In the Garden of Spirituality: Joan Timmerman

The Wild Reed’s series of reflections on spirituality continues with an excerpt from theologian Joan Timmerman’s book Sexuality and Spiritual Growth.

I had the honor of experiencing Joan (pronounced Joanne) Timmerman as one of my professors at the College of St. Catherine in St. Paul, where I studied in the Masters of Theology program from 1994-1996. In my final year, Joan served as my adviser in the writing of my thesis - one that explored the coming out process of gay men as a spiritual journey.

When people ask me what type of theology I specialize in, I reply, “sacramental.” I have Joan to thank for this, as she was the first to provide me with the words, the theological terminology, I’d long desired to put to certain experiences of my journey as a gay Catholic man. As you’ll see from the following excerpt from Joan Timmerman’s 1992 book, Sexuality and Spiritual Growth, these missing words were the words of sacramental theology.

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“All Nature is Graced”
Excerpts from Sexuality and Spiritual Growth by Joan Timmerman
Crossroads, New York, 1992

Basic to all religious insight, certainly not just Catholic sacramental theology, is the recognition of the spiritual dimension in all human experience. In this sense the sacramental principle is the most ecumenical idea around.

. . . Generally speaking, when the term “sacrament” is used, the reference is to the ritual acts of the institutional churches, whether the definition is that of the Council of Trent, as outward sign, instituted by Christ, to give grace, or that more common after Vatican II: the official action of the people of God which mediates an encounter with God in Christ. In either formulation the focus is on the ceremony or the “religious” action. By sacramentality I describe rather the truth which is the condition for the possibility of the effectiveness of the ceremony; that is, the Mystery of God is present and accessible through the Spirit who, as the Immanence of God, permeates all things.

The coinherence of God in matter and history precedes all communication about this presence and human modes of perceiving it. This broader way of understanding sacramentality is also the earlier one. The Western church narrowed the understanding of sacrament to the church and its functions after the twelfth century separation from Eastern traditions in which “sacrament” can apply appropriately to any manifestation of God in human life.

Vatican II in Gaudium et Spes broadened the scholastic concept of sacrament by referring to the church as Sacrament. This was particularly significant in the light of the fact that for this document the preferred content of the term “church” was people of God, a return to the early Christian insight that the Mystical Body was the Ecclesial Body. That does not mean to say that there is an eighth sacrament, in addition to the official seven. It means that in this broader sense the term sacrament should not be used in the plural at all. The many rituals are performances of the one sacrament in specific contexts of human need.

By using the term sacrament in this theological sense, we recover it in its original use in patristic theology, where sacramentum is the Latin word used to translate the Greek mysterion. The early structure of the church is sacramental, the Western church would say; in the language of the Eastern church, it is “mystical,” that is, it carries the Mystery of God’s presence and action into the temporal dimension.

This does not mean that it is something abstruse or impossible to understand; it means rather that a hidden-from-the-senses transcendent divine reality reveals itself in a visible way. It is the people who are “mystical.” The natural action or element is capable of such disclosure of the divine to the extent that it is “open,” that is, to the extent that it is ecstatic, free, not closed in upon itself.

Christian understanding of spiritual formation is incarnational. That means that freedom, ecstasy, openness are performed in the flesh, not by escaping from it. By God’s entry into human being, all being, history and nature, is potentially transformed. All reality becomes mediator of Mystery, thus sacramental, to those who can see. All nature is graced.

. . . The sacramental view of reality is an inclusive view; it includes the Mystery of God as manifested in “natural,” that is, sensuously experienced reality. Moreover, a sacramental view recognizes the presence of God mediated not only through the Body (of the Church), but through the body (of the human being); that is, it is communal without thereby relinquishing its personal, intimate, physical locus.

. . . The scandal of the incarnation . . . is also the “scandal” of sexuality as a path for spiritual growth. For such ideas to take hold, the dualistic mentality has to be let go. Actually, a proper theological understanding of sacramentality relates the polarities, without suppressing the tension between them. It affirms that God’s presence is not invented by mental gymnastics but is really real: Christ’s divinity in humanity is its warrant. Through the Spirit the Incarnation is extended and is in reality present among us.

That presence does not communicate itself automatically because like all personal interaction, it has no objective existence; it has intersubjective existence. Like a kiss it does not exist objectively, waiting in a room to be automatically dispensed when people enter. It is a form of self-gift, of presence, depending for its efficacy not just on the action of the giver but also on the receiver. It is, in Rilke’s words, a “transformation of the visible world outside us into an invisible world within.” So it would be false, because affirming more than the truth can bear, to say that God is “present” in sexual life. If the sacramental understanding is absent or misrepresented, God’s gracious self-giving will not be found to be present.

. . . A sacramental view of sexuality requires the reflective inclusion of the spiritual dimension already there; a sacramental theology requires the inclusion of sexuality. The sacramental potential of sexuality does not mean that it is to be taken out of this world into some kind of specially “religious” cult. Karl Rahner perceived the sacramental event, not as a movement from church to world “saving it,” but a movement of the spirit leading from the world, that is, from the innermost personal center of those who are its thinking subjects, carrying normal human secular life to its fulfillment in God.

Put more practically in regard to sexuality, this means that the dynamism of sexuality itself reveals the holiness of human beings and the world in its very secularity.

A Peanuts cartoon strip (by Charles Schultz) shows Linus at the piano. As he plays, the notes of music flow; Snoopy, lying on the doghouse, perceives not notes but dogbones. That is sacramentality. God’s self-expression is rendered in our dimension in a mode that we can appreciate . . . as the desire of our hearts, whatever form it may take.

Excerpted from Sexuality and Spiritual Growth by Joan Timmerman (Crossroads, New York, 1992).


See also the related Wild Reed post: In the Footsteps of Spring


Image: “Ellenborough Fern” by Michael J. Bayly.

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
In the Garden of Spirituality: Zainab Salbi
In the Garden of Spirituality: Daniel Helminiak
In the Garden of Spirituality: Rod Cameron
In the Garden of Spirituality: Paul Collins
In the Garden of Spirituality: Joan Chittister
In the Garden of Spirituality: Toby Johnson
The Sexuality of Jesus
“Receive What You Are, the Body of Christ”
Keeping the Spark Alive
Sons of the Church: The Witnessing of Gay Catholic Men – A Discussion Guide
Celebrating Our Sanctifying Truth
Soul Deep

Equality Riders Experience the “Great Dissonance at the Intersection of Catholic Beliefs”

The 2007 Soulforce Equality Ride left Minneapolis yesterday for a two month-long journey – one which will see fifty young lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) adults traveling across the nation, visiting and seeking dialogue with administrators and students at Christian colleges that discriminate against LGBT students.

