With Pride Month just kicking off, I’ve already heard a common rebuttal to queer celebrations: “It’s not Pride Month, it’s the month of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.” As a Catholic myself, it’s disheartening to see the faith weaponized in the name of condemning others; Pride Month is not opposed to the teachings of Jesus in my life experience.
One of the pinnacle moments in the Gospel of St Matthew occurs during the Sermon on the Mount, when Jesus delivers what are now known as the Beatitudes, including: “Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted,” “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven,” and “Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.”
During Pride Month, do we not mourn the lives lost to bigotry? Do we not comfort those who now have an empty seat at their table because of hate crimes?
During Pride Month, do we not stand with those whose hearts ache in secret because they must hide who they are? Do we not send love toward those who wait fearfully in the closet?
During Pride Month, do we not fight tooth and nail for the respect and rights of all of God’s creation? Do we not take a stand against hate and prejudice?
The Beatitudes are fulfilled in our mourning for people like Marsha P. Johnson, in the suffering of those whose families don’t accept them, and in the push for equal rights for all people.
In this way, Pride Month and the Sacred Heart of Jesus are not opposed to one another.
Too often, faith is used as a weapon to cause harm to those who are different. But in my pursuit of my faith off of the beaten path, I’ve grown into who I am today.
As a more effeminate man, the insistence on masculinity from many Christians has always been something that bothered me. I felt as though I hadn’t any religious figures to embody or look up to.
But that changed when I renewed my focus on the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mother Mary isn’t just a model for women; she’s an embodiment of holy femininity for all people.
God made me the way that I am; He made me effeminate. And I learned that Mary’s character is something that made my faith stronger when I followed her example.
In addition to the Blessed Mother, I also found inspiration in the actions of St. Joan of Arc, who fought the restrictions placed on women in the name of God during the Middle Ages.
Her femininity also provided an example of what my faith could like — so much so that to this day, my college email signature signs off with one of her quotes: “I am not afraid; I was born to do this.”
And I was born to do this. I was born the way God made me, and no attempts to repress that will prevail.
Faith and queerness do not have to be opposed to each other. The fact that June is the month of the Sacred Heart does not negate the fact that it is also Pride Month. These two celebrations ought not be at war with one another but rather should be used to highlight Jesus’ compassion for all people of all types.
I extend a heartfelt thanks to those in the Church who do fight for inclusivity, who value the freedoms of queer people and who view LGBTQ people as human beings rather than deviants.
As for those who weaponize the faith? It is a shame that so many of my fellow Catholics use this month to be hateful, to shoot dirty looks, to hurl insults, to scoff at rainbows.
How sad Christ must be at those who use his name in such a way.
Will Reames just graduated with a bachelor’s degree from Marquette University where he studied political science and theater arts. He was raised in North Texas by two moms who taught him the importance of helping others, which is the basis of his work.
This article claims that St. Joan of Arc “fought the restrictions placed on women”, which she herself and the numerous eyewitness accounts contradict: during the fourth session of her trial, she said she never fought but instead carried her banner in battle, and she denied calling herself a commander (there was always a nobleman in direct command), confirmed on both points by the eyewitnesses. Her so-called “male clothing” was just a horseback-riding outfit given to her by the soldiers who escorted her to Chinon and which she continued wearing in prison so that she could use the outfit’s laces to keep all the parts “securely laced and tied” together to hinder her guards from pulling her clothing off (according to eyewitnesses who were at her trial) – a motive of necessity which was allowed under medieval Catholic theology (see the Summa Theologica or other doctrinal summaries in that era). None of this violated any of the societal norms for women, nor did her role violate those norms since she was a religious visionary in an era when there were many women and girls accepted in a similar position, such as when St. Catherine of Siena gave advice to Pope Urban VI at his request. The article also makes the strange claim that Pride Month is consistent with Catholic morality despite the patent fact that the main point of the month is to celebrate forms of sex that are forbidden by Catholic doctrine.