Courage Is Painful

“They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead, but they were at peace.” (Wisdom 3:2-3)

On May 5, the Final Synodal Report for Group 9 was released. Though it did not focus entirely on same-sex attraction and identity, I will address the parts that do. Three words were used to describe those served by the Courage apostolate and the apostolate itself: “lonely,” “depressed,” and “hidden.” These words may seem negative at first glance, especially when seen through the eyes of the foolish. They describe us, whom the apostolate serves, as dead in a way; and I do not doubt that it may appear that way to them.

But appearances can be deceiving. For those of us who have chosen this path, the truth is different. The life we who live with same-sex attraction and follow the teachings of the Church are invited to embrace is a life of sacrifice that can be joyful. “As the character of man is, Aristotle once said, so do things seem to him” (Fr. Matthew Kauth, The Imitation of St. Joseph).

Fr. James B. Lloyd, C.S.P., one of the chaplains of the apostolate in New York City, who passed away at age 103, was known to ask prospective members, “Are you ready to suffer?” Fr. Benedict Groeschel, C.F.R., wrote in the introduction to The Homosexual Person, from Courage founder Fr. John Harvey, O.S.F.S., “True love has to be tough at times because it seeks something for the Beloved that is beyond appearances and far more radical than the needs and hungers of the passing moment.” Likewise, Fr. Harvey stated that a life of “prayer and the practice of an ascetical plan of life” is essential for our salvation. This is the reality that those of us who choose to join Courage say yes to.

Courage is the apostolate in the Church for those of us who experience same-sex attraction and choose to follow the teachings of the Church. We bravely choose this rather than be led by our feelings and the lie that they define us. This apostolate has quietly served our community for more than 40 years, helping us pursue holiness by living the five goals and 12 steps of Courage, available on our website, Couragerc.org. Pope Leo recently expressed his support for the apostolate and our way of life, a life of sacrificial formation.

Life is a formation for eternity. The time we spend here on earth is a blip on the radar compared to the unimaginable vastness of the eternity our souls, and eventually our bodies, will live in. Without this understanding, the struggles of life seem to be something to be pushed back against and eased at all costs.

This understanding explains much of the false compassion and relativism that have permeated society and the Church regarding sexuality. It also explains the mentality behind the comments made about Courage and its members in the document. It betrays reality, which is clearly stated in both the Old and New Testaments: “The life of man upon earth is a warfare, and his days are like the days of a hireling. As a servant longeth for the shade, as the hireling looketh for the end of his work” (Job 7:1-2). “And he said to all, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me’” (Luke 9:23).

A cross is a tool of torture, plain and simple. It was created only to slowly, painfully kill. There is no comfort or goodness in it. Warfare—both at the time the books of the Bible were written and today—is brutal, bloody, dismembering, and psychologically scarring. There is nothing that says our brief time on earth as disciples should be cushy and comfy. That is a lie of the enemy whispered by many well-meaning souls, including those quoted in this document.

We who experience same-sex attraction have the clear words of Scripture to guide us in knowing that our desires do not match up with how we are called to live as followers of Christ. So, we have two choices: follow the narrow path laid out for us or follow those who, through this synodal document, would tickle our ears and continue the rotten work of Fr. James Martin and his cohorts to lead us astray under the guise of compassion, understanding, and mercy.

The reference to reparative therapy in the synodal report is not accurate. The person who put this in the report could have simply spoken to someone in the apostolate to learn that this was not true; instead, they chose to perpetuate a stereotype of our community. It seems likely that this was intended to slander and diminish our apostolate.

As I recently wrote in an article for Crisis, “Thank God for Reparative Therapy,” Courage does not promote therapy of any kind but follows a model of accompaniment. As I also said in that article, therapy has done a lot of good in my life. So, while Courage does not endorse it, I wholeheartedly and unashamedly do.

Lonely. This is a fact of life for many who experience same-sex attraction both inside and outside the apostolate. The loneliness that we experience is twofold. Firstly, this comes from an awareness that we are different from the majority of men and women in society. It is not just our attractions that make us different but also the underlying psychological wounds that many, if not most of us, carry. One of the priests associated with Courage once said to me that he had no idea he was going to encounter so much mental illness when he became a chaplain. This is not often spoken of, which is unfortunate; but it is a reality.

Outside of sexual activity, many of us do not know how to interact with people of the same sex in healthy, mature ways. This creates loneliness. The other aspect of our loneliness comes because we have made a choice not to get involved in same-sex romantic relationships. While we do have friends and family, not having a loving husband or wife leaves a gap in our lives—a gap that Jesus invites us to join to the loneliness He suffered not only from being away from Our Father and the Holy Spirit but also in abstaining from physical relationships while here with us.

So, in our loneliness, we can draw closer to Christ and join our suffering to His. I do not say this in any way to diminish the pain of our loneliness but, rather, to remind myself and others that we do have options in how we live it and what we do with our pain.

