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               Happy Halloween from Here Cat.

Ranty Ramblings of a Roamin' Catholic

Okay -- this is what I had really wanted to write a while back, before when I went off on a spiel how great the Catholic church (and many other Christian churches) can be.

The plain truth is: church is also frustrating and maddening. I’m not even talking about the abuses, hypocrisies, and sundry other crazinesses that litter its history and its current manifestations. There is also just the day-by-day balancing beam of praying and loving and serving with people who may or may not be on the same wavelength. And also, the variety of approaches to dealing with, challenging, and/or ducking dastardly dictates from on high.

Here’s just one example of this: There are two midlife women in my Engaging Spirituality group who are married to each other. I’ll call them Dierdre and Molly. They got hitched during the brief window of time when same-sex marriage was legal in our state of residence, but they have been living in commitment to each other for more than twenty years. Dierdre was raised Catholic and has always felt most deeply at home spiritually in Catholic churches. And, to a certain extent, the institutional church welcomes her. The Holy See considers homosexual orientation to be “objectively disordered” – neither a choice nor a sin. They see it as a kind of congenital condition, I guess? – somewhat akin to a disability. So, according to the Vatican, it is "okay" to be gay – just as long as one doesn’t act on his or her orientation and have a lover / spouse of the same sex. In essence (and despite a lot of disagreement on this in the pews) Catholic gays and lesbians are supposed to be celibate, as is a straight Catholic who is not living within the sacrament of marriage. 

While Molly was not raised in a particular religious tradition, she became Catholic as an adult after being drawn to the church through her relationship with Dierdre. The pastor at our church -- who has long known about their relationship – welcomes them and accepts their civil marriage. While he cannot officially bless their couplehood, the two are welcome to receive communion. This would not be the case in some Catholic churches, where many priests would say that “living in sin” or being “outside of the state of grace” bars them from receiving communion. (And there are some bishops – Newark Archbishop John Meyers, for example -- who are demanding that gay-marriage-supporting Catholics in their dioceses stop taking communion. More lines being drawn in more sand. But despair not. Check out this Huff Po article by Rev. Daniel C. Storrs.)

Molly’s connection to the Catholic church has always been uneasy. Though grateful for our pastor’s support and for the acceptance and love of several Catholic friends and co-parishioners, she and Dierdre are still partially closeted in church. Even in our fairly liberal parish, there are still certain folks who would find their relationship unacceptable. Molly describes it as a kind of liturgical “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. She and Dierdre can go to church together, but they must avoid expressions of affection that other couples take for granted. In introductions among church friends and acquaintances, they cannot refer to each other as wife -- at least not until they feel comfortable enough to let their hair down. And part of this tip-toeing concern is for our pastor, who could get in trouble if our bishop got word that married lesbians receive the Eucharist in his church.

Over the past year, Molly grew increasingly weary of this church closet. It’s difficult enough to live with the day-to-day intolerances of the larger U.S. society – having to be closeted in the space that is supposed to be a spiritual home grated harshly against her sense of integrity, decency, and self-respect. So she started attending a nearby Episcopal church, where her marriage to Dierdre could be shared openly, among all the congregants.  So far, her wife Dierdre has stuck with the Catholic church – attending Mass on Saturday afternoons but also joining Molly at the Episcopal liturgies on Sunday. We joke with Dierdre that she is going to become really holy, attending two churches each weekend.

Recently Molly invited our ES group and several other friends to attend a ceremony celebrating her reception into the Episcopal church. She radiated such joy that day – new suit, new highlights in her hair – standing next to her wife without having to hide or dance with duplicity.  The Molly contingent (most of us Catholic, including at least 3 nuns) filled about a third of the medium-sized chapel, part of a simple and elegantly-designed space comprised of several units inside an industrial park.

The bishop of the local Episcopal diocese – a warmly sincere, slightly goofy, and welcoming fellow -- was the presider. Beyond Molly’s elation, what I remember most about this day was the open discussion that occurred at the end of the service, when the bishop invited those gathered to ask questions or voice a concern.

