For me, the place to start is the stable in Bethlehem. St. Ignatius of Loyola suggests imagining yourself as a participant in the story. Taking off my shoes—it’s a holy place—I slip into the corner of the stable. Mary is shivering from the cold, but clutching Jesus close to keep him warm. Joseph is there, attentive to Mary’s every need. This tiny baby, powerless, totally dependent on Mary and Joseph, is also God. God become human—not as an emperor or a scholar—but as a baby. From my corner of the stable, I can only be silent in amazement.

St. Francis of Assisi wanted to experience the poverty and hardship that Mary and Joseph felt that first Christmas. He asked a friend to set up a manger with straw, an ox, and a donkey on the hillside at Greccio. The brothers and townsfolk came with torches to light the night. At the manger, they prayed before the image of the baby. Later, they adored his real, true presence at the Christ-Mass.

Good Will to All

Christmas seems to pass so quickly. Gone for another year is the graced time of family love and togetherness—the spirit of good will. The Church extends the celebration for eight days. But when the poinsettia petals fall, Christmas trees come down and lights are stored away, it seems that Christmas is gone. If only we could hold on to Christmas!

But what part of Christmas can’t we continue to enjoy? Jesus is the heart of Christmas; he stays with us. With him and our faith community, we will share the Last Supper, the agony in the garden, his passion, death, and triumphant resurrection. Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb 13:8).

Even though Christmas will be over in a couple of days, we can actively gift our loved ones. We continue to celebrate Christ’s presence and action in our world. We can express our Christmas spirit in being gracious to coworkers and to all who assist us. The homeless are still with us. Soup kitchens need our help. Our donations to the refugees from Syria and Iraq honor Mary and Joseph fleeing with their son to Egypt.

“With Christ, joy is constantly born anew,” Pope Francis has said. Emmanuel—God with us! We have the opportunity of joining with our high priest in giving thanks and praise at every Christ-Mass.

This popular and enduring Christmas song’s plea for peace is as relevant today as when it was written, during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Many people mistakenly assume this Christmas classic has been around for years and that it is of European origin. But it was written in 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis as a powerful plea for peace by a man who had experienced the horrors of war.

The song’s message of peace is as desperately needed today as it was then.

Seeking Goodness and Light

A brilliant musical career seemed assured for the French-born Noel Regney. He had studied at Strasbourg Conservatory and at the Conservatoire National de Paris. Then came the Second World War, when France was overwhelmed by Hitler’s German troops. Much against Regney’s will, he was drafted into the German army.

He hated the Nazis who occupied the land where he was born. So, while still in the German army, Regney became a member of the French underground. His assignments required him to remain in a German uniform. He collected information and, when possible, warned French resistance fighters of attacks the Germans were planning against them.

One mission would continue to haunt Noel Regney: He was assigned the task of leading a group of German soldiers into a trap where the French fighters could catch them in a crossfire.

Although Regney was shot that day, he survived. The French suffered only minor injuries. But the memory of the enemy soldiers falling to the ground, most of them dead, was etched in Noel Regney’s mind.

He never commented publicly on what took place that terrifying day. It has been said that he was intentionally wounded by the French to protect him from the Germans, in the belief that his injury would indicate he had no knowledge of the trap that had been set for the enemy.

Not long after this encounter, Regney deserted the German army and lived underground with the French for the rest of the war. “Only then did I feel free,” he once observed.

After the war, he worked for a number of years as the musical director of the Indochinese Service of Radio France and as music director at Lido, a popular nightclub in Paris.

In 1952, Noel Regney moved to Manhattan. He composed music for many early TV shows and commercial jingles, in addition to writing serious musical compositions. In 1971, Regney composed “Slovenly Peter,” a concert suite based on an old German folktale. Four years later, he completed a five-part cantata titled “I Believe in Life.” He also composed the 1963 hit “Dominique” (sung by Soeur Sourire, also known as “The Singing Nun”).

Little Lambs

In the late ’50s, Noel Regney married pianist Gloria Shayne after knowing her for only a few weeks. Their daughter, Gabrielle Regney, says about her mother, “She’s an extraordinary pianist and composer who has perfect pitch.”

Gloria wrote many popular songs recorded by well-known singers, including “Goodbye Cruel World” (James Darren’s recording peaked at number three on the Billboard charts) and “The Men in My Little Girl’s Life” (recorded by Mike Douglas). She collaborated with Jack Keller on “Almost There” (recorded by Andy Williams).