“More than 200 schools have policies that outright ban homosexual behavior, advocacy, or practice,” says Equality Ride co-director Haven Herrin. “Each ultimately leads to marginalizing and silencing of LGBT people.”

Drawing inspiration from the Freedom Rides of the Civil Rights era, the Equality Ride used a single bus and visited 19 colleges last year. Equality Ride co-directors Jake Reitan and Haven Herrin also made the cover of the national LGBT magazine, The Advocate.


This year, the group has charted two buses – one heading east, the other west – and will call in on 32 colleges before returning to Minneapolis at the end of April.

In the March 2 issue of Lavender, “Minnesota’s GLBT magazine,” Equality Ride co-director Haven Herrin shared her thoughts on her upcoming visit to Notre Dame, the “renowned bastion of Catholicism.”

She notes that this particular school is “more nuanced than most,” and that “the university is not so bold as to put an anti-gay policy on the books.” Yet Haven argues that Notre Dame does not have to, owing to the fact that the Catholic Church is explicit in its teaching that the sexual orientation of LGBT persons is “ordered to an intrinsic moral evil.”

Following are excerpts from Haven’s commentary – one in which she not only discusses the situation at Notre Dame, but a number of other “confusing disconnects birthed by the interplay of Catholic Church doctrine and issues of state.”

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With its symbolic weight, Notre Dame is necessarily part of a much larger conversation regarding faith and homosexuality.

Notre Dame is in a tough spot. It has no LGBT anti-discrimination policy; refuses to recognize a gay straight alliance (GSA), even while it sanctions Jewish and Muslim student groups; wears the crown, courtesy of The Princeton Review, for being the least gay-friendly school in the nation; and shares in the gravitas of the Catholic Church’s leadership in social justice on some issues.

Yet Notre Dame puts forth a Spirit of Inclusion statement that includes lines like: “We prize the uniqueness of all persons as God’s creatures. . . . We value gay and lesbian members of this community as we value all members of this community.”

It is a politically and intellectually difficult line to walk: Go on record, but not too loudly; welcome difference, but do not accept too wholeheartedly.

I ache for this Cirque du Soleil of Catholic theology – so much twisted reasoning.

Now, try and reconcile this: Notre Dame refuses to allow Equality Ride on campus, but its sister school – Catholic St. Mary’s that sits directly across the street – invited us for dialogue.

What role does prominence play? One naturally wonders why some schools embrace the riders, and some schools slam their doors.

All this occurs on the same field as other confusing disconnects birthed by the interplay of Catholic Church doctrine and issues of state.

In December, a Polish lawmaker proposed a bill that would have made Jesus Christ the honorary King of Poland. But the Roman Catholic Church killed the issue, telling the state to stay out of religious affairs – this is a country that is 95 percent Catholic.

In July 2005, Spain, 94 percent Catholic, legalized same-sex marriage. Two-thirds of Spaniards approved of the law, but Catholic authorities spoke out against it.

Mexico City, the largest city within a 95 percent Catholic Mexico, enacted its own civil union bill in November. It passed handily in the city assembly. Even though the Catholic Church had spoken strongly against similar measures in the past, it was mum on this vote.

Already this year in Italy, a civil union measure was backed by Prime Minister Romano Prodi, and approved by his Cabinet. It now makes its way through the lower house. Pope Benedict XVI calls the bill “subversive.” But prominent Catholic leaders are telling the Vatican to stay out of politics. And 80 percent of Italians support the legislation, in a country where 97 percent of the population is Catholic.

The stakes of this conversation are high. The Pope and other religious leaders – including those of the Anglican Communion, the Latter Day Saints (Mormon), and the Southern Baptists – have set up the “homosexual question” as the litmus test of true faith for our time. High tension reveals rifts in principle and action.

How are Catholics, among others, holding it together? Right now, great dissonance is at the intersection of Catholic beliefs among the population, Catholic policies from the top, and aggregate actions, as citizens wade through the democratic process of reconciling law, religion, and social justice.

The Equality Ride is embroiled in a microcosm of the larger conundrum that arises when three things collide:

1) The recognition of the essential humanity and suffering of a minority group.

2) The resistance to change within the arc of progress from oppression to inclusion.

3) The inexorable and dynamic forward march of faith and application of grace, despite having a figurehead that would not permit personal revelation.

Change frightens fundamentalists. But if they looked closely with a conceptual eye, they could see the stuff that matters – the eternal truths, the universal values – is not going anywhere.

Until we earnestly begin practicing the underlying principles and get beyond literalism, we will remain mired in these tortured acrobatics.

Haven Herrin
Lavender
March 2-15, 2007


To learn more about and/or support the 2007 Soulforce Equality Ride, click here.


Above: Soulforce Equality Ride founder and co-director Jake Reitan, pictured with his parents Randi and Phil – both of whom are dedicated activists for LGBT rights.


Above: Pictured with Soulforce co-directors Jacob Reitan (left) and Haven Herrin (center) are Rev. Donald Samuels, Minneapolis City Council Member and ordained Baptist minister; Brian Mogren, organizer of last year’s send-off for the Equality Riders; and Michael Bayly, executive coordinator of the Catholic Pastoral Committee on Sexual Minorities (CPCSM).

Both of the above images were taken by David McCaffrey, co-founder and vice-president of CPCSM, at last year’s send-off event for the Soulforce Equality Ride.

Pan’s Labyrinth: Critiquing the Cult of Unquestioning Obedience

Conservatives and reactionaries of various stripes have been quick to dismiss and condemn Mexican director Guillermo del Toro’s film Pan’s Labyrinth (El Laberinto del Fauno) as “leftist political fantasy.”

Yet perhaps what is pissing them off most about the film has been left unsaid: its critique of unquestioning obedience.

I’d be the first to admit that I have a hard time with violence in films. And Pan’s Labyrinth has a number of disturbingly violent scenes. Yet unlike, say, the average Mel Gibson film, including The Passion of the Christ, the scenes of violence in Pan’s Labyrinth are not gratuitously unending. Rather, they’re brief and serve a purpose; namely, to illustrate the cruel and violent nature of the film’s Captain Vidal and, by extension, the fascist regime of Spain’s General Francisco Franco.

