SIT-IN 2007. AT ST. PETER'S IN MEMORY OF ORMAndo
In memory of Alfredo Ormando, who set himself on fire in St. Peter's, a sit-in and conference will be held on January 13th to build dialogue between homosexuality and religions.
by Delia Vaccarello
January 13, 2007, in St. Peter's Square for Ormando
Alfredo Ormando, gay Sicilian poet, He set himself on fire on January 13, 1998 in St. Peter's to denounce the homophobia of the Vatican hierarchy..
Following the teachings of Ugo Foscolo – who sees the dead resurrected in the memory of the living – we imagine that Ormando returns among us thanks to the events and conferences organized in his memory to build dialogue between religions and homosexuality.
The following text was written in the first person and in the present tense to give Ormando, who loved writing more than himself, the caress of a word that still lives today. To represent the secular power of memory to give life, even if the body is no longer there. It was written also thanks to the documents made available by Massimo Consoli and Piero Montana, whom we thank.
«"The word has always been a salvation and a comfort to me, yet the experience of not seeing it heard has made me feel defeated. You, dear brothers and sisters, who on January 13th will sit on the ground in the square in front of St. Peter's to remember me, have become the distant breath of my verses.
Alfredo Ormando
I wrote in my novel "Under the Sky of Uranus": "Why must I live? I can't find a single reason why I should continue this torture... In the afterlife, I won't make anyone's hair stand on end or their nose curl because I'm homosexual... I don't understand this obstinacy. I'm not leading anyone astray from the straight path of heterosexuality. Anyone who sleeps with me is a mature adult, that is, a consenting homosexual or bisexual adult... I've been living with prejudice and marginalization since I was ten years old. I can no longer accept it, it's too late." Since then, thanks to a new communication effort, a possible acceptance of homosexuality has emerged in our Italy. Even though there are no laws yet, it's true that a certain level of ostracism without appeal from popular opinion has become less frequent.
The harsh judgment of the Catholic hierarchy remains. But you who remember my suicide, continue to let me live by not making my gesture in vain. It was not in vain if you still hold me in your hearts. It was not in vain if even today in the hearts of many gay and lesbian Catholic believers there is a lacerating conflict between the judgment expressed by the priests of their faith and the love for their same-sex partner. As I wrote, “No one is more evil than he who pushes a good man to be his own murderer.'. I am, with my example, what must never happen again.
With the sit-in in St. Peter's Square, you demonstrated the vital need for respect. And since then, for two years now, you have organized a conference, trying to establish dialogue. I love you for this sacrifice you make of yourselves, for your continuation of the profound meaning of my suicide. I had never been listened to; I was only listened to by setting myself on fire. My entire body became words. Now my word is you. And among you there are many young people, who perhaps like me have suffered the weight of prejudice since childhood, but who have the strength to react because they are no longer alone. The brothers of the'Arcigay who organized the conference called the 'Union of Young Jews of Italy', the young Muslims, the gay evangelicals of the "Refo" association. The young people of Iglyo, an organization that operates throughout Europe, have given their patronage.
'you called “World Day for Dialogue between Religions and Homosexuality'. I've always loved the subterranean dialogue the writer weaves with the collective soul. Gay Buddhists are able to communicate with their high priests, as are some evangelicals. Catholics, at the moment, are not. Often, bypassing the hierarchies, they experience God in silence, in the many outstretched hands of sacred hearts that open to the world's suffering. When you meet, you desire to live in a large family of emotional friends, where no one feels alone.
Before I died, I wrote from Palermo to a friend in Reggio Emilia: “If I had had a couple of friends like you here, I would have gladly accepted my life.”. 'Friendship is a priceless asset. You are nurturing it, with courage and resilience. After burning myself, in the ten days spent in excruciating pain that preceded my end, I said: "I couldn't even die." Today I say: thanks to you who keep me alive in my memory, I cannot die. You are my religion.".
I KNOW CHRIST TELLS ME TO FIGHT FOR GAYS
For me, being a gay Christian means constantly remembering that the cross has been exploited to offend, discriminate against, and kill millions of people, including many gays, lesbians, and trans people.
by Aurelio Mancuso
National Secretary of Arcigay
I attend Mass from home, I pray alone in empty churches, in a voluntary and proud militant hermitage.
Aurelio Mancuso
Sometimes I see the abbey. Its mighty, bare walls overlook the plain at its feet. If it weren't for the inconvenient presence of an adjacent restaurant, everything might suggest we're back in the Middle Ages. Every time I need to forgive—and I do so with increasing difficulty—the horror of the words uttered by the Catholic hierarchy, I think of this abbey, I draw the strength to look soberly at the papal court, the bejeweled thrones, the camauri dusted off to reaffirm dominions and prohibitions, which so many had hoped had sunk into the shame of centuries stained with the blood of Man.
In the plain where the abbey stands, the light finds no obstacles, God's presence does not have to deal with the dark Vatican rooms. Here, God is far from the anathemas of congregations encrusted with gems, clad in dazzling gold leaf, ready to deny the profound meaning of communion. More and more often, their faces seem to me like those of "mummies," incapable of loving the joys of the body, the goodness of sexuality, the fruitfulness of every love.
Even the appeals of many sisters and brothers in the faith, who tug at my jacket and remind me that the church is something else, that it is possible to find spaces of action, seem insufficient to me. The vainglorious return to traditions and doctrinal references leaves me indifferent, because the duty to follow my conscience is stronger, to testify where sharing is possible, never giving up the clarity and distinction without which one becomes complicit. This church is not my ecclesia, while I feel fully part of the wandering people of God, searching in the world.
From «katholicos» I feel pity for the obsessive defense of scandalously blasphemous temporal privileges and prerogatives. The tiny glimmer of hope represented by the Second Vatican Council has been hermetically sealed by Ratzinger's caesar-papist dreams, by the closure of possible dialogue. There are so many of us who enjoy freedom of thought, the ability to listen to humanity, and the jealous defense of a faith that cannot be proclaimed as a political manifesto.
Faith is silence, the warm and gentle wind of pneumos, announced with humility and sobriety. For me, being a gay Christian means constantly remembering that the cross has been exploited to offend, discriminate against, and kill millions of people, including many gays, lesbians, and trans people..
Today, being one of them, fighting with them, gives me the privilege of fully responding to the call of the risen Christ, for men and women of good will.
When I protest in the square with my brothers and sisters, it's as if I were on the great plain where God's light is unimpeded. And our voices rising on high protect us like the thick walls of the abbey.
