When We Have to Speak Out

by Dr Raymond Perrier · Published April 12, 2023 · Updated April 12, 2023

Pope Francis greets the crowd as he arrives to celebrate Mass at the John Garang Mausoleum in Juba, South Sudan, Feb. 5, 2023. (CNS photo/Paul Haring)

There was a time in history when the rules of the Church were the law of the land — and this was true across most of Western Europe. If the Church said you must go to Mass on a Sunday but you did not, you were committing a crime. If the Church said you must not eat meat on a Friday but you did, you could be fined.

Today, we find this idea faintly absurd. Of course, there are laws which reflect the Church’s moral code — such as not killing or not stealing — but that is because they are part of a more widely held moral view and they are public acts that do harm to others.

But I think we would find it rather embarrassing if, for example, the Church’s teaching against adultery was once again a criminal offence. Should people really be arrested for breaking their marriage vows? In fact, there were still laws against adultery in parts of Europe until the 1980s, and Ireland legalised divorce only in 1996.

Part of our discomfort is the idea that people should be compelled to be good, rather than choosing to behave virtuously. Is that really what it is to lead a moral life? When we are more concerned about the law than about the moral principle, we soon become like the driver who slows down when passing a speed camera and then immediately accelerates away again.

Of course, there are still countries which are theocracies (rule by religious leaders). They are generally conservative Islamic regimes that feel they have the right to impose their views on everyone who lives in the country, whether or not they belong to the religion. Often these laws go against our widely held sense of the equality of all people.

Under apartheid, religious “justifications” were used to create laws that oppressed the majority of people; it is religion that is still used to justify laws in some places that tell women how they should dress or whether they can study, drive or attend football matches.

The Church now recognises that its role is not to be a moral policeman but to serve as a moral compass: guiding people on how to lead a good life, not compelling them to do so through legislation or criminal punishment.

The role of the law is rather to ensure that basic principles are defended. One of those is the essential equality of all human beings. For the Church, this is a basic theological tenet grounded in the very first chapter of Genesis: each human being created in the image and likeness of God. The Universal Declaration on Human Rights reaches the same conclusion, though without the theological language.

As a moral compass, the Church thus plays an important role of reminding us what this radical equality requires of us. When marginal groups — such as refugees, or the disabled, or indigenous peoples, or the poor — are treated as if they do not have rights, the Church has the authority and the duty to speak up, to be “a voice for the voiceless”, and to remind us of our human commitment to each other.

Pope for the oppressed

That is exactly what Pope Francis did recently, and he made the point together with the leaders of the Church of England and the Church of Scotland. And he did so in Africa. He identified an oppressed group of people and he spoke out for them. But the response of at least some members of the Church was not supportive, because Pope Francis was criticising the multiple anti-gay laws that exist in many African countries (Christian and Muslim) and describing them as “unjust”.

This was not a random comment. A few weeks earlier the Zambian bishops had wholeheartedly supported a raft of anti-gay legislation, claiming religious justification for this. And it was only a few years ago that Ugandan bishops refused to condemn a new law that would have made homosexuality a capital offence.

I am sure these bishops would cite Scripture to support their moral condemnation of homosexuality. And Pope Francis agrees with them in terms of morality, since he has made it clear that he upholds the Church’s moral teaching on this issue. But the point the pope makes is that just because something is a sin, that does not mean it should be a crime.

Francis showed that he is aware that such legislation — however good the intent might be — becomes a means for a group to be further marginalised, blackmailed and terrorised. In this he is following the instruction of the Catechism (#2358) that “people with homosexual tendencies…must be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. Every sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided”. That, too, is the teaching of the Church.

If the Church is serious about being a voice for the voiceless, then that has to include people whose morality the Church may not agree with but who are still deserving of treatment as children of the one God.

Voiceless for the voiceless

There are Church leaders, including here in South Africa, who are never slow to condemn LGBTQI people and seem not to care if their comments and tweets are used by others to justify violence and harassment. There are also Church leaders who say nothing: they avoid joining in the condemnation but they also miss the opportunity to speak out against injustice. They are the voiceless for the voiceless.

But there are people in our community who, like Pope Francis, are prepared to name injustice when they see it, even if it makes others uncomfortable.

I was recently with a group of principals and aspiring leaders from Catholic schools and they were doing a simulated exercise to select a new teacher. One of the fictional candidates was described as “rumoured to be gay”. Having done this exercise with other groups, I have seen this candidate specifically rejected as unsuitable (the word rumoured being conveniently overlooked) or just being quietly sidelined because he was awkward.

But on this occasion, one of the groups chose this candidate over all the others. One participant explained: “We are supposed to be a compassionate and welcoming Church. We should consider this candidate because others would not have the courage to do so.” And then a principal from a rural Zulu school added his voice: “Plus, we should choose him because we have students in our school who are gay and lesbian, and they should have a teacher who can be a model for them.”

Ironically, one specific area in which the Church has supported anti-gay legislation in many countries (including the UK and the USA) is in the assertion of the right to fire a teacher who is known to be gay, with elaborate theological justification for this position.

While some of our religious leaders continue to support, or just ignore, anti-gay legislation, the principals on this leadership course seemed to have an instinctive understanding of the Gospel.

And when we actually read those Gospