In southern Texas when I was a kid in the 1970s, Catholics were
the liberals. That went for both their lifestyle and their
politics. They were the ones who could dance and drink, while we
Southern Baptists were taught that those activities were sins or
would lead to sins (I forget which). Sure, Catholics weren't
supposed to use contraceptives, even within marriage, but that
edict was disregarded.
Where I grew up, Catholics were mostly Mexican-American;
Mexican-Americans voted for Democrats; and Democrats were liberals.
Their church opposed the death penalty and just about every use of
military force. They emphasized helping the poor. For us Southern
Baptists, poverty only showed that capitalism was working properly
by punishing the indolent.
If I had thought much about gay issues back then, Catholics
would have seemed liberal on this too. In its treatment of the
topic "Homosexuality," the New Catholic Encyclopedia,
published in 1967, was downright enlightened for its time.
Catholicism recognized homosexuality as an orientation, a
"proclivity" that "develops gradually over many years as a result
of complex influences not under the control of the potential
homosexual."
Southern Baptists, to this day, see in homosexuality not an
unchosen "orientation" but only a wicked and vile choice by lustful
sinners.
The New Catholic Encyclopedia, reflecting church
teaching, debunked several then-dominant myths about homosexuals.
"There is no evidence that [the homosexual's] sexual drive, in
itself, is more intense than that of heterosexuals," it declared.
The homosexual "is rarely an alcoholic or a threat to immature
children."
It criticized "harsh and vengeful religious writings" against
gays and urged a pastoral counseling approach characterized by
"compassionate leniency."
I don't want to paint too bright a picture. Catholicism
continued to regard homosexual acts as "a grave transgression of
the divine will" and "a sterile love of self, disguised in apparent
love for another." The only solution for the homosexual was
life-long chastity.
Still, all of this was much more tolerant than anything my
religion taught. Southern Baptists may have invented the slogan,
"Love the sinner, hate the sin," but most often they seem to
despise both. (Actually, we had a youth minister who molested boys
in his charge; his slogan must have been, "Hate the sinner, love
the sin.") By comparison to my church, Catholicism seemed rational,
literate, and civilized. It was receptive to new learning about
homosexuality. On the eve of John Paul II's papacy, in 1978, there
was reason for hope.
At the end of his reign, that hope is all but gone. The
reactionary wing of the Catholic Church has gotten stronger. A new
Catholic traditionalist movement in the United States, for example,
focuses much of its energy on blaming gays for the Catholic priest
scandal and on fighting equality for gay people. Politically,
Catholic traditionalists are aligning themselves with my old
Southern Baptists and with other conservative Christian sects to
form a Religio-Republican complex.
By word and deed, the Pope aided this regression. Under John
Paul II's guidance, the Catholic Church backed away somewhat from
its previous view that homosexual orientation was morally
blameless. The Vatican's Congregation on the Doctrine of the Faith,
under Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger [now Pope Benedict XVI], claimed
that even the homosexual "inclination" came close to "an intrinsic
moral evil."
In 1986, with John Paul II's approval, a tenured professor at
Catholic University was barred from teaching theology because of
his belief that homosexual acts within a loving relationship could
"in a certain sense be objectively morally acceptable." That same
year the archbishop of Seattle was stripped of his authority on gay
issues after he allowed Dignity, a gay Catholic group, to hold Mass
in his cathedral. The Vatican tried to have a World Pride festival
barred from Rome in 2000, the year of the church's Grand
Jubilee.
While the Pope was rightly praised for reaching out to other
religious faiths, his ecumenism had its limits. Last year he warned
that the selection of the openly gay Gene Robinson as a bishop of
the American Episcopal Church would create "new and serious
difficulties ... on the path to unity."
On AIDS, the Pope sometimes had kind words, saying "God loves
you all, without distinction," to AIDS patients during a trip to
San Francisco in 1987. But he steadfastly opposed practical efforts
to stop the spread of the disease, including safe-sex education and
all use of condoms.
On the subject of gay marriage, John Paul II was especially
harsh. In 1994, he called it "a serious threat to the future of the
family and society itself." Catholic politicians who disagreed were
"gravely immoral." In a book released in February, he denounced gay
marriage as "perhaps part of a new ideology of evil, perhaps more
insidious and hidden, which attempts to pit human rights against
the family and against man."
The Pope is the most powerful single religious leader in the
world. Because he influenced the beliefs and practices of hundreds
of millions of people, he did more harm to the rights and equality
of gay people than any other person.
So all of the hagiographic tributes to John Paul II - claiming
that he helped free Eastern Europe from Soviet domination, that he
had "rock star" charisma - fell flat to me. I was deeply alienated
from the mourning throngs I saw on television. The only thing that
could make me miss him is the fear that his successor might be even
worse.