Anglican Mainstream

I have been asked about the issue of pain, and why the gay/les/bi communities seem to have such a monopoly on it, and why the rest of us in the church must attend to and engage empathetically with it.

In fundamentally important ways gay people do not have a monopoly on issues of pain, trauma and tragedy. Which of us does not carry burdens of one sort or another from past hurts, burdens which are permanently with us and blight our lives to one degree or another? Sometimes these personal plagues are apparent to others; often they are completely invisible to all – only God sees. The more one listens to people as they tell their ‘real’ story, the worse it gets. And though sometimes we are able to receive comfort through the sharing of these burdens, often we have to muddle through alone, consumed by our seemingly intractable situations and inner angst. Few know, fewer care and no one really understands.

However, given the relatively recent acquisition of privileged minority status of the G/L/B communities in the PC postmodern West, their pain would seem to be ‘the flavour of the month’, the pain that matters, or so we are continually told. And there can be no doubt but that gays have been victims, have been unwanted and rejected because of the assertion of their gay identity and its corresponding types of lifestyle.

In short, gays have been hurt, hence their pain. However, can we go any deeper, do any better, than this?

Traditional Christian orthodoxy has always maintained that God can not bless sin of any form or type and indeed, does not bless but actively judges it. My sin is condemned by Almighty God as evil, toxic to my welfare and the wellbeing of my soul and body, even as is yours. And judgement hurts. Victorian Christians used to say something along the lines of how a man does not break the commandments but breaks himself upon them.

However, for many in the church today, the above comment is essentially irrelevant, spoken from a now-thankfully-vanished ‘absolutist’ moral vantage point; these individuals operate with a radically different ethical paradigm which includes the reformulation of the concepts like ’sin’ and what moral behaviours and categories comprise it. For others who may be caught between these two diatmetrically opposed realms of belief and lifestyle, I would like to point to two articles which provide some answers to the question of gay pain and do so with empathy and honesty. At this point I concentrate upon gay male pain, though there is some overlap with the situations of the members of the lesbian and bisexual communities.

The first is an essay by Dr Jeffrey Satinover entitled ‘How Might Homosexuality Develop?’, 4 January 2007. This excerpt describes what Jeff encountered in working with gay men over the years.

In time, his life becomes even more distressing than for most. Some of this is in fact, as activists claim, because all-too-often he experiences from others a cold lack of sympathy or even open hostility. The only people who seem really to accept him are other gays, and so he forms an even stronger bond with them as a “community.” But it is not true, as activists claim, that these are the only or even the major stresses. Much distress is caused simply by his way of life – for example, the medical consequences, AIDS being just one of many (if also the worst). He also lives with the guilt and shame that he inevitably feels over his compulsive, promiscuous behavior; and too over the knowledge that he cannot relate effectively to the opposite sex and is less likely to have a family (a psychological loss for which political campaigns for homosexual marriage, adoption, and inheritance rights can never adequately compensate).

However much activists try to normalize for him these patterns of behavior and the losses they cause, and however expedient it may be for political purposes to hide them from the public-at-large, unless he shuts down huge areas of his emotional life he simply cannot honestly look at himself in this situation and feel content.

And no one – not even a genuine, dyed-in-the-wool, sexually insecure “homophobe” – is nearly so hard on him as he is on himself. Furthermore, the self-condemning messages that he struggles with on a daily basis are in fact only reinforced by the bitter self-derogating wit of the very gay culture he has embraced. The activists around him keep saying that it is all caused by the “internalized homophobia” of the surrounding culture, but he knows that it is not.

See http://www.narth.com/docs/pieces.html for the article in its entirety.

In case my reader may be thinking that this reflects unacceptable ideological bias, I would like to point to a second article, Ronald G Lee’s ‘The Books were a Front for the Porn’, New Oxford Review, February 2006, written by one who invested a good two decades in the gay life in his part of the world and found it anything but traditionally ‘gay’. The most insightful part of the essay is the second half, from which I am taking most of this excerpt. I quote Ron’s words at length because he is writes with such clarity and compassion; also, he writes with quite unusual frankness and honesty of what he himself experienced.