“My mother’s work tends to be more pop; my father’s is more classical and avant-garde,” says Gabrielle. When her parents collaborated, she says, “Usually, my mother wrote the words and my father wrote the music.” But they did the opposite when they composed “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

Of all their works, that simple Christmas song is the one that will continue to be treasured. Here is how it came to be:

In October 1962, the Soviet Union and the United States were involved in a crisis centered on missiles the Russians had installed in Cuba. The United States threatened military action if the missiles were not removed. The world trembled and prayed as these two nuclear powers stood eyeball-to-eyeball.

That October, as Noel Regney walked through the streets of New York, a sense of despair was in the air. No one smiled. Regney had endured the horrors of war. He knew the fear and terror of being close to death. The safe and secure life he had built for himself in the United States was on the verge of ending.

Christmas, which was supposed to be a time of peace and goodwill, was approaching. Noel Regney had been asked by a record producer to write a holiday song.

“I had thought I’d never write a Christmas song,” he recalled. “Christmas had become so commercial. But this was the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis. In the studio, the producer was listening to the radio to see if we had been obliterated.

“En route to my home, I saw two mothers with their babies in strollers. The little angels were looking at each other and smiling. All of a sudden, my mood was extraordinary.”

A glimpse of these babies filled Noel Regney’s heart with poetry. The little ones reminded him of newborn lambs. Thus, the song begins, “Said the night wind to the little lamb.” As soon as Noel arrived home, he jotted down the lyrics. Then he asked Gloria to write the music to accompany his words. “While walking down the street in New York, my mother heard trumpets playing the melody in her head,” explains Gabrielle Regney.

“Noel wrote a beautiful song,” Gloria said later, “and I wrote the music. We couldn’t sing it, through; it broke us up. We cried. Our little song broke us up. You must realize there was a threat of nuclear war at that time.”

Although their marriage didn’t last, her parents remained close friends, says Gabrielle.

Today, Gloria Shayne Baker is in ill health. Noel Regney died at age 80 in 2002 on the eve of the Christmas season. He was survived by his second wife, Susan, three children (Paul, Gabrielle and Matthieu) and a stepdaughter (Patricia). At his funeral Mass, celebrated at St. Mary’s Church in Ridgefield, New York, “Do You Hear What I Hear?” was performed.

Pray for Peace

There have been over 100 versions of “Do You Hear What I Hear?,” including early recordings by Perry Como and the Harry Simeone Chorale. Gladys Knight and the Pips, Destiny’s Child and Vanessa Williams are among the artists who have made more recent recordings. Noel Regney’s personal favorite was a recording by Robert Goulet, who nearly shouted out the line, “Pray for peace, people, everywhere.”

But it was the Bing Crosby 1963 recording that brought Noel Regney and Gloria Shayne’s song of peace to the nation’s attention. In those days, Crosby’s recordings were often instant hits; his version sold more than a million copies.

“Do You Hear What I Hear?” carried a beautiful message close to people in all walks of life. It became a popular Christmas carol, “a song high above the tree, with a voice as big as the sea.” But the message of peace was lost on many people.

“I am amazed that people can think they know the song and not know it is a prayer for peace, ” Noel Regney once told an interviewer. “But we are so bombarded by sounds and our attention spans are so short.”

Let us hope and pray that, when it is sung in churches worldwide during the Christmas season, this song of peace will remind us that “The Child, The Child sleeping in the night” came to “bring us goodness and light.”

God constantly surprises us, he bursts our categories, he wreaks havoc with our plans. And he tells us: Trust me, do not be afraid, let yourself be surprised, leave yourself behind and follow me! Today let us all ask ourselves whether we are afraid of what God might ask, or of what he does ask. Do I let myself be surprised by God, as Mary was, or do I remain caught up in my own safety zone: in forms of material, intellectual, or ideological security, taking refuge in my own projects and plans? Do I truly let God into my life? How do I answer him?

