— These women’s mystical writings invite us to look beyond cultural assumptions and deepen our relationship with Christ.
By Ellyn Sanna
“Who do you say I am?” asks Jesus in Luke’s gospel (9:20). His words imply he’s not interested in doctrine or theology. He wants a personal response, not a repetition of the party line.
Female mystics during the Middle Ages were one group who felt free to come up with their own replies. In Jesus, medieval women found someone who was “neither male nor female” (Gal. 3:28).
And yet, isn’t maleness an aspect of Jesus’ identity that’s self-evident? How can there be any room for ambiguity? Somehow, though, the personhood of Jesus drew a new perspective even in the context of medieval patriarchy. Today, queer theology affirms that those medieval women were absolutely right: There’s a larger, more inclusive answer to the question of Jesus’ gender.
Before we react for or against that statement, let’s be sure we understand how queer theology defines itself. To be “queer,” according to definitions queer scholars use, doesn’t necessarily mean to be homosexual. Tyson Pugh, author of Queering Medieval Genres (Palgrave Macmillan), points out that queerness is not a term related to either hetero- or homosexual relationships but rather a concept that totally disrupts our ideas about sexuality. Queer theology, Pugh says, makes room for people and ideas that may not fit into the binary categories of “straight” and “gay.”
Women mystics during the Middle Ages would have had no problem with this. And they were quite comfortable with a gender-bending Jesus. These women answered Jesus’ question— “Who do you say I am?”—in ways that may seem to verge on blasphemy.
When we look back at the Middle Ages, though, historians remind us we shouldn’t use our 21st-century lens. Sexuality was not defined then the same as it is today. Amy Hollywood, in her book Queer Theology (Blackwell), writes that in the Middle Ages, “men and women tended to be perceived as the ends of the same continuum rather than as diametrically opposed to each other as they are today.” The words homosexuality and heterosexuality didn’t even exist until the late 19th century, and these binary concepts would not have matched up with medieval perspectives.
This is why no one had a problem with women mystics describing their experiences in the language of a modern-day bodice-ripper; piercing, penetrating, ravaging, burning, and ecstasy are all words lifted straight from their writings. St. Teresa of Ávila, the great 16th-century doctor of the church, writes that her mystic encounters with Jesus leave her “all on fire,” moaning from the “exceeding sweetness.”
In the 12th century, Hildegard of Bingen equates Jesus with caritas (love, a feminine being). Sometimes Jesus is Hildegard’s male lover wooing her, but more often Hildegard takes the masculine role of a knight pursuing Jesus, her female lover. In the writings of medieval women such as Hildegard, says Hollywood, “gender becomes so radically fluid that it is not clear what kind of sexuality—within the heterosexual/homosexual dichotomy readily available to modern readers—is being . . . employed to evoke the relationship between humans and the divine.”
Hadewijch, a 13th-century mystic, also names Jesus with the feminine word for love. “He who wishes to serve love,” she writes, referring to her own soul in relationship with Jesus, “must surrender himself into her power.” Then, later in the same poem, she refers to herself as a woman wooed by love, slain by “her touch.” In another poem, Hadewijch writes, “You who can conquer all with wonder! Conquer me, so I may conquer you.”
In a similar way, Mechthild of Magdeburg, also in the 13th century, writes these confusing lines, referring to her relationship with Jesus: “He surrenders himself to her, and she surrenders himself to her.” The boundaries between male and female have become permeable, allowing all the variations of human sexuality to meld into a fluid unity.
In her book Power, Gender, and Christian Mysticism (Cambridge University Press), historian Grace Jantzen writes that women mystics describe “direct, highly charged, passionate encounters between Christ and the writer. The sexuality is explicit.” These medieval women claimed the eroticism of their own bodies as a form of spiritual power.
Not all medieval mystics thought of Jesus as a lover—but they still engaged in confusing gender bending, where roles shifted, blended, and merged. Margery of Kempe in 14th-century England identifies with Jesus as being like her in his womanhood, but she also says she gives birth to him as his mother. Her contemporary, the woman mystic Julian of Norwich, describes Jesus’ blood on the cross as resembling menstrual blood; Jesus is a woman like herself. She also insists he is the embodiment of all true motherhood, and she refers to him throughout her writing as “our Mother.”
