Academic Phillip Berryman has called liberation theology, “an interpretation of Christian faith through the poor’s suffering, their struggle and hope, and a critique of society and the Catholic faith and Christianity through the eyes of the poor.”1
Gay liberation was and continues to be for many, a movement urging gay people to be open about their sexual identity, in order to take away the myths and desegregate gay lives from those of straight people.
They share a common word; liberation. The Oxford English Dictionary tells us that the word is a noun meaning, “the act of setting someone free from imprisonment, slavery, or oppression; release:”2 Imprisonment, slavery and oppression, all three of these words describe the status of many gay people today even in our own country, the UK. The eponymous closet is simply too safe to disregard completely for some.
As Gutiérrez says in the ‘Theology of Liberation’3 “In the past, concern for social praxis in theological thought did not sufficiently take into account the political dimension.” As Gutiérrez points out here, scholarly interest in how theology informs how we respond to others hasn’t considered the political factors that shape our everyday lives. This is even more so when we consider gay liberation.
In light of this, it might be easy to dismiss theological comment upon gay, and LGBT, identity and lives as unresponsive and indeed openly hostile. The rhetoric used by some clergy and certainly by the majority of hierarchical clergy, i.e. bishops and higher, has done nothing to endear gay people to their cause and has caused some deep divisions in outlook, significantly perhaps in the US, where the disconnect between lay Catholic and higher clergy is very apparent.4
But it is theology that may well turn the tide in the wider church, and it is only theology that will inform a change of heart in those who hold it dear, such as the Holy Father himself.
Despite Benedict’s apparent disregard for liberation theology’s sound scriptural grounding, it has still worked itself into the fabric of the church over the years and is now loosely the standard descriptor for how the church responds to the issue of poverty.5
A phrase that Gutierrez used to great affect is ‘we drink from our own well’. What on earth does this mean? And how does it liberate LGBT people from the bonds of heteronormative ascendency? When we look at our own actions within the social fabric of our country, or countries, do we see our liberation being played out by ourselves, or by others? Are we defined by the actions of others?
A favourite statement of mine, and one I often ignore, is ‘Don’t let others define your own happiness.’ Is that what we do?
The political fight for LGBT rights is not over by a long shot, and yet within our own population dynamic, we are letting go of the political. Take Pride parades. Once upon a time they used to be a vocal statement about who we were, what we wanted and how we wanted our lives to be recognised. As Peter Tatchell has pointed out, this is no longer the case in the majority, as they have now become commercialised exponents of what Tom Robinson termed ‘Glad to be gay’.
Antithetical to this, although still filling the entertainment need in our sub-culture, are Pride parades around the world. In Israel, where the ultra-orthodox gather to throw stones at us; in Eastern Europe, where neo-NAZIs gather to try and beat us up, aided and abetted by the police; in South and Latin America, where our very existence is dependent on avoiding the gangs with murder on their mind, again, all too often aided and abetted by the police, who significantly take a leading role in LGBT murders in some instances. Where do we, in the so-called developed and Western world stand in relation to these, our oppressed kin overseas? Do we offer our own lives in testimony to their sufferings, to their wounds, or do we do our best to ignore the problems and celebrate the colourful diversity in Pride around the world?
If liberation is to mean anything, it has to mean we stand with others, less fortunate than ourselves, with our political and economic leverage and our happy and carefree Pride parades, we have to feel what they suffer. That is where the preferential option for the queer comes in. Where we can drink from our own wells, take our own lives, identities and pride, and use it to focus on those who suffer unlike anything we can possibly experience.
We all suffer, to some extent. My grievances, my wounds are not the same as yours, but we both suffer in equal measure to our experiences. We may not be killed for who we are, maybe, we may not fear the knock or tap on the shoulder from a hooded gunman/police officer, but we suffer. Bullying and harassment kills as much as gunshot as does. It kills us physically, and it kills us emotionally, turning our souls into bleak harbours of terror.
We must use this, drink of it, to inform our fight for the liberation of all LGBT people everywhere. Until we can look inwards and recognise the suffering in each of us for what it is, we cannot begin to feel, empathise, with those who suffer everywhere.
We have a long and glorious history of ignoring problems in our own cultures, until they get so big, they smother us. Take apart the defensive walls and try to manage the oppressions we feel, turn them to a good use. Liberation. Liberation from our own self-imposed bonds, liberation from cultural bonds, liberation from self-interest and towards an active empathy for those who suffer in ways we can only imagine. Take our own suffering and link it, through positive action and a definite will with the suffering of those in less accepting/tolerant countries.
Peter Tatchell took to the streets in Moscow6. He stood side by side with LGBT people in a banned parade, with the missiles of the extremists raining down, and the batons of the police uncovered. He knows what a preferential option for the queer means.
We all don’t need to go to such lengths, indeed many of us simply cannot afford to, but we can make a stand for our kin here and now. Take back Pride and put it to use for what it was initially meant for; a change of political will. As LGBT Christians it is our duty to stand up for others who are suffering. Christ tells us as much, as do the Prophets of the Hebrew bible.
Look at the parable of the good Samaritan. Is that you? Seeing a foreigner being hurt and going to their aid, or do you do as the Pharisee did and walk on by, blissfully ignoring the pain of others, so that your life may remain trouble free. A preferential option for anyone other than ourselves means we must, I repeat must, put ourselves out, remove our cloak of comfort and give it to another more in need than we. Don’t ignore your own suffering, or of those around you in your immediate culture, but to be so narrowly defined by compassion that you only care for your immediate neighbour is not the Christian way. Cast your cloak wide and stand with those whose own dominant culture is not only alien to you, but is killing them.
References
- Berryman, Phillip, Liberation Theology: essential facts about the revolutionary movement in Latin America and beyond (1987)
- “liberation“. Oxford Dictionaries. April 2010. Oxford University Press. 10 January 2012 .
- Gutiérrez, Gustavo, A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation (2001)
- New Poll Shows Strong Catholic Support for Gay Rights (Religion Dispatches)
- Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, paragraphs 182-184.
- ‘Moscow police collude with neo-Nazis’
