What is inclusivity?
- Justin
- Apr 15, 2024
- 5 min read
Updated: Mar 8
I know, I’m gonna get the “Anti-Woke Police” called on me with this question because some Catholic circles really push back when I bring up inclusivity. The general response emphasizes the need for equality and questions why we’d give certain populations special treatment. But I don’t believe that this really is the concern. After all, the Catholic Church already practices inclusivity.
I was recently at Holy Thursday mass, where multiple priests celebrated. One of the priests used a walker and had two servers on either side as he processed in. While the altar was up several steps from where the pews were, I didn’t think much of it, especially because (being only just in time) I was relegated to the very last pew and didn’t have much of a view.
When we got to the Eucharistic Prayer, the priests took turns reading various parts, as normal, but at one point, there was a lengthy pause that didn’t typically coincide with a brief moment of silent prayer, so I looked up. I could see that same priest off to the side and a couple of servers shuffling around the altar. While there appeared to be a ramp up to where the celebrants sat, there was one final step to the altar, and between that and the number of priests, this celebrant remained near his seat.
The pause was because the servers were bringing over a copy of the sacramentary (where the prayers are read from) and a microphone so he could participate in the service, just like the other priests. His mobility limitations didn’t diminish his faculties as a priest, and his engagement in the sacrament was wanted and needed. Now, you could call this special treatment, but isn’t this simply providing what he needed to be a part of the worshiping community?
Of course, Catholic inclusion isn’t limited to this instance; it is institutionalized and so ingrained into our community that we hardly notice it. There are obvious things like designated parking spots and elevators, but what about the work of food banks, ministers who bring communion to the homebound, crisis pregnancy centers, RCIA, or Sunday school? Each of these provides “special treatment” to a specific population to meet particular needs, and these help include these populations in the church and society at large.
Now, these instances seem straightforward. But bring up the topic of LGBT individuals, and the conversation suddenly gets heated. So, let’s focus on a specific population that isn’t as controversial. How is the church working to include and support people with same-sex attractions or gender dysphoria who agree with the church’s teachings? These people aren’t looking to change teachings and are already in our pews and ministries. What does it look like to engage with this population?
Some of you might be thinking of organizations like Eden Invitation or Courage, noting that these groups are reaching out and providing a space for those people. And you’d be right. But just because you know a non-profit working in that area doesn’t mean you won’t have to engage with it. You might have a food bank that you never volunteer at in your church, but that doesn’t prevent you from meeting someone on the street asking for money or a meal. You might never work at a crisis pregnancy center, but what do you do when your friend comes to you saying her unpartnered teen is unexpectedly pregnant? You might not need to consider how Catholics with same-sex attraction feel in the church, but what happens when your brother comes out to you?
Recognizing that the Catholic church could do better when talking about homosexuality or gender dysphoria would have far-reaching consequences within the church for good. It would promote empathy and compassion on a level that is often missing in public discussions on sensitive topics. This lack of sensitivity is something I’ve heard numerous Catholics lament through the years. These conversations weren’t that the Catholic church should stop tackling tough topics, but it was a hope that leaders would consider who is listening.
I’ve spoken with women who have had an abortion and now regret that decision and agree with Catholicism’s stance on life. Yet they sometimes feel demonized by homilies on the topic or how it’s preached brings up old wounds. I’ve heard people who have been single for years looking for a partner feel isolated and unseen in homilies about vocations. I’ve heard people say there aren’t enough conversations about the vocation of singlehood. What do you do when you feel called to marriage but don’t know if you’ll ever be married? There is space within the church’s teaching to love better and be more inclusive.
You might be thinking that to consider the needs of a “small” group of individuals isn’t in line with Catholicism—and if you think that, you’d be wrong. It’s profoundly Catholic, and there are actually more paragraphs in the Catechism devoted to this idea than the topic of homosexuality. The Catholic Church calls this idea the preferential option for the poor, which is exactly what it sounds like—that there is a demand from the church to engage with those in need. The Catechism goes so far as to say it is part of her constant tradition (CCC 2444). And lest we think that the church is only talking about material poverty, it goes on to say:
It extends not only to material poverty but also to the many forms of cultural and religious poverty…Hence, those who are oppressed by poverty are the object of a preferential love on the part of the church, which, since her origin and in spite of the failings of many of her members, has not ceased to work for their relief, defense, and liberation through numerous works of charity which remain indispensable always and everywhere…When we attend to the needs of those in want, we give them what is theirs, not ours (CCC 2444, 2448, & 2446)
To serve people well, we must first understand their needs; we must ask and listen and “give them what is theirs.” From my perspective, I want the church to recognize that I exist, that what I experience is real, and that (even though I tried) I can’t change it. I want the church to know that I still love Jesus, and I still love the church, and I want to be part of this community. But what does inclusion look like for Catholics with same-sex attractions or gender dysphoria who agree with the church? I don’t know, and I can’t answer for them, but you can ask.
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