Retreat — March 2011 —No. 4: Homosexuality and Friendship

     Rather than continuing with a chronological account of my prayer life for the remaining seven days of the retreat, I think it would be better to cut to the chase(s), and treat some ongoing topics of the retreat as a whole.

     Early on, I mentioned to my retreat director that I have a homosexual orientation. I think that in such situations, it is important for the director (as it would be for any such advisor/counselor/therapist) to know about me. It was, unsurprisingly, an important element in subsequent meetings, the more so because the aids to prayer he had given me had a considerable focus on feelings and desires.

     The two desires that I noticed were for friendship (including non-sexual intimacy) and a better prayer life. My director suggested that in my prayer, I should let my fantasies run, and ask for what I want. This seems to have led to a misunderstanding, because when I let my fantasies run, eventually they can get to a point of fantasizing about sex (as is no doubt the case with all but the most tightly repressed). When I mentioned that, the director suggested that I should ask Jesus if I should have sex with men. I took this to mean that he thought Jesus would say, "Yes." But I didn't think I got that answer from the Lord. A couple of days later he must have sensed some withdrawal on my part, because he asked if something was troubling me, and I told him that I found it unsettling that he seemed to be suggesting that God might want me to engage in gay sex. He assured me that he had not meant that, and he did not want to encourage me in that direction.

     Apart from that wrong turn, we had some useful discussion of how I had effectively shut myself off from intimate friendships for fear of outing myself, living my life "looking over my shoulder," as he put it.  One of the other priests chose a song for Mass one day in which the singer speaks of being "afraid to show the love I mean" and feeling "unfit to follow Jesus." I found that a very poignant and moving description of my life of "looking over my shoulder."

     This led to consideration of times when I had failed to take advantage of opportunities for deeper and more intimate friendships. In differing ways, these included my father, a couple of college classmates and their wives, a couple of colleagues on the Race Committee and their wives, a former pastor in my parish, the guy in college who was in love with me, cousins on Prince Edward Island, and a few others. Then I started thinking of what prospects there might be for developing the sort of closeness which would enrich my life, make it more joyful. Perhaps the best possibility is my older brother. There are a few others who might also offer some opportunities for stronger friendships than now exist. But in every case, what I need to do is unlearn the wary, self-censoring reticence which has our friendships from getting closer.

     At one point, the director asked me if I'm happy. I didn't get a chance to answer the question to him, but as I pondered it, I came up with an answer: when I'm walking downtown, I have my head held high, a spring in my step, a smile on my face, and a song in my heart. Yes, I'm fundamentally happy. Perhaps I could be happier, but I am not desperate for better friendships, as enjoyable as they might be — which, I suppose, is why I've been able to remain so cautious about letting people get close to me. But the director made the point that I can't be close to God if I can't be close to other people.

     Overall, I'd say that in this area, I gained some very useful insights into myself and my relationships with other people. Since the retreat ended at the beginning of April, I have slowly, slowly, begun to apply those insights.