This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. These stories have as their main character a sexually active gay teenager. If this is offensive to you, or if it is illegal in your area, or if you are under age, please leave now.
Constructive criticism is welcome on my e-mail.
Dermot Chapter 11, Theology
After his usual encounters with nurses and physicians on Wednesday morning, Dermot settled down to study Admiral Morison's admirable history of the American people. He was thus engaged when Dr. Rygalski stuck her head in.
"Hello, again, Dermot."
"Hi. I didn't expect you back. Did you forget something?"
"No. I just wanted to check something with you. You told me last Saturday that you were gay, right?"
"Yeah, right," Dermot said.
"Well, I overheard my little brother talking last night, and he used the word 'queer.' I thought gay people resented that word, but Jerry - that's my brother - said he was talking to a gay friend, and they were joking around, so it was okay. I wanted your take on that."
"It's not all that simple. Judging from the guys I know, some get real pissed off if they hear that word, and some don't. It kind of depends. Some of the guys I've dealt with use it about themselves when they're feeling sorry for themselves, or guilty, or something. But some gays use it to joke around with, among ourselves, you know. What's really objectionable is to have some redneck yell that word at you, when you know he means it as an insult. Kind of like the word 'nigger.' I knew a couple of black guys at school who would call each other that when they were playing around, but I would never use it, 'cause I know they would think I was being insulting, you know, dissing them," Dermot explained.
"Okay, that makes sense," Dr. Rygalski assented.
"Is your brother gay?"
"No way! Or, if he is, there's going to be a really ticked off little girl he's been feeling up lately," she chuckled, "but he has a friend who is. They've been friends since grammar school. That's who he was talking to on the phone."
"Good. I'm glad they are still friends," Dermot said with a sigh.
"You think gays and straight guys can be friends, then?"
"I hope so. There are a lot more of them than of us. All I want is for us all to get along without fighting over it," Dermot stated wistfully.
"Sounds reasonable to me," Dr. Rygalski said. "I guess my little brother was right this time. I told you we came out about even."
"Go, little brother!" Dermot yelled, pumping his good arm.
"If you two ever got together, the world would never be the same again," the doctor said, taking her leave.
Well, whatever the situation, he had obviously not ticked off Dr. Rygalski. Maybe she really was too busy to take him on as a counselor, and Dr. Lanier seemed to be working out now. As he thought about that, his own words came back to settle in Dermot's consciousness. All I want is for all of us to get along without fighting. Could he and the Lyles get along without fighting over their religion? This was a lot more important than the next chapter of American history. Think! How can we deal with this? What is it that I dislike so much? Well, that priest at St. Pius X. But is he all there is to the Catholic Church? Somehow I have the idea that Catholics are anti-gay, and that priest sure fills the bill. ... but the Lyles don't, and they're Catholic, too.
Dermot's thoughts wandered over his previous experiences of churches. When his mother was alive, they were Catholic. His mother was very religious, come to think of it. She always said prayers before meals and at bedtime. Dermot could remember some of her prayers: "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep ...." Something like that. And while she was sick, Mom prayed a lot. But when she died, things changed. Dad was real mad at God about Mom dying. Dermot could remember him roaming the house, crying, and swearing at God. His dad drank too much after that, too. Trying to forget? Maybe. And then, at the funeral, Dad argued with the priest. Was it the same priest? Dermot could not remember, and did not know what the argument was about. Did it matter any more? But from that time on, neither his dad nor he went to church. Dermot had been with some other boys, practicing to be an altar server, but that was all off. And at the end of the school year, he was sent to another school, and that was the end of his Catholic experience. For two years, he and his dad lived in the same house, but they were strangers. It was like they were waiting for something. For what? For Mom to return? For Dad to snap out of it? Dad muttered and drank too much in the evenings, and said all kinds of nasty things about the priest and the Church. Dermot could remember some of those words, too. He had used them himself.