For twenty years, I thought there was something wrong with me. Dozens of well-meaning people assured me that there was a whole, different world of homosexual men out there, a world that for some reason I could never find, a world of God-fearing, straight-acting, monogamy-believing, and fidelity-practicing homosexuals. They assured me that they themselves knew personally (for a fact and for real) that such men existed. They themselves knew such men (or at least had heard tell of them from those who did). And I believed it, although as the years passed it got harder and harder. Then I got a personal computer and a subscription to AOL. “O.K.,” I reasoned, “morally conservative homosexuals are obviously shy and skittish and fearful of sudden movements. They don’t like bars and bathhouses. Neither do I. They don’t attend Dignity meetings or Metropolitan Community Church services because the gay ‘churches’ are really bathhouses masquerading as houses of worship. But there is no reason a morally conservative homosexual cannot subscribe to AOL and submit a profile. If I can do it, anyone can do it.” So I did it. I wrote a profile describing myself as a conservative Catholic (comme ci, comme ça) who loved classical music and theater and good books and scintillating conversation about all of the above. I said I wanted very much to meet other like-minded homosexuals for the purposes of friendship and romance. I tried to be as clear as I knew how. I was not interested in one night stands. And within minutes of placing the profile, I got my first response. It consisted of three words: “How many inches?” My experience of looking for love on AOL went downhill rapidly from there.
…
Gay culture is a paradox. Most homosexuals tend to be liberal Democrats, or in the U.K., supporters of the Labour Party. They gravitate toward those Parties on the grounds that their policies are more compassionate and sensitive to the needs of the downtrodden and oppressed. But there is nothing compassionate about a gay bar. It represents a laissez faire free sexual market of the most Darwinian sort. There is no place in it for those who are not prepared to compete, and the rules of the game are ruthless and unforgiving. I remember once being in a gay pub in central London. Most of the men there were buff and toned and in their 20s or early 30s. An older gentleman walked in, who looked to be in his 70s. It was as if the Angel of Death himself had made an entrance. In that crowded bar, a space opened up around him that no one wanted to enter. His shadow transmitted contagion. It was obvious that his presence made the other customers nervous. He stood quietly at the bar and ordered a drink. He spoke to no one and no one spoke to him. When he eventually finished his drink and left, the sigh of relief from all those buff, toned pub crawlers was almost audible. Now all of them could go back to pretending that gay men were all young and beautiful forever. Gentle reader, do you know what a “bug chaser” is? A bug chaser is a young gay man who wants to contract HIV so that he will never grow old. And that is the world that Harry left his wife, and the other Harry his [Mormon] Church, to find happiness in.

I have known a lot of people like the two Harrys. But I have met precious few who bore more than a superficial resemblance to the idealized images we see in Oscar-winning movies such as Philadelphia, or in the magazine section of The New York Times. What I find suspicious is that the media ignore the existence of people like the two Harrys. The unhappiness so common among homosexuals is swept under the carpet, while fanciful and unrealistic “role models” are offered up for public consumption. There is at the very least grounds for a serious debate about the proposition that “gay is good,” but no such debate is taking place, because most of the mainstream media have already made up their (and our) minds.
…
I am convinced that many, if not most, people who are familiar with the lives of homosexuals know the truth, but refuse to face it. My best friend got involved in the gay rights movement as a graduate student. He and a lesbian colleague sometimes counseled young men who were struggling with their sexuality. Once, the two of them met a young man who was seriously overweight and suffered from terrible acne. The young man waxed eloquent about the happiness he expected to find when he came out of the closet. He was going to find a partner, and the two of them would live happily ever after. The whole time my friend was thinking that if someone looking like this fat, pustulent young man ever walked into a bar, he would be folded, spindled, and mutilated before even taking a seat. Afterwards, the lesbian turned to him and said, “You know, sometimes it is better to stay in the closet.” My friend told me that for him this represented a decisive moment. This lesbian claimed to love and admire gay men. She never stopped praising their kindness and compassion and creativity. But with that one comment she in effect told my friend that she really knew what gay life was all about. It was about meat, and unless you were a good cut, don’t bother coming to the supermarket.

On another occasion, I was complaining to a lesbian about my disillusionment. She made a remarkable admission to me. She had a teenage son, who so far had not displayed signs of sexual interest in either gender. She knew as a lesbian she should not care which road he took. But she confessed to me that she did care. Based on the lives of the gay men she knew, she found herself secretly praying that her son would turn out to be straight. As a mother, she did not want to see her son living that life.