Pan’s Labyrinth opens in 1944. The fascists, under Franco, have largely won the Spanish Civil War, though resistance remains. In a recent interview, the film’s director, Guillermo del Toro, observes that, “Most people think that the Civil War ended in 1939, but in reality the leader of the [rebel] group that was called the Maquis, was executed . . . in the 1960s. The resistance in Spain was very brave, and it held from 1939 into the [time of the film] because they were hoping that the Allies would turn around and help them after World War II. The resistance in Spain was actively involved in, for example, sabotaging the shipping of tungsten from the mines in Galicia to Germany to build the Panzer tanks. So they were really actively fighting the Nazis, and they were evidently rewarded with absolute indifference after the war.”

By 1944 the fascists had claimed victory, and, in the opening sequences of Pan’s Labyrinth, two spoils of this victory – the beautiful and delicate Carmen (Ariadna Gil) and her young daughter Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) – are being brought to Navarra in the north of Spain where Captain Vidal (Sergi Lopez) and his men have set up base in a rambling old house. It is from here that the captain is determined to rout out from the surrounding hills the remaining rebel forces.


Carmen is the captain’s new wife. She is also heavily pregnant with their child. Ofelia is Carmen’s daughter from a previous marriage. Though her mother implores her to call Captain Vidal “father,” Ofelia remains loyal to her real father who worked as a tailor before his death.

Vidal is using Carmen. Her sole purpose seems to be to provide a son for him. Ignoring the advise of Doctor Ferreiro (Alex Angulo), Vidal has had Carmen brought via a rough forest track to his isolated and potentially dangerous outpost on the edge of rebel territory. Once at Navarra, Carmen’s health takes a turn for the worse. “If there is a choice,” Vidal tells Doctor Ferreiro, “save the baby.” Not surprisingly, Vidal has little if any patience or concern for Ofelia.


Paul Bond notes that, “Vidal . . . a stickler for punctuality and military formality, wants his son to be born in Franco’s ‘new Spain’ – which he will create by brute force if necessary. ‘The war is over and we won,’ he says, and he is determined to kill all resisters to prove it. . . . [His] sadistic repression is brought out in some terrible and violent sequences, such as [his] beating a poacher to death with a bottle.”

Soon after her arrival to the violent and sadistic environment of her step-father, Ofelia finds herself caught up in a fantasy world – centered on a vast and crumbling labyrinth in which a faun tells her that she is the long lost princess of another realm, a realm free of lies and violence. In order to return to her rightful home and family, Ofelia must complete a number of tasks outlined by the faun.

That these tasks, along with the frightening creatures she encounters while completing them, mirror the events unfolding in the world beyond the labyrinth, suggest that Ofelia’s adventures are her way of attempting to process and make sense of the brutality and insanity in the “real world” – a state of affairs which her innocent and childlike spirit simply cannot comprehend.



Spain’s brutal reality

Yet as Paul Bond points out: “Because every twist and development of Ofelia’s fantasy world is intimately bound up with and shaped by her experiences, she can never escape life’s horrors. Her fantasy world begins to mirror Spain’s brutal reality. The characters she has created such as the Faun, played by Doug Jones, become ever more sinister. Ofelia confronts monsters, but is unable to triumph over them unequivocally. Reflecting her feelings of impotence, her fantasy tasks are dangerously beyond her. In the hall of the pale man, a chillingly vile Jones again, she barely escapes with her life. And eventually the two worlds meet.”

Before this fateful meeting, the two worlds, says critic David D’Arcy, are rendered thus: “the angular, upright realm of domination, and the dark, curved sanctuaries of the spirit.”

D’Arcy also asks us to “bear in mind that the Spanish Civil War was the war the Fascists won, in spite of lingering resistance that continued for years. It inspired Guernica, Picasso’s huge painting of a nightmarish bombing of a Basque town. This was war against civilians, in which entire cities were bombed.”


“It was also the first modern media war,” continues D’Arcy, “with aerial newsreel footage of battles that were proving grounds for new weapons, post-mortem photographs of dead babies on the covers of newspapers and global fundraising campaigns promoted on posters that were surreal collages.”

Del Toro’s film clearly seeks in many ways to reflect the grotesque style of Picasso. Yet in an interview with D’Arcy, del Toro also notes that he was inspired by Symbolist paintings of the late 19th century.

The film is also dedicated to the act of remembering, of not forgetting the past. This is especially significant given the fact that there remains – even in today’s socialist Spain – elements that seek to gloss over certain aspects of the country’s fascist history.

Says Bond in his review of Pan’s Labyrinth for the World Socialist Website, “Every detail here is aimed at historical memory, from Ofelia’s refusal to forget her real father to comments about Vidal’s father serving in Morocco, the scene of some of the Spanish military’s worst atrocities.”


An “unfair swipe” at the Catholic Church?

Of course, such insights and connections are lost on the many conservative American commentators and reviewers – some of whom not only dismiss the film as “socialist propaganda,” and “leftist political fantasy,” but even imply that Franco was some kind of Catholic conqueror of Communism. Not surprisingly, these and other conservative-leaning pundits, such as Catholic film critic Barbara Nicolosi, are miffed at what they see as del Toro’s “unfair swipe at the Church.”

Unfair? It’s a historical fact that powerful elements within the Catholic Church supported Franco’s fascist regime. As Bond observes, “del Toro’s apparently sincere use of redemptive imagery stands in stark contrast to the actual role of the Catholic Church in Spain. But he does indicate this with the presence of the priest at Vidal’s dinner, offering ecumenical support for the fascist persecution of the resistance.” It must also be noted that the Church benefited handsomely from this “support.”


As the Library of Congress notes: “Roman Catholicism [during the Franco years] was the only religion to have legal status; other worship services could not be advertised, and only the Roman Catholic Church could own property or publish books. The government not only continued to pay priests’ salaries and to subsidize the church, but it also assisted in the reconstruction of church buildings damaged by the war. Laws were passed abolishing divorce and banning the sale of contraceptives. Catholic religious instruction was mandatory, even in public schools. Franco secured in return the right to name Roman Catholic bishops in Spain, as well as veto power over appointments of clergy down to the parish priest level. In 1953 this close cooperation was formalized in a new Concordat with the Vatican that granted the church an extraordinary set of privileges: mandatory canonical marriages for all Catholics; exemption from government taxation; subsidies for new building construction; censorship of materials the church deemed offensive; the right to establish universities, to operate radio stations, and to publish newspapers and magazines; protection from police intrusion into church properties; and exemption of clergy from military service.”