During the Middle Ages, far more women than men were mystics. This may have been because women identified with the physicality of Jesus’ life, for they too suffered and bled, birthed and nourished, and often died in the process. Their bodies, the very part of them men said was corrupt, gave them entryway into spiritual intimacy with Christ. Intense mystical experiences also freed women from the rules and roles the patriarchy imposed. Their mysticism did not lift them into some higher noncorporeal plane but, instead, grounded the spiritual world in their own experiences as women. Mysticism gave women’s voices back to them. On the grounds of this spiritual authority, women could even write books.
Claiming this authority was tricky, though. According to Jean Gerson, a prominent 14th-century philosopher and scholar, “The female sex is forbidden on apostolic authority to teach in public, that is either by word of mouth or writing. . . . All women’s teaching is to be held suspect . . . because they are easily seduced and determined seducers.” But if women mystics spoke with Jesus’ voice, then men could accept their messages as coming straight from God. In that case, women would be like empty straws through which the divine could flow.
“I am a poor little woman,” writes Mechthild, “but I write this book out of God’s heart and mouth.” Hildegard—a polymath author, artist, musician, botanist, astronomer, and physician—refers to herself as “a weak and fragile rib.” Julian of Norwich, whose theology is as brilliant and relevant today as it was in the 14th century, claims she is “ignorant, weak, and frail.” Only by apologizing for themselves, by casting themselves as invisible and unworthy carriers of Christ’s message, could these women be taken seriously (and hopefully avoid the mortal danger of being condemned as heretics).
And yet, despite the need for subterfuge and apology, medieval women proclaimed the holiness of their own bodies. When they looked at Jesus, they saw someone outside the patriarchy, someone who understood them and affirmed them spiritually but also physically. Through Jesus, they claimed their sexuality in a space where no human male could enter. “You are me,” these women said to Jesus, “and I am you. We are one.”
Christ has been defined in many ways over the centuries and around the world—but the real question has always been: What is your relationship with Jesus? If we expand our answers to this question, looking beyond our cultural assumptions, we too, like medieval women, may find entryway into a deeper relationship with Christ.
Then, far more than those medieval women, we have the power to pull our understanding of the incarnation out beyond our own souls, into our society. Our answers to Jesus’ question can stretch beyond gender, beyond race, beyond creed. Relationship with a queer Jesus might even smash the barriers of hate and fear we’ve built between us.
So—who do you say Jesus is?
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Promise of change but much more to do after pope’s same-sex blessing decision
When Pope Francis met in October with leaders of the Global Network of Rainbow Catholics at the Vatican, Seattle’s Leo Egashira said it was a pivotal moment.
Given the “glacial” pace of change for the church, he said the picture of LGBTQ+ Catholic leaders meeting with the pope would have been unthinkable even 10 years ago.
Egashira, who was a longtime board member of DignityUSA, a U.S. organization that advocates for LGBTQ+ Catholics and is involved in the Global Network, said the meeting was a “tacit blessing” and an opening that portends great hope for change in the church.
Then last month’s decision by Pope Francis to allow blessings for same-sex couples took that change a step further.
“I think it’s an acknowledgment that our voices are being heard, and that the leaders are realizing that all people are part of the church and that it’s not an exclusive club,” Egashira said. “I think that the current pope has a very pastoral leadership style, and that pastoral leadership style calls for inclusivity.” Egashira described a pastoral approach as seeing and addressing the personal and spiritual needs of an individual as opposed to judging people for their adherence to specific rules.
But, he said, it is just a first step. “Eventually, I hope it does lead to not only acceptance, but support for LGBTQ Catholics,” he said. “Acceptance is the lowest minimum bar. And this is a step toward that. But I think people deserve and want much more than that.”
Egashira was born into a Seattle Japanese American Catholic family and is a member of the Central District’s multicultural Immaculate Conception Church. He is one of only two of his surviving eight siblings who is still part of the church. Egashira said most of his siblings no longer found the church to be aligned with their beliefs or relevant to their lives.
As a proud gay man, Egashira is determined to stay and fight for change in the church from within.
While the focus of DignityUSA has long been on inclusion for LGBTQ+ Catholics, Egashira emphasizes that addressing misogyny and patriarchy in the church are also critical to making progressive change.
“The basic cause of homophobia is misogyny,” he said. “You’re not going to be able to address homophobia … or transphobia adequately without addressing misogyny. It’s the fear and hatred of women that animates transphobia and homophobia.”
Bishop Edward Donalson III, of the Center for Ecumenical and Interreligious Engagement at Seattle University and a board member of Faith Action Network, agrees.
