What do gays and lesbians hear?

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about a searching post by the venerable Internet Monk on what gay and lesbian people hear when they listen to Evangelical Christians. To whet your appetite, here’s “what gay and lesbian people hear” #7:

7. We don’t get how hard it is to be gay among evangelicals.

It’s been a long journey for many of us to get past what our evangelical/fundamentalist environment gave us permission to say and think about other human beings as long as we could attach “homo” or “queer” to the sentence. It was shameful, and I’m grateful for those who have helped me get past that kind of sin to repentance and a love for those Jesus loves.

My words and the words of many other evangelicals have made it more difficult for some gays to hear the Gospel. I hope I can repent of that error better in the future. Just in inappropriate humor alone, I’ve got plenty to answer for.

Sobering, no? You can read the full post here (and don’t miss out on the discussion thread).

Is what he says about Evangelical Christians also true of Catholics and Orthodox? For example, are gay and lesbian people “invisible” in our churches? After you’ve read the essay, feel free to come back here and let me know what you think.

Flannery O’Connor on Faith

When I ask myself how I know I believe, I have no satisfactory answer at all, no assurance at all, no feeling at all. I can only say…Lord, I believe, help my unbelief. And all I can say about my love of God, is, Lord help me in my lack of it. I distrust pious phrases, particularly when they issue from my mouth. I try militantly never to be affected by the pious language of the faithful but it is always coming out when you least expect it. In contrast to the pious language of the faithful, the liturgy is beautifully flat.

Letter to “A.”, August 2, 1955

The Necessity of Believing

For, I ask, if what is not known need not be believed, how are children to be subject to their parents? And how are they to love with mutual affection those whom they do not believe to be their own parents? For this cannot in any way be known through reason, but is believed of the father on the authority of the mother; but, as to the mother herself, it is not she, for the most part, that is believed, but midwives, nurses and servants. For cannot she from whom a son can be stolen and another substituted, having been deceived herself, deceive others? Yet we believe, and we believe without any doubt, what we admit we cannot know. For who would not see that, unless this were so, filial devotion, the most sacred bond of the human race, would be violated by a most grievous sin of pride? For who, no matter how crazy he were, should think one ought to be blamed for fulfilling his duties to those whom he believed to be his parents, even though they were not? Who, on the other hand, has not judged that man deserving of exile who, perhaps, loved his real parents very little, lest he might love counterfeit parents? Many examples can be cited which show that absolutely nothing would remain intact in human society if we should determine to believe only what we can grasp by perception.

St. Augustine, De Utilitate Credendi (The Advantage of Believing), § 26

Since it is St. Thomas Sunday, I thought it appropriate to consider the subject of faith. In the excerpt above, St. Augustine points out that believing is something that every human being does at one point or another. The most basic belief, he says, is that one’s parents are in fact one’s parents, since (in his days, at least) this belief can only be based on the authority of another human being.

I suppose one could argue that, given the technology we have today, we can demonstrate parenthood empirically (say, by DNA testing), and that “faith” is no longer necessary in this area. I think, though, that St. Augustine’s argument holds even if this example is outdated. Every day, I believe in things that I do not (and perhaps cannot) know for sure—for example, that the milk I pour on my cereal tomorrow is not laced with cyanide. Now, I could very well be wrong, of course, and suffer the grave consequences of my misplaced trust. But St. Augustine’s point is simply that every day, I go about life believing—or trusting, if you prefer—in all sorts of things and people: weather reports, my car (a rather unreliable object of faith, if you ask me), the guy who makes my Americano (who is more trustworthy than my car)….

It seems to me, then, that believing is just an ordinary part of everyday life. Maybe faith—whether in the milk people, cold fronts or an unseen God—isn’t only for the “religious”, after all.  Some of the objects of our faith, though, might be more consequential than others.  (I’ll leave you to decide which.)

Kristus telah bangkit!

Kristus telah bangkit dari kemautan!
Dengan kewafatan-Nya dikalahkan kemautan
Dan kepada insan di dalam kubur dikurniakan-Nya kehidupan!

“As is Your majesty, so is Your mercy”

Tonight, after the Liturgy of Presanctified Gifts, I received the sacrament of Unction (Anointing of the Sick), and was consoled by the thought that God can heal me in places where I don’t even know I’m broken.  Those wounds, I’m convinced, must be the deepest and the most debilitating.

I was extremely grateful for this prayer from the service.  As far as my various diseases goes, it pretty much covers all the bases–including the ones I don’t know to exist!

We thank you, Lord our God, who are good and love mankind, and are the Physician of our souls and bodies, who bear our diseases without pain, by whose bruises we have been healed; the good shepherd who came to seek for the sheep that had gone astray, who give comfort to the faint-hearted and life to the crushed, who healed the flow of the woman with an issue of blood for twelve years, who healed the daughter of the Canaanite woman of the cruel demon, who forgave the two debtors their debt and gave forgiveness to the sinful woman, who granted healing to the paralysed man with the forgiveness of his sins, who justified the Publican by a word and accepted the Thief by his final confession, who took away the sins of the world and nailed them to the Cross. We beg and implore you: In your loving-kindness loose, forgive, pardon, O God, the iniquities and sins of your servants, their offences both voluntary and involuntary, in knowledge and in ignorance, by transgression and disobedience, by night and by day; or if they are the curse of a Priest or of father or mother; if they have feasted their eyes, indulged their sense of smell, been seduced by touch or fornicated by taste, or by whatever movement of flesh and spirit have become estranged from your will and from your holiness. Pardon whatever sins they or we have committed, for you, O God, are good, you do not remember evil and you love mankind, and do not let them or us fall into a defiled life or run into ways of destruction. Yes, Master and Lord, hearken to me a sinner at this hour on behalf of your servants. Overlook, O God, as you do not remember evil, all their offences, free them from eternal punishment, fill their mouths with your praise, open their lips to glorify your name, stretch out their hands to the doing of your commandments, direct their feet to the course of your Gospel, making all their members and their thoughts safe by your grace. For you are our God, who commanded us by your holy Apostles, saying: Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. And again: If you forgive the sins of any they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any they are retained. And as you hearkened to Hezekiah in the affliction of his soul at the hour of his death and did not disregard his petition, even so hearken to me also, your humble, sinful and unworthy servant at this hour as I entreat you. For you, Lord Jesus Christ, are the one who commanded in your goodness and love for mankind to forgive those who fall seventy times seven, and you repent over our evils deeds and rejoice at the turning back of those who have gone astray.

For as is your majesty so is your mercy, and to you we give glory, together with your Father who is without beginning and your all-holy, good and life-giving Spirit, now and forever, and to the ages of ages.  Amen.

What would I be without His borderless compassion?

The holiest days are here, and I must try extra hard to live rather than narrate (which I’m exceedingly prone to do).   I won’t post until at least after Thomas Sunday.  See you all on the other side of this greatest of Passovers.