“The proclamation of the Second Vatican Council in favor of the separation of church and state in 1965,” the Library of Congress documents, “forced the reassessment of this special relationship. In the late 1960s, the Vatican attempted to reform the church in Spain by appointing liberals as interim, or acting, bishops, thereby circumventing Franco’s stranglehold on the country’s clergy. In 1966 the Franco regime passed a law that freed other religions from many of the earlier restrictions, although it also reaffirmed the privileges of the Catholic Church. Any attempt to revise the 1953 Concordat met the dictator’s rigid resistance.”

Clearly, del Toro’s rather mild “swipe” at the Catholic Church isn’t “unfair” in the least.


The cult of unquestioning obedience

But, to my mind, it’s not del Toro’s “swipe” at the Church’s support of Franco’s fascist regime that sticks in conservatives’ collective craw. No, I think it’s del Toro’s denouncement of something much more fundamental to reactionary ideology – the cult of unquestioning obedience.

Pan’s Labyrinth makes it clear that Captain Vidal’s acts of arrogant disdain and savage brutality against those who, for whatever reason, don’t fit into his fascist worldview, stem from his profound lack of the creativity and compassion required so as to formulate and ask questions within (and of) a world dominated by fear and violence.

The humane and compassionate actions of Doctor Ferreiro and the housekeeper Mercedes (Maribel Verdu), on the other hand, both of whom are secretly aiding the rebels, are possible, says the film, as a result of their willingness to envision a world beyond Captain Vidal’s fascist fantasy. Their actions are also only possible as a result of their disobedience of Captain Vidal’s orders.


Likewise, Ofelia’s disobedience of the faun’s demand that she hand over her infant brother, proves to be a deeply significant act of courage and integrity. Such acts are beyond the comprehension of her step-father and the world of fascist mythology he seeks to both build and embody.

As Paul Bond observes, “Vidal, bristling with machismo, fails to notice that . . . Mercedes is spying for the resistance. She was invisible to him because she was a woman, she says when finally discovered. Vidal is similarly uncomprehending when he discovers that Dr. Ferreiro has not simply obeyed his orders.”

Highly authoritarian structures – including religious institutions or, at the very least, the reactionary aspects of any given religious tradition – rely on obedience to maintain their sense of authority and control. In Catholicism, for example, unquestioning obedience to the Church is highly valued. Indeed, advancement up the hierarchical chain of command is contingent on unquestioning obedience. Of course, by “Church,” those who champion such obedience are not referring to the Mystical Body of Christ, which, in the egalitarian spirit of Jesus, means all of us.

Rather, Catholic proponents of unquestioning obedience, when referring to “the Church,” generally mean the Vatican, or more precisely, the institutional component of the Church (comprised chiefly of the curia and magisterium) which rose to prominence in the late nineteenth century at a time when many of its members were fearing and denouncing the democratic spirit sweeping across Europe and threatening their own imperial power and influence. As with a number of issues, the Vatican was on the wrong side of history at that particular time. As a result, it’s now, for all intents and purposes, the last remaining absolute monarchy in Europe and, as such, an often irrelevant and embarrassing bastion of reactionary thought and activism.

Understandably, Catholic proponents of unquestioning obedience view “the Church” as, in the words of Catholic columnist and author Chris McGillion, “a kind of club with an inflexible set of rules, to which all its members must subscribe. Those who don’t . . . are made to feel unwelcome; those who question the rules are asked to leave or forced to go.” Such punishment is warranted as for Catholic members of the cult of unquestioning obedience, public dissent from Church teaching is the greatest of sins. Not surprisingly, such Catholics are highly prone to minimizing and distorting the role of conscience.

Yet important questions need to be asked: Does this “kind of club”-understanding of Church reflect the example of community modeled by Jesus?

Is it the only way to view and understand the reality of Church? Is it even an appropriate way to understand Church?

What are other ways present in our Catholic tradition and experience?

Are some of these more equipped than others to emulate Jesus and thus invite and encourage people to flourish, both individually and communally?

As a gay man within the Catholic Church – a Church I view and experience as being much broader and progressive than simply “the Vatican” – I’ve crossed paths with some Catholics who define themselves in terms of this “club with an inflexible set of rules”-understanding of Catholicism, one focused on the Vatican and unquestioning obedience to it.

Am I saying that obedience has no place in our Catholic faith? Of course not. Nevertheless, I think a way of understanding obedience that is conducive to both individual and communal flourishing is sorely needed. One such understanding has been offered by theologian Diarmuid O’Murchu, who, in his book Poverty, Celibacy, and Obedience: A Radical Option for Life, notes that, “Obedience is not about submitting our will to a higher authority (why then did God give us a will in the first place?) but about exploring and proffering ever new ways to engage responsibly, collaboratively, and creatively with the issues of power and powerlessness that we encounter in daily life. . . . At the end of the day it is not laws but values that touch the depth of our human hearts.”

I’m also not suggesting that there isn’t a place for an institutional component within Catholicism. Yet at the same time, many of us who declare ourselves Catholic don’t recognize the clerical/hierarchical culture of the institutional Church as being an essential component of the Catholic faith.

As I’ve stated in a previous post, I believe we require an institutional church, but it’s not essential that this institution be rigidly hierarchical or dominated by clerics. In fact, many Catholics intuitively sense that such a clerical/hierarchical structure and culture is detrimental to the spirit of the Gospel message. Jesus certainly didn’t model such a structure or culture.

With regards to issues of human sexuality, the clerical/hierarchical culture simply does not reflect for many people – gay or straight – the liberating, life-giving spirit of the Gospel. This doesn’t mean I’m advocating a big sexual free-for-all. I just think that as Catholics, we can do better at recognizing and articulating a sexual theology and ethic that actually reflects people’s experience of God in their relational/sexual lives; a theology that actually cares for and thus listens to people’s real lives in the real world – a world permeated by the sacred.


Spiritual violence

I’ve discovered, however, that there are some gay Catholics (or rather “same-sex attracted” Catholics) who, for whatever reason, can’t or won’t see every aspect of the world – including their God-given sexual orientation and its expression – as infused with God’s loving and transforming presence.

Instead, they rigidly hold to the belief that any sexual orientation other than heterosexual is “ordered to an intrinsic moral evil.” Never mind that countless lesbian and gay Catholic individuals experience God in their loving (and sexually-expressed) relationships with another of the same gender. Such realities are simply not acknowledged, let alone embraced and celebrated.

