What has changed when it
comes to gays and the Church in the past ten years? A decade ago,
Canon Jeffrey John was forced to decline the post of Bishop of
Reading after an outcry over the fact that he was gay. His
admission that he and his partner were celibate did little to
lessen the hoo-hah. Celibacy was not enough. Yet now the Church of
England has decided that celibacy is quite sufficient, thank
you.
Over in the Roman Catholic
Church, the tide is moving in the opposite direction. The Soho
Masses for gays and their families, which were approved by Cardinal
Cormac Murphy-O'Connor, have just been banned by his successor as
Archbishop of Westminster, the Most Revd Vincent Nichols (
News, 4 January). In a move heavy with symbolism, he has handed
the Soho church in which they took place to the Ordinariate, which
was set up by Pope Benedict XVI to poach disaffected Anglicans -
likely to disapprove of the ordination of women, let alone
gays.
It is not, in either case,
the theology that has changed, but rather the psychology. Anglican
opponents of celibate gay bishops seem motivated by distrust: "They
may say they are celibate, but can we believe them?" The Roman
Curia, which one conservative Catholic recently described as
"absolutely paranoid about homosexuality", appears to assume bad
faith, too.
Weasel words are common in
politics, but we should not expect them in theology. Roman Catholic
apologists have talked about the dilemma of ministering to a group
that feels separate, without endorsing its members'
separateness.Gay masses risk the growth of a ghetto mentality,
which is the opposite of Catholic universalism; so ending them is a
welcome into the embrace of the whole Church rather than an act of
alienation. Separate worship can be justified only as a transition,
as for incoming ethnic groups, such as Poles, for example. Nor does
it address the fact that the Soho Masses are held only fortnightly,
to allow attenders to worship at their parish mass on the other
Sundays.
So why these changes? It is
hard not to suspect that Church of England bishops have acted out
of embarrassment at the ridicule poured on the Church when it
rejected women bishops. The fact that the Measure failed - despite
a yes-vote from two out of three Houses in the General Synod, and
42 of the 44 dioceses - looked to the rest of society like
gerrymandering, which has damaged the Church's integrity.
Politics may also explain
the Roman Catholic shift. The English hierarchy has been under
pressure from Rome, which has also been unhappy with Archbishop
Nichols's lukewarm welcome for the Ordinariate. This might explain
why he has not yet been made a cardinal. Putting the Ordinariate
into the very church that has been used for gay masses kills two
birds with one stone.
It is often supposed that
both Roman Catholic and Anglican critics of homosexuality draw a
distinction between homosexual acts, which they see as sinful, and
"the homosexual condition or tendency", which is not. But, in fact,
Anglican opponents to celibate gay bishops seem to draw on the same
ideological prejudice expressed by the present pope.
As head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, he
wrote a Letter to Bishops, On the Pastoral Care of Homosexual
Persons, in 1986. It said that, while homosexual acts were
"intrinsically disordered" and sinful, even homosexual inclination
was a "tendency ordered toward an intrinsic moral evil; and thus
the inclination itself must be seen as an objective disorder". What
the reactionary elements in both Churches really want, it seems
clear, is for gay men and women in the pews to be cowed, quiet, and
ashamed.