Emails
I recently wrote an email to my parish priest.
Dear Father [his name],
You certainly must have heard about the recent controversy in the
Archdiocese of Denver surrounding the preschool- and kindergarten-age
siblings who will not be allowed to return to her Catholic school
because they have two lesbian mothers. I am horribly dismayed and
embarrassed by this story, particularly as it comes on the heels of
the decision by the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, to limit employee
spousal benefits and discontinue its foster care program because of
same-sex marriage legalization.
These very public actions do nothing to promote the love of Jesus
Christ and the spiritual riches offered by the Catholic Church.
Instead, these actions further fracture the Body of Christ. They
alienate not only those outsiders who already feel distrust,
negativity, or simply ambivalence towards the Church, but also
faithful Catholics who see the discordance and hypocrisy in these
decisions.
I have always been pleased that stories like these do not come out of
the Diocese of [our diocese], at least not that I have ever
heard. I am likewise pleased that in my experience, [our parish] does
not dwell unnaturally on popularly divisive issues such as
homosexuality. I hope that we faithful of this parish and this diocese
will continue to be blessed with spiritual leadership that unites
rather than divides, and that ministers to all who seek the kingdom of
God.
I am writing to you simply to let my thoughts be known. The loudest
voices are too often those exclusionary and extreme ones. There seems
to be little else I can do about these issues besides pray.
Sincerely, [my name]
He wrote me back.
Hi Jessica,
You are right: Pastoral application of universal laws and truths is always difficult. Schools in particular bring this to to forefront because they involve so many different types of people and many who are not of the Catholic faith. Being the pastor of a school is a sure way to an early grave :-)
All in all, a pretty useless exchange. I'm not sure what I was expecting. I'm not even 100% sure why I wrote to him. Usually when this kind of crap comes out in the media, I react by fuming for a little while, maybe ranting a little bit on LJ or with Jason, then leave it alone unless someone else brings it up, and then I talk about how lame and terrible it is.
Also, somewhere along the way, be it inside my own head or coming from someone else, the question "why do you stay in this church?" always comes up. But this time, instead of feeling like leaving really would be the best idea, I just feel stubborn and pissed. Why should these terrible people get to dominate? Why should I be the one to leave when they are the ones who are wrong? "They're just going to have to effing excommunicate me!" I think. "They need me," I think. "I need to stay, to change things from the inside."
In reality, I can't think of how I might change anything. I don't have a penis, so I can't be a priest or a deacon. I'm not as informed or as fluent in theology or as articulate as perhaps I used to be, so even in a lay setting, like the local Theology on Tap, I don't think I could make a good case for any of my ideas, which are mostly just strong emotional impulses. I have very few Catholic friends, and I maintain my isolation from Catholics by avoiding social gatherings at my parish and events like Theology on Tap, because either I think I will have nothing in common with the people there or I think I will be outnumbered by weirdos.
Maybe I'm supposed to raise my children to share my own values and to stay in the church and to bring change to the next generation. But why should they be any more involved than I am?
Sometimes it seems like my insistence on staying is less righteous quest for truth and more psychological quirk. A speed bump. Something went weird somewhere in my life, and that's why I'm like this, and my kids probably won't be. And shouldn't be, because it's not normal.
I wish the priest would have said something of substance in reply to my email. Jason pointed out that my priest is not a bishop and has to be careful what he says, and the fact that he did not jump up in support of the Archdiocese of Denver says something. I'm not so sure, but I suppose it's true that anything he puts in print could come back to bite him, one way or another. And I didn't ask him any questions. I did that on purpose. My purpose was twofold: first, just to say all of that stuff so he would know, in case he doesn't already, that some people out there in the pews aren't okay with this kind of thing, and second to see what he would say in response.
Perhaps I will also write to another priest I have in mind who has been helpful in the past. I just feel like I have to know someone in this institution is with me on this, at least a little.
Dear Father [his name],
You certainly must have heard about the recent controversy in the
Archdiocese of Denver surrounding the preschool- and kindergarten-age
siblings who will not be allowed to return to her Catholic school
because they have two lesbian mothers. I am horribly dismayed and
embarrassed by this story, particularly as it comes on the heels of
the decision by the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, to limit employee
spousal benefits and discontinue its foster care program because of
same-sex marriage legalization.
These very public actions do nothing to promote the love of Jesus
Christ and the spiritual riches offered by the Catholic Church.
Instead, these actions further fracture the Body of Christ. They
alienate not only those outsiders who already feel distrust,
negativity, or simply ambivalence towards the Church, but also
faithful Catholics who see the discordance and hypocrisy in these
decisions.
I have always been pleased that stories like these do not come out of
the Diocese of [our diocese], at least not that I have ever
heard. I am likewise pleased that in my experience, [our parish] does
not dwell unnaturally on popularly divisive issues such as
homosexuality. I hope that we faithful of this parish and this diocese
will continue to be blessed with spiritual leadership that unites
rather than divides, and that ministers to all who seek the kingdom of
God.
I am writing to you simply to let my thoughts be known. The loudest
voices are too often those exclusionary and extreme ones. There seems
to be little else I can do about these issues besides pray.
Sincerely, [my name]
He wrote me back.
Hi Jessica,
You are right: Pastoral application of universal laws and truths is always difficult. Schools in particular bring this to to forefront because they involve so many different types of people and many who are not of the Catholic faith. Being the pastor of a school is a sure way to an early grave :-)
All in all, a pretty useless exchange. I'm not sure what I was expecting. I'm not even 100% sure why I wrote to him. Usually when this kind of crap comes out in the media, I react by fuming for a little while, maybe ranting a little bit on LJ or with Jason, then leave it alone unless someone else brings it up, and then I talk about how lame and terrible it is.
Also, somewhere along the way, be it inside my own head or coming from someone else, the question "why do you stay in this church?" always comes up. But this time, instead of feeling like leaving really would be the best idea, I just feel stubborn and pissed. Why should these terrible people get to dominate? Why should I be the one to leave when they are the ones who are wrong? "They're just going to have to effing excommunicate me!" I think. "They need me," I think. "I need to stay, to change things from the inside."
In reality, I can't think of how I might change anything. I don't have a penis, so I can't be a priest or a deacon. I'm not as informed or as fluent in theology or as articulate as perhaps I used to be, so even in a lay setting, like the local Theology on Tap, I don't think I could make a good case for any of my ideas, which are mostly just strong emotional impulses. I have very few Catholic friends, and I maintain my isolation from Catholics by avoiding social gatherings at my parish and events like Theology on Tap, because either I think I will have nothing in common with the people there or I think I will be outnumbered by weirdos.
Maybe I'm supposed to raise my children to share my own values and to stay in the church and to bring change to the next generation. But why should they be any more involved than I am?
Sometimes it seems like my insistence on staying is less righteous quest for truth and more psychological quirk. A speed bump. Something went weird somewhere in my life, and that's why I'm like this, and my kids probably won't be. And shouldn't be, because it's not normal.
I wish the priest would have said something of substance in reply to my email. Jason pointed out that my priest is not a bishop and has to be careful what he says, and the fact that he did not jump up in support of the Archdiocese of Denver says something. I'm not so sure, but I suppose it's true that anything he puts in print could come back to bite him, one way or another. And I didn't ask him any questions. I did that on purpose. My purpose was twofold: first, just to say all of that stuff so he would know, in case he doesn't already, that some people out there in the pews aren't okay with this kind of thing, and second to see what he would say in response.
Perhaps I will also write to another priest I have in mind who has been helpful in the past. I just feel like I have to know someone in this institution is with me on this, at least a little.