Gays, drunks and the Catholic Church
My beloved church says that homosexuality is fine, just not the act. There are various biblical reasons for this, but basically it seems that sex is for procreation so everything else is deviant. This includes oral and anal sex and very definitely gay sex. Seeing that most of my male friends are screaming fags you would think I would have a problem with what the church teaches. I don’t.
See, I always look at the KC perspective, how can I have someone else’s? So, I am an alcoholic. Fact. It’s either genetic or conditioning, but there it is, regardless of cause. Does that mean I have to drink? No. So, does being born gay mean you have to act on it? No.
Doesn’t mean I am drifting around like a judgmental preacher. The many gay people I know and am close to, often feel ostracized by their church. Yet, I know one who was in a Catholic seminary studying to be a priest he has been in a long and loving relationship for about 15 years with a Buddhist. Yet he still goes to Mass and has none of the issues others do with his faith.
As an alcoholic, I also face extreme censure from the church. We don’t do divorce, but discovering your husband or wife is an alcoholic is grounds for annulment. The church believes you have the seeds from childhood and treats like a mental illness/evil.
I think peace needs to be made with whoever you are and the God of your understanding. Many people turn from their church when they find something in themselves that is not compatible. Yet if you were brought up in it good luck finding another God that works for you. Haha. Not easy. I have watched enough people try. The church teachings may be hardcore, but the structure of the church is of forgiveness and tolerance. Some parishioners are not. My alcoholism or someone else’s gayness is not, in my mind, a good enough reason to turf the whole thing. Does that mean that gay people define themselves only by their sexuality? Shame.
I chose Catholicism, after an atheist upbringing. I chose it, despite who I am, what I am and what I have done in my life. I have broken all bar one of the ten commandments and I have been guilty of every one of the seven deadly sins. Yet, I chose this thing and in it, I have found something very beautiful and ugly at the same time.
Larissa
There are some of you who won’t see me quite the same way again after this blog. And to you, I say: ‘I don’t give a damn.’ Or something ruder. You are not the kind of folk I have ever wanted to be around. Anyway, this is a gentle piece, maybe, about the first girl I ever fell in love with. Her name was Larissa and she was perfect.
Obviously, because I am not a lesbian, it did not last for long. I think about three months. Added to that she was the most glorious woman and I don’t know how to handle beautiful women. She had cappuccino coloured skin and the longest legs- man, they went on forever. Her walk was the lushest thing- She did this little scrunching-toes-twist. It was not contrived, it was like she danced with every step.
I was seventeen, Lari was about 19. I adored her. We met at a nightclub in Harare and I just, well, fell in love. The first time we kissed I thought I was going to pass out. I was hopelessly crap in bed. She was so beautiful and I felt so clumsy. Little wonder she dumped me for a black Englishman with a big cock and a passport out of Zim. Larri looked a little like Grace Jones, but softer and she was meant for bigger things. It took me about six weeks to get over it.
We clubbed together and kissed and held hands on the dance floor. She really was a good dancer and we are talking about the late 80s when most people did some sort of zombie-shuffle. My friends were wonderful about it. So were my folks. ‘Just another phase.’
Me? I was convinced this was IT. Hahaha I was seventeen! Still, 20 years later I can still see her walking towards my car with the wind blowing her skirt, those flat shoes she always wore dancing along.
I was one of those odd kids- you know- all my friends were strange in some way or other. Gays, lesbians, other colours, journalists, photographers. Never normal. Never main-stream. I am deeply grateful to my parents for never teaching me prejudice. This has meant I have never once judged a person based on anything other than how they treat me or interact with me.