One of the questions we explored was the role that today's worshipping communities play in a culture that frequently sees religion as working at cross-purposes to secularism, democracy, and reason. As the bishop explained, the three top adjectives that non-church-goers use to describe those in the pews are: judgmental, hypocritical, and homophobic. Nearly everyone sighed sadly and shook their heads, recognizing the truth in these descriptors – even though it’s not the complete truth. One woman in her 80s shared her experience of how she grew out of her judgments and fears about homosexuality after her daughter came out to her. Now, with the two of them reconciled and attending the same open and affirming church, she has great hope for an evolving Christianity.

Another person asked if the bishop believed in hell. I felt him treading carefully here, a high-level religious leader in a mixed crowd of children and adults. Chuckling, he began by saying “well, hmm … sometimes this stuff ends up on the internet.” (So of course, this kindly man remains incognito in this-here pseudonymous blog, and a part of me can’t help but wonder if Christianity is evolving all that much if even an Episcopal bishop has to be this cautious about what he says…). But I loved his response, which took the form of a thoughtful rhetorical question: “If you go to ‘heaven,’ and yet others are in ‘hell,’ – can you really be in heaven?”

And the bishop ended up admitting that he believed truth was revealed in all the major religions, and that he disagreed with the claim that Jesus is the “one and only way” to be saved/transformed/heavenbound: “Is Jesus a way or the way? I find that he is the way for me, but to say that he must be the way for all is perilous.”

Really, just a delightful part of the celebration, this informal pre-barbecue chat with the bishop. And so here I go again, jabbering on about the wonders of church, when I had intended at least somewhat of a rant about how crazy and wearisome Christian worshipping communities can be. Alas, perhaps I’m an Episcopalian in Catholic drag -- not that there's anything wrong with that -- and the dissonance keeps throwing my aim off. 

Check it Out: More Heretic Catholics!

Hey all you Roman Catholics out there who watched the October 11 debate between Joe Biden and Paul Ryan, both "active Catholics": Did you notice that neither candidate agrees with the Vatican's position on abortion? The Church's official stance is that human life is "sacred and inviolable" from conception until natural death and that Christians must never "intentionally kill, or collude in the killing of, any innocent human life, no matter how broken, unformed, disabled, or desperate that live may seem." In the eyes of the hierarchy, this basically means no abortions in any circumstances. [Tangential comment: the Church actually does allow a rare exception to this rule. There is a procedure referred to as an "indirect abortion" -- which occurs when the primary goal is to save the mother's life and involves no intentional killing of an embryo or fetus. Such a situation might arise when a pregnant woman has malignant uterine cancer and must have her uterus removed, resulting in the unintentional death of the fetus].    

Paul Ryan defines himself as "pro-life" (I always put those words in quotes because it's used as a manipulative buzz-phrase. I mean -- come on, who isn't "for life?" For more commentary, check out this post). However, he would allow for exceptions in the case of rape, incest, or to save the life of the mother. This is not in alignment with Church doctrine, which values unborn life no matter the circumstances of conception. (The Church has also canonized Gianna Beretta Molla, a woman who refused to have an abortion when she was pregnant with her fourth child, even though she knew that continuing the pregnancy would likely kill her...)

Joe Biden says that he personally accepts the Church's stance on abortion, but does not feel that one religion's views should be imposed on a diverse population -- acknowledging that others, even devout Christians and other religious practitioners, hold differing views on abortion. During the debate, he stated "I do not believe that we have a right to tell other people -- women -- that they cannot control their body. It's a decision between them and their doctor, in my view." This also contradicts the Church's position. The Vatican has maintained that politicians should not separate their personal and political views -- that U.S. public servants who are Catholic must take an anti-choice stance and do what they can to overturn Roe v. Wade. 

I'm more in agreement with Biden on this issue, of course. But also, I'm just appreciating that the U.S. public got to see two different Catholic opinions on abortion  -- and opinions which both disagreed with official Church doctrine. Catholic heretics are not just the non-practicing and so-called "fallen-away" folks. Catholic heretics are active: in the pews, on church pastoral boards, serving in missions, teaching in  universities, debating as politicians -- with widely varying opinions, challenging (and being challenged by) the Vatican, disagreeing with each other -- and yet still walking together, even if stumblingly... And learning, and stretching out, rooted in an inexplicable wild love -- even when we can't feel it, even when it's hidden from us.

Hear our crazy, bumbling, malarkey-filled prayers.

A Truly "Here Cat"