The synodal approach to church life that Pope Francis is encouraging has greatly assisted me. It has forced me to rethink how I serve in the church and how I minister to those I serve. Perhaps the most important insight I have gained is that church leaders should be wary about presuming too much about people. We do better when we listen to others before we speak or make judgments about them. Given our years of education and preparation in the seminary and the deference that people often offer us, the fallacy that “Father knows best” can easily creep into our thinking.
Some years ago, Cardinal Luis Ladaria, former prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, offered helpful advice to U.S. bishops. In 2021, we were formulating a national policy regarding admission to Communion for Catholics in public office who support legislation permitting abortion, euthanasia or other moral evils.
Cardinal Ladaria urged us to first “reach out to and engage in dialogue with Catholic politicians within their jurisdictions who adopt a pro-choice position regarding abortion legislation, euthanasia, or other moral evils, as a means of understanding the nature of their positions and their comprehension of Catholic teaching” (emphasis added). Only then, the cardinal noted, could the bishops discern “the best way forward for the church in the United States to witness to the grave moral responsibility of Catholic public officials to protect human life at all stages.”
We do better when we listen to others before we speak or make judgments about them.
In other words, we should listen to them rather than presume that we know how they understand church teaching, or that we know how they view carrying out the responsibilities of their office.
This approach of putting aside our preconceptions and really listening also applies to how church leaders ought to consider people in a variety of life situations. This includes not only LGBTQ Catholics, but also people who are married or single, those in so-called irregular situations, those who are living with physical and psychological disabilities and others.
Over this past decade as archbishop of Chicago, I have scheduled listening sessions with people representing all these groups. These conversations have given me a fresh perspective for understanding what the church means when it affirmed at the Second Vatican Council that “the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ. Indeed, nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in their hearts” (Gaudium et Spes, #1).
Of course, we can make that affirmation honestly only if we are in touch with people at those profound levels of human existence, and listen to them. In my conversations with LGBTQ Catholics, I have encountered searing truths about the realities of their lives in our church and in our world.
An overwhelming number of LGBTQ Catholics I’ve met told me that they suffer a sense of alienation precisely because they feel preemptively judged and excluded. The pain is especially sharp when it is experienced in their families or among those who have been their friends. This is also true when they experience this as members of their own church. They relate stories of being ostracized, even being thrown out of their family homes, when they told their parents about their sexual orientation. They felt unwelcome in the church and even spoke of being denied baptism and admission to Catholic schools for the children they adopted. One person told me that the way they were banished, shunned and even hated led them to the conclusion that being gay made them a modern-day leper. Tragically, this kind of alienation can lead to suicidal ideation.
In my conversations with LGBTQ Catholics, I have encountered searing truths about the realities of their life in our church and in our world.
Yet amidst these realities of exclusion and suffering lies a profound resiliency, an unwillingness to give up their desire to be good and respond to Christ’s call to follow him in the life of the church. They attend Mass. They become involved in parish life where they are welcomed. They pray daily and practice works of mercy, especially outreach to the poor.
Many of our LGBTQ Catholic sisters and brothers value community life. They are convinced that it is important to make the case for their place in the life of the church because they have something not only to receive but also to give, which we should recognize and welcome.
Many LGBTQ people also learn and know what sacrificial love is, as they take on the role of parenting children who otherwise would not have a home. This also happens when LGBTQ people put the social Gospel into practice by volunteering for good causes and by dealing compassionately with others, as so many of them already know what it means to feel excluded.
I believe we have a better chance of pursuing a holy life if we walk together “on the road” (synodos) and help each other along the way.
Contrary to what others often say or think about LGBTQ people, the idea that they are uniquely obsessed with sexual satisfaction is a myth (as if we don’t have abundant examples of cultural obsession with heterosexual gratification). Rather, what’s been clear in my conversations with LGBTQ Catholics is that they place a high priority on expressions of love and intimacy that comport with church teaching. In fact, they tend to see a relationship with a partner as an attempt to establish stability in their lives in the face of the promiscuity that is sometimes present in both the gay and straight communities.
Pastoral outreach to the LGBTQ population always should include the call of the Gospel to live a chaste and virtuous life. At the same time, in my 50 years as a priest I have learned that all of us struggle with those demands. We are, after all, all called to chastity.
Returning to Pope Francis’s call for a synodal church, I believe we have a better chance of pursuing a holy life if we walk together “on the road” (synodos) and help each other along the way. This means leaving behind preemptive exclusion and the shunning of those we have easily, if not lazily, judged as unworthy of our companionship. For if we talk with and, even more important, listen to each other, we may actually come to recognize what all God’s children share as members of the same family: that we are more alike than different, and that we are all from and going home to God.
