This is the story of me getting told I was going to hell and why it bothered me.
It’s official I’m going to hell. As I started my public journey of coming out, I knew people were going to get upset and possibly say awful things to me. Then I got told I was going to hell. At first, I found it funny that someone was ignorant enough to even open the door of “you’re going to hell” to a theology major (one going for her PhD nonetheless). I responded thoughtfully and with class even though my first instinct was to really rip this person apart. I knew if I did respond forcefully then they’d just get in a tizzy about the whole thing and to be honest I didn’t really want to watch the downward spiral of an old conservative hetero white man that day. I went on with my life saying it didn’t really bother me because I knew I wasn’t going to hell, and I did not own what this person thought of me. But after that experience I started having awful dreams about coming out. Every night for a whole week my dreams were about me coming out and they ended much worse than it had in real life. I finally admitted to myself it did actually bother me that someone told me I was going to hell.
I was told I was going to hell because being gay, in their mind, is first wrong and second my choice. I’m making a bad choice in their mind. So naturally that leads me to eternally damnation. But the real kicker was that I was told that I needed to find God and God could save me from being gay. Well God’s doing a hell of job with that one as I’ve found God and I’m currently writing this with a crucifix hanging on the wall right in front of me. So, come on God save me faster! You think after all this time God would have already done something. But alas we’re here and God has not changed my sexuality. The other interesting idea that I’m choosing this sexuality was greatly summed up by my academic advisor, “Yes, because a gay Catholic female theologian is the easiest life you can choose to have” to which both of us bursted out laughing. In the Bible it says that what we are judged on is based on how we treat other people (Matt 25:31-46). It is about how we treated our fellow human beings. Nowhere does Jesus say, “so that’s the criteria but even if you treat people with dignity but you’re gay you are still going to hell.” The criteria is about love, agape to be exact. It’s about did you love all people with the idea of perfect self-gift in mind. So then why am I going to hell again? I may not be perfect at loving people and you can argue that all day long if you wish but no where did Jesus say that my sexuality keeps me from heaven. In my lengthy reply to the person I made sure to emphasize the need to love and give dignity to people.
I thought that this would really be the end of it. I replied and then would just move on with my life not worried about anything. But I was wrong. I started having awful dreams about coming out followed by awful dreams of people not wanting to talk to me anymore. I woke up every day feeling anxious and on edge. I didn’t feel rested because I was so worked up when I woke up. I began to realize over a few days that it deeply troubled me that someone had said this to me. Why? I’m still working on this. I haven’t quite found out why. Maybe because hell my whole life was used against me to scare me into being a certain way. Maybe I see how much people don’t respect me because of who I am and it’s getting to me. I don’t know. But I realized my dreams of people not wanting to talk to me anymore were very key to how I was feeling.
I realized how much it bothered me that some people said nothing to me. They ignored my post. They ignored me coming out completely. I’m not saying that I wanted a huge parade congratulating me, but to know that people accepted me would be nice. I realized that I was equating their silence as damnation. None one came to my aid when I was told I was going to hell. No one stood up for me. I stood up for myself, which is good, and you should always do that, but no one defended me and told me, “you aren’t going to hell”. When we speak about kids being bullied, we always say never be a bystander. That silence is agreeing with the bully. Which is true. When people ignored me coming out, they agreed with those people who saw my post and hated me for my sexuality. When people read that I was going to hell and said nothing, they agreed with it.
I was feeling the pressure of no one really supporting me. My friends and mom of course reached out to me personally and were talking it through with me, but it was everyone else who said nothing. Not a text, not a message, not a reply to posts, not even a like, nothing. They agreed. Now whether or not they actually do is not what’s being debated because I know who is okay with my sexuality and who isn’t. Just as the argument with bystanders is not that we think bystanders agree that bullying is ok, it is that silence is agreeing.
My posts were about me coming out. Nothing more than just saying I’m not straight. Something my home parish had preached many times was that they did not hate gay people just did not like their actions (such as marriage and dating). I knew that this was false when they were preaching it and they did just dislike homosexuality, but I would love to go back now when they say this stuff and hold up the facts and say, “you refused to support me coming out. I never said I was dating a woman or anything like that and you refused to accept me.” It’s easy to say you accept something when you are never faced with. It’s easy in theory but harder in application, as I always say.
I think my family, some of my friends, and definitely my church are struggling with this notion. It was always easy to say you would accept someone, but now you have to. So, how can you? I was talking to my mom about this recently. I told her that I knew how my family was handling the news that they would probably never say a thing to me about it. They would probably bring it up once in passing but in a way that would not allow me to talk about it and instead lead to a quick change in conversation. She asked me then what did I want people to do. I want people to ask me questions because I know they have them, especially since I don’t label myself. That can be confusing to people. I’m just now getting this through to my friends that if they have questions to feel free, as long as you are respectful and are asking out of genuinely wanting to know I’m fine with being asked questions. I told my academic advisor that I publicly come out at the end of one of our meetings and he got so excited and then asked me to come back on Monday because he had questions and he had another meeting to go to so he couldn’t ask them now. Some people may find that weird, but I found it quite endearing. He wanted to understand me and where I was coming from. He wanted to understand what I meant about certain things. He wanted to know my experience.
I guess all I really ask of people is to want to know and to want to understand. I don’t need a parade or large celebration (though that would be nice because I do love a good party). I need people to want. To want to be better, to want to learn, to want to change the way the world is. As I write this, I think of all the times in which I was silent to matters that I should not be silent about. I forgive myself for that and strive to do better next time. Let’s all strive to do better. Forgive yourself for your failings and move onward to do better. Let’s strive to not sit silently back as we watch the world be cruel but to respond respectfully and thoughtfully with understanding, compassion, and knowledge in order to change this world to a better one where all can flourish.
For more on LGBTQ+ within the church see: Hey God, I’m Gay
“‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (Matthew 25:35-40)