Last month in Outreach, a L.G.B.T.Q. Catholic resource sponsored by America Media, I was invited to consider what we as a church might do between the two synod sessions. Turning to the L.G.B.T.Q. community, I raised up the roots and the value of “radically inclusive friendship” as a distinctive trademark of their community—especially when they welcome people exactly as they present themselves. I suggested that this form of openness might do the church good—both at the parish level and on the more global scale of a synod. I noted, in fact, that more and more parishes are posting on their websites and in their bulletins that in their parishes, “all are welcome.”
In that spirit, I proposed that we abandon two particular practices that are aimed at the L.G.B.T.Q. community: using the term “disordered” to reference same-sex attraction and firing Catholic educators for simply being married members of the L.G.B.T.Q. community.
I did not argue against either practice as such; rather, I suggested that as the church prepares for the next session of the synod in October 2024, we would all do well to recognize how counter-productive such practices are and how, as many of our hierarchy have noted, prudence suggests more constructive pathways for discussing our differences.
Here, I want to further my argument by recognizing how the synod itself sets a standard for Catholic discourse that we must continue to promote. Yet I want to take a look not at a contemporary synod, but rather at the distant past, to the so-called Council of Jerusalem described in Acts 15. That council offers, I believe, normative instruction for today’s church.
The Council of Jerusalem
Acts 15 begins with the contentious issue that prompts the Council of Jerusalem. Many were teaching: “Unless you are circumcised, according to the custom taught by Moses, you cannot be saved” (Acts 15:1). This claim prompts Paul and Barnabas to journey to Jerusalem to testify to the apostles and elders that many Gentiles had already converted to Christianity without becoming circumcised. This was not simply a matter of surgery; this was a question of whether the laws of Judaism were the laws of Christianity. Did Gentiles have to appropriate the religious practices of the Jews to become Christians? Could Gentiles become Christians at all?
These debates on ritual purity have some parallels with the debates about whether members of the L.G.B.T.Q. community can be welcomed as Christians. Those in the early Christian community who resisted the idea that Gentiles could be baptized thought of the Gentiles as “unclean.” And words like “unclean”—like “disordered”—cover a multitude of matters.
As soon as the council convenes by welcoming Paul and Barnabas, objections are raised: “The Gentiles must be circumcised and required to keep the law of Moses” (Acts 15:5). This declaration was followed by “much discussion.” Other translations talk about “much disputing” or “many debates.” One can only imagine what that discussion was like, but I suspect that one might have heard the descriptive “unclean” thrown around quite often—until Peter stands up.
When Peter stands, they all listen. He refers to an earlier experience of his (Acts 10:1-48) in which the Holy Spirit led him through a series of prayerful interventions that he, at first, actively resisted. He first went to the home of a Gentile, a centurion named Cornelius, who had been instructed by an angel to invite Peter.
The baptism of Cornelius
As Peter enters the house, he shares with Cornelius and his household his new understanding: “You yourselves know that it is unlawful for a Jew to associate with or to visit a Gentile; but God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean. So when I was sent for, I came without objection” (Acts 10:28-29). Cornelius informs him about the angel instructing him to invite Peter. Peter initiates his response: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him” (Acts 10:34-35).
After more comments, he concludes: “All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.” The Holy Spirit then descends on the household, and “the circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles.” (Acts 10:45). The chapter concludes, noting that since they all received the Holy Spirit, Peter then baptizes them.
Through the Council of Jerusalem, Peter’s testimony of his earlier experience with Cornelius effectively becomes the grounds that give warrant for Paul and Barnabas’s own accounts that the Gentiles may as such be baptized. After they each testify, James, the bishop of Jerusalem, stands, invokes the testimony of Peter regarding Cornelius and rules effectively to welcome the Gentiles.
Lessons for today
Can we not see in these two biblical narratives that we should follow Peter and not call anyone unclean, or for that matter disordered? Why, then, should we insist upon withholding the grace of God from those who call upon the name of Jesus?
I do not think that the present anxiety about recognizing the “gay” Catholic is unlike the first-century anxiety regarding the Gentiles becoming Christians. I think that when we prayerfully engage the Scriptures, we are brought to recognize that our fears and biases often place us at enmity with those who have the same faith and hope in the same Savior.
Certainly, many could go through these texts to find something as grounds against becoming more hospitable, but I think, in faith, we have to make the connection that Peter, James, Paul and Barnabas did.
We have to recognize, yet again, that human concerns regarding purity can invariably cloud our way of recognizing, through the Holy Spirit, the other, whether Gentile or gay, as a follower of Christ. By stopping the firings and the name-calling we might give the Holy Spirit the space to help us practice forms of hospitality and discourse that are truly Christian.
