One of the most important issues of our day in the church concerns the inclusion of LGBTQ+ people. My own congregation became "Open and Affirming" just last year, after several years of open discussion. As difficult as that work was for a congregation, which has a great degree of autonomy, you can imagine the difficulty with which a Christian communion that is both ancient and nearly universal. While winds of change are being felt, it may take years, even generations for those changes to be fully experienced. For those most affected by the church's lack of movement, change may not come quick enough, for others it is coming at too rapid of a pace. So how does one build a bridge that allows for productive conversation between an ancient institutional church that finds it difficult to institute change (look at what happened with Vatican II) and the LGBTQ community?
Into the midst of this conversation steps James Martin, a Jesuit theologian and author, who has demonstrated a unique ability to stand in the gap on a number of issues. He is one who desires to be faithful to the church he has committed himself to serve and the people whom has come to know, people who are often marginalized and excluded. Such is the case here. He builds on Catholic teaching and personal experience to build a bridge that involves respect, compassion, and sensitivity.
The origins of this brief, readable, thoughtful book, is to be found in the response of Catholic leaders to the shooting at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando. He writes that he found revelatory the fact that "only a few Catholic bishops acknowledged the LGBT community or even used the word gay at such a time that the LGBT community is still invisible in many quarters of the church. Even in tragedy it's members are invisible." (p. 2) He acknowledges that a chasm exists between the institutional church and the LGBT community, and that a bridge needs to be built. He hopes that this little book can be the start of that effort. He writes from the perspective of one who has "ministered to and worked with LGBT people, most of them Catholics." (p. 3). In addition to his relationships with LGBT folks, and their families, he has also worked with Catholic leaders. So, he knows the lay of the land. He knows of the deep hurt felt by those excluded and their families, and he seeks to address them.
This book, he notes emerged from a presentation given to a Catholic group -- New Ways Ministry, which "ministers to and advocates for LGBT Catholics. He received an award from that group for his work in building bridges. He seeks, in this book, to urge the church he loves to treat LGBT people with "respect, compassion, and sensitivity," as well as asking that the LGBT community would reciprocate in their relationships with the church. He knows the difficulty in what he asks of those hurt by the church, but he also knows that there are many in the church, like himself, even among the hierarchy, that want the church to be fully welcoming. He asks, however, for time and for patience, qualities he knows are difficult to express. He writes with compassion and desire to see change. He would like it to come faster, but as he notes, this is not just an American church, and so what sounds rather bland to an American audience might be seen as radical to the ears of Catholics in other parts of the world. Finding a way to bridge that chasm is also part of the journey.
I read the book as a Protestant who is cisgender, heterosexual, married, white, privileged. I have a brother, a cousin, a cousin-in-law who are gay. I have church members and colleagues in ministry who are gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, transgender. I have learned from them that each story is different and distinct. It is with this context that I read this book written by a Catholic to members of the Catholic Church, whether LGBT members or Catholic leaders. I am not the primary audience, but I appreciate his commitment to pursuing a conversation that calls for people to engage each other with respect, compassion, and sensitivity, even when one is not in complete agreement with the other. This is not simply a call to agree to disagree. This is a call to engagement. It is a call to build a bridge so that Catholic tradition can be respected, even as the institutional church responds with compassion and respect to the concerns and needs of members who are LGBTQ. This is important to hear. Martin makes it clear that there are faithful Catholics who are gay, lesbian, bi, transgender, and wrestling with their identity. He is friends with them. He acknowledges them as brothers and sisters in Christ. Does he wish the church would move faster. Yes. But he also understands that you don't turn a super-tanker on a dime.
Even if you are not Catholic, this is worth reading. It might be helpful to the conversation within the congregation. That is especially true because Martin provides the readers with a set of "Biblical Passages for Reflection and Meditation." These are not the typical texts one engages when addressing the question of inclusion. These are texts that deal with names and naming, different gifts, care for those who are persecuted, Jesus meeting people where they are, a reminder that we are all "wonderfully made," God is our strength, Jesus' own proclamation of his identity, the call of Peter, the appearance of the risen Christ to Mary Magdalene, and the road to Emmaus. Discussion questions are provided for each text. As you can see, none of the texts are directed to matters of sexual orientation or identity. They are designed to get us talking about our common faith and common humanity. That seems to be a better place to start.
The book concludes with a prayer that Martin wrote titled "A Prayer for when I feel rejected." It is written for "all who feel excluded, rejected, marginalized, shamed, or persecuted, in any way or in any place, religious or otherwise" (p. 144). The prayer begins with a recognition that God has made us all who we are: "I praise you and love you, for I am wonderfully made, in your image."
Again, I highly recommend this book to the church at large, for it is a call to conversation that can turn the page, for God is in the conversation.