loose change in my pockets,
I bought the book, brought it home, and devoured it. Here, from this
man martyred on Adolf Hitler's order, I heard a message which both
commanded and terrified me. Would I, could I, give my life for Christ?
Where had I compromised? Did being a Christian really mean going along
with what my world was telling me, or did being a Christian mean being
different, being wholly Christ's?
Swiftly I began reading everything about Bonhoeffer that I could get
my hands on. With Bonhoeffer came other committed Christian authors,
some of them Catholic. Augustine's Confessions convicted me
of my own spiritual timidity and encouraged me that God never gives
up on us. Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle awed me with the
depth of communion possible in prayer, and Mother Teresa's life and
writing showed me the potential fruit of such a prayerful life.
These took residence on my shelf next to books by Richard Foster,
who writes powerfully from the Quaker tradition. His Celebration
of Discipline and The Challenge of the Disciplined Life
made me want to re-examine the role Christianity played in my all-too-modern
life, specifically in the area of my identity and sexuality.
Gradually I began to understand that my sexuality was not something
I owned, but something God owned in me, and that the clear witness
of Scripture was to a dual purpose for sexuality. Sex, in God's intention,
is meant to do two things: provide for the procreation of children
and build up husbands and wives in the love, respect, and life of
each other. How did this square with the kind of sex with which I
was most familiar, particularly in light of its inevitably transient
nature? After all, homosexual sex is completely and unalterably divorced
from the responsibility of procreation. Is this really how God intended
we should use our sexuality?
After many months of indecision, I could remain dishonest no longer.
The life I had been living for so long was a life of cheap grace and
I knew it. In the light of Scripture, Tradition, and reflection I
could only conclude that God demanded of me the same thing he demands
of all unmarried Christians: a chaste life. So it was that I stepped
out in faith from almost everything I had thought most important and
dear to me. If Christ wanted chastity, I would be chaste. Everything
else and everyone else I placed in his hands.
From there my journey to the Catholic faith was swift, drawn along
as I was by the three realities which make the Catholic Church so
attractive to homosexuals who seek to live in sexual purity and fidelity.
First, the Catholic Church is the only Christian institution that
not only preaches the truth of chastity for homosexual people but
offers practical, tangible help for achieving it.
Second, the Catholic Church is the only major Christian institution
to recognize that we really do not know what causes homosexuality.
The Church will not demand heterosexual conversion as a condition
of fellowship, nor will it decide, in advance, that homosexual people
are not capable of being responsible for their own decisions and actions.
This position contains, as its corollary, the dramatically counter-cultural
notion that homosexual people have as much human dignity as anyone
else and deserve not to be patronized--something which my more
liberally- minded Episcopal Church did (and does still) with depressing
regularity.
Finally, the Catholic Church possesses the truth, not simply in this
dogma but in all its dogmas. Seeking assistance to live a chaste life
may have been the road I traveled to Rome, but once it was in my view
I could see so much more. The Catholic Church, I came to understand,
was meant in itself to be a means of grace in my desire to lead a
life closer to God. In its sacraments, particularly reconciliation
and the Eucharist, it offered an enormously important avenue for drawing
nearer to Jesus, and it would offer those to me no matter my sexual
orientation.
Yes, I had doubts. No one in my family had ever been Catholic. Many
of them were and remain anti-Catholic. Yet the truth which had drawn
me this far would not let me tarry longer than absolutely necessary,
and I entered the Catholic Church at Easter 1993.
How has it been? Rough but wonderful. Nothing could have prepared
me for the strength I would draw from a Catholic relationship with
Christ and no one could have prepared me for how difficult it would
be to lose friends and strain family relationships because of this
choice. Anyone who thinks there is a gap between Catholicism and evangelism
either is not a Catholic or is not living a Catholic life in a open
way. Simply to confess a belief in a Catholic view of Christ is to
take a counter-cultural position which demands apologetics and explanation.
Faithful Catholics who are homosexual do it every day and find in
both the exterior witness and interior dialogue a remarkable path
to deeper faith.
Occasionally I am asked what I expect of the future, and I sometimes
run out of time trying to answer. The truth of the Catholic Church's
doctrine on the subject of homosexuality and homosexual acts is so
profound and such a real expression of love that it can easily dominate
conversation. Yet it is a teaching which is frequently ignored among
traditional Catholics and derided by heterodox Church members. This
is a shame and must be corrected, for the sake of all those hundreds
of thousands who seek a similar message and might enter the Church
if they heard it. In my opinion clergy and laity, have an obligation
to state the truth of Christ wherever we are and to whomever would
hear it. We cannot allow a person's orientation to be an issue if
we are to be faithful to the One who has called us. Here then is what
I would hope Catholics would do in the future:
First, I hope all Catholics will learn what the Church teaches about
homosexuality. Homosexuality, in the Catholic view, is a tendency
toward disordered sexual acts, but it is not a sin in and of itself.
In this it can be said to be no more sinful than an inclination
to heterosexual fornication or adultery. The vast majority of homosexuals
cannot be said to choose to have the desires they have, and many,
including myself, find living with them, in the words of the Catechism
of the Catholic Church, a "trial" (CCC 2358).
Second, I hope traditional Catholics will get over being shocked and
disapproving that homosexual people exist in our world and culture.
This is an attitude that goes beyond simply and properly disapproving
of homosexual acts; it comes perilously close to condemning homosexual
people as human beings.
I think we must all agree that this is something Jesus Christ does
not and would not do and, in fact, warns us away from doing (Matt.
7:1-5, Luke 6:36-37). This disposition, I believe, has done much to
swell the ranks of homosexual Catholics whose behavior seems bent
on hell--not simply out of the blindness of sin, but also because
no one has ever offered them the truth in love. Love without truth
can degenerate into selfish violence, but truth without love is brutal.
Third, as hard as it might be, faithful Catholics must learn to recognize
that not all homosexuals are child molesters. The current scandals
of priests abusing altar boys has lent a level of popularity to this
prejudice, but making the term "pederast" interchangeable
with "homosexual" is not only uncharitable, but borders
on slander.
Fourth, I hope Catholic clergy will be more encouraging to homosexual
people about their dignity as human beings, created in the image of
God, and their vocation to chastity, which they share by virtue of
that dignity. More homilies ought to take this admonition from the
Catechism to heart: "Being in the image of God the human
individual possesses the dignity of a person, who is not just something,
but someone. He is capable of self-knowledge, of self-possession,
and of freely giving himself and entering into communion with other
persons. And he is called by grace to a covenant with his Creator,
to offer him a response of faith and love that no other creature can
give in his stead" (CCC 357).
This essential dignity is insulted when traditional Catholics condemn
homosexual people out of hand and when heterodox Catholics patronize
us by trying to make believe that homosexual activity--like other
genital activity outside of marriage--is not sinful and damaging
to our ultimate relationship with God. Ironically enough, both groups
are guilty of much the same attitude: defining homosexual people not
by the virtue to which they are capable with God's grace, but by activity
which that grace can empower them to resist.
Fifth, I hope more bishops, clergy, religious, and lay people come
to acknowledge and support the powerful ministry of Fr. John Harvey,
O.S.F.S., and his group, Courage. [For information on the location
of Courage chapters, write to Courage, c/o St. Michael's Rectory,
424 West 34th Street, New York, NY 10001, or call (212) 421-0426.]
Starting from a small seed of concern, Fr. Harvey's organization has
grown over the years to become a vital and supportive presence to
thousands of homosexual people who are either leaving an actively
gay life or who struggle privately against an inclination to homosexual
sin.
Courage chapters around the country provide an important ministry
of compassion because it is often in such places that the bare bones
of Church dogma can be fleshed out in chaste friendship. It is not
good for a man to be alone, Scripture teaches, and groups such as
Courage can provide a needed antidote to the loneliness or emotional
isolation which can inflict many who seek to live a chaste life. The
Church recognizes this necessity: "Homosexual persons are called
to chastity. By the virtues of self-mastery that teach them inner
freedom, at times by the support of disinterested friendship, by prayer
and sacramental grace, they can and should gradually and resolutely
approach Christian perfection" (CCC 2359).
Given that this teaching is the authoritative doctrine of the Church,
how is it that so few of the dioceses in the United States have a
Courage chapter? It is a scandal that some dioceses have not even
explored beginning a Courage chapter--or have rejected one outright.
To deny homosexual Catholics a haven at the foot of the cross is a
sin against charity and provides evidence of a disturbing meanness
of spirit.
