I trust in God, it’s as simple as that

This post has been a long time coming. I haven’t spoken about God, the Catholic Church or my faith much on this blog (partly because I know that many readers don’t share that faith, partly because it is so private, and partly because I am still figuring it all out), but in light of recent events and some things I’ve read recently, I guess now is the time. So. I am Catholic. This is part of the reason it took me so long to come to terms with being gay, I don’t deny it.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let’s start at the beginning. Sister and I were never dragged to church kicking and screaming as children like our parents were. We found God on our own. Despite not going to church as a child, I always considered myself Catholic, I just didn’t know what it entailed exactly.

Fast forward to 1999, the year I became ill, a year filled with uncertainty, depression and anxiety over my identity and place in the world. I was fifteen. I went to a lunch-time Christian group, ostensibly non-denominational but in practice fiercely Pentecostal (the friend I mentioned in the post “Insidious” also attended the group). One lunch time we were discussing differences between the denominations of Christianity and it turned into an open slather forum on what was wrong with Catholicism. As I didn’t know much about the church, I struggled to refute their accusations of heresy. My self-esteem and sense of self shattered, I decided to go to mass that weekend. At the mass there was an announcement about a weekend for youth that was being held at the parish in a month’s time. I put my name down. I went. I had a great time.

It was at this weekend that I “found God”. It wasn’t as glittery as Damascus, but it was sufficiently euphoric nonetheless. It was also at this weekend that I caught the flu, which ultimately lead to my ME/CFS.

Over the next two years, I went to mass and to the youth group and I learned about God, Jesus, Mary, John-Paul II and the whole crew. I was confirmed at 16 in 2000. It was around this time that the question of sexuality reared its ugly head. I knew I liked boys, I didn’t want to, but I did nonetheless. God knew I did, despite my best efforts to hide it from everyone, even Him. We were given a copy of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, which says this on the matter:

“Homosexuality refers to relations between men or between women who experience an exclusive or predominant sexual attraction toward persons of the same sex. It has taken a great variety of forms through the centuries and in different cultures. Its psychological genesis remains largely unexplained. Basing itself on Sacred Scripture, which presents homosexual acts as acts of grave depravity, tradition has always declared that "homosexual acts are intrinsically disordered." They are contrary to the natural law. They close the sexual act to the gift of life. They do not proceed from a genuine affective and sexual complementarity. Under no circumstances can they be approved.” (CCC 2357)

At this point, I was really confused.

After the watershed, I stopped going to mass. I felt unwanted and unvalued. Four years later I finally admitted I was gay. But I still didn’t know where this fit in with my faith in God and religion, so I did my best to ignore it. It didn’t work. I finally worked out that they are two separate issues: faith is private, religion is public. Two years later I’m still working it out.

So where does that leave me? I believe in the God of love, yet my religion continues its campaign of hate against my gay, lesbian, bi, transgender and intersex brothers and sisters. I read a recent interview with Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu:

He said the Anglican Church had seemed “extraordinarily homophobic” in its handling of the issue, and that he had felt “saddened” and “ashamed” of his church at the time.
Asked if he still felt ashamed, he said: “If we are going to not welcome or invite people because of sexual orientation, yes.”
“If God, as they say, is homophobic, I wouldn’t worship that God.”

The Catholic Church is much the same, maybe even more so. I agree with what Archbishop Tutu says. I do not worship a homophobic God.

I still don’t know how it all fits together, to be honest, but that is what faith is: belief despite doubt or trouble. At the moment I’m waiting to be put in touch with a friend of Kate’s who is a gay pastor; I’m hoping he can help me connect the seemingly unending string of contradictory connect-the-dots. But, the way I see it, we mere mortals can’t blame God because there are other homophobic mortals working for him, purporting to speak for him. I often think “it must be nice to be so assured” when I hear Sister and the “unknowing homophobes” spout their rubbish and hate. But the point is I believe in God’s love more than I reject the church’s hate.

I trust in God, it’s as simple as that.