Now, I’m not for one moment liking Catholics who embrace such a narrow and rigid perspective on homosexuality to the fascists depicted in del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth. However, there are ways other than physical by which one can inflict violence on another; and, without doubt, the language currently employed by the Vatican to describe homosexual orientation and the lives and relationship of gay people who, in good conscience, cannot subscribe to such a simplistic description, is spiritually violent and abusive.

And then of course there’s the Vatican’s complicity in the deaths of gay people throughout history – a complicity that some would like to gloss over, not unlike those who would like to gloss over and forget the fascist atrocities in Franco’s Spain. Yet as Joseph O’Leary, among others, powerfully reminds us: “When the Vatican formulated its official apology for the Inquisition [in 1998], the multitudes burnt as heretics and witches were duly remembered. But no mention was made of the thousands of gay people burnt directly by the Papal States down to 1750 and executed in other states with papal approval.”

“‘Sodomites’ were demonized in exactly the same style as ‘witches’ were,” says O’Leary, “and treated with equal brutality. Sixteenth century missionaries had sodomites burnt in the Philippines at the same time as they were having Jews burnt in India. But there is no evidence that this weighs on the Vatican's conscience.”

Barbara Nicolosi bemoans the fact that half of Pan’s Labyrinth is “dripping with brutal realistic violence . . . blood, blood, blood . . . torture, murder, abuse.” Perhaps she should acquaint herself with the history of our own Catholic Church and its treatment of, among others, gay people. Then again, perhaps the bucketfuls of blood spilt in The Passion of the Christ are the only blood she considers worthy of lamenting.

After all, this is a woman who, while noting that “Christians in entertainment . . . should be talking about everything in a godly way,” nevertheless employs the following language to talk about gay men.

“[We’re] getting drowned in heralds for the sodomites-in-saddles fantasy, Brokeback Mountain.”

“I can’t really recommend [Brokeback Mountain]. It isn’t good enough to justify getting the images in your head of men doing their twisted enemas-as-act-of-love thing.”

I guess gay people can be excluded from being talked about in a “godly way.”


Poetic, ecstatic truth

Increasingly, when reading the attempts of folks like Nicolosi to review films, I’m reminded of what Thom Parham once said in response to the question: “Why Do Heathens Make the Best Christian Films?”

“The answer is pretty much the same problem we find with new novelists who want to write Christian fiction,” Parham says. “The Christian novelist is so focused on their ‘message’ that they become preachers (boring) instead of storytellers (fascinating). There is a severe warning for this type of message-driven writing. The result is more akin to propaganda than art, and propaganda has a nasty habit of hardening hearts.”

Judging from the positive reception that has greeted del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth (and Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain, for that matter), people aren’t discerning a work of propaganda. Hearts are not being hardened. So why do folks like Nicolosi revile such films?

My sense is that she and others are simply not attuned to fascinating storytelling, let alone to what filmmaker Werner Herzog refers to as “the deeper strata of truth in cinema . . . [the] poetic, ecstatic truth [that is] mysterious and elusive” and which can only be reached “through fabrication and imagination and stylization.”


No, the preachers of propaganda (at either end of the political spectrum), like the guardians of orthodoxy, are too stunted in their outlook and outreach to seek and grasp such truth. They’re too preoccupied ensuring unquestioning obedience to a rigidly prescribed way of viewing and reacting to a circumscribed view of the human condition and, in the sphere of religion, a circumscribed view of God’s presence and action in the world.

As such they’re incapable of joining with reviewer Paul Bond in contemplating (much less acknowledging) that Pan’s Labyrinth can be viewed as “a film of great hope and optimism, of defending the imagination under difficult circumstances.”

Creating such a film is “no small thing,” says Bond. “The film ends with a narrative that the princess left only tiny traces of her presence on earth for those able to see them. A single flower blooms on a stunted tree.”

That “stunted tree” is each of us – in one way or another. I appreciate filmmakers like del Toro who can creatively and entertainingly cultivate the blossoming of awareness and compassion in our hearts, who remind us of the possibility, indeed, at times, the absolute necessity of questioning and challenging, resisting and growing.

Although raised a Catholic, del Toro apparently no longer identifies as one – or perhaps more accurately, solely as one. Regardless, his most recent film conveys a deeply spiritual message – one that we all need to hear. For as Joan Cittister, OSB, reminds us: “Spirituality has to do with critiquing . . . . Follow the example of Jesus to question, question, question authority. . . . The courage to question the seemingly unquestionable is the essence of spiritual leadership.”



Recommended Off-Site Link:
Embraced by Many Religions, Labyrinth Allows Broad Discussion of Faith Issues – Matthai Chakko Kuruvila (San Francisco Chronicle, March 7, 2007).

UPDATE: 10 Years Later, Pan’s Labyrinth Still Shines – Travis Newton (Fandom, October 26, 2016).

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Reflections on the Overlooked Children of Men
• Reflections on Babel and the “Borders Within”
• Revisiting a Groovy Jesus (and a Dysfunctional Theology)
• Christian Draz’s Critique of Brokeback Mountain
• What the Vatican Can Learn from the X-Men
• The New Superman: Not Necessarily Gay, but Definitely Queer
• Alexander’s Great Love
• Reflections on The Da Vinci Code Controversy
• Thoughts on The Da Vinci Code

Opening image: Drew Struzan.

Gay Adoption: A Catholic Lawyer's Perspective

NOTE: For an update on public opinion on same-gender marriage and adoption in the European Union, see postscript below.


Leading Catholic human rights lawyer Conor Gearty has written an insightful commentary in the February 10 edition of The Tablet.

Entitled “Sex and the Secular Liberal,” Gearty’s commentary highlights the recent controversy in the Untied Kingdom that has pitted the government against the country’s Catholic bishops over the issue of gay adoption.

According to Gearty, “Misunderstanding the depth of post-socialist commitment to equality and diversity, especially that of sexual orientation, was a serious mistake in the Church’s handling of the gay adoption issue. . . . The liberal vision of a tolerant society based on mutual respect but also on a rejection of intolerance is not one to be feared. Rather, it is an offer of partnership that the Church should joyfully seize. But first it has to work out how on earth to manoeuvre itself out of the cul-de-sac of sexuality into which its universality has forced it. Liberal society knows exactly where it is going; does the Church?”

Ponders Gearty: “Might Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor and his episcopal brethren benefit from a board of lay Catholics to advise them on their contact with secular society? In the past week it has been disconcerting to read about the way the ‘gay adoption’ issue seems to have been tackled by the Catholic Church in England and Wales, which made it clear to the Government that it could not accept equality regulations that would put same-sex couples on an equal footing with heterosexual couples as adoptive parents. In doing so the Church raised the stakes, with threats to close down adoption agencies if the Government enforced the requirement to accept the regulations.