Take Mary. After the Annunciation, her first act is one of charity towards her elderly kinswoman Elizabeth. Her first words are: “My soul magnifies the Lord,” in other words, a song of praise and thanksgiving to God not only for what he did for her, but for what he had done throughout the history of salvation. Everything is his gift. If we can realize that everything is God’s gift, how happy will our hearts be! Everything is his gift. He is our strength! —Pope Francis

A Christmas Reality

If there’s ever a time for to-do lists, December is that time! We have so many things that we need to keep straight. Shopping and parties, children’s school plays and recitals, decorating, cooking, baking, and more shopping. We have work projects that need to be finished before everyone takes off for a Christmas break. We receive endless reminders for end-of-the-tax-year donation opportunities. In churches, too, all of this activity is mirrored in retreats and religious education activities and the many liturgies and prayer services of the season.

In the midst of all this rushing around and checking off items, we can forget why we’re doing what we’re doing. And we can miss God calling us to do something else—not one more item on the to-do list, but something radically different. It might be as simple (and complicated!) as taking an entire Saturday to play with the children instead of rushing to four different activities. 

It might be reevaluating what we’ve planned to spend on gifts and making a donation to charity instead. It might be looking at our work and hearing God suggesting that something else might be closer to what he wants us to do.

We are reminded that God is fond of surprising his people in big and small ways. And he shows us Mary as an example of someone so open to those surprises that she became the very Mother of God. Mary is at the heart of the Christmas celebration, a model of both action and contemplation. When God became flesh, became one of us, he took on that flesh through this young woman with a spirit open to surprise and wonder and possibility.

Your Christmas Gift Today

Take a look at your to-do list for today. Select one item that you can cross off in order to spend an hour with God. Be as creative as you like in how you spend that time. But make sure the focus is on being present to God and open to the ways he might want to surprise you.

Saint Francis of Assisi once summed up the mission of the community he founded. “Brothers,” he said, “we have been called to heal wounds, to unite what has fallen apart, and to bring home those who have lost their way.”

I will never forget the first time I saw a photograph of Earth taken from a space camera and heard a commentary from one of the early astronauts: “The first thing you notice is that there are no lines dividing one nation from another” (as on our drawn maps). He continued, “You know, it looks so beautiful, you just want to put your arms around it!”

The astronaut was reawakening the vision, the dream that God held up to us at the beginning of Creation. It was man and woman living in loving harmony with each other, with the animal kingdom, with the natural environment and with the Creator (Genesis 2:18-25). When the dream was shattered by the forces of greed, lust and violence, God sent his Son (Galatians 4:4); Jesus the Savior came to restore the harmony, to reunite us, “to gather into one the dispersed children of God” (John 11:52).

More than any other person, perhaps Saint Francis of Assisi caught that vision and gave it new life. He once summed up the mission of the community he founded. “Brothers,” he said, “we have been called to heal wounds, to unite what has fallen apart, and to bring home those who have lost their way.” The prayer attributed to him begins with the words, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”

Francis was only echoing the passionate desire of Jesus his Lord—“Blessed are the peacemakers; they shall be called children of God.” What if we took this dream seriously? What if we made it our central project for the new millennium? What if we sought inspiration from the great peacemakers of the 20th century: Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Dorothy Day and the woman known as “Peace Pilgrim”? Going beyond the way of nonviolence, could we devote ourselves, commit ourselves to the way of healing and reconciling?

What would it look like behaviorally? Not all of us want to march or demonstrate for peace. Few of us have the skill or eloquence to go on radio or TV talk shows to speak about healing relationships. Yet I am convinced that all of us have the capacity to develop some simple, ordinary ways of carrying a spirit of unity, peace and reconciliation into all our relationships.

The Power of Speech

Let’s begin with our words. I don’t think most of us are aware of the impact that what we say can be used to build up or tear down. The Letter of James is so insightful about the power of human speech. The author compares the tongue to the rudder of a ship: a small member, but able to give direction to a much larger body. Sadly, the human tongue often loses control. James laments the fact that it is easier to tame wild animals than to tame the tongue. He notes that, with our tongues, we bless God, yet at the same time curse our fellow human beings, who are made in the image of God. “This need not be so,” he says (James 3:4-10).

Watch practically any prime-time TV show or talk show. Note the endless put-downs, insults, snide and sarcastic remarks, name-calling and hostile outbursts that are exchanged between characters and individuals.

Sarcasm and cynicism are the premier forms of humor. When they become relentless and pervasive, they dull our sensitivity. Unconsciously, we start to imitate what we see because the humor seems so clever and sophisticated.