Then, when Dad went into the army, and he went to live with Uncle Steve and Aunt Florie, they went to a really different church. Dermot could not remember all the name, but it had apostolic and holiness and something else in it. The males had to dress up in suits, and Aunt Florie and Alice had to wear dresses, no jeans or any other kind of pants. And it wasn't a proper church, but just what used to be a fish monger's place. You could still smell the fishiness. There was a woman with an upright piano, who led the singing in a high, scratchy voice. But the person Dermot remembered most was the preacher. A big man, like a football player, with a deep voice. He would begin preaching in a normal voice, but when he got into it, he would start kind of chanting. You could hear his voice going up and down, up and down. Once Dermot found himself swinging his head in time with the chanting, and Zach saw him and told Uncle Steve, and Dermot got a beating for making fun of the preacher when they got home. When he really got into it, the preacher would start yelling, but still in that sing-songy kind of rhythm. Then others in the small congregation would start yelling back. 'Amens' would bounce off the walls. Once, everyone seems to really get worked up, and everyone was yelling at once, and a couple of the women and children started rolling on the floor. They said it was the Holy Spirit, but that bothered Dermot. It bothered him because he saw something kind of like it when he and Danny, the boy he thought was his boyfriend, snuck into a different kind of meeting once. He did not know what the group was called, or what the meeting was supposed to be about, but they decided to sneak in because Uncle Steve was going, and told them they were to stay away. Same thing. A guy got up and started talking, then he got excited, and he started yelling, and soon everyone in the room was yelling, too. Except that sure wasn't the Holy Spirit. There was nothing holy about it. They were yelling about how the 'niggers' were taking over, and were the cause of all the troubles. What troubles, Dermot was not sure.
But that's when Dermot decided all the churches were a load of shit. He had to go with Uncle Steve and Aunt Florie, but he just sat there, and told himself how stupid these people were.
He could not see Mr. Lyle or Lando or Mark in any of those scenarios. I guess, he told himself, I need to find out more about how they see things before I can make up my mind.
About the time he reached this conclusion, he heard footsteps approaching, and thought at first it was Mrs. Harper. However, the woman who entered was a stranger. Nice looking. Probably in her forties. Looked kind of expensive, somehow.
"Hello, Dermot. I'm Sandy Lyle. I believe my husband told you I'd be stopping by. I'm happy to make your acquaintance. My boys have spoken about you quite a bit lately."
"Oh, yes. Hello, Mrs. Lyle. Yes, Mr. Lyle did say you'd be stopping by. Thank you. I appreciate all your family have done for me," Dermot said, too quickly, nervously.
"How are you getting along? Are they taking good care of you here at the hospital?"
"Yes, ma'am. Dr. Shipley has been really great. I seem to be healing the way they want me to. Everyone has been wonderful," he over-reacted.
"Hmmm. Seems to me I heard Lando speak of a nurse you were not all that fond of," Mrs. Lyle commented.
Dermot colored. Caught. "Um, ah, yeah, I guess that's right."
"Dermot, don't feel you have to pretend with me. I do talk with my husband and sons. I know everything has not been perfect."
"Sorry, Mrs. Lyle. I guess I over-reacted. I want things to go right. I want that a lot."
"But you have some reservations."
That was not a question, but a statement.
"Yes," Dermot conceded. "It's the church thing. I know you guys are Catholic, and I had some bad experiences with Catholics. I'm sorry."
"Well, I'm sorry you had some bad experiences. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I don't know. I guess I feel really rejected because I'm gay," Dermot admitted.
"I can understand that. When Lando came to the realization he was gay a few years ago, we had to work through this. I admit, I was very uncomfortable with it at first, but it seems to be working out. So far, anyway. Lando talked to Father Schiller about the religious side of his situation."
"Oh, yeah. He mentioned that. Well, I pretty much blew it there. I'm afraid I was not very nice to your priest when he came around," Dermot confessed.
"I'm sure Father Schiller would be willing to talk to you. I can't guarantee that will solve all your difficulties, of course," Sandy Lyle encouraged him. There was a slight pause, then she added, "I believe he does hospital rounds on Wednesdays. Shall I see whether he's available?"
Dermot sighed. Might as well talk to the guy. I've got to figure out this Catholic angle, or else blow it with Lando. "Yeah. I ain't going anywhere."
"Thank you, Dermot. I'll see what I can do," Mrs. Lyle said, as she rose to leave.
