The struggle between faith and religion

A significant portion of this blog is about my journey coming out of decades of homophobia - much of it instilled by the institutional church. So it's not surprising that I find myself struggling between "finding faith" and "losing my religion." For gay people of faith, it's an ongoing journey of conflict and resolution. For me, sites like GayChristian.net and the online magazine Whosoever have been real blessings to me.

In a recent post, my straight-and-accepting blogging sister, Penni at martha, martha, sounded like she was going through a similar challenge. While her "coming out" and mine are vastly different, they are also amazingly similar. And my first thought was, "Ah, dear sister, welcome to the party...."

The thing that the commenters on her post make very clear is that "losing my religion" (in one way or another) is part of the Catholic journey. (It's not exclusively Catholic - not at all. But more on that later on...)

I know that Henri Nouwen - a spiritual brother of mine - struggled with the Church's teaching on the Eucharist. When he taught at Yale he celebrated open Eucharist in the chapel basement every day. In one of the better Nouwen biographies, Wounded Prophet, the author describes how Nouwen struggled repeatedly with this issue...and, in the end, chose to walk his own path. He lived consistent with his calling, and within the greater community of the Church, while annoying many a bishop over his lifetime.

I don't want to seem like a single-issue guy, or that all religion needs to be seen through this topic, but the issue of gay priests in the Catholic communities is a big deal where I was from, up until recently.

I lived in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago, which contained five seminaries within walking distance of each other, including the Catholic Theological Union (CTU) and about 2 dozen Catholic religious residences. Living in Lutheran seminary housing, my front window looked across the street at an Augustinian friary (I think that's the word for it), and we were just down the street from one of the larger Catholic congregations in the city. In short, you could hardly throw a rock and not hit a Catholic religious community member, at least on the second bounce.

And there were (and are) a lot of gay and lesbian Catholic religious folk in the area. Not just a few; a lot. After all, if your faith calls you to be celibate because of your sexuality, and your heart calls you to service to God, what better synergy, eh?

Every one of them have been struggling, evoking in some way the prayer first written by Martin Luther, and given voice by The Clash:

Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double
So come on and let me know
Should I stay or should I go?

A very dear friend, and one of my "coming-out mentors," coordinated the RCIA rite for the parish served by CTU. His partner is a former Carmelite priest. You might find Tom's words interesting, even if they might deepen your struggle.

But this struggle between participating in "the church" and being authentic to one's faith and one's conscience is part of the wider Christian journey, too. My former ministry professor, Dr. Tex Sample, co-edited The Loyal Opposition: Struggling With The Church on Homosexuality. While he has held pro-gay beliefs all his life, he has been more vocal in the last several years, and it has cost him - in church consultations and speaking engagements, in friendships, in outright attacks on his worth as a Methodist minister. But he, and the many authors compiled in this volume, believe that there is a place for active resistance to the doctrines of the church, expressed out of love for the church.

For what it's worth, too, there is a distinctly Protestant concept known as adiaphora - things which are not central to one's core beliefs. For instance, the Lutheran seminary and the Presybterian seminary in Chicago shared facilities, worship space, and staff. They could do this because their respective ruling bodies affirmed that the ways in which the two groups agreed were deep and abiding, while our differences were on things which we did not hold to be at the core of our belief.

At my late stage in life, I find that every person whose faith goes beyond "Yes, Jesus loves me/the Bible tells me so" ends up having these struggles. I believe these struggles are at the heart of much of the emerging church activity - seeking relevance and authenticity while preserving (or building) community.

A good friend, Michael Housholder, pointed out that while the local church is frequently sinful, broken and both wounded and wounding, it is also the single best opportunity to be an instrument of God's grace in a given community. Even though I'm not a part of a church community right now, I want to be - and once I get moved, I hope to be. Because I miss the community, and I really think my friend Mike is right.

Forgive the (not-so-mini) mini-sermon, Penni. Know that you are not alone, and that "should I stay or should I go?" are just the two opposite extremes of a wide and rich rainbow of faithful participation and faithful resistance.

God's loving presence will continue to surround you, and your faith will uplift you, regardless how your relationship to "the religion" ends up. I believe that for you - because I believe it for me.

And my prayers will be rising up for you.