“It’s all in good fun,” we think. But the objects of our clever speech are not paid TV stars. They are people with feelings. They may be sensitive about their appearance, their lack of skills, their poor self-image. They are hurt. And we have contributed to the erosion of human dignity that is so characteristic of our age. If words spoken in fun have the power to hurt, how much more do words spoken in anger or intended to inflict pain? These are especially destructive when spoken to spouses, parents, children and friends.

What if we resolved in the new millennium to use our power of speech to build up, encourage, affirm, bless rather than tear down, put down, belittle? St. Paul exhorted the Christians of his time not to indulge in evil talk, but “only such as is good for needed edification, that it may impart grace to those who hear” (Ephesians 4:29).

What words do people need to hear? “I really love you. I like the way you handled that situation. I was proud of you tonight. I’ll stand by you. I’ll pray for you. I’m really glad you’re part of our family. Do you need to talk? You look stressed out—can I help? Thank you for taking care of that.” You get the idea. Such simple words, but what power they have.

I’m not suggesting that we never speak the “hard” words. “To speak the truth in love” can also be healing. Sometimes we may need to tell others how their behavior annoys or embarrasses us. Otherwise, our love will be dishonest and sentimental. We want to speak in a caring, gentle manner, so others can receive our words as helpful rather than hurtful. That will require prayer on our part.

When We Are the Injured

Another attitude we need to develop if we wish to focus on healing and reconciliation in this new millennium has to do with injuries inflicted on us by others—or by life. Every one of us carries wounds or scars from the ways life has of hurting us. How will we deal with these?

Some people go through life with a burden of low-grade resentment. They never seem to be able to let go of old slights, hurts, rejections and misunderstandings. When people replay them over and over, like picking at scabs, they remain embedded in grudges and negative feelings.

This is not to deny that the wounds were not real or their feelings justified. Indeed, some people have suffered incredible injuries at the hands of others whom they trusted. Such betrayals can never be condoned. Is there any way out of the negative recycling? The answer comes from the gospel and psychological studies. The way to healing is through forgiveness.

Indeed, some of the best-known names in modern medicine—Dean Ornish, Carl Simonton, Bernie Siegel—are convinced that forgiveness is essential for physical as well as emotional health. Dr. Joan Borysenko, a cancer-cell biologist at Harvard University, believes that forgiveness is the mind’s most powerful healing tool. Once again, Jesus is shown to be the divine physician when he asks us to forgive one another as God has forgiven us.

The act of forgiving injuries can sometimes be the fruit of a rather long process. We may need to get in touch with the pain, recall the hurtful incident(s), let feelings of sadness and anger come into awareness with all their force. But instead of holding on to the negative feelings, we choose to let them go. We come to realize that our anger and resentment are self-defeating. They are not affecting the offender. They are only blocking us from investing our energies in creative, loving, enjoyable experiences.

Above all, since forgiveness is ultimately a grace, we will need to pray for it. And because forgiveness is something that God desires, it is a grace that God will always grant.

I remember reading a woman’s account of how devastated she was after her husband left her for a younger woman. She said, “I prayed aloud one sleepless night: ‘Father, forgive me. I want to trust and believe and have faith like a child, but right now I don’t. Please help me to find life after a failed marriage. And help me really mean what I am about to say: I want to wish my ex and his new wife all the best that life has to offer. You know I don’t mean this now—but I want to.’”

I love that example, because it shows that forgiveness is a choice, an act of decision that goes beyond feelings. Even wanting to forgive, praying for it, is already a movement toward freedom. The emotions will catch up eventually.

Is it necessary to tell the other people that we forgive them? Sometimes this may be very healing, but at other times it may be unwise or even impossible. The main thing is that we have forgiven in our own heart. Even if the other persons are dead, we can express our forgiveness to them in spirit. The important point is that we become free to move on with our own lives.

When We Inflict the Injury

The other need for reconciliation will arise when we are the ones who have inflicted injury on others. This calls us to the simple but deeply human act of apology. Few moments are more beautiful than when one human being says to another, in all humility and sincerity, “I’m sorry. I should not have said/done that. Please forgive me.”

Those moments seem all too rare in our present-day passion to blame the other for whatever has gone wrong and in our litigation-happy society, when any admission of wrongdoing can become grounds for a lawsuit.

All the more reason for Christians to offer the world an alternative way to heal and restore broken relationships!