About twenty minutes later, Father Schiller poked his head in Dermot's room. "Hello, Dermot. May I come in?"
"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry I've been shitty ... um, I mean rude, to you."
"You told me when we talked two weeks ago that you had been treated unkindly by another priest, so I kind of understand. But Mrs. Lyle said you wanted to see me now. Is that so?"
"Well, not exactly," Dermot said, being ruthlessly honest. "I want to clear up some questions I have about the Lyles, and they involve the Catholic Church. Otherwise, I wouldn't want to see you."
"I see. Well then, let's get to those questions. What can I help you with?"
"It's like this," Dermot began, then proceeded to explain to the priest his own circumstances, the offer from Mr. Lyle to take him in as a foster child, and the issue of whether he could be comfortable in a Catholic home. He repeated, in considerably more detail, his earlier account of his exchange with the pastor at St. Pius. "And that's why I hate you guys. And from all I hear, that guy is pretty typical of Catholics, but then Lando says he talked to you, and you said being gay was okay, or something. Anyway, I'm confused."
"First of all, Dermot, let me say how sorry I am that you had that very unpleasant experience. I can see how, after being rejected - thrown out - by your uncle, your experience with Father Seligmann was just another type of rejection. I know there's nothing I can say that will make that any less painful. But, maybe I can explain a few things that will allow you to understand how Father Seligmann and your friend Lando can be parts of the same Church."
"As you may know, it was only fairly recently that there was creditable evidence that homosexuality was a given condition rather than a choice. That makes an immense amount of difference. There are several threads which come together to explain the attitude of almost all Catholic theologians until very recently. One was the belief that sex had as its primary function the procreation of children. Another was the assumption that all people were naturally heterosexual. If these two positions are correct, then perhaps you can see where we would get the conclusion that homosexual activity, and in fact any kind of sexual activity outside marriage, was sinful."
"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly chose to be gay," Dermot objected.
"We realize that now. But our realization has only come very recently. And many older priests, and not only priests, have not accepted that new realization," Father Schiller said.
"Where does this 'unnatural and inherently disordered' bit some in?" Dermot asked. "I remember those words because they seemed to be such a weird way of saying anything."
"It was, I think, a very unfortunate choice of words used by the American bishops in their statement a few years back about homosexuality," the priest admitted. "Let me try to explain. If the natural purpose of sex is procreation, then the thinking is that any use of sex for any other purpose is unnatural, and if everyone is assumed to be naturally heterosexual, then being homosexual is contrary to the divine order of things, or inherently disordered. I see you ready to object, but let me continue. Note, I prefaced both my statements with 'if.' Those statements were pretty generally assumed to be true until some new light was shone on the issues during the past fifty years or so by science and psychology."
"Now, during the past half century, theologians have begun to seriously question both those assumptions. They have been helped by church historians, who have been digging around in the early history of the development of our thinking on these issues, and by psychologists, who have given us greater insight into the human psyche. Today, it is safe to say, the mind of the Church is seriously divided on many issues involving sexuality, not only homosexuality. Things are changing."
"So, you're telling me the Catholic Church is admitting it was wrong? I thought you guys claimed you were never wrong, or something," Dermot asked.
"Again, that's not a simple yes or no answer. Unlike some of the more fundamentalist denominations, we recognize a difference between the basic divine revelation of truth, which we believe is permanent, and the efforts of us humans to apply that divine law to everyday circumstances. That part can, and does, change."
"I don't understand. Don't you believe everything is written down in the Bible?" Dermot wanted to know.
"No. Not according to Catholic belief. We have always held that what Jesus left to his followers was not some writings, but the Church, the living body of believers. Some of those believers later wrote down what they believed, and that forms the New Testament, or the Christian scriptures. But the Church came first, and the Church decided which writings were inspired by God, and were to be included in the New Testament, and the Church claims an authority independent of the written scriptures," the priest stated.
"I don't like this 'authority' thing. What makes you think you can tell me what to do?" Dermot demanded.