Donalson said at the root, it’s the “hatred of the feminine” that undergirds homophobia. “All anti-LGBTQ ideology is moored in misogyny and cis hetero patriarchy — not just patriarchy, it’s a specific cis hetero patriarchy,” he said. “Cis” is shorthand for cisgender, or a person whose gender identity aligns with the gender they were assigned at birth.
It’s important to understand, Donalson said, that the pope’s statement on blessing same-sex couples does not change Catholic theology.
“It does not make same-gender marriage sacramental,” Donalson said. “And that’s an important distinction, both for Catholics who are worried that their church is changing and for LGBTQ folks who might be somewhat deceived by what the messaging is, or somewhat confused by the messaging.”
But, he said, the statement does acknowledge the humanity of LGBTQ+ Catholics who choose to be legally married in the places around the world where legal marriage is an option. It’s not surprising that it came from Francis, Donalson said, because “everything about Pope Francis has been a clear indicator that he has an eye toward compassion. And this is directly in line with his eye toward compassion.”
Yet most importantly, Donalson said the pope’s statement is an opportunity for the church to have a deeper conversation about what it means to bless and what it means to marry. “I think what the pope has done is presented an opportunity for the church to interrogate itself,” he said.
Donalson said that despite all that could be said about the church, it creates community and a place for people to connect to something bigger than themselves worldwide. “People — particularly post pandemic, in an era of absolute isolation — are drawn to places of community, compassion, care,” he said.
Egashira said it’s a deep commitment to caring for all people through charitable work and pastoral care that represents the best of the church.
“The core tenets are, I think, unassailable. And almost anyone can live with it. It’s this when you get all the trappings, the institutional trappings and the power and the politics that go along with it, that it becomes perverted,” he said.
“In times past … the Catholic Church has been the strongest proponent of civil rights and equality,” Egashira said. “And so that aspect I do like, but the fact that in its own house that it has a severe form of misogyny, severe homophobia, it’s really hard to reconcile that with many of the good actions of the Catholic Church.”
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Vatican defends Pope Francis allowing blessings for same-sex couples
The Vatican on Thursday defended Pope Francis’ recent decision to allow priests to bless same-sex couples, after bishops around the world condemned the doctrine.
Why it matters: The dissent underscored a wider divide between traditionalist and more conservative Catholic leaders on Francis’ goals for the institution and its future membership.
- Even though the new policy both did not condone same-sex marriages and condemns such marital arrangements as “irregular situations,” some bishops in Europe, Africa and other parts of the world almost immediately vowed to not implement it, AP reports.
Driving the news: The Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, the church department in charge of Catholic doctrine, in a statement Thursday said dissent to the policy reflected a “need for a more extended period of pastoral reflection.”
- It also noted that the policy may be a delicate subject in countries that strictly outlaw homosexuality.
- But such countries are few, per the department, adding that church leaders under governments with those laws have a wider responsibility to defend human dignity.
However, it said dissent to the new policy cannot be described as doctrinal opposition, as the policy reaffirms the church’s long-standing beliefs around marriage and sexuality.
- The policy and the same-sex blessings it allows should not be considered “heretical, contrary to the Tradition of the Church or blasphemous,” the department said.
- It said bishops can adopt the blessings with “prudence and attention to the ecclesial context and to the local culture.” But they cannot totally ban priests from giving the blessing.
Details: The new policy stresses that blessings for same-sex couples don’t represent an approval of same-sex marriages or unions, must not be given at the same time as a civil union and cannot resemble weddings in any way.
- The strongest voices among the dissenting bishops criticized the policy as being contradictory and an affront on the churches’ beliefs on the sacrament of marriage and sexuality.
- Other bishops downplayed the novelty of Francis’ new policy, saying it merely restates the Vatican’s traditional doctrines around marriage, according to AP.
The big picture: Making the church more welcoming LGBTQ+ people has also been a part of Francis’ agenda. He’s also emphasized social justice issues like the environmental and protections for the poor.
- Francis has moved to allow transgender people to be baptized and denounced laws that criminalize homosexuality.
However, he has done so while at the same time having to uphold the church’s historical views.
- The balancing act has in part produced a doctrine that stresses that gay people be treated with dignity and respect. At the same time, it denounces gay sex as being “intrinsically disordered.”
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Why LGBTQ Catholics Are Ambivalent About the “Gift” of Same-Sex Blessings
— For some, it’s a watershed moment and for others it’s a piddling half-step. But it has the radical potential to encourage some very important conversations.
