One of my best friends came out as gay during his late teens/early 20’s, years after we’d met and become friends. His parents were devout Catholics, and he was raised Catholic. He told me a story, which I will anonymize here. I can say that this was after Vatican II. To be honest, I’ll caveat the story with the fact that my account is second-hand, and his first-hand account was told to me years after the story took place, so he may have been selective with the telling of it. Nevertheless, I grieve terribly for him, because I know what torment his sexuality has cost him. With that, here’s the story as I understand it, and ask for forgiveness if I tell it wrongly.
When my friend was in his late “tweens” or early teens, he’d been struggling mightily with the realization that while his male friends were talking about crushes on girls, he searched himself for the same interest. He’d been confused, feeling alienated from his friends and afraid of what it meant, when one Sunday he heard a homily that changed his life (and not in a good way).
Apparently, the priest presiding at that Mass had decided that he needed to talk about sexual morality to a congregation which he’d felt needed to hear it. In the pews of that Church was my friend, who heard the priest talk about the abomination of homosexuality, and that homosexuals were destined for eternal fire. I don’t know what else the priest had said, but those words created a crisis in my friend.
A boy who was a “tween” or “early teen” without the adult reasoning and moral sense needed to interpret the homily, came out of that church with the dreadful, desperate belief that God viewed him as an abomination and destined for the fires of Hell.
I can’t say what that young man went through in the following weeks, months, and years, but he never got it out of his head that he was repugnant in God’s eyes. Eventually, I think he came to the conclusion that God must hate him, so he began at first to hate God. Subsequently, he became an atheist.
I first met him years after this incident, but before he came out (or admitted his homosexuality to himself), and became his good friend. I was his friend during years when he tried to become interested in women, and when that effort failed him, when he entered a period of utter self-hatred. What brought him out of that despair wasn’t the visible Church, but family and friends who told him that we loved him no matter what. The gay community offered him acceptance, and rationale for self-esteem that for so long had escaped him.
I understand why the suicide rate of young gay men is higher – I believe – than any other demographic group. We cannot look on a statistic like that, and read James chapter 2, and be other than sympathetic, and for many, empathetic.
We can bemoan the lack of pastoral care he received, the lack of parental competence (by parents who seemed to me quite competent), or his prideful and avaricious nature (ooh, those terrible 11-13 year olds), but all of those reasons ring quite hollow to me.
My friend had been a very good, innocent little boy. Puberty hit him, and he realized he was different from his friends. He was struggling with his own inner torment, when a priest’s homily sent him down a path that led him to renounce God, hate himself, and embrace a community that offered neither God nor hate (though there are many devoutly religious gay people, that wasn’t what helped him).
In considering my friend’s story, I think of the sex abuse crisis that became public over the last few decades (it’s been with the Church since at least the second century, according to canon lawyer Thomas Doyle, OP, who deals with abuse cases). I think of the pre-Vatican II practice of recruiting prepubescent or early pubescent young men for the seminary, within which they were subjected to a stark sexual asceticism devoid of any emotional content that could address the radical developmental process that is puberty and adolescence. Psychological surveys of U.S. priests, commissioned by the U.S. bishops conference, indicate that the majority of priests in the 1970s were not well developed emotionally, and that around 8% or so were “maldeveloped” in the wording of one. If my friend was one gay young man who left the Church, what must have happened for those who joined the priesthood? (My heart goes out to them and I pray for them)
Moral theology must be informed by an understanding of human psychology. Sexuality isn’t just a moral matter, it’s an emotional and physical matter. As English philosopher Jeremy Bentham put it (in different words), “should implies can.” In other words, in order for there to be a moral imperative on a person, that person must be fully capable of carrying out that moral imperative.
Human nature is “fallen,” if we take as given the historicity of Adam and Eve and the inter-generational propagation of concupiscence that the doctrine of original sin implies (side note: the fact that “mitochondrial Eve” and “Y-chromosome Adam” lived tens of thousands of years apart suggests we need to rethink the historicity of Genesis). If we are fallen, “should” can exist without “can,” if with grace, “we can.” However, the application of this type of inferential logic to human sexuality is fraught with problems.
If there is a biological basis to homosexuality (which I would posit likely if less than totally proven), such a basis yields a very difficult tangle for Catholic moral theology. We can spend time attempting to refute every paper suggesting a biological basis to homosexuality, or we can look at them all with totally objectivity. Without saying that there is evidence of a biological basis to homosexuality, I’d like to ask the question: if should implies can (bolstered by grace), what does it mean when biology might imply “can not” or at least “can not without excruciating psychological torment?”