Sixth, if there is one overarching teaching that the Church should
emphasize in the future, not only for homosexual Catholics, but for
all Christendom, it would be the role Christ our Redeemer plays in
the formation of our primary identity.
Identity is like a pair of glasses. It is through our understanding
of self that we interpret and view God, people, and our world. This
is why Paul, in writing to the Church in Corinth for the second time,
explained, "From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human
point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point
of view, we know him no longer in that way" (2 Cor. 5:16).
What was it about his readers that Paul thought would change their
way of looking at themselves and each other? It was living in the
light of faith in Christ Jesus. Consider this definition of "gayness,"
which I have developed after over a decade of reflection on the question:
Being gay means giving oneself over to one's sexual orientation to
the point where it becomes a foundation and center of one's identity.
One can be a person with a homosexual orientation, but one cannot
be "gay" in the modern context and be a person with just
a homosexual orientation. In the act of self-identification, "coming
out," which is so important to the gay community, one sacrifices
individual personhood for identity in the group. Homosexual orientation
moves from being a peripheral.aspect of one's personality to being
a defining.aspect.
If you are a Christian who has made this choice, I believe there is
reason to examine your heart for evidence of idolatry. I have observed
that once a person has made a decision that he is not merely homosexually
oriented, but is gay, then orientation tends to be a dominant.aspect
of his identity and everything else--society, faith, institutions,
and even God--will be viewed and judged through that particular
lens. Homosexual orientation is not a choice for most people, but
being gay is, and it is this choice which motivates homosexual groups
ranging from Dignity to ACT UP.
Such a wrong understanding of our identity, I believe, is the source
of these disastrous errors because rooting ourselves in anything outside
of Christ undermines our efforts at obedience or following him.
If I, whether homosexual or not, do not unite my primary identity
first and forever with that of Christ, then any notion I might have
of ruling or restraining behavior will never succeed. It is to the
identity of Christ, his whole self present in the Eucharist and remembered
in the creed, to which I owe my first allegiance. All others, relationships,
desires, thoughts, and hopes should be ordered around that one great
truth and exist only in relation to him.
In the three years since pledging myself to a chaste life in obedience
to Christ, I have communicated about this issue with dozens, if not
hundreds, of homosexual men and women, people of all faiths and of
none. God has seen fit to use some of what I have written to influence
a few to re-examine their assumptions about faith, sexuality, and
identity. Some have been led to change their opinions. Others have
not. I have been struck at how few have rejected the teaching of the
Church outright. Instead, at the risk of being overly broad, the objections
I have faced have been of three general types.
First, in an argument based on confusing celibacy and chastity, some
advance the notion that while a few may be called to be celibate,
the vast majority of homosexual people are not meant to restrain their
sexual desires for a lifetime.
Second is a closely related argument which can be summed up, roughly,
as "God made me this way, so what I do must be pleasing to him."
Here too a few raise the objection that to expect them to sacrifice
genital sexuality is to ask them to act "unnaturally."
Finally, some say, "God is love. What I do with my lover has
love as its focus. Therefore God must approve of what we do, or at
least not disapprove of it, since God is love."
I have encountered a mix of these almost from the beginning, and I
think it might be useful to point out how they might be answered.
People who confuse chastity and celibacy need to be reminded of what
the Church actually teaches about the two (paragraphs 2348-2350 of
the new Catechism are a useful resource) and they need to
have that distinction brought home in a practical manner. They often
need to be reminded that homosexual people are not the only ones God
has called to lifelong chastity as lay people. After all, if a heterosexual
man or woman can live chastely, why is a chaste life impossible for
a homosexual man or woman?
While it is true that this is not a reality all willingly embrace,
it is nonetheless true that the same call of obedient dignity that
precludes homosexual genital activity also precludes heterosexual
genital activity outside of marriage. Chastity is not a matter of
extraordinary grace, but is a minimal standard for Christian men and
women, no matter their orientation.
Those who argue that homosexuality is God-given need to be reminded
of basic facts. Homosexual people are not mentioned in the Bible at
all, and if God really created an entire third gender of human beings,
wouldn't he have said something about it? Moreover, that something
exists does not prove that it exists as God envisioned it. In fact,
Scripture teaches the opposite.