I like to remind friends that December 25 is just the first of the 12 days of Christmas. The gift wrap and bows might already be in the garbage, but there’s still the problem of what to do with the presents, particularly the big, awkward ones we didn’t necessarily ask for. A case in point is the gift the Vatican gave in late December when it granted permission for priests to extend a blessing to Catholics in “irregular” relationships. The term refers to heterosexuals in relationships not sanctioned by the church as well as same-sex couples, but most of the media attention has been trained on the latter. And while a great deal has already been written on the subject, we’re still sorting out what it means.
For those who follow the church, the announcement wasn’t a complete surprise. As early as 2021, there was talk that Pope Francis was not happy with the decision of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF, a body that promulgates Catholic doctrine) to ban the blessing of such unions. The DDF stated that there was too much risk that they would be “confused” with sacramental marriages and that it was, in any event, impossible to bless something that is not “objectively and positively ordered to receive and express grace.” That ban, however, did not stop bishops in Belgium and Germany from advancing plans to formally bless such unions. The fact that these moves were part of the “synodal path” Francis is fostering further complicated the situation. The pope could not forbid them from going forward without appearing inconsistent, nor could he simply silence other bishops who complained that the Germans and Belgians were on the road to “heresy” and “schism.”
In the words of Jesuit priest and writer Father James Martin, the December 18 declaration, Fiducia supplicans, can be seen as Francis’s attempt to “thread the needle.” Rather than flatly contradicting the DDF’s previous ban on blessing gay couples, the document draws a careful distinction between the formal blessings bestowed in a sacrament like marriage and the less formal blessings offered as part of the day-to-day pastoral activity of a priest. On the one hand, it heads off initiatives like those proposed in Germany and Belgium that might “confuse” same-sex unions with marriage, which the document still defines as “exclusive, stable, and indissoluble union between a man and a woman, naturally open to the generation of children.” At the same time, it permits priests to acknowledge and bless what is good in those relationships, and to pray that the couple involved might “live better”—a point to which we will have to return.
Not surprisingly, the declaration was met with a mix of jubilation and moral outrage. Father Martin, known for his efforts to encourage greater rapprochement between the church hierarchy and the LGBTQ community, published a photo of himself blessing two men clasping each other’s hands. At the same time, bishop conferences in Cameroon, Zambia, and Malawi have all formally forbidden priests from offering such blessings, denouncing the distinction made in the document between sacramental and non-sacramental blessings as “hypocritical.”
Less expected was the ambivalence, anger, and cynicism expressed by some LGBTQ Catholics. Mary Pezzulo, a bisexual woman in a heterosexual marriage who is well-known as a Catholic blogger, complained that the declaration is “in some ways a laughably tiny concession. In other ways, it’s a monumental step forward.” Others have been less nuanced. When asked whether he and his husband would now have their relationship blessed by a priest, my best friend told me in language too colorful for The Nation what those priests could do to themselves.
This attitude is indicative of the damage the church’s treatment of LGBTQ people has already done. It’s no secret that church membership in the United States has dropped in the last few decades, and, according to the Pew Research Center, no other religious community has suffered more precipitous losses than the Catholic Church. While there seem to be no figures for Catholics in particular, a survey published last May by the Public Religion Research Institute found that 30 percent of US adults who have left a religious community say they did so at least partially because of negative teachings regarding LGBTQ people. Offering blessings to same-sex couples might be a welcome development to those who still care about the church, but it’s not clear that it will have any effect on those who have already given up on it.
Indeed, the long-term effects of the decision are almost impossible to predict. The angry statements of the African bishops and US conservatives might raise the same specter of schism that haunted the movement to formalize blessings among the German and Belgian bishops—though the fact that Fiducia supplicans emphasizes the private, informal nature of the blessing will make it difficult for anyone to break communion with anyone else. How would any bishop or priest know that another has blessed an LGBTQ couple, unless, like Father Martin, they make it public?
The privacy of the blessings might, in fact, prove to be the stroke of genius in the declaration, insofar as it encourages on the private level the kind of dialogue Francis has been urging in the synodal process. Like other moves the DDF has made in recent weeks—the statement that transgender individuals can be baptized and serve as godparents and the reminder that women cannot be denied communion because they are single mothers—it creates occasions for new kinds of conversation. Admittedly, some of those conversations will be awkward. As Jamie Manson, president of Catholics for Choice and a lesbian, pointed out, “Given the homophobic and transphobic climate created by many bishops in the United States, the average same-sex couple likely still won’t feel comfortable presenting themselves to their local bishop or priest to ask for a blessing.” But the discomfort goes both ways. One priest on what we used to call Twitter complained that the declaration would put him in the position of saying no to people asking for blessings. In effect, both sides foresee the sort of difficult, face-to-face interactions that one expects around the family dinner table this time of year.
