Why Ministry to Gay People Might Not Be Working

“But is there a priest in the area who would support this?” There was a mixed consensus after that question, with some saying this was a grassroots effort and it wouldn’t matter, while others noted it would be nice to have a little credibility and have someone to say mass for the group eventually. I was on a call with a handful of Catholic guys from the East Coast who are all gay, trying to create something unusual: a regular, local gathering for LGBT Catholics. Imagine a Theology on Tap with a rainbow flag in the corner.

There is a scarcity of spaces like this within the United States Catholic Church. While organizations like Courage or Eden Invitation do have a social aspect, they often felt more like accountability groups, where I checked in on how gay I was the week before. The Church needs to provide more spaces that are truly focused on fostering a sense of community.

The key difference between the group these individuals are trying to establish and the larger, more popular SSA ministries in the Church is clear. Catholicism’s current approach to LGBT outreach prioritizes addressing the spiritual needs of individuals over their human needs. It’s not working. And the most pressing need in the Catholic context for this community is a sense of safety and belonging.

Most Catholic ministries to the queer community focus on education or healing. They often remind people of their inherent dignity, teach them how to pursue virtue or a relationship with Jesus. But I felt these spaces always came with a caveat. You are welcome as long as you are pursuing virtue in the right way. You are safe as long as you agree with Catholicism on these issues. You belong as long as you don’t date.

I was acutely aware of this during my time in college and then as a missionary when I’d participate in men’s nights (aka talks about purity). Surrounded by guys (many of whom I’d be sharing a room with later that evening since these were usually during training or mission trips), I’d wait apprehensively for my turn to share my “struggle” with purity in the small group. But in most instances, I found it easier to either remain vague about my attractions or just lie because I was terrified of how the guys would respond if I actually said, Hey, I like men.

Would they want me to sleep in a different room? Would they view me differently? Am I going to make them uncomfortable? Is this me identifying with sin by sharing that I’m attracted to men?

I believed it was more important for me to say the “right” thing than the thing that would have opened the door to connection and belonging. I didn’t open up because, in those circles, I felt unsafe. The Church emphasized my need for disinterested friendship but didn’t provide the framework for me to show up and build those friendships.

We can talk about inherent dignity, accompaniment, and pursuing virtue all we want around LGBT people, but if they don’t feel safe to open up and share their experience, then we’re just talking about people, not building relationships. But we can shift that experience when we start to listen.

There are countless LGBT people in the Church today looking for a place where they can share this part of themselves. It is part of the Catholic experience because The Church is universal; it encompasses all people, including LGBT individuals. Yes, we need particular apostolates for this community, like we have outreach groups for youth, college students, and married couples, but we must remember that the starting point must always be a connection. Because when life gets hard, the solution typically isn’t another bible study; sometimes, we just need to get a drink with a handful of people who understand our struggles this side of eternity.