"You must remember that membership in the Church is voluntary. Either someone joins the Church, or else one is born into her, and decides to remain a member. Either implicitly or explicitly, the members agree to accept the authority of the Church to decide on matters concerning our faith. We believe, of course, that what we teach as divine law is indeed the eternal word of God, and valid objectively for all humanity, but we do not claim the right to impose that on anyone against his or her will. And, as I said earlier, we do not say that all our regulations, what we call canon law, is divinely inspired."
"You lost me again. What is and what is not divinely inspired?"
"Okay. There are certain basic things about the nature of God, the nature of humanity, and the proper relations between them, which we believe are revealed to us by God himself. These things we call divine law, or divine revelation. These are the basics. Such things as the Trinity, you know, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And God created all that is. And God is good. And humans were created in the image and likeness of God, and have an immortal soul, and therefore are different in kind from the beasts, and worthy of respect. That's the so-called Golden Rule, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,' or, put another way, 'Love thy neighbor as thyself.' These things we believe come from God, are basic, and cannot be changed. But that leaves us a lot of leeway in applying these basic beliefs to our everyday lives. To do that, God left us our reason and the authority He vested in His Church. If He laid everything out in total detail, there would be no room for free will, and that freedom is one of the most precious gifts of God. The problem there is that we humans are far from perfect. We sometimes make the wrong choices. Even good people sometimes do not make the right decisions, maybe because they did not have all the information they needed. That's what I think is the case with the traditional teachings about homosexuality. We did not correctly understand sexuality in general, and we did not understand that some people are naturally homosexual."
"That's all very theoretical. How can anyone know what you think comes from God, and what is just human attempts to apply that, as you put it?" Dermot asked.
"If you take the New Testament, and take those things which are plain, clear, and reasonable, and add to that the traditional statements of faith called the Apostles Creed and the Nicene Creed, and further add the doctrinal decisions of general or ecumenical councils, I think that will pretty much cover the divine revelation, as I understand it," Father Schiller advised.
"Just the New Testament? What about the Old Testament? I remember the preacher at my uncle's church quoting Leviticus, I think it was, or Deuteronomy, or maybe both, when he said homosexuality was an abomination before the Lord," Dermot insisted.
"Yes, the term 'abomination' is found in Leviticus in reference to one male lying with another. This has been the subject of many learned articles and discussions among theologians and linguists. For our purposes, let's just say that is part of what is known as the 'holiness code' for ancient Hebrews, which played a role in those times much like canon law today. It was an attempt to apply the basic principles of divine law to the Hebrew people in their historical circumstances. But we Catholics are a New Testament people. We believe that all that was permanent in the Mosaic law was repeated in the Gospels, where, for example, Jesus says to keep the ten commandments. But, if you look at the book called the Acts of the Apostles, or what some people just call Acts, you will find an account of what we call the Council of Jerusalem in chapter 15. There, the early Church decided that the Mosaic law did not apply to Christians. They were talking about dietary matters, and being circumcised, but the decision applies to the entire holiness code. And St. Paul makes the same point over and over in his letters. The coming of the Christ freed us from the limitations of the Mosaic law. So, no matter how much or how little Leviticus applied to the Hebrews of ancient times, it has no applicability to Catholics today."
"I never heard that way of looking at things before," Dermot admitted. "Are you sure you're telling me what the Catholic Church says, or just what you say?"
"I told you, Dermot, there is much disagreement within the Church today on most issues dealing with sexuality. What I'm telling you is what I told Lando. It is completely within the bounds of acceptable Catholic theology, but not all Catholic theologians, much less priests or lay persons, would agree, especially not those more influenced by the older thinking, the thinking based on those two 'ifs' I mentioned earlier."
"Okay, but what about these councils you talked about? Where do they get the right to tell people what to do?"
