It seems Crisis Magazine has published another piece sparking much discussion on the web (my comments in red):
Orthophobia and the Marginalized QTBGL Catholic
As I survey the current state of the Catholic
Church, I believe I can no longer hold back. It is time for me to come out.
I am
and have for some time identified as a member of the QTBGL community, and I
need to explain why I call myself a QTBGL Catholic.
For those who may not know, “QTBGL” stands for “Quietly Totally
Believing God’s Law” and is sometimes referred to more simply as “TBGL” (just
Totally Believing God’s Law). Personally, I think the “Q” is an essential
aspect of our community, since it’s important to recognize just how quietly we
go about totally believing the fullness of truth of the Catholic faith in our
daily lives. I suppose I
am out of sync here, as I am perhaps not as quiet as I should be.
Coming
out at this moment is vitally important. Not only do I need to be utterly
honest about who I really am, but the Church needs to do a better job
ministering to the QTBGL Catholic in the pew, not to mention QTBGL clergy in
the Church, like me. We are marginalized, unjustly discriminated against, and
regularly face demeaning “orthophobia” (irrational hate for, and fear of,
right-thinking Christians) not only from fellow Catholics but even from secular
society. I would amend this to “right thinking [Catholic] Christians"….
The
level of orthophobia is getting worse, in fact. Within the Church, we are
called “haters” and “bigots” simply for accepting and affirming what the Church
actually teaches us about liturgy, justice, virtue, and, of course, the human
person and sexuality (natural law). Yes, yes,
YES Outside the Church, orthophobes everywhere are trying to curtail
our religious liberty, take away our conscience rights, and subject us to
ridicule and hate simply because of who we really are.
Yet many QTBGL Catholics really feel as though we were born this
way. Or at least baptized this way. Even in the face of such orthophobic
animosity and outright discrimination (some of us have even lost jobs after
publicly coming out as QTBGL), we know we are being true to
ourselves. We are resigned to a rather lonely life of quietly accepting each
and every truth taught to us by the Church, often at great personal cost.
You may have heard that recently a bishop was
heartlessly attacked by orthophobes for his faithful interpretation of canon
law as it applies to reception of Holy Communion and to funerals. While this
bishop has not overtly come out as a QTBGL Catholic, orthophobes everywhere
treated him that way. He was vilified horribly, even threatened.
Despite
this bishop’s brave example, however, we need to face it—QTBGL Catholics are
under attack and often feel alienated from so many other leaders of the Church
who are supposed to welcome, affirm, and accompany us with respect, compassion,
and sensitivity. Indeed.
Just think of how very few QTBGL-affirming parishes there really
are in our local dioceses. When was the last time you saw a parish intentionally advertise
something like, “At St. Fidelis Parish, ALL are really welcome—including QTBGL
Catholics. Come as you are. Who am I to judge?”
It just
doesn’t happen often enough. Sure, there may be some parishes that do what they
can to minister to members of the QTBGL community and help us feel accepted for
who we are. But more often than not, especially at the diocesan level, our
needs are largely rejected and ignored.
For example, do our Church and parish leaders really not know
the disheartening and isolating double standard that so many QTBGL Catholics
experience? Too often, our leaders devote lots of time and energy ministering
to orthophobic Catholics who reject us, offering them lavish
attention, welcome, affirmation, and acceptance. Yet, many of these same
leaders never seem to get around to teaching the orthophobic Catholics all
those truths that we QTBGL persons accept unreservedly. We certainly don’t feel
very respected in such unwelcoming parish environments.
My QTBGL community is starving for the
nourishment that can only come from our pastoral ministers. It’s like a dagger
in the hearts of marginalized QTBGL Catholics to know that we ourselves
may rarely hear the fullness of truth in our parishes. But
more than that, many of us “out” members of the QTBGL community have great
concerns that orthophobic Catholics are not hearing those truths either. I suppose this is why I wrote my book?! Often,
when we approach parish and diocesan leaders with our concerns, mostly we
are ignored outright—never hearing a word of affirmation or
comfort. I can’t tell you how many times QTBGL Catholics have phoned or written
their dioceses to ask for support when orthophobia rears its ugly head in our
local parishes and even in our schools.
When we get no response, how can such silence be construed as
respect, compassion, and sensitivity? How can it not be
construed as a form of unjust discrimination against QTBGL Catholics?
By coming out, I am hoping to contribute to a culture of
authentic “bridge building,” (nice turn
of a phrase, given Fr. Martin!) so to
speak, between the institutional Church and the QTBGL community. And, I must
say, the onus is really on the Church to take the first steps to eradicate
orthophobia in all its forms and to reassure the QTBGL Catholic that, yes, we
have just as much right to be part of the Church as even the pope does. QTBGL
Catholics have real gifts to offer. We need to be permitted
to share our God-given gifts. Particularly, our total
acceptance of the truth is a great gift to the Church. Why don’t we
hear this affirmed more in our churches?
Oddly, it’s a bit like the parable of the shepherd who goes
after the one sheep but, in a twist of the parable, takes absolutely no precautions
to meet the needs of the other 99 sheep while he is busy seeking and finding
that one lost lamb. What shepherd, while seeking the one lost ewe, leaves 99
without food, water, protection, and guidance? What shepherd, after finding the
lost sheep, brings it back and spends a huge amount of time caring
for it while ignoring the requests and needs of the other 99? Such a shepherd
might say to that one lost sheep, “You know, it’s okay if you still want to
identify as a ‘lost sheep’; I don’t want to make you feel unwelcome or judged
just because you have no real interest in thinking of yourself as ‘found’ like
these other 99.”
In the
fractured parable I’ve penned, when the 99 see how little value the shepherd
seems to place on staying “found,” they might feel a bit underappreciated. Here the author should read Catholic exegesis (JP II, B16) on
this parable….
With
these things in mind, my coming out as a QTBGL Catholic will also help combat
the “erasure” our community has experienced for too long. We exist. We are out.
We’re in every parish, every pew. QTBGL pride should be proclaimed in every
parish community.
I can’t
begin to say what a relief it is to finally come out and embrace my QTBGL
identity.
Just one more thing—maybe we could come up with a
QTBGL-pride flag to inspire us. I mean, I think we have a real
shot at eradicating orthophobia, even in my lifetime. But we will need the
cooperation of all Catholics, and all Catholic leaders. Until then, those who
do make the brave choice to minister to QTBGL Catholics and our families will
likely face hate, persecution, discrimination, and outright rejection.
Even so, I’ve heard from those ministering to the QTBGL
community that all the hateful comments they endure from orthophobic Catholics
seem like nothing after meeting just one QTBGL person or
parent who says “thank you.”
And
so—as a newly out QTBGL Catholic, on behalf of our community, I say to all who
choose to minister to our pastoral needs:
Thank
you.
Editor’s note: Pictured above is a detail from “Holy C0mmunion”
painted by Ariel Agemian.
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