Breaking the Barriers

What about the divisions between racial and religious groups? In his letter on the third millennium, Pope John Paul laments the painful wounding of Christian unity over the centuries. Such wounds, he says, “openly contradict the will of Christ and are a cause of scandal to the world.” He asks Christians to repent and ask Christ’s forgiveness for whatever ways we have contributed to those divisions. Surely we are called to extend that same attitude to our treatment of people of other races.

It is tempting to shift responsibility for healing such divisions to those who have special expertise or are in positions of authority. It seems too complicated and overwhelming for us. But complexity and difficulty do not excuse us from our own individual efforts.

If we reflect on our personal experience, won’t we discover that our own racial and religious prejudices were reduced most often through meeting, talking and interacting with people different from ourselves? African-Americans, Caucasians, Latinos, Protestants and Jews were no longer labels or categories. They were flesh-and-blood people with needs, strivings, hopes, worries, successes and failures very much like our own.

Perhaps we could take a cue from the Christian men’s movement known as “Promise Keepers.” One of their vision statements reads: “A Promise Keeper is committed to reach beyond racial and denominational barriers to demonstrate the power of biblical unity.” Concretely, it asks members to be willing to meet with at least one person of a different race or denomination each month. The underlying assumption is, if a person takes the time and effort to meet, talk with and listen to someone not of his or her kind, the person will be encountered at the core of his/her humanity. And that experience will do more to heal someone of prejudices than any sermon on Christian unity.

We certainly need the theologians and behavioral scientists to work out “macro” forms of reconciliation. Each of us, however, is called to work at the “micro” tasks—one day at a time, one person at a time. I believe St. Paul had in mind the entire Christian community when he wrote that God has “given us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:18).

As we continue our lives in the new millennium, can we sense our world longing for a nonviolent, healing and reconciling approach to human relationships? Can we know ourselves as agents and instruments of peace in our time? If so, we will be conscious of the power of our words. We will use them to bless rather than curse, heal rather than hurt, forgive rather than nurse a grudge.

With each person we meet, we will look beyond the surface, beyond the external qualities that seem to divide us—to the core of each person, the sacred center where God resides. With Francis of Assisi, “We have been called to heal wounds, to unite what has fallen apart, and to bring home those who have lost their way.”

It’s hard to get into the Christmas spirit when we think of all the people who have lost loved ones to natural or human-made disasters: earthquakes, hurricanes, the mass shooting in Las Vegas. One starts to feel powerless in the face of these calamities. And that’s a dangerous place to be because, sooner or later, that powerlessness translates into numbness. If there’s a salve to this infection of the soul, it will be found in compassion, action, and a willingness to get out of our comfort zones. Here are four ways to support those who have lost so much.

1) Mobil-ize

These days, there’s just no excuse not to give to charity if you have the funds to do so. Just pull out your phone, tablet, or laptop, and donate instantaneously to the charities and causes you care the most about. From helping a next-door neighbor through a GoFundMe campaign to donating to Catholic Charities USA online, you can make an impact without missing a moment of A Charlie Brown Christmas.

2) Be There

Not everyone has the time or energy to do so, but, if you can, volunteer at a food drive or homeless shelter. There’s nothing quite like seeing the direct impact of compassion on those who are treated as shadows in society. Seeing someone’s face light up simply because you are helping deliver a basic need—such as food or clothing—will brighten your soul more than any Christmas tree lighting. It will warm your heart more than any crackling fire with stockings hanging from the mantel. Giving of yourself is Christ-like, and, who knows, maybe you’re serving Christ himself. After all, Matthew 25:35 is written in the first person: “For I was hungry and you gave me food. . . .”

3) Cut through the Information Overload

It’s easy to become overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information that’s thrown at us every day. So choose just a handful of organizations, such as Catholic Relief Services, that you want to support, and subscribe to their e-newsletters. Another alternative is to like them on Facebook and/or follow them on Twitter. That way, your social-media feeds are accented by reminders of crises that may have faded from the 24-hour news cycle’s memory.

4) Remember the Power of Prayer

We believe that prayer brings us closer not only to God but also to each other. Sometimes it might seem as if praying doesn’t have a direct effect on people who are suffering hundreds or thousands of miles away. Like the apostle Thomas, many of us feel that we have to actually touch the wounds to know that it is Christ who is standing before us. However, prayers for those we don’t even know show how far-reaching the term the body of Christ really is. After praying, we may even feel more energized to donate or volunteer. The power of prayer cannot be overestimated.

