I follow with mixed amusement and compassion the ways anti-Church
advocates—claiming “human rights”—manipulate mainstream and social media to
advance their agenda. They start
with looking oppressed—as though gays were the most tyrannized people on Planet
Earth. But are they, seriously? At least in the Philippines, they are
far from oppressed—they are not only accepted, they are loved, adored, and some
are even envied for their wealth and popularity. And their gifts and talents are not just acknowledged by the
Church but are welcomed and utilized in its ministry. I have heard of gay boys being rejected by their fathers,
but only in the movies. All the
gay persons I know have no problem with acceptance.
The earliest memories I have of gays are those about the two men in
charge of our town’s Flores de Mayo.
“Dalawang bakla lang ang gumagawa
ng lahat diyan,” my mother would admiringly inform us, referring to the two
middle-aged unmarried men—with soft wrists and hard core devotion to the Virgin
Mary—who would virtually bloom whenever santacruzan
time came around. They
recruited sagalas, assigned Reinas
their consortes, supervised the
makeup, the flower arrangements, the carroza
decoration—everything! It
never occurred to me that they were different—maybe I was too naïve to notice,
just as I was too innocent to appreciate the biggest role in the santacruzan given to me—Ang Babaeng Samaritana.
No, I think the LGBT champions want more than mere acceptance—they want
“gay rights” to be recognized as human rights. They want marriage (just like the straights), they want
their own “family” of adopted kids, and in the process they try to
“revolutionize” Church teaching in the name of human rights. What’s sad is they don’t seem to
understand that by fighting for “gay rights” they are seeking affirmation based
on mere sexuality. In a sense they
are actually asking people to measure their worth by the yardstick of sexual
preference, thereby wasting their own potential as human beings.
Claiming that the only natural love they know (and the act that
accompanies it) is one for and with another person of the same gender, they
argue that they have a right to find happiness in love. “Kasalanan
ko bang ipinanganak akong isang sirena?” (Is it my fault that I was born a
mermaid?), a lot of gay men I know have jokingly asked. Like any other person they look for
someone to love and to be loved by, and when they do, they have sex without
babies (to put it bluntly). It’s
sex to please oneself and the beloved.
Pleasure blinds the indulgent, and this is where their problem
worsens. They drop out of Church,
or in any case stop listening to “God talk”—instead they choose listen to “the
other side”, and from there it’s a slippery slope to perdition.
“Who says you have to have sex with your boyfriend to express your
love?” I tell this to my gay
friends who seem to flit from one fling to another in search of happiness in
love. (They keep getting
brokenhearted anyway). “Happiness
in love is not found in human love alone—perhaps, in ‘making you a sirena’ God wants to be your siyukoy (merman)! But if you keep complaining and
marching in the streets for your gay rights, how can you hear the Father
telling you He loves you?”
It is said that hope springs eternal in the human breast. And so my gay friends still hope that
with such a dynamic pope as Francis at the helm, the ongoing synod of bishops
will maybe allow same-sex marriage.
“You see,” I tell them, “you’re just listening to the noise! The Church will continue to love you
dearly but it will never bless your same-sex union and call it marriage.” And that’s the truth.