A popular definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing, while expecting a different result. That was me, the whole time I was laboring to become a happy homosexual. I was a lunatic. Several times I turned for advice to gay men who seemed better adjusted to their lot in life than I was. First, I wanted confirmation that my perceptions were accurate, that life as a male homosexual really was as awful as it seemed to be. And then I wanted to know what I was supposed to do about it. When was it going to get better? What could I do to make it better? I got two sorts of reactions to these questions, both of which left me feeling hurt and confused. The first sort of reaction was denial, often bitter denial, of what I was suggesting. I was told that there was something wrong with me, that most gay men were having a wonderful time, that I was generalizing on the basis of my own experience (whose experience was I supposed to generalize from?), and that I should shut up and stop bothering others with my “internalized homophobia.”

I began seeing a counselor when I was a graduate student. Matt (not his real name) was a happily married man with college-age children. All he knew about homosexuality he learned from the other members of his profession, who assured him that homosexuality was not a mental illness and that there were no good reasons that homosexuals could not lead happy, productive lives. When I first unloaded my tale of woe, Matt told me I had never really come out of the closet. (I still have no idea what he meant, but suspect it is like the “once saved, always saved” Baptist who responds to the lapsed by telling him that he was never really saved in the first place.) I needed to go back, he told me, try again, and continue to look for the positive experiences he was sure were available for me, on the basis of no other evidence than the rulings of the American Psychiatric Association. He had almost no personal experience of homosexuals, but his peers assured him that the book section at Lobo’s offered a true picture of homosexual life. I knew Matt was clueless, but I still wanted to believe he was right.

Matt and I developed a therapeutic relationship. During the year we spent together, he learned far more from me than I did from him. I tried to take his advice. I was sharing a house that year with another grad student who was in the process of coming out and experiencing his own disillusionment. Because I had been his only gay friend, and had encouraged him to come out, his bitterness came to be directed at me, and our relationship suffered for it. Meanwhile, I developed a close friendship with a member of the faculty who was openly gay. When I first informed Matt, he was ecstatic. He thought I was finally come out properly. The faculty member was just the sort of friend I needed. But the faculty member, as it turned out, despite his immaculate professional facade, was a deeply disturbed man who put all of his friends through emotional hell, which I of course shared with a shocked and silenced Matt. (I tried to date but, as usual, experienced the same pattern that characterized all my homosexual relationships. The friendship lasted as long as the sexual heat. Once that cooled, my partner’s interest in me as a person dissipated with it.) It was not a good year. At the end of it, I remember Matt staring at me, with glazed eyes and a shell-shocked look on his face, and admitting, “You know, being gay is a lot harder than I realized.”

Not everyone I spoke to over the years rejected what I had to say out of hand. I once corresponded with an English ex-Dominican. I was ecstatic to learn that he was gay, and was eventually kicked out of his order for refusing to remain in the closet. He included an e-mail address in one of his books, and I wrote him, wanting to know if his experience of life as a homosexual was significantly different from mine. I presumed it must be, since he had written a couple of books, passionately defending the right of homosexuals to a place in the Church. His response to me was one of the last nails in the coffin of my life as a gay man. To my astonishment, he admitted that his experiences were not unlike mine. All he could suggest was that I keep trying, and eventually everything would work out. In other words, this brilliant man, whose books had meant so much to me, had nothing to suggest except that I keep doing the same thing, while expecting a different result. There was only one reasonable conclusion. I would be nuts if I took his advice. It took me twenty years, but I finally reached the conclusion that I did not want to be insane.

See http://www.virtueonline.org/portal/modules/news/article.php?storyid=3650 for the article in its entirety.

And finally, for those who are still unconvinced, may I suggest some eye-opening reading by erudite gay-advocates, Marshall Kirk and Hunter Madsen, ‘After the Ball: How America Will Conquer its Fear and Hatred of Gays in the 90s’ (1989)? Part III is not for those of prudish inclination or the faint of heart. Kirk and Madsen are brutally, graphically honest about gay realities – and gay pain – and unafraid to offend.

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