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Michael Bernard Kelly was born in
Melbourne in 1954. He holds professional
qualifications in theology, spirituality,
education and creative media. For
seventeen years he was employed as a
Religious Education specialist in the
Catholic education system. In 1993 he came
out as an openly gay man, and his career in
Catholic education ended.
Since coming out, Michael has committed
himself to living contemplatively and to
shaping new forms of ministry with gay and
lesbian people. He is a freelance writer,
speaker, activist, counsellor and educator,
specialising in spirituality, sexuality and
human integration. His ministry has
included creating rituals, speaking at
conferences, leading retreats, offering
spiritual direction, and writing for journals,
newspapers and books in Australia, the US
and the UK.
Seduced by Grace
Contemporary spirituality, Gay experience and Christian faith MICHAEL
BERNARD KELLY
Foreword by
The Honourable Michael Kirby AC CMG
Clouds of Magellan
––––—
Melbourne
© Michael Bernard Kelly 2007
First published 2007
Clouds of Magellan Publishing
www.cloudsofmagellan.net All rights reserved
ISBN 9780980298321
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
Kelly, Michael Bernard.
Seduced by grace : contemporary spirituality, gay experience and christian faith.
Bibliography.
ISBN 9780980298321 (pbk.).
ISBN: 9781742980713 (ebk).
1. Rainbow Sash Movement. 2. Homosexuality – Religious aspects – Catholic Church. 3. Spirituality – Catholic Church. I. Title.
261.835766
Front cover image: Santi-Jose Acosta – www.santidesign.com Back cover image: Hannah Patchett
Cover design: Ursula Weidenmuller
Printed by Shannon Books
Digital distribution by Ebook Alchemy
Conversion by Winking Billy
Dedication
To all the gay contemplatives, known and unknown, who have kept alive, on the margins of society and church, the flame of radical love.
*
Acknowledgements
Articles and essays in this collection have appeared in The Age, The Australian, Sydney Morning Herald, Campaign Magazine, Eureka Street, Sydney Star Observer, and Online Catholics, and in publications from Haworth Press and Yale Divinity School.
Foreword
The Honourable Michael Kirby AC CMG
Readers will have different reactions to this book. I know what my long-suffering partner of four decades, Johan, would say about it: ‘Why doesn’t he get over it? If the institution of the Church hurts him so much, why not give it away? Why not explore some other avenue of spirituality? Like Buddhism? Or Theosophy? Or perhaps just become an old-fashioned humanist and rejoice in common human goodness? Why does he torture himself with the perceived cruelty of his Church in its dealings with him?’
The author of this book, a son of Melbourne, worked for many years for the Roman Catholic education system that nurtures a large and growing proportion of Australia’s schoolchildren. But when he openly revealed that he was homosexual, he had to go. Priest or teacher, sister or gardener, there is, it seems, no space in the Church or its institutions for open people like him. True, if they remain silent, they do not confront Church leaders with the ‘inconvenient truth’ of their sexuality. It is the ‘intrinsic tendency to evil’, that is bound up in their sexual orientation that supposedly requires this modern vow of silence. Of course, it is a ‘vow’ that promotes hypocrisy, deceit, bitterness and self-loathing. For many, the ‘vow’ ends up being a greater burden than the knowledge that, in this particular, the individual is a little different from the majority of humanity.
‘No. No. You must understand’, I would say. ‘He stays with his Church because it is part of his being. It is a link with his most beloved family members and friends. It brings comforting memories of his safe and secure days of childhood. It contains people who are good and noble and do wonderful things for many. Above all, the Church is the ultimate guardian of the most precious message of a divine guide to us on Earth – Jesus’. So I would tell Johan. ‘He cannot let it go because of love. He refuses to let a few powerful old men in frocks divorce him from the Faith that he learned as a boy and that is part of his very essence. He truly believes that Faith. And he knows that it is a religion of love and equality, with respect for the dignity of each and every one of us. He knows (or at least hopes) that we are going through a bad patch of unkindness, power-play, hypocrisy. When the central message of the religion is lost, drowned out by angry voices and a few selected passages of Scripture, read in isolation from their context and seemingly deliberately misunderstood’.
‘How can you believe all this?’ Johan will reply. ‘How can you, and he, obviously very intelligent men, take seriously the absurdities of your religion. Let’s face it. It has always been oppressive. Oppressive to women and unequal in the space it allows them in the Church. Oppressive to people of colour, to slaves, to indigenes under the conquering Europeans. Oppressive to gays. I just scratch my head and cannot understand why you and he persist. Give it away. It will make you feel more at peace. By the way, it will also make those narrow minded bigots feel a whole lot happier. You can meet the ‘good and noble’ types in other contexts. And anyway, as the author himself found in the Internet chat room which he recounts, with the inquisitive priest ‘Bill’, some of the harshest oppressors in the Church are gay themselves. They are struggling with demons in their own minds. Cut yourself clear from them. It will be better for all concerned’.
I did not grow up in the Roman Catholic tradition of Christianity. Some things in this book appear alien to my understandings. The holy water. The Marian prayers. The seeming fear of the Vatican. The close attention to Papal encyclicals. The ‘sacred gift’ of celibacy these last 1700 years. For me, the Church of my childhood was the Church of England, now called Anglican. It is, as the author describes it, a church that daily ‘has our fights for us’. There were always flags near the altar of my church. God, King and country were intimately associated in those boyhood days of the British Empire. Yet it seemed a pretty tolerant space. Inclusive even. There always had to be room for the catholics and protestants in the post-Reformation English Church.
I watched with expectation the outreach of my denomination in the ordination of women priests and the consecration of women bishops. I saw its growth in Africa and other lands of people formerly oppressed. Yet, lately, those who were oppressed seem to have turned their new-found power on the sexual minorities within Anglicanism. Like some of the leaders of the Roman tradition, described in this book, a few Anglican leaders have attempted to snuff out the ever-so-tentative