Making Celibacy...Tolerable?
Maybe don't be a sh*t person?
I’ve found myself in an angsty funk thinking about the myriad of ways the community in my Catholic church is failing myself and others. Inspired by a lengthy conversation with a fellow Substacker, I find myself musing particularly on my Church community’s failures in relation to supporting the Church’s views on sexual morality, chastity, celibacy and all those good things. I hope to process my frustrations, draw out my view of the problem, and perhaps find a glimpse toward a hopeful future.
The Catholic church proclaims that the sexual act belongs within the confines of marriage, and any other sexual activity is a no-go. And I believe this entirely! Woohoo! Wam-bam, close the laptop, case closed, all done, article over!
This principle has been preached from the mountain tops, with cutsie language about high school boys trying to keep it in their pants and high school girls making lists about their dream future husband.
Meanwhile the greater Church provides very little support for anybody to live this outside the classic “marriage by 24 years old, pop out 8 kids” trope. For most outside the trope, I’d argue there is effectively zero support. This dearth of support I feel deep in my personhood, as my sexual experience lands somewhere on the rainbow flag. (gays, don’t crucify me if I start dating a girl that I’m currently embroiled in a love triangle with; I’m attracted to dudes too.) What the hell am I supposed to do if I can’t find a wife who is cool with (gesticulates at my chaos) all of this? Live out my days steeped in loneliness, frequent horniness (gasp, he said it), white knuckling my way to my death bed? Sounds pretty miserable. And honestly, finding a guy to hook up with is...frighteningly quick. The alternative sits right there.
I once introduced myself to a young dad after mass who was close to my age hoping to meet some new people, make a friend, whatever. He opened the conversation asking if I was married and had kids, and when I told him I was single and childless he immediately heel-turned and walked away. We talked for maybe 15 seconds. I laugh about the absurdity to this day. This is the state of my local Catholic community. And from what I hear, the greater community ain’t doing much better.1
I’m not the only one suffering through the mismatch between my Church’s teachings and her community’s behaviors. The straight dude with impressive social anxiety showing up to mass every week alone is never invited to the only men’s bible study made up of young dads. The divorcée who doesn’t even know what an annulment is living with her new man, confused and hurt by father’s homily about divorce. The post-partum and suicidal mom who just got the world’s nastiest glare from Church Lady Betty for her crying baby. The high school dude whose home life is imploding and found his emotional reprieve in ‘gooning’, dragged to mass by mom and treated like toxic sludge by his peers. The priest who is far too close to breaking (or has already broken) his promise of celibacy retreating into the shadows of his rectory on another Sunday night spent alone…for now at least.
My community’s response? Ignore the problem, that’s too hard! You don’t fit into my clean little bucket? Maybe I’ll point at a program “over there”, an online support group, a doctor 4 hours away, a porn blocking service, a 12 step program, a community organization. But I would never sit in the mess with that person. Shake off my sandals! Gross! *Heel-turn*
Yet the Church’s teaching holds all of these individuals, including myself, to the same rules and principles. And regarding chastity, the principle is that sex belongs in a sacramental marriage. Good luck, hope your fingers don’t get sore white knuckling it! And by white knuckling I certainly don’t mean masturbation - that’s bad too. But it’s gross to talk about so hush up. And don’t forget, when your fingers get sore and your grip does loosen up, I’ll be right there to crucify you the moment you fail.
When our Church gives zero support, her teachings quickly become perceived as “all bark, no bite” and easily dismissed or circumvented for a more seemingly beautiful option.2 This fellow Substacker (who happens to be gay) interprets this disconnect as “good reason to suspect that the Catholic Church does not really believe what it teaches regarding the supposed grave depravity of gay relationships and gay sexual acts.”3 I’ve felt that sentiment myself, in my cynical moments crying out: “Oh yeah??? If I’m supposed to be living chastely, show me literally any modern example who is doing it well and feels supported and loved!”4
Clearly I’m angsty. But I don’t think I’m the only one. Truthfully, I see massive parallels in the (comically controversial) opinions from Patrick Neve, who has the gall to suggest people attempt to invest in their local community even if they find none. And I think his ideas may have (positive) implications far beyond something as simple as an individual Church Shopping.
But what do we do about it? My cursory musings lead me to believe we can choose (1) ignorance [the problem doesn’t exist] (2) despair [nothing will ever change, abandon ship] or (3) hope [empowered to create].
At various points in my life I have chosen both ignorance and despair. And I have especially flirted with this despair these last few months.