The declaration, then, could prove to be a gift that won’t stop giving, and that might be more than Francis bargained for. While I don’t doubt the sincerity of his desire to open the church to LGBTQ people, all indications are that his understanding of sex and gender is traditional and essentialist. The African bishops might not be completely wrong to call the declaration “hypocritical,” since the word derives from a Greek term that, among other things, means “actor.” There is bound to be an element of falseness in offering a blessing that same-sex couples will “live better” if living better is understood to live no longer as a couple. At least part of the resentment some LGBTQ Catholics feel is that these blessings will be just a kind of noblesse oblige, another bit of condescending theater meant to make cis-heterosexuals feel better about themselves.
But all those difficult conversations unleashed by the declaration could also help push that cis-heterosexual paradigm from the center of our understanding of sex and relationships and leave us looking instead at what it means to love. And that might be the glorious possibility hidden in this very awkward Christmas gift.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!
Fiducia Supplicans news flashback
— 5-star case of the medium being the message
Here is a fact from life on the religion beat. Several times a year, a religion-beat reporter is going to be approached by an editor who wants him or her to make a photo-assignment for a religious holiday or a story with some kind of religion hook.
They don’t want Southern Baptists in gray suits (or even megachurch tropical shirts). They don’t want Pentecostal believers in church clothes with their hands in the air. (Well, if there were snake-handlers in urban zip codes near elite newsrooms, they’d be big hits with newsroom photo-desks.)
Reporters know what editors want — pictures of Catholic rites. Catholics photograph well. That’s why there are 100 movies about Catholics for every one movie about run-of-the-mill Protestants. (Episcopalians will do, every now and then, especially since they always are several decades ahead of Rome on the historic “reforms,” such as female bishops, etc.)
This brings me, belatedly (I’ve had other things on my mind), to Fiducia Supplicans and what makes that complex and, I would argue, intentionally confusing document so newsworthy and historic.
This was a papal chess move that, in the fine print, stressed that its creators did NOT want to produce photo ops that looked like same-sex marriages. But the big news is that it did precisely that in the media that matter the most — newspapers and television networks in New York City and other deep-blue media environments.
It’s all about the staged visuals. If you look at Fiducia Supplicans from a photo-op perspective, the key New York Times story was perfect. The headline: “Making History on a Tuesday Morning, With the Church’s Blessing.”
These blessing rites had been taking place in Europe for several years now (and privately, we can assume, in North America). The elite press ignored those events, even though — from a church history perspective — they were just as important as blessing rites In. New. York. City.
But anything in New York City, with America’s most important (and Pope Francis favored) priest in a starring role is obviously more important than something in Germany. Right? Now it’s time to celebrate.
Let’s read through several crucial passages in that Times epistle to the people of America. Note the anti-photo-op Vatican language in the overture which sets up, of course, the Vatican approved, oh so symbolic, photo op.
As a Jesuit priest for more than two decades, the Rev. James Martin has bestowed thousands of blessings — on rosary beads, on babies, on homes, boats, and meals, on statues of saints, on the sick, on brides and on grooms.
Never before, though, was he permitted to bless a same-sex couple — not until … the pope said he would allow such blessings, an announcement that reverberated through the church.
… Damian Steidl Jack, 44, and his husband, Jason Steidl Jack, 38, stood before Father Martin in a living room on Manhattan’s West Side. The couple, running a bit late because of subway delays, dressed casually. Damian, a floral designer, complimented Father Martin on the pine smell of the Christmas tree.
In keeping with the Vatican’s admonition that such a blessing should not be performed with “any clothing, gestures, or words that are proper to a wedding,” Father Martin wore no robes, and read from no text. There is no blessing for same-sex couples in the thick book of blessings published by the U.S. Conference of Bishops. Instead he selected a favorite of his own from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and keep you,” Father Martin began, touching the two men’s shoulders. They bowed their heads slightly, and held hands.
“May the Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you. May the Lord turn his countenance to you and give you joy and peace.
“And may almighty God bless you,” he said, making the sign of the cross, “the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
The big word is “gestures.”
