AS A Catholic and as a homosexually oriented man, I am deeply grateful to the Roman Catholic Church for its position on homosexuality and homosexual acts. Roman Catholicism, almost alone among Christendom?s Churches, refuses to either patronise homosexuals with a watered down gospel or brutalise them with a message of irredeemable hostility. The Roman Catholic Church loves me and all the men and women like me who live as homosexuals, looks at us as the adults we are, and says that we, too, can resolutely co-operate with the Holy Spirit to sanctify our lives. We are called to sainthood and the narrow road that brings us there. I did not recognise the value of this teaching easily. From the age of 21 to 28 I lived as a gay activist, accepting and preaching the message the gay community offers today: active homosexuality, as long as it was practised safely and in commitment, was no worse than heterosexual activity under the same guidelines. Scriptural or other moral teachings which argued otherwise were simply out-of-date and were probably authored by homophobes. I speedily went about accumulating the things that made up a successful gay life. I took a lover for a long-term relationship, got on the fast track at work and vacationed at gay resorts. My friends were gay, my relationship was gay, my workplace was gay-friendly and my life seemed filled with youth and pleasure. But I was not happy. My heart tossed restlessly, as St Augustine?s had also, and every new pleasure sought brought only sharper pangs. After having so much of what the gay world took for granted, it wasn?t enough and in the early spring of my twenty-eighth year I turned my life over to Jesus Christ and began to explore what taking up my Cross meant. That exploration led me gradually, and with many fits and starts, to the Roman Catholic faith where I have lived, gratefully, ever since. The Church?s teaching on homosexual orientation and chastity have been two great liberators on my journey. The uniqueness of Catholic teaching on homosexual orientation stems mainly from its lack of determinism. Men and women with a homosexual orientation are neither automatically candidates for praise (on the grounds of their being oppressed) or damnation (on account of inherent sinfulness). Just like everyone else, they can choose either good or evil. This is a position filled with respect because it recognises us as being children of God and not mere beasts subject to instinct alone. The Church?s corollary position, that homosexuals are called to chastity, also contributes to this teaching?s unique expression of grace because of what it teaches about love. Contemporary culture is filled with counterfeits to love. We say we ?love? food, ?love? our pets, ?love? the outdoors, ?love? our parents and children and ?love? our spouses. But so much of the time we do not love them as much as what they can do for us. We love food for its taste, pets for their companionship, the outdoors for its beauty. And we often bind up our love for parents, children and spouses with conditions and tinge it with self-interest.

THIS HAS played out most strongly in my experience of life before committing to chastity and life afterwards. When I was homosexually active with my partner we would sometimes call our sexual acts ?making love?, but it was not so much love as utility. Each made the other, with their consent, a means to an end. But that is not love. And it contrasts sharply with my experience after committing myself to chastity. To the surprise of almost everyone, and in defiance of all attempts to label us, our relationship has continued after our ceasing sexual activity. We found that our emotional commitment to one another, and to our joint life together, grew after we stopped having sex because it was a wonderful realisation that what we mean to one another extends far past our bedroom door. All of us want, and deserve, to be accepted at a deep emotional level for who we are, not for whether we can fill another?s needs. Paradoxically, this kind of emotional commitment suffers most when sex becomes part of a friendship. Chaste love can be difficult at times, but then so can all living in truth. I give thanks to God that the Catholic Church understands this well enough to teach it, and to have supported an organisation in the United States called Courage, which exists to help homosexuals live out this teaching. Over the course of my two years in Courage I have made more, and deeper, friendships than I ever did during all the time I was actively gay and I am convinced that such a witness will help our surrounding culture come to a deeper understanding of the true nature of love.

The author is an American writer and editor who lives in Arlington, Virginia. He can be reached via the Internet at DCMorrison@aol.com.

Back to homepage