Dusty Seats

Yesterday’s Gospel was the parable of the Prodigal Son. This is historically interpreted in the following way: no matter how much you sin, you can always return to God, who is welcoming you with open arms. This is a nice interpretation, but I am beginning to think Jesus had something far more personal in mind.

Here’s an alternate interpretation: the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church is the Father, and the LGBTQ+ community is the prodigal son.

Until Church leadership realizes that its role is to welcome the LGBTQ+ community back with open arms, fully and completely, the Church will remain irrelevant. Unless it changes its doctrine (which has changed before and can change again) to better include, embrace, and respect the decisions, autonomy, and freedom of LGBTQ+ individuals, it will continue to contract. Why? Because everybody who loves someone in the LGBTQ+ community will eventually leave the Church unless things change. This will soon be an entire generation.

Unless doctrine changes (along with the attitudes of homophobia and transphobia), the Church will continue to wither and die, eventually shrinking to the point where the only people ministered to are wealthy, white, and straight. Just like it used to be. And if you think that’s who it should be, you have to ask yourself if Jesus dined with people on the margins or the conservative Pharisees who upheld ancient doctrine that no longer complied with the changing world.

This song should be how the Church sings to the LGBTQ+ community (source: Genius):

“There is room for you here, it don’t matter how long you’ve been gone. I will always welcome you with a smile.”

“I wanna sit down and listen to you. Take your turn and share your unrefined song.”

“There are so many dusty seats at my table, and I made this one especially for you. So I’m gonna save it even if we’re never able to have us a sit-on-down and talk this whole thing through.”

“It hurts so bad when I see how I contributed o the empty seats around me. But somehow they’re exactly as they’re supposed to be.”

There is only one path forward to the not-so-holy Roman Catholic Church, and it’s one of apology, inclusion, and embrace. There is no more room left for othering. There is only room for togetherness.

And to make people feel truly welcome, you have to change.

Everything is Sacred

A four year old kissed his mother on the lips during mass yesterday. It was during the most sacred part, the consecration. I’ve been going to mass every weekend since I was a baby. The Catholic Church has been my home and I’ve come to believe what it teaches—generally. This was one of the most profound experiences I’ve witnessed in Church.

It made me rethink what we hold sacred and what we value. Why is a tree more important than a church pew? Why do we think God is present at church but not in the kitchen? Maybe doing the dishes is as sacred as mass if we allow it to be. I don’t know. I happen to think being aware of the craftsmanship of God means God is present.

Some people call it *finding God in all things*. I just want to treat more things like they matter. I want today to be sacred even if it doesn’t feel like it. I want to believe that every single feature of this world is an opportunity to witness the divine, the God is us and in all.