Thus, the photo is the story. That’s the whole point. The photo, for about 99% of readers who see it, says what Catholic progressives want it to say.
Catholic clergy will not be punished for performing these blessings. Catholic clergy who refuse to perform them can expect to get calls from reporters. The leaders of Catholic schools and ministries that choose to dismiss Catholics living in same-sex relationships can expect to be asked by judges whether these employees have been blessed by a priest, acting with the blessing of the pope.
The photo is the story. Protecting the priests in the photos appears — until Vatican actions prove otherwise — to have been the point of Fiducia Supplicans.
The New York TImes report does a great job of contrasting the anti-photo-op language in the Vatican document with the photo-op realities in real life. Again: The photo is the story. Note, again, the word “gesture.”
The pope’s decision was greeted as a landmark victory by advocates for gay Catholics, who describe it as a significant gesture of openness and pastoral care, and a reminder that an institution whose age is measured in millenniums can change.
The decision does not overturn the church’s doctrine that marriage is between a man and a woman. It does not allow priests to perform same-sex marriages. It takes pains to differentiate between the sacrament of marriage — which must take place in a church — and a blessing, which is a more informal, even spontaneous, gesture. And, a priest’s blessing of a same-sex couple should not take place in connection with a civil marriage ceremony, it says.
News of the pope’s decision spread quickly among gay Catholics, many of whom began preparations for blessings of their own after the busy Christmas season.
Ah, Catholics “began preparations” for “spontaneous” gestures.
Keep reading as the Times team moves into Act II:
On the morning of the pope’s announcement, Michael McCabe’s husband, Eric Sherman, ran into his home office in their apartment in Forest Hills, Queens, bursting with news: Their 46-year partnership could at last be blessed.
“You wait so long for the church to come around, you kind of give up hope,” said Mr. McCabe, 73, who attends Mass every Sunday at the Church of St. Francis Xavier in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan.
The couple married in 2010 in Connecticut, before same-sex marriages became legal in their home state of New York. They had long been resigned to the church’s stance, even if they had not fully made peace with it, Mr. McCabe said.
“I know that myself and my relationship with my husband are good things,” said Mr. McCabe, who taught catechism to first graders at the church.
In other words, McCabe is said to be a clergy-recognized leader in his parish, even with the strange past-tense reference in the this key language — “who taught catechism to first graders at the church.”
Maybe quote the senior priest in this parish to verify that crucial fact?
One more passage will note the obvious thesis in this story:
In New York City, where a handful of progressive Catholic churches have been on the forefront of welcoming L.G.B.T.Q. parishioners, but have stopped short of marrying them and sanctifying their unions, the news from the Vatican was just as exciting for some priests as it was for their parishioners.
“I say it is about darn time,” said the Rev. Joseph Juracek, pastor of the Church of St. Francis of Assisi in Midtown, who believes the church is finally aligning with Jesus’ teachings: “This is what he is all about: That God is for all people.”
Now they can schedule church blessings and take those crucial photos. That’s the story.
That’s the rite.
At the Outreach website, Father Martin made the same arguments that he made with the Times team (note the reference to his role in the Synod on Synodality):
… [Y]ou may hear from some quarters that “nothing has changed.” It reminds me of my church history professor, John W. O’Malley, S.J., who said that when church teaching changes, the most common introduction is “As the church has always taught… “
Here, Father O’Malley’s insight is made manifest in a slightly different way. Some Catholics oppose any steps toward greater inclusion for LGBTQ people in the life of the church. We saw some of this during the Synod on Synodality, where I was a voting member, with significant pushback from certain quarters on even using the term “LGBTQ.” So, for some, this declaration (even though it specifies that the blessings must not in any way seem like a marriage rite) will be threatening, and the temptation will therefore be to say, “Nothing has changed.”
But a great deal has in fact changed. Before this document was issued, there was no permission for bishops, priests and deacons to bless couples in same-sex unions in any setting. This document establishes, with some limitations, that they can.
Of course, some may say that there are many restrictions (as noted above), while others will note that in some places (most notable in the German church) these blessings were already widespread. (One German bishop told me during the Synod that he himself blessed such unions outside his cathedral.) The change here is that these blessings are now officially sanctioned by the Vatican. Today, with some limitations, I can perform a public blessing of a same-sex couple. Yesterday, I could not.
That spontaneous blessing took place, of course, after working on the photo-desk paperwork at The New York Times.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!