“The Church’s stand left many questions to be answered. Are homosexual acts a ‘grave depravity,’ as the Vatican says, if within the context of a loving, monogamous relationship? And if so, why are the bishops so apparently relaxed about allowing referrals of such couples to other adoption agencies? Why did the Church make its threat to close the agencies so early in the dispute, thereby seeming to turn vulnerable children into weapons in the political battle?”


Gearty raises some important questions. I’ve long wondered, for instance, why it is that members of the Catholic hierarchy, convinced as they are of the danger posed to children in families headed by two same-gender adults, don’t demand that governments immediately remove children from such families. I mean, this would be the logical next step after denouncing gay adoptions. Doesn’t the fact that they’re not demanding such action call into question both their understanding of the issue and their commitment to their convictions?

In the Vatican’s 2003 document, Considerations Regarding Proposals to Give Recognition to Unions Between Homosexual Persons, it’s stated that, “As experience has shown, the absence of sexual complementarity in [homosexual] unions creates obstacles in the normal development of children who would be placed in the care of such persons . . . Allowing children to be adopted by persons living in such unions would actually mean doing violence to these children.”

I wonder what the “experience” actually is that supposedly “has shown” that children raised by same-gender parents are in danger of “violence.” As British theologian James Alison has observed, “If it were true that experience (measured study over time, undergoing proper peer review) has shown it to be the case that to entrust infants to the care of same-sex partners has a deleterious effect on their upbringing, and is thus a form of violence, then of course we should fight tooth and nail to prevent this from happening. But is it true?”

Alison notes that “there is no footnote . . . in the Vatican’s document to indicate the source of the claim, ‘As experience has shown . . .’” He is accordingly left to wonder: “Should not someone expressing serious concern about what might happen to infants do better than that?”

Alison’s question is especially pertinent given that there are credible scientific studies available that address this issue. Not surprisingly, none of their findings support the statements of the Vatican.

Here’s just one example: In a 2002 article in Pediatrics [Vol. 109 No. 2 February 2002, pp. 341-344], the official journal of the American Academy of Pediatrics, it is reported that, “A growing body of scientific literature demonstrates that children who grow up with one or two gay and/or lesbian parents fare as well in emotional, cognitive, social, and sexual functioning as do children whose parents are heterosexual. Children’s optimal development seems to be influenced more by the nature of the relationships and interactions within the family unit than by the particular structural form it takes.”


We can only hope that the current Catholic leadership takes to heart their own Second Vatican Council’s 1965 Declaration on Christian Education, a document which, although written with young people in mind, seems today just as appropriate for all of us, including the elderly men within the Catholic hierarchy. This particular document states that, “. . . people must be helped, with the aid of the latest advances in psychology and the arts and the sciences of teaching, to develop harmoniously their physical, moral, and intellectual endowments, so that they may gradually acquire a mature sense of responsibility.”

It seems to me that in the matter of gay adoption, it’s gay parents, not the vast majority of the Catholic hierarchy, who are displaying “a mature sense of responsibility.”

To read Conor Gearty’s commentary, “Sex and the Secular Liberal,” in its entirety, click here.

____________________

Postscript 3/3/07: The March/April 2007 issue of The Gay & Lesbian Review contains an interesting report on the range of public opinion in the European Union with regards to both same-gender marriage and same-gender adoption.


EU Countries Divided on Same-Sex Marriage
The Gay & Lesbian Review
March/April 2007
Public opinion on same-sex marriage and adoption show enormous variation from one European country to the next, according to a large-scale survey that covered all 25 countries of the European Union (EU), two countries in the process of joining, and two candidate countries. For all of the countries surveyed, under half of the sample populations favored same-sex marriage and a third approved of gay adoptions, but this finding may be lisleading in light of this high level of variance.

The study, conducted by TNS Opinion & Social/Eurobarometer, surveyed 29,152 people age fifteen and over in September and October 2006. The survey questionnaire took respondents through a wide range of issues related to EU membership, the general state of affairs in Europe and the world, and a range of social issues, including same-sex marriage and adoption. They were asked to agree or disagree with the following two statements: "Homosexual marriages should be allowed throughout Europe"; and "Adoption of children should be authorized for homosexual couples throughout Europe."

Of the many issues covered in the survey, these questions proved t be among the most divisive among the national populations polled, with same-sex marriage acceptance ranging from a high of 82 percent for the Netherlands to a low of eleven percent for Romania and twelve percent for Latvia.

This division also revealed an especially sharp division between East and West, i.e, between the old NATO countries and the Warsaw Pact countries of the Cold War era (with the interesting exception of the Czech Republic). This may reflect the fact that the latter countries emerged only recently, after 1991, frm Soviet domination with its generally conservative positions on social issues. However, the relative conservatism of two non-Soviet countries, Greece and Portugal, suggests that economic development may also be an underlying factor in shaping attitudes toward GLBT people.

Another striking pattern to emerge is the extent to which public opinion reflects the actual legal situation in these countries. Acceptance of same-sex marriage is highest in countries where marriage or its legal equivalent is currently on the books, which is the case in the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Sweden, and the UK. Most of the other countries of Western Europe - France, Germany, Ireland, the Czech Republic, among others - also recognize same-sex couples as eligible for many benefits of marriage. Presumably the legal situation reflects public opinion in these countries to a large extent; but it may also be the case that the existence of same-sex marriage as a legal reality has a liberalizing effect on public opinion.

One thing is clear: countries that have had an active gay rights movement for the longest are the ones most likely to have both legal protections and favorable public opinion on these issues. From a baseline of nearly universal rejection in the mid-20th century, an atmosphere of tolerance has evolved only slowly and painstakingly as a GLBT rights movement has taken hold in Europe and the reality of gay people has been acknowledged and embraced.


Image 1: gayparenting.com
Image 2: msn.com
Image 3: Steve Baines

Recommended Off-Site Links:
Why Banning Gay Adoptions is Wrong
A Collection of Articles and Research Findings Concerning Children Raised by Gay Parents

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
The Catholic Church and Gays: An Excellent Historical Overview
Vatican Considers the “Lesser of Two Evils”
On Civil Unions and Christian Tradition
When “Guidelines” Lack Guidance
Be Not Afraid You Can Be Happy and Gay
The Non-Negotiables of Human Sex

Praying for George W. Bush

I delivered the following sermon to the community of Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ, Minneapolis, in January 2003.