As we celebrate Jesus’ birth, may we remember those in need of our compassion and support. It’s a challenge to not turn away from people who are suffering, because it can be so unpleasant to see. But if we fix our gaze on them and seek out ways to relieve their pain, we just might see Christ there, too, smiling back at us.

Should the Church welcome LGBT members? “What would Jesus do?” asks this popular author and Jesuit priest.

Father James Martin, SJ, is a best-selling author of books about Catholic spirituality. In 2016, after a horrific massacre at a gay nightclub, the Pulse nightclub, in Orlando, Florida, he spoke out on the silence about the massacre on the part of Church leaders. A talk he later gave became the basis for his book Building a Bridge: How the Catholic Church and the LGBT Community Can Enter into a Relationship of Respect, Compassion, and Sensitivity (HarperOne). LGBT, of course, refers to lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people. The book, published a few months ago, has garnered strong reaction, both supportive and negative. Father Martin is a consultant to the Vatican’s Secretariat for Communication.

I wonder if the negative reaction to your book was as much about how so many Catholics are conflicted about the whole LGBT issue. Some people think it’s contradictory to our faith.

I don’t quite understand how saying “LGBT Catholics” is contradictory. They’re baptized. They already are Catholics. It’s a question of whether or not the Church is willing to welcome these, our brothers and sisters.

Many people have family and friends, people whom they love, who are gay, as you know. Is it OK for those people to openly accept their gay family and friends?

Of course! It’s imperative for people to accept everyone as a beloved child of God! This is the way God made them. The people themselves are a gift to us. Particularly for young people, it’s essential that parents and grandparents and families accept them. The process of coming out or being open about your identity is extremely painful. I know people whose lives have really been destroyed by parents who have not been accepting. Yet this is what God asks us to do: to love one another. That’s the most basic of commandments.

It’s a hard thing to love someone you’re basically discarding, right?

Look in the Gospels and see who Jesus goes to first. It’s people who feel like they’re on the margins. So he’s continually reaching out to people like a Roman centurion, a tax collector, a prostitute, those who are sick, anyone who felt on the margins. There’s no one in our Church more marginalized today than the LGBT person, period. They really are, in many places, treated like lepers. I’ve heard the most appalling stories in the past couple of months since the book came out, from LGBT people and their families about how they’ve been treated. It’s really shocking.

For example?

A few months ago, a woman wrote to me through Facebook and said, “Do you know any compassionate priests in my city? Because I work at a hospice and there’s a man who’s dying here, whom the local priest refuses to anoint or see because he’s gay.”

Young Catholics

In your book, you talk a lot about encounter as a way through, a way to a new understanding. What do you mean by that?

In my way of looking at it, it’s friendship. It’s coming to know people, listening to them, sharing in their lives, entering into their struggles, and celebrating their joys with them. So it’s really just being friends. My book is a challenge to Church leaders. Can people who are in positions of authority be friends with LGBT Catholics?

Can they be friends?

Yes. Yes, and the question is, why not? LGBT Catholics are already part of the life of the Church. They are music ministers, directors of religious education, pastoral associates, and teachers in our schools. Our Church leaders, unbeknownst, are already friends with these people.

It seems as if there’s really a generation gap on this question, too. Young people don’t seem to be as conflicted as their parents. Do you have a feel for that?

I think that’s accurate. Straight, young Catholics have a problem with the way the Church treats LGBT people. It’s not the way that they treat their friends. They might ask, “Why would you treat my good friend, who is gay, like that? And why would I want to be part of a Church that treats my friends who are gay like that?”

Why are many younger people more tuned in to acceptance than their parents might be?

Because a generation ago, people were generally not out—public about their identity. Now you have people who are out. As more and more people come out, it becomes more and more something that everyone is familiar with. As straight people become friends with LGBT people, there’s a higher comfort level.

So, a lot of it does come down to personal relationships?

Absolutely. I think this is the genius of Pope Francis’ idea of a culture of encounter, a culture of encounter and accompaniment. The LGBT people become not simply categories, but friends. Certainly it changes the family, it changes everything. It’s one thing to be homophobic; it’s another thing to be homophobic when your son is gay or your daughter is lesbian.

Who Am I to Judge?

Q: Soon after Francis became our pope, people asked him about this issue and he asked, “Who am I to judge?” He’s not really endorsing the gay lifestyle, is he? What does he mean by that?

