Not every day over the last week in Rome was historic—but many were.
I didn’t know what to expect when Michael O’Loughlin, the executive director of Outreach, came up with a great idea: sponsoring a pilgrimage to Rome, to coincide with plans for a worldwide LGBTQ Catholic pilgrimage during the Jubilee Year. Outreach had been in touch with our brother (sister? sibling?) group La Tenda di Gionata (Jonathan’s Tent) in Italy, who arranged for an international pilgrimage for LGBTQ Catholics to be included on the semi-official Vatican list of Jubilee pilgrimages.
I certainly did not expect to be able to participate in what became, as I see it, a historic week for the church. It’s hard to summarize, or even put into words, what happened or what happened inside of me, but let me try by focusing on a few events in a whirlwind six days.
Meeting Pope Leo
I’ve already written about my audience with Pope Leo XIV earlier on Outreach and I am filled with gratitude not only for the Holy Father’s time but for his message that he would continue Pope Francis’s pastoral approach towards LGBTQ Catholics, which is one of openness. It was a deeply consoling meeting.
What moved me almost as much as the speaking to our warm and welcoming new pope was hearing how much that news of the meeting meant to so many people. Many LGBTQ Catholics in Rome told me that they breathed a sigh of relief after wondering whether the church would be continuing along the path that Francis had blazed. With Leo, who is also committed to synodality (which means, above all, listening), they were able to move forward in hope.
A prayer service like no other
On Friday night, La Tenda di Gionata sponsored a prayer service at the Church of the Gesù, the Mother Church of the Society of Jesus. None of us in our Outreach group knew what to expect (although we joked that since we were in Italy it was bound to go long!) but we were eager to go. So, it seemed, was the rest of Rome.
What we encountered was a full measure of the Holy Spirit: active, alive, energizing, inspiring and, most of all, joyful. It was a thoughtful mix of Scripture readings, prayers, testimonies, gestures and hymns.
And it was packed: about 1,300 people crowded every inch of the historic church. Parents of LGBTQ children were offered seats by young people, who sat cross-legged on the floor throughout the vast space. A choir with pilgrims from around the world sang even before the service started. Before the vigil, dozens of priests heard confessions. In my remarks, I told the crowd how moving it was to stand in between the tomb of St. Ignatius Loyola, who asked us to find God in all things and in all people; and the relic of the arm of St. Francis Xavier, who had baptized tens of thousands of people who were at the time were considered barely worthy of attention.
At the end of the service, we sang a beloved World Youth Day hymn, “Jesus Christ, you are my life.” As we sang, I looked at the image high above the altar: the “IHS,” the first three letters of Jesus’s name in Greek. And I thought, Yes, yes, yes, you are my life and you give us all life. Afterwards I was overwhelmed by the number of old and new friends who came up for a hug, a chat or a selfie. Honestly, I have never seen such joy in a group of LGBTQ Catholics.
An historic Mass
During the week, journalists had been asking Mike and me the same question: What makes these days so special? For me, one answer was that Bishop Francesco Savino, the vice president of the Italian Bishops conference, would be celebrating a Mass at the Gesu for the LGBTQ community during the Jubilee. (Of course, not everyone at Mass was an LGBTQ person; there were also family, friends and allies and, by the way, there were no protestors in sight.) During the Mass, Bishop Savino said that Pope Leo XIV had personally encouraged him to celebrate the Mass with us. “He said with sweetness,” said the bishop relating the pope’s words, “‘Go and celebrate the mass organized by La Tenda di Gionata and the other organizations that care for your brothers and sisters.’”
During his homily, Bishop Savino spoke of what Jubilee meant: “It was the year when land was returned to those from whom it had been taken. The Jubilee was the remission of debts and the liberation of slaves and prisoners. The Jubilee was the time to free the oppressed and restore dignity to those who had been denied it. Brothers and sisters, I say this with emotion. It is time to restore dignity to everyone, especially those who have been denied it!”
A full minute of applause broke out, like a dam bursting. Later one of our pilgrims said to me, “I didn’t know how much I needed that Mass until I was there.”
Meeting LGBTQ Catholics from around the world
Mike, and the rest of the frankly incredible Outreach team, Jack Consolie and Alessandra Rose, organized a superb panel discussion held at the Jesuit Curia in Rome, somewhat similar to one that we had sponsored during the last session of the Synod, on the lives and experiences of LGBTQ Catholics. (We were also exceedingly grateful to the Curia for allowing us to meet in the grand Aula, where Jesuit superior generals are elected.)
For many participants, including some of our pilgrims, it was the first time that they had met LGBTQ Catholics from so many countries. Likewise, one of the things that Mike and I often remark upon is the growing number of LGBTQ Catholic groups worldwide: La Tenda di Gionata in Italy, Drachma in Malta, Crismhom in Spain, as well as the Global Network of Rainbow Catholics. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up! From the U.S. side, Dignity and New Ways Ministry were also present at the event. Afterwards, people from Australia, Spain, Belgium, Italy, France, the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, New Zealand, India, Sri Lanka, Taiwan, Kenya, the United States and several other countries mixed together, sharing stories until we had to (almost literally) chase them from the room.
The Holy Spirit
Every Sunday during the Creed, we say, “I believe in the Holy Spirit.” I believe passionately in the Spirit, not only because I’m Catholic, but because I experience it.
The Spirit was there for our pilgrims during faith-sharing meetings at the end of some very full days; it was there during the talks we heard from a cardinal who had participated in a conclave; a bishop who worked in the Vatican; two Jesuit priests who spoke on Ignatian spirituality; and America’s Vatican correspondent, Gerard O’Connell, who shared his hopes for Pope Leo’s papacy. It was there urging us on under the blistering sun on Sunday, during a procession to the Holy Door in St. Peter’s Basilica with 1,300 pilgrims. And I saw it in the faces of about a dozen international LGBTQ pilgrims who unexpectedly showed up for Mass for our Outreach pilgrims, celebrated by Sam Sawyer, S.J., America’s editor-in chief, at the Oratory of St. Francis Xavier, when they were told, “Of course you can join us!”
For me, the Holy Spirit was there mostly in joy. In the story of Zacchaeus, from Luke’s Gospel, which I reflected on during the prayer service, we read that when Jesus announces that he will dine at Zacchaeus’s house that night, a public sign of welcome, Zacchaeus welcomes Jesus “with joy” (Lk 19:1-10). Joy is the response of any person, any group or any community who has felt left out and finally feels a wonderful new feeling: welcome.