Sadly, its contents (and its prayer) remain as relevant and vital today as they did four years ago, especially in light of such things as the ongoing US occupation of Iraq and this occupation’s role in increasing global terrorism; the moral and legal outrage that is Guantánamo Bay; and the reputed plans of the Bush Administration to expand its so-called “War on Terror” by launching military strikes against Iran.

I offer today this sermon (and its accompanying readings) as both a prayer and a Lenten reflection.

____________________________________


Contemporary Reading
by Aurora Levins Morales

They say that other country over there, dim blue in the twilight, further than the orange stars exploding over our roofs, is called peace. But who can find the way?

This time we cannot cross until we carry each other. All of us refugees, all of us prophets. No more taking turns on history’s wheel, trying to collect old debts no one can pay. The sea will not open that way.

This time, that country is what we promise each other, our rage pressed cheek to cheek until tears flood the space between, until there are no enemies left, because this time no one will be left to drown and all of us must be chosen. This time it’s all of us or none.


Scripture Reading
Matthew 25: 34-40

Then the ruler will say . . . “Come you that are blessed by my Father-Mother, inherit the domain prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

Then the just will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?

And the ruler will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”


Praying for George W. Bush
A Sermon by Michael J. Bayly
Spirit of the Lakes United Church of Christ
Minneapolis, Minnesota
January 12, 2003

Recently, I’ve been praying for George W. Bush.

I realize that some of you may find this hard to believe, but it’s true.

And it’s not just Geroge W. Bush I’ve been praying for, but Osama bin Laden, Dick Cheney, Saddam Hussein, Tony Blair and indeed all people who, rightly or wrongly, are in positions of earthly power.

You see, I consider many of these so-called leaders to be enemies of humanity, enemies of that abundant life that our brother Jesus spoke of. I hold this view as I consider many of these leaders to be fundamentalists of one type or another – religious fundamentalists, free market fundamentalists – it makes little difference to me.

Fundamentalism is a form of idolatry. We think of idolatry as putting something above God. Yet if we believe in an incarnational God, than idolatry must also be understood as putting something above people – within and through whom God is incarnated.

All fundamentalists reject the essential bonds of human community and connection, opting instead to idolize limited, exclusionary and self-serving things. These “things” might be a literal interpretation of a sacred text, or a rigid adherence to a particular economic agenda. It could be the love of money and power manifested in a political doctrine of “full spectrum dominance” – an empire-building doctrine currently endorsed by those in power in this country.

Whatever the form of idolatry, it is everyday people – be they in Baghdad or Lower Manhattan – who lose out to the idolatry of those in positions of power.

It’s taken me a while to get to the point of being able to pray for those I view as “my enemies.” I recently realized that in part, popular culture – and Hollywood in particular – has had a lot to do with my struggle to live out this aspect of my Christian calling. Let me explain.

Just before Christmas, I saw the second installment of The Lord of the Rings trilogy – The Two Towers. It’s an undeniably impressive film. But like so many works of popular film and literature, it was on a very basic level, a cop-out.

In the battle scenes of The Two Towers, the enemy is comprised of hoards of creatures known as orcs. They’re hideous, blood-thirsty creatures devoid of reason or morality. Their depiction in The Two Towers is utterly dehumanized; they are utterly “the other.”

Accordingly, it becomes very seductive to buy into the cult of war that the film lifts up as heroic and, indeed, necessary if evil is to be conquered. Such an understanding of the use and necessity of violence has theologically been termed “redemptive violence.”

I struggle with the concept of redemptive violence. Increasingly, I see it as the flawed and dangerous idea that out of violence – and I include here political violence such as acts of war and terrorism – can come ultimate good; can come authentic peace. Redemptive violence is a primitive notion – one that reflects a primitive and limited understanding of God and a simplistic, black and white view of the world.

Such a view is clearly reflected in The Two Towers, where the bad guys are ugly orcs and the good guys are brave hobbits, wise wizards or handsome kings. It’s all so clear cut and straight forward. Such simplicity in literature and film is not new, but I find myself hungering for a more honest, a more authentic representation of the human condition.

“If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them.” So wrote the great Russian writer Solzhenitsyn. Yet like all who are open to the reality of the human condition, Solzhenitsyn knew a disturbing truth: “The line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”

Real life, as each one of us knows, is indeed much more complex, much more ambiguous than any Hollywood blockbuster. And I think this fact is especially, and sometimes painfully, discerned by those who understand that as humans we are called to be active and loving agents of God’s transforming presence in the world.

That’s an awesome privilege and responsibility when you stop and think about it. We are called, like our brother Jesus, to be the incarnation of God’s saving and transforming love in the world. This means we have to engage the world in all its complexity, enter into all kinds of relationships, take risks, build communities, reach out to others, recognize ourself and God in those different from us.

I believe that it’s always been through such activity – such compassionate engagement – that the sacred has made him/herself known to the world. Relating is God’s very essence, and accordingly relationships mediate God to us.

The love that we allow to infuse our relationships with others is truly the measure of our awareness, openness and active dwelling in and with God. And this love cannot solely be understood as a warm, glowing feeling inside. This love, in fact, is a restlessly active reality – urging us to ever-new and expanding levels of consciousness about ourselves and how we are to live in the world.

It was just such an expansion of consciousness – informed by years of compassionate engagement with the world – that compelled Dorothy Day, co-founder of the Catholic Worker movement, to declare that “nationalism has been superceded by the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ.”

For Dorothy Day, the Mystical Body of Christ was an expression of the indestructible interconnection of human beings with God and one another. Dorothy maintained that Christ – the living spirit of God – was beyond the confines of any humanly organized religious structure. She infuriated conservative Catholics by declaring as heresy the idea that the Mystical Body includes only the Roman Catholic Church. “The Mystical Body is the inseparable oneness of the human race,” insisted Dorothy Day.

We have an articulation of the ancient doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ on our beautiful banner – one which proclaims that, “The Body of Christ is Living with AIDS.” It’s a proclamation that affirms the belief that God dwells in each one of us – and accordingly, experiences the joys and pains that we experience.

Because of this, Christ transcends boundaries of race and nation: “There is no nationality,” Dorothy Day insisted. “The only foreigner is the one who does not have Christ within. But in all human creation [and I would add all non-human creation as well] there is no one that does not have Christ within. If only men and women could recognize this, there could never be war,” said Dorothy.

Well clearly, men and women – and I’d argue men in particular – don’t recognize the indwelling presence of God within each of us and thus the eternal truth that we are all brothers and sisters, that an injury to one is an injury to all.

