Accompanying LGBTQ+ People is An Act of Trust

We weren’t even thirty minutes into a hike when I had to stop everyone. Someone was unsteady on their feet because, sure enough, they hadn’t followed my advice and skipped breakfast. This wasn’t the first time. People often didn’t bring enough water or forgot extra layers, and it would invariably fall on me and the people I was hiking with to support our fellow travelers. For years, moments like these made it so difficult to hike with friends; I felt personally responsible for their wellbeing and was terrified of ending up in an emergency situation. But then I realized it wasn’t my job to control someone’s decisions. It was far more important that I relished my time with my friends. It’s the same with our spiritual life.

I notice when it comes to people who identify as LGBTQ, some Catholics treat them with a similar exasperation that I had toward my fellow hikers. But whether it’s a hiking companion or a fellow church member, it’s tiring to be responsible for someone else’s actions. The answer is accompaniment, a balance between too much concern for others and total indifference, and we can only accompany if we trust that we are just one part of God’s work in someone’s life. Accompaniment involves a profound respect for how someone follows their conscience, a hope in how God works through our attempts to follow him, and a belief that our presence in someone’s life is a gift. 

Conscience is often described in very external terms. While some may think of a ‘well-formed conscience’ as something shaped entirely by external rules or education, the church speaks of it as the voice of God echoing in the depths of our hearts. When the Catholic Church speaks on matters of morality, it’s done to make it easier to hear the voice of God already within us and know how best to act. But we know that there is tension here. No matter what we do, we will inevitably encounter decisions where our understanding of God’s will is as obscure as a church after a good incensing. We know God’s will is there; it’s just hard to see.

It’s, therefore, not uncommon to fear that we’ve acted or might act contrary to God’s will, but Thomas Merton wrote a prayer that tackled these exact fears. He famously wrote,

The fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you…And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road.

It is enough to want to follow God and to try to follow him. He doesn’t expect us to always show up to the hike of our spiritual life perfectly prepared; he’s okay with lending us a snack when needed. And it is precisely in our attempts to follow God that we learn how to follow him and give him the chance to work.

These realities are no less true for those Catholics who identify as LGBTQ. For myself and many others, the decision to come out developed out of prayer, conversation, and discernment. I chose to come out not in spite of my conscience but precisely because of it. I believed that the voice of God echoing deep within my soul was inviting me to something more, but I also resonated with Merton—I might not be exactly on the path. I also know that Catholics who push against my decision to come out do so from a place of genuine concern for my good. Despite these opposite starting points, both situations please God because, as Merton says, they come from a place of genuinely trying to please God.

The reality that two people, honestly following God, have come to opposite conclusions does not mean they are at an impasse. It means both are witnesses to the work of the Holy Spirit in each other’s lives, and that is sacred. Trying to convince someone to act contrary to a firm conviction is unhelpful. I’ve found that the best relationships I’ve maintained with fellow Catholics are ones where we’ve discussed and acknowledged just that. We recognize that we likely will never convince the other of our viewpoint on the issue and give the other permission to share if we’re ever crossing that boundary.

This delineation does not prevent us from speaking truth into each other’s lives for two reasons. First, there are so many ways that we can talk about our faith and share life. Second, the decision to come out or uphold the Catholic Church’s teaching on homosexuality is an end decision that developed after significant time and prayer—it’s not a starting point. Walking alongside each other to see the fruit of each decision is far more helpful. Where is there life? Where is there joy? Where is God showing up? I don’t need someone looking at me exasperated; I want a fellow traveler who will help me help me evaluate if I am on the right path. I need accompaniment.

You are not solely responsible for how someone responds to their conscience. You are responsible for how you respond to those decisions. Catholics, I know it’s hard to see a loved one come out and make choices that feel so antithetical to the faith. LGBTQ people, I know it’s hard to feel rejection from those close to you. But we can still journey together and see how the Holy Spirit continues to show up. Let’s stay in the messy middle because when we do, we are living out a deep trust that God’s providence is working in our lives and that this friendship is sacred and part of His plan that will lead both of us closer to him.

Photo by Hem Poudyal on Unsplash