Image via Wikipedia
How can I be sure of something except in the context of a real situation, where it can be fleshed out? How can I be sure about my sexual feelings and orientation except in the context of an actual relationship? Heterosexual or homosexual, I cannot be sure. All my speculation is in vain because it does not correspond to my present reality as a priest. (23 February)
As I tried to explain in my last post, I see my coming out as a process or, to borrow a term in the opening words from Dag Hammarskjöld’s poem, a journey: The longest journey is the journey inwards (“The Longest Journey” in Markings, 2006). Reflecting on the sequence of events that led to my coming out in 2008, and the consequences of the steps taken at that time has helped me to better understand the workings of the Spirit. Yes, “It gets better!” as Dan Savage’s project by the same name goes. But, that doesn’t mean that the going isn’t at times both rough and tough.
It’s as if I’ve uncovered a long-buried bomb. The risks are great, as the bomb may explode in my face; but do I have a choice? My suspicion is that, if things take the wrong direction, my whole faith will be blown to bits. Officially there’s an irreconcilable situation – between the Catholic Church [well, its teaching] and homosexual orientation of a deep-seated kind. And even about this orientation I cannot be sure, not having ever had any sexual encounters. (24 February)
Looking back at those days, it’s quite clear now that the first thing I had to do was to clear the path, particularly to clear my mind from those thoughts and beliefs that were the source of my confused ideas about sexual orientation. At that point, my only source of information had been the various pronouncements made by the Church on the subject – especially the weird distinction between “homosexual orientation” and “homosexual acts” (see, for example, the Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2357-59). In the diary entry above-quoted (28 Feb) I was struggling with what was the latest pronouncement on the subject: the Instruction Concerning the Criteria for the Discernment of Vocations with regard to Persons with Homosexual Tendencies in view of their Admission to the Seminary and to Holy Orders (2005). Even as I was making my first baby steps, the identity conflict was raging inside me. Catholic and gay? Priest and gay? Also on 28 February, I wrote the opening lines to the hymn: Lead, kindly Light (J H Newman). The words took on a new meaning:
Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to seeThe distant scene; one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead thou me on! …
Looking back at those days, and poring over the various entries, I realise how deeply buried the matter of my sexual orientation had been. To what extent was I aware of it? To this very day I fail to fully understand the complexity of the matter. Take, for instance, the following entry:
Possibly, what I’m going through right now is deeper still – so much deeper, and so much more open to misunderstanding. If truth be said, I have made attempts in the past to come to terms with it and failed, both because change did not really come about, and because those I spoke to spurned me or brushed the matter aside. (1 March)
“It” remains an unspoken word; I could not as yet use the word gay. At that point in time I was still unsure of the definiteness of my orientation: “because change did not really come about”. Yeah, how often does one hear this being said? I tried so hard to change. But, for all my prayers and efforts, I was still attracted to other men. I was also aware of the fact that I had tried to explain my situation to a couple of persons way back in time. It must have been in my late teens or early twenties, and I was struggling with the fallout from a string of friendships that came to an end each time I expressed my attraction to the other party. Ah, the love that dare not speak its name! It must have been then that I shut myself in a cast-iron closet.
Clearly, I was still struggling with the word gay. On the 16 March I wrote, amongst other things, the following:
When I hear the word “gay”, it gives me the creeps, because it is associated with a highly artificial world of sex, vain men, glossiness … and yet, on a balance, if I were to consider my choice of relationships, I would choose male companions, even though I get on well with women.
Talk of stereotypes! I really couldn’t identify with what was presented in the media when it comes to the gay life, or gay culture. It was very off-putting, and I couldn’t see myself in what I came across at that stage – it must have been the superficiality of gay culture that struck me back then. It was only much later that I got to know that others had similar reactions, even though they knew in their heart of hearts that they were attracted to other persons of the same sex. Whatever the case, the crucial issue at that point in time was that I was struggling with a tidal wave of thoughts and feelings, but had neither come to a point of accepting myself as I am nor taking the risk to seek help. Like a dog chasing its tail, I was using all my mental and emotional resources struggling with something, and what had I achieved?
Leafing through the pages I noticed that my entries followed a pattern. There were questions about intimacy and love, as well as the correctness of calling oneself gay when one had not given in to same-sex desires. I still had some very strong issues with what the gay scene seemed to offer. I knew I was into men, but why were so many things putting me off? Why was I finding it so hard to come out to others? And why I did feel, in those months, that only by entering into a relationship with another man – and explore all aspects of the relationship – could I ever hope to get some replies to the many questions filling my mind?
[to be continued]