Tragically, for many who find themselves in positions of dominating power, or who are trampled upon by such dysfunctional power, the incarnational God is superceded by idols, by those expressions of fundamentalism I spoke of earlier.

Which brings me back to my recent praying for our various world leaders – those men who seem determined to label and treat whole sections of the human family as “evil-doers,” or “Western devils,” or “terrorists.” I’m surprised the term “orcs” hasn’t been thrown out there.

So, what is it exactly that I’ve been praying for? Well, if you receive the church newsletter you probably already know, as in the January newsletter you'll find “A Prayer for 2003.” I guess that’s one good thing about being editor of the newsletter: You get to plug your own prayers! Anyway, my prayer for George W. Bush, Osama bin Laden, and indeed each and every one of us, goes like this:

Let us pray for the fearful, broken world of humanity,
pray that each one of us may seek and find deep within,
the flame-like seed of compassion.
May this compassion be lovingly cultivated by all
so that it blooms in desires and actions for justice, community,
and a sustainable world for all living things.
And may the fragrance of such blossoming
be recognized and celebrated
as peace in our lives and in our world.

Amen.

So, beneath the flowery words and imagery, what I'm basically asking for is that we all open ourselves to the presence of God within ourselves and others. I want us to hunger for one another’s stories, to be prepared to experience one another’s joys and hardships, to seek out alternative sources of news and views that lift up those voices and stories that are marginalized or ignored by the mainstream media.

Indeed, I’d like to see us become the media – jamming the airways and the switchboards and the mailboxes of the corporate media with messages that challenge and oppose those life-denying messages we are daily inundated with – those messages urging unconscious consumption and unfettered accumulation of resources, wealth and power, those messages of war, destruction and death – all in the name of “national security.”

I guess I want a revolution. At least that’s what I’ve always thought I wanted. But lately – and maybe praying this prayer has led to this – I’ve been more focused on evolution. Evolution, unlike revolution, requires participation from each one of us.

For example, the opening to compassion by those people in this country fixated on the false god of empire is dependent on the engaging, sharing, and challenging actions of those of us committed to a living, incarnational God.

I see my life in activism as a reflection of my commitment to such an incarnational God. This life in activism has shown me that mindless ranting and elitist pontificating merely result in polarization. Lately, when I participate in various rallies protesting the policies of the Bush regime, I attempt to engage those who invariably turn up to support such policies.

I don’t set out to convert them to my worldview. Instead, I simply ask them questions and then listen. Their responses provide opportunities for challenge, for them and me – usually through further and more pointed questioning.

I guess I aim to build bridges, to sow seeds, or better still, awaken both of us to that seed of compassion deep within. I’m not saying that I’m always so measured or conversational in my approach. I can get pretty fiery. Yet I consciously seek to always lovingly challenge, rather than hatefully condemn as I believe we’re all called to be God’s loving challenge to those who have chosen to channel their energy into life-denying practices, policies, and modes of thinking.

Greedy and destructive power fueled by unquestioning obedience, is extremely vulnerable to compassionate rebellion. And it’s just such compassionate challenge and rebellion that can facilitate spiritual and moral evolution.

Such evolution may indeed led to positive social transformation – to revolution, if you like. Yet I doubt that any form of violent revolution from without will ever lead to inner spiritual evolution. And so while my hope for social and political revolution remains, my practical focus is on facilitating spiritual and thus social and political evolution – my own and others.

It's an enormous task – one that requires nurturing from a supportive community, a community like Spirit of the Lakes, for instance. It also requires an attitude that actively seeks out signs of hope rather than wallowing in the numerous examples of injustice and oppression we have in the world. I’ll close with some examples of signs of hope that keep me going.

I find it hopeful that the people of Brazil have elected a president willing to suspend the purchase of twelve military jets so that Brazil can spend more on social programs and feed the hungry.

I find hope in the upsurge of independent media outlets and publications, and in the fact that the war-mongering and empire-building of the U.S. government has served to mobilize hundreds of thousands of citizens to lift their voices and say “No!” to an invasion of Iraq.

Closer to home, I find hope in the programs and projects of our church – and in particular those of the Education for Liberation program which I coordinate – projects and programs that provide opportunities for us to compassionately engage the world.

I find hope in the young people of this community – in Logan and Mason and their great love and respect for the environment. In Jonathon’s willingness to share his enthusiasm for the books he’s reading and the films he wants to see. I find hope and encouragement in the way Olivia, Maya and Luke spontaneously and trustingly engage the children they encounter at the Families Moving Forward shelter at Lyndale UCC.

I find hope in Kevin’s exuberance and longing for human connection despite all he’s been through prior to his adoption by Fintan. I find hope in Beka’s activism, her willingness to journey – geographically and spiritually – so as to stand in solidarity with others and model for all of us an active and compassionate engagement with the world.

I find hope in Esphenia and Pablo’s presence among us and in particular of Pablo’s brave seeking of an authentic life far from his homeland and his openness to share his boundless energy and talents – most recently in organizing our community’s Christmas pageant.

And I find hope in the trusting, inquisitive and loving spirit displayed in the smiles, hugs, and energy of the youngest members of our community – of Bella, Jordan, Brin, Keenan, Kaylee and Eli.

In the lives of our young people – beautifully attuned to the inward love of God – we have well-springs of hope. For me, it’s a hope that serves to illuminate and nurture that flame-like seed of compassion within. We all have this seed, this presence of the sacred. Let us honor this presence, celebrate it, embody it.

And what of our enemies? What of those who ignore or distort this presence, and who accordingly – either consciously or unconsciously – trample upon the body of Christ through their treatment of others and the environment?

Perhaps a start would be to stop thinking of such people as our “enemies,” and instead as our brothers and sisters who have lost sight of the presence of God in themselves and others, as our brothers and sisters who have turned from the incarnational God in their sacrificing of humanity (theirs and others) on the altars of idols.

Maybe then we can more readily commit ourselves as individuals and as communities to compassionately engage and lovingly challenge them – recognizing that our salvation is ultimately connected to theirs.

I find it very difficult at times to consider the likes of Osama bin Laden or George W. Bush as my brothers, but stronger than this aversion is my conviction that until I and all of us do, the Body of Christ remains anemic, and the fullness of life that our brother Jesus spoke about, elusive. Our challenge is to embody and share that fullness through invigorating and compassionate engagement – even, indeed especially, with those we consider our “enemies.”

Michael J. Bayly
January 12, 2003