I don’t think it’s a bold proposal to suggest this specific despair leads to people finding their reprieve outside the bounds of the church. That proud butch gay girl found no community within her Church regardless how often she shows up. Not one Catholic friend, let alone a conversation after mass. How is she supposed to take this pill of celibacy made very bitter by modern Catholics? Meanwhile, she sees a lavish and accessible rainbow colored community where she can have conversations (gasp!), a friend (double gasp!!), maybe a girlfriend (triple gasp!!!), even sex (*faints onto the couch!!!!*), and be celebrated for just existing. If she really believes the behavior of her Church, what would possibly keep her engaged? Why should she really believe Church teaching, especially about something as difficult and personal as sexuality and celibacy?
In my opinion, LBGT individuals are leaving for a community who can - quite frankly - often love better and do community much better. For the LGBT inclined individuals, there’s been decades of building spaces, community and support ready to catch them after our Catholic community fails (15 seconds into our first conversation). And that pesky hurdle of celibacy has also been cast aside, even better.
Celibacy, (or chaste marriage, or chaste priesthood, or life of any virtue!), is near impossible without love, support and community. Lives of any virtue are filled with too many crosses to bear on our own. The LGBT existence is one example that simply brings this specific and abysmal failure directly into the spotlight. A failure that negatively impacts many souls (including those outside the LBGT space) who find themselves on the periphery in the Church.
Our bishops have at least recognized the suckiness in our Church:
“In humility and repentance, the Church shares the guilt of mankind in its disunity. Presenting men and women with hope in the fulfillment of their destiny beyond this life, it also assumes, under the cross of its Lord, the burdens and the struggles of the oppressed, the poor, and the suffering.”5
Returning to my Substack comrade, he is right: “gay people are among the poor and needy relative to the center.”6 And we, the Church community should attempt to assume the burdens and struggles of the oppressed, the poor and the suffering. Our bishops correctly identify that we have a responsibility to these people. (I suppose they are my people then…)
I guess this is where I enter. The middling bi guy, always straddling some sort of metaphorical line.
In recent months I’ve been ravaged by waves of this despair and others, toeing the line of throwing it all away. In fact I did toss it all away (several times!) only to be drawn back again and again.
At the risk of sounding gauche, I know Jesus. The sky is blue, gravity drags me to the ground, and Jesus is real. And He loves me. Somehow. And He wants me to come chill with Him in Heaven when I die. This knowledge is experiential, a result of Jesus chasing after me in dark times, me cracking the door of my heart to see who was knocking and subsequently letting him in as a guest. I have no proofs, no philosophizing. I’ve simply encountered Him. And honestly, I have been annoyed by this knowledge these past several months. Despair and giving up would be so much easier for me…but, unfortunately Jesus was still there reaching his hand into waters when I’d rather have drown.
Lord, to whom shall I go? To borrow the title of my favorite Substack piece ever, even after the drowning, the despair, throwing it all away…I somehow found my faith unmurdered.
This is the seed of my hope. A small tiny light in the recesses of my soul, silently fighting against the darkness of despair. When my community fails and the despair takes me down, He is still there, as quiet and present and real as ever. And somehow His presence is enough for my glimmer of hope to persist. Hope in His Church’s teachings, hope for my own integration, hope for community, for support, for a life where celibacy is actually celebrated and possible, for a conversation longer than 15 seconds.
Jesus loves me, and I want to be with Him. Yet the people in his Church can suck…a lot. My gut reaction is to dissect it all apart: Jesus from the Church, the Church from her members, the ‘shitty members’ against her ‘better members’. There are some truths here. Jesus is not the Church, exactly. The Church is not her individual members, exactly. The members are not all the same, exactly.
But the members of the Church are one body (cue the horrific 90s song). Jesus exists, and if I believe he speaks through scripture at all, He gifted me this messy Church as the ordinary path to be with Him in Heaven. This Church’s “body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ...Now the body is not a single part, but many.” (1 Cor 12). The heart, the toenails, the parts I’d rather identify as cancerous - everybody7 is part of the body of the Church.
We belong to one another with a singular mission, according to the bishops: “to share with all persons the hope for union with God.” (emphasis added)8 We comprise the Church, and we are supposed to work together to help ourselves and each other get to Heaven! (achieved only with God’s grace etc. etc.)
If we (a) believe Jesus is real and actually loves us, if we (b) truly want to get to Heaven ourselves, if we (c) truly believe His Church is one body and (d) we are responsible to help all members get to Heaven, AND if (e) that ordinary journey toward Heaven requires following Catholic teachings, it is time to put our (MF’ing) money where our (MF’ing) mouth is.
And yes, that means you, Mr. Macho Dad! You have been called by your Savior to help that trans identifying “thing” who wandered into “your pew” to get to Heaven. GOOD LUCK!
*heel-turn*
The real question is…now what?
I dunno, exactly.
How do I not be so profoundly shitty?
How can I build a world where celibacy seems like a reasonable and viably lifelong option for myself and others?
Not just a *pat on the back*, “Good luck!”, *heel turn*?