"I wish you would not put it that way, Dermot. It's not so much a matter of ordering people around as trying to interpret the divine revelation in a way that makes sense to each stage of human development. If you look at that same passage in Acts, you will find that, when the early Church leaders reached a decision at Jerusalem, they wrote to the Christians at Antioch giving them the results of their deliberations, and justified their decision by saying 'the Holy Spirit and we have decided' that the Mosaic law did not apply. In the same way, we believe that, whenever there is a council of the whole Church, it is guided by the Holy Spirit, so that it will make the right decision as far as the basics are concerned. That's what I referred to before as the doctrinal decisions of the councils. About a hundred and fifty years ago, a very wise man named John Henry Newman wrote a work called ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE. In it, he says that God arranges things so we come to understand some aspect of the divine revelation only when humans are prepared to accept and make use of it. Jesus did not sit down a write a book of theology. He gave us as much as we could handle given the conditions and the way people thought in the ancient Mediterranean world, but He also gave us a mechanism to adapt the basics contained in that teaching and develop it to suit changing circumstances. That mechanism is the Church. We don't reject any part of divine revelation, but we develop it in new ways to fit new circumstances."
"So, what you're telling me is that in our day there is a new understanding of homosexuality, and the Catholic Church is in the process of adapting to that new circumstance," Dermot mused.
"Precisely. Some people may not want to change anything, and some may think we are taking too long to make the adaptation, but we must be careful. We have nearly two thousand years of tradition to accommodate, so we cannot just decide we like a new idea and adopt it. We have to see how it fits into our entire understanding of God and humanity. That takes time, and it is sometimes painful. But, if - please note the word 'if' again - if one's sexuality is set by factors beyond the individual's control and choice, then there can be no sin involved in being homosexual. Sin always lies in choice, in making the wrong choice. Then, if sex is not primarily for the purpose of procreation in humans, that also opens up whole new avenues for theologians."
"A little more on that, please. Frankly, Father, if I can't have sex with the guy I love, then I don't really care whether you think it's natural or not," Dermot declared.
"It is often overlooked that the only sexual sin explicitly condemned in the Gospels is adultery," the priest commented. "And even then, Jesus told the woman caught in adultery that her sins were forgiven, but to sin no more. It is not clear that Our Lord thought sexual sins were all that important compared with some others, like taking advantage of the poor, or rejecting the grace of God. When you get to some of the epistles, there are references to general sins, like immorality or licentiousness, but what exactly St. Paul or anyone else had in mind with those general terms is open to question. St. Paul does categorize sodomy as a sin, along with whole lists of other things, some serious, some not so serious, so it's not clear how serious he thought that was, either. Besides, some theologians today say St. Paul made those statements in the belief that all men were naturally heterosexual, and therefore a homosexual act was acting against one's basic nature. There's that unnatural idea again. But the idea that the only proper or natural purpose of sex was procreation came, not from the Gospels or from St. Paul, but from Stoic philosophy. It was the dominant kind of ethical thought in the Mediterranean world at the time the early Church was working out its attempts to apply the basics to everyday life, and it seemed to offer something that would appeal to a wide variety of people, and so draw new converts into the Church, and be acceptable to the intellectuals of the time. However, today many theologians think that was a mistake. If we believe that humans are different in kind from mere beasts because we have an immortal soul, then that conclusion, drawn by ancient philosophers based, in part, on what seemed to apply to animals, needs rethinking. Many theologians today say that, in humans, the primary purpose of sex is the expression of love, with reproduction being secondary. If that is so, then sex which cannot result in reproduction is still completely justified, and even holy, as it may be a sign or partaking in the love God has for humanity. We have never had any objection to sex between two married people who were too old to have children, or who were sterile. We have not been consistent, but we have only recently noticed the inconsistencies. So, as I've said before, the thinking of the Church is in a state of flux on these topics."
"Does all this help you at all, Dermot?" Father Schiller asked.
"Well, I'm not sure. There's a lot there. I found out since I've been in the hospital that some things I thought were so, aren't. What I thought about the Catholic Church seems to fall into that category, too. I'm not sure I can go along with God and sin and all that, but at least I think I understand where Lando and his family are coming from. I need to think about these things more. There's more to it than I realized."
"All right. I'll leave you to think, then. If I can be of any further help, please let me know. And remember, the Church is a lot bigger than one priest, or even one theologian, or one bishop, or a whole passel of bishops. It's all of us," the priest emphasized.
"That's part of what I need to think about. Thank you for taking the time to explain it all for me," Dermot said.
"Good bye, Dermot."