My husband's latest blog post concludes with, "I am Catholic and I am queer. I wish it didn't hurt to say both together." I'd like to add my perspective:
It occurred to me that I say "I am Catholic and I am queer" with no pain.
Not to invalidate the pain of people who do continue to struggle. Not to say I haven't felt this pain in the past. But I would like to offer hope to (for lack of a better umbrella term) queer folk that the people we're attracted to don't wreck us for communion with God and Eir people. (Bear with the Spivak pronoun for God, there, and if it's not clicking/you want to know more about Spivak...worth a Google.)
All I'm trying to offer here is my limited experience, not in a normative sense: I've been attracted to people regardless of gender for as long as I can remember; I didn't realize the implications until well later in life. I used to play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles/Magic Nursery Babies with my best friend in first grade. I did grow up in a dysfunctional home and submitted to an abusive (hetero) romantic relationship for three years, after which I wanted nothing more to do with men as life partners, until I met Jon, who (as stated in his blog (and yes, he is fine with male pronouns)), doesn't really identify as male anyway. We hit it off instantly and rocked a platonic relationship for a good two years before leveling up.
I do acknowledge and embrace my female body as an aspect of the being God has given me, and I consider it a crucial part of my work and witness to develop and share the interests and strengths I also believe are part of the gift, including aspects that are non-gender-conforming, such as my love of power tools and football. I have yet to hear anybody claim a woman shouldn't be into such things, and for that I'm thankful, and yet people often express surprise when my husband isn't the one in charge of shoveling snow, mowing the lawn, and maintaining the house. I often ponder what exactly would be the definition of God-ordained femininity in any meaningful, universal sense, and have yet to come to any conclusions.
We still desperately need to clarify that cultural expectations of masculinity and femininity are not necessarily God’s, and to the extent I can offer my non-gender-conforming skills to the building up of the Kingdom, I hope to be a witness to what faithful, queer femininity can look like.
Part of the challenge, whether queer or not, is discerning which parts of us are God-ordained and which are not. I pray for the humility to never be so attached to any construct I have of my identity that I wouldn't surrender it to God. I have repented of and am at peace with whatever it is in me that's attracted me to disordered relationships (yeah, I used that word) of any kind, and am thankful that by God's grace I am not a slave to my desires. I also take comfort in St. Joan of Arc's shocking non-gender-conformity, having been quite torn between her and St. Hildegard for my confirmation patron saint.
I used to get a real chip on my shoulder when messages would come from the pulpit or elsewhere undermining the dignity due queer folk as children of God. In the course of entering into full communion with the Catholic Church, God penetrated my heart deeper than ever before a knowledge of my true identity in Em, which puts me now in a position to be pissed not over what I would perceive to be a compromise of my own worth, but rather, for the sake of people who may have put themselves in a vulnerable place even setting foot in a Catholic church, only to hear a message that could put them in such a defensive position as to miss the Goodness, Truth, and Beauty that Christ has to offer them, for the transformation of all our brokenness, both perceived and hidden.
It occurred to me that I say "I am Catholic and I am queer" with no pain.
Not to invalidate the pain of people who do continue to struggle. Not to say I haven't felt this pain in the past. But I would like to offer hope to (for lack of a better umbrella term) queer folk that the people we're attracted to don't wreck us for communion with God and Eir people. (Bear with the Spivak pronoun for God, there, and if it's not clicking/you want to know more about Spivak...worth a Google.)
All I'm trying to offer here is my limited experience, not in a normative sense: I've been attracted to people regardless of gender for as long as I can remember; I didn't realize the implications until well later in life. I used to play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles/Magic Nursery Babies with my best friend in first grade. I did grow up in a dysfunctional home and submitted to an abusive (hetero) romantic relationship for three years, after which I wanted nothing more to do with men as life partners, until I met Jon, who (as stated in his blog (and yes, he is fine with male pronouns)), doesn't really identify as male anyway. We hit it off instantly and rocked a platonic relationship for a good two years before leveling up.
I do acknowledge and embrace my female body as an aspect of the being God has given me, and I consider it a crucial part of my work and witness to develop and share the interests and strengths I also believe are part of the gift, including aspects that are non-gender-conforming, such as my love of power tools and football. I have yet to hear anybody claim a woman shouldn't be into such things, and for that I'm thankful, and yet people often express surprise when my husband isn't the one in charge of shoveling snow, mowing the lawn, and maintaining the house. I often ponder what exactly would be the definition of God-ordained femininity in any meaningful, universal sense, and have yet to come to any conclusions.
We still desperately need to clarify that cultural expectations of masculinity and femininity are not necessarily God’s, and to the extent I can offer my non-gender-conforming skills to the building up of the Kingdom, I hope to be a witness to what faithful, queer femininity can look like.
Part of the challenge, whether queer or not, is discerning which parts of us are God-ordained and which are not. I pray for the humility to never be so attached to any construct I have of my identity that I wouldn't surrender it to God. I have repented of and am at peace with whatever it is in me that's attracted me to disordered relationships (yeah, I used that word) of any kind, and am thankful that by God's grace I am not a slave to my desires. I also take comfort in St. Joan of Arc's shocking non-gender-conformity, having been quite torn between her and St. Hildegard for my confirmation patron saint.
I used to get a real chip on my shoulder when messages would come from the pulpit or elsewhere undermining the dignity due queer folk as children of God. In the course of entering into full communion with the Catholic Church, God penetrated my heart deeper than ever before a knowledge of my true identity in Em, which puts me now in a position to be pissed not over what I would perceive to be a compromise of my own worth, but rather, for the sake of people who may have put themselves in a vulnerable place even setting foot in a Catholic church, only to hear a message that could put them in such a defensive position as to miss the Goodness, Truth, and Beauty that Christ has to offer them, for the transformation of all our brokenness, both perceived and hidden.
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