Death, disease, and pain came upon not only human beings, but upon
all of creation because of Adam's sin (Rom. 5:12, 8:20-23). We bear
this fallen creation in our bodies and in our minds, down into our
very genes if the evidence of such diseases as hemophilia and Tay-Sachs
are to be believed.
That most homosexual people cannot recall ever deciding to be homosexual
does not mean that God loves homosexual sex any more than he loves
adultery, fornication, or idolatry. Orientation may not be a choice.
Actions almost always are.
The third line of reasoning can best be addressed by probing what
is meant by "love," both in the mind of the persons engaged
in the conversation and in the mind of Christ as well as the magisterium
of the Church. If one truly loves another person, does one join him
in activity that frequently causes harm? (Even before the arrival
of HIV, sexually-transmitted disease in homosexually-active men was
the subject of epidemiological concern). If one loves the other person,
does one demand that he serve as a sexual object? Can sexually-active
homosexuality ever be more than this, given that there can be no other
ultimate object than pleasure?
Modern people need to be reminded that God destined a dual purpose
in sex, unity between man and woman as well an avenue for the procreation
of children. When one completely and intentionally removes either
one of these conditions, the use of sex degenerates into misuse.
I have left love for the end because, in the end, that is what this
debate is all about. There is an old saying that all the best lies
have an element of truth. This is nowhere better illustrated than
in the discussion of homosexuality.
Gay activists appeal to the public mind by defending their "right
to love whom they choose." In doing so they count on the muddled
understanding of love which is so much abroad right now, and on the
lie that all loves are equal.
But while they teach truth in generality, there is falsehood in their
specific. As much as gay activists might wish to claim gay love imitates
the divine, it is simply not so. At the heart of divine love is the
transcendent desire to lose self in the good of the other, and, as
both my life's experience and reason have taught me, an actively homosexual
life precludes that desire. True love, Christ's love, will not bow
to the whims of erotic enchantment or desire. True love knows restraint,
Christ told us, just before he showed us, that there is no greater
love than that we lay down our lives for our friends (John 15:13).
The greatest love is his, the perfect sacrifice of self that others
might benefit. It is this most holy, most difficult, most chaste form
of love to which homosexual men and women are called. We are summoned,
like the apostle Paul, to pour ourselves out for the good of the Kingdom,
sharing with many the talents and fruit which, had we been heterosexually
oriented, we might have shared primarily with spouse and children.
I do not mean to write glibly about this particular cross. If my words
here sound bloodless or impersonal, it is only because I do not wish
to make myself the focus. The story of the emotional struggle and
sacrifice which have come with this path is long and deep enough that
it cannot be told here. Although I have not dwelt on the emotional
details, faithful Catholics need to know that there are devoted, chaste
homosexuals in their parishes, religious orders, and apostolates and
that many of us live lives of deep sacrifice for the sake of the Kingdom.
Most of us are quiet. Many of us you will never know. But all of us
stand in need of your prayers, charity, and good will.
I end with two quotations relevant to identity and discipleship. The
first is from Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. Julia is
explaining her decision not to marry her lover, after their affair
and after divorcing their original spouses. Her words have to do with
choosing to serve God or something else--a choice we each face:
"How can I tell what I shall do? You know the whole of me. You
know I am not one for a life of mourning. I've always been bad. Probably
I shall be bad again, punished again. But the worse I am, the more
I need God. I can't shut myself out from his mercy. That is what it
would mean; starting a life with you, without him. One can only hope
to see one step ahead. But I saw today there was one thing unforgivable
. . . the bad thing I was on the point of doing, that I am not quite
bad enough to do; to set up a rival good to God's." [Evelyn
Waugh, Brideshead Revisited (New York: Dell, 1960), 309.]
The second is from Bonhoeffer's The Cost of Discipleship:
"And if we answer the call to discipleship, where will it lead
us? What decisions and partings will it demand? To answer this question
we will have to go to him, for only he knows the answer. Only Jesus
Christ, who bids us to follow him, knows the journey's end. But we
do know it will be a road of boundless mercy. Discipleship means joy." [Bonhoeffer, 41.]
David C. Morrison resides near Washington, D.C. and
is a writer, editor, and student. He is a regular visitor to the
religious forums on electronic bulletin boards.
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