The second word was depressed. I do not deny that depression is a problem for many in the Courage apostolate. I would argue that the psychological condition of depression is a problem for just as many who embrace LGBTQ+ identities. Having lived as a gay man for 10 years—and having worked in the gayest part of what has become a very gay-affirming city, Washington, D.C., for more than 30 years—I can attest to the truth of this. Most of the gay people I have encountered are either on psychiatric medication or self-medicate with alcohol, drugs, or other addictive behaviors.

The same could be said for many opposite-sex attracted people. If I took a group of women and asked how many felt depressed or lonely and the number was, say, 10 percent, would that mean women as a category of people are depressed? No. People who experience same-sex attraction have more mental health issues in general, as has been shown in studies available on the American Psychiatric Association’s website, whether part of Courage or not.

There is also the reality that many live with depression without realizing it and have grown used to it. They may not recognize the depression because so many people around them exhibit the same behaviors as they do, making it seem normal. Again, this is a cross we are invited to carry. It is seen as unfair only by those, like myself sometimes, who lose sight of the formative nature of life on earth. Depression can be treated if we allow ourselves to be treated. If not, we will suffer—but not because we can’t choose to see it and live with it differently.

The depression many of us in Courage deal with is not caused by following the invitation to chastity but by not fully embracing it along with the five goals and 12 steps. Many of us do not have a deep spiritual life or chaste friends of the same sex. We do not surrender to Christ, take moral inventories, and let go of resentments. These are very challenging things to engage in, but it was the unwillingness to seek out help from other people and do the hard work necessary—not my efforts to live a chaste, pure life— that caused much of my depression.

Without an ever-deepening relationship with Christ and His Church—and friends to experience that relationship through—most people end up depressed, gay or straight, inside or outside Courage. Depression, for me and many others, comes through straddling the line between chastity and unchastity.

The third word is hidden. It’s funny to me that the apostolate’s somewhat secretive nature is presented as something brought on by the way the apostolate invites us to live rather than by the very ideas and language of those who brought this document together. It’s enough that society sees us as self-hating homosexuals, but to have our own Church speak of us the way it does by releasing this document to the public does push many of us into the shadows.

Courage is also hidden to protect the anonymity of those in the apostolate who, for their own reasons, do not choose to make this part of their lives public. This is nothing to be ashamed of. God spoke not in the fire nor the earthquake but in the still, silent voice that is barely noticed. This is the way of the apostolate. To serve us who need this most, they must tread lightly and depend on the Holy Spirit to lead those who want what they have to offer.

Lonely like Jesus. Depression is a challenge and a cross to bear. Hidden to serve. Three words intended to shame and demean, but instead they shine a light on the great warriors for Christ that we in the apostolate have the opportunity to become. Let us embrace these parts of our crosses rather than boo-hoo over them, as those who put this document together might have thought we would. May we kiss the crosses of our loneliness, depression, and hiddenness, as Christ kissed His, as opportunities to become the saints our Church and the world she is the heart of need us to be.

The Church is not here to call us, walk with us, or invite us to an easy life. The Church is here to walk with us into the greatness of being divinized; and, for all of us, that includes varying degrees of difficulty. Some children are born perfectly healthy, some children are born with physical defects, and some children are born and live only 20 minutes. Some marriages are easier than others. Some friendships are easier than others. These varying degrees of difficulty do not indicate that people shouldn’t have been born, shouldn’t have been married, or shouldn’t have had friends; it just means that for the people whose situations are more difficult, they are called to greater sacrifice and greater difficulty involved with that sacrifice.

This is the message the Church should be putting forth, not a message of turning our cross into a pleasure. Living with same-sex attraction and denying myself the physical and emotional pleasures that I would like is very difficult. I wish I didn’t have to carry that cross sometimes. But, thank God, I have priests around me who have discouraged me from taking the easier path and have walked with me on the more difficult one.

“Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain” (Psalm 127:1).

Life is not tiptoeing through the tulips. It isn’t rainbows and sparkles and gummy bears. It is often a trudge. The death to self, which all of us who are disciples of Christ are called to, is truly death; it is not a metaphor. It is an interior death that is often unpleasant if not painful. If seen properly as a time of formation for eternity with Jesus, God building our house and watching over our city, then the trudge becomes worth it and can even become a joy. If not, then it becomes what the people who described Courage in the report describe it as.

This isn’t the fault of the apostolate or the pursuit of a chaste life but of those who choose to experience it that way and the priests, religious, and lay people who encourage this distorted understanding. The greatest saints experienced sadness, loneliness, and a sense of hiddenness at times in their lives. They didn’t wallow in their sadness, allowing it to become depression. They didn’t turn to disordered pleasures. They didn’t turn away from the Church. They embraced their cross. We who choose to join Courage choose the same.