What I learned from my gay son

  

Dear Dr. Augias, I have three children. The youngest was the most gifted. Generous, helpful, loyal. When I was 12, he forced me to return to the bus stop at ten o'clock at night to check whether the old lady who had asked us what time had taken the bus or not.

It wasn't until 2000, when he was 30, that he confessed to me that he was gay. He said he'd never found the courage to tell me because I'm Catholic. I remember well what I felt: I felt the floor shaking, but my face obeyed love's command to block out any expression that might hurt him. In those moments, I was able to focus on the essence of my pain: he, that gifted boy, belonged to a category similar to mine, that of a woman who, emancipated, remains subordinate to a man.

That's right, whatever anyone may say, this is still the social truth of our condition today. In these last three years, thanks to my gay son, I've learned many things and am more aware of life's essential values. I've never been very Catholic, but that much of it complicated my existence. I had to erase the prejudices the church taught me. The love I find within me (which I believe comes from God) is indispensable help in daily combating the ignorance of those who still haven't understood that good and evil exist in every person and that every person (whether male, female, or gay) is given the opportunity to collaborate for the individual and social good. The precious gift of life doesn't come from the Pope, nor (fortunately) from the Prime Minister or any other human institution.

Life is given to us freely and generously, we must live it with strength, making the most of it for ourselves and for others.

Signed letter

This letter responds to the unfortunate homosexual's letter published on this page last Sunday. The woman who sent it authorizes me to share her email address only with the sender of that letter, should he deem it appropriate. I'm publishing it because I believe it contains at least two observations of general interest. The first is the lightly hinted at coexistence of good and evil in every human being. Whether it stems from our bestial ancestry (the myth of Cain) or, as Jean-Jacques Rousseau believed, from society, Evil is present in each of us, and in each of us it coexists and struggles with good.

Psychoanalysis has identified this dual nature even in the apparent innocence of children, and an entire strand of literature revolves around the romantic figure of the "doppelganger," a man good in one respect and evil in another, a bit like the generous Dr. Jekyll, a bit like the ignoble Mr. Hyde. Another reference, which remains terrible even in the brevity with which the lady writes about it, is that she was forced to erase all the prejudices of the Catholic Church to preserve intact her love for her son. This papacy will be remembered for many positive aspects but, I fear, also for its total and blind closure towards sexual morality, including homosexuality.

I know full well that it is difficult, I think I can intuit the reasons for such caution, but isn't it on difficult, borderline issues that one should measure the generosity and vision of such a powerful faith and organization?


  •