I know and love Jesus, even when His existence is more annoying than awesome. I believe in Heaven, and I want to get to Heaven. And I want you, dear reader, to get there as well. (You too, Father Peter, I’m still praying for you). I retain a faint glimmer of hope for the institution of His Church, even when that hope has been violently gutted by many members in the Church, from the non-chaste priest to the douchey dad. That glimmer of hope still contains the Church’s teachings, including teachings on sexuality, even when her members and leaders don’t follow them or support them or work hard to simply dismantle them.
I believe in these teachings because they have brought me closer to Jesus. And I can witness to the great peace, deep healing, joy and suffering (!) I receive when I live chastity and specifically celibacy well, with both ladies and guys. In the LGBT space, I can point to people like Grant Hartley, Eve Tushnet, her books & her work at Building Catholic. I can hold up Eden Invitation and the friends I’ve met through their community. And plenty more in the Side B (LGBT & celibate) space.
But really, my world is only so big, and I can only do so much.
Perhaps another (celibate!) lady could provide a path forward. Mother Teresa in her Nobel Peach Prize acceptance speech may have the beginning of an answer:
“And so here I am talking with you – I want you to find the poor here, right in your own home first. And begin love there. Be that good news to your own people. And find out about your next-door neighbor – do you know who they are?…And you see this is where love begins – at home.”9
Borrowing my Substack comrade’s language again, the LBGT are some of the ‘poor’ in the modern church. Maybe I don’t need to crawl across the United States proclaiming that gay people aren’t as gross as you think they are, shouting to the twelve people who would listen to my babbling. Mother Teresa simply loved the people, poor or not, in front of her, exactly as they were and without expectations.
Maybe I can start by loving those people closest to me that are easier for me to ignore. Maybe I can linger after confession a little longer and introduce myself to that person I’ve seen for weeks who always comes alone. Maybe I can invite them to my book club, hell maybe I’ll start my own when the original timing doesn’t work for them. Maybe I can actually become friends with them, be present and supportive when they are mourning the loss of a family member or celebrating their new job. Maybe I can text them on Valentine’s Day telling them I love them because, well, I do, and because I know they’re single and I have a feeling they don’t hear it often enough. Maybe I don’t need to shove teachings and encyclicals into every interaction, maybe I just need to be their friend today and hang out with a coffee and a walk.
Maybe I can be brave and vulnerable and share some of my internal messiness when appropriate, and maybe their messiness might become a little less scary for them to unfurl. Maybe I can build that relationship where somebody might be comfortable to finally crack open their proverbial closet, sexuality or otherwise, that has always kept them an arms distance from the Christ, His Church, and the virtue they proclaim to be so “great” yet never realized in their life.
Maybe then can I be more like Simon of Cyrene, knowingly or unknowingly helping that person carry their own multitude of crosses as we quietly march toward Heaven together.
Maybe all the while helping that closeted bi guy walk a bit more faithfully in that chastity and celibacy he has been white knuckling for decades.
That’s a start, I guess.
Come Holy Spirit, teach me how to love.
NB: I am also very blessed to have a number of very close Catholic friends who are a great support and whom I love deeply, even if I’m not ‘out’ to many of them. Perhaps one of the reasons I haven’t thrown this whole life away.
https://substack.com/home/post/p-186729688
For what it’s worth, these people do exist and I can happily point them out. One example is vowed lay celibate, a Substacker who brings a lot of light into the Catholic sphere on this site.
https://www.usccb.org/committees/ecumenical-interreligious-affairs/agreed-statement-purpose-church
Yes yes, I guess technically it’s only those who are baptized Catholic, but the Lord also draws people to himself in mysterious ways.
The nineteenth century English convert to Catholicism, Father Frederick Faber, wrote a book called Kindness. Reading your stack, I thought of the passage below. I think of it from time to time.
It's true that one is more likely to find kindness in a twelve step group than in a church. But like you, I am a practicing Catholic, have been for 45 years, and I don't give up on going to church.
Father Faber writes:
Devout people are, as a class, the least kind of all classes. This is a scandalous thing to say ; but the scandal of the fact is so much greater than the scandal of acknowledging it, that I will brave this last for the sake of a greater good.
Religious people are an unkindly lot. Poor human nature cannot do everything; and kindness is too often left uncultivated because men do not sufficiently understand its value.
Men may be charitable, yet not kind; merciful, yet not kind; self-denying, yet not kind. If they would add a little common kindness to their uncommon graces, they would convert ten where they now only abate the prejudices of one.
I agree. I have long thought that the lesbian community in particular did and does and excellent job of meeting people where they are and loving them there. Hospitality goes a long way - I think- the hospitality of presence (greeting people, chatting with the grocery clerk etc), and the hospitality of place (opening one's home).