A: Well, it depends on what you mean by the gay lifestyle. What does that mean? Does it just mean living as a gay person? Does that mean engaging in same-sex relations? Does that mean getting married? The original question was about gay priests, and he said, “If a man is trying to find God, who am I to judge?” And then they pushed him and said, “Well, you meant just gay priests.” And he said, “No, everybody who’s gay.” By extension, he’s trying to move us away from this idea of judging LGBT people as sinners or as the worst sinners.

It’s quite discriminatory. You don’t have people being fired for living together before being married, for using birth control, for being divorced—you simply don’t. And yet it’s the LGBT person whose life, whose sexual morality is put under a microscope. It’s an instance of what the Catechism of the Catholic Church calls “unjust discrimination.”

It’s both true and relevant. Imagine, for example, a year ago at the Pulse nightclub. Imagine if a priest would get up and talk about what it was like growing up as a gay boy who was bullied. Just imagine that. How powerful that would be. That’s not to say a gay priest would talk about that kind of stuff all the time, but if you’re a priest who had been a refugee, you would talk about the stories of refugees from a personal standpoint. The Church is impoverished by having these people not able to be open about themselves.

Sometimes people call this moral relativism. It’s “anything goes; anybody has a right to believe and do as he or she pleases.” A lot of Catholics in the pews don’t want to be closed-minded but also don’t want to give in to the idea that anything goes. How do you view it?

First of all, why are these people assuming that these LGBT people are sexually active to begin with? Second of all, why are these people assuming that anyone else they deal with is not engaging in behavior contrary to Church teaching? And third of all, who are they to judge? Why don’t you get to know these people? And just accompany them as friends? It really is a very judgmental attitude, to approach a person as a problem or a sinner, instead of the way Jesus approached people, which is first as brothers and sisters.

The whole premise of questions like that from people, which I hear a lot, is that we must look at LGBT people solely through the lens of sex. We don’t treat any other person like that. Imagine seeing a group of college students—now most college students are sexually active—and asking, “Well, how can I possibly talk to this group of college kids? They’re all sinners.”

The Coin’s Other Side

Q: In your book, the building bridges idea implies a two-way effort. After all the things you just said, it almost seems ridiculous to ask, but when two sides need to come together, both parties have to do something, don’t they?

That’s, I think, the harder part of the book. I make it clear that the onus is on the institutional Church, because it’s the institutional Church that has marginalized the LGBT person, not vice versa. Nonetheless, LGBT Catholics are invited to treat their bishops and Church leaders with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. Those are just simply good Christian practices. But they’re also good strategy if you really want to enter into the dialogue.

I’m thinking of some LGBT folks who just have taken five steps away from the Church. How can I expect them to come closer?

A: Well, I think there are two reasons. One is, it’s simply the Christian call. It’s like asking, “How can you expect me to forgive?” Well, Jesus expects that, not me. Second of all, I think they can see that there’s change happening. Pope Francis’ five most famous words, “Who am I to judge?” really have changed things. He’s also talked about gay people he’s known. He met with a former student of his who’s gay, and his partner. He’s used the word gay. He talks about how Jesus would never say, “Go away from me; you’re homosexual.”

So it’s happening. I think there’s also a call for trust on the part of Catholics who feel estranged from the Church that they, too, are part of the Church and are called to contribute to its flourishing. They have a responsibility, too.

The book is pretty mild, and so I’m shocked at the response it’s gotten from both sides. It just shows why it’s important to talk about this issue.

Christmas Advice

The holidays are upon us. Do you have any pastoral advice for families who might be having awkward, or even heated, conversations?

First, love your LGBT son or daughter—or sibling, niece, nephew, grandchild. Love is the first thing. Second of all, make them feel welcome and not judged—the same way that you wouldn’t judge anyone else. Your family is filled with sinners because we’re all sinners. And third, listen to them, try to find out where they are, and what their hopes and dreams are. But love them—that’s the most important thing. As St. Augustine said, “Love and do what you will.”

What about from the other side of the bridge, from an LGBT person who has felt isolated or awkward with his or her family? What advice do you have for that person?

I would also say, try to understand them. Try to understand his or her limitations and where they’re coming from. Be open to change and pray for their own openness. But also remember: you have just as much a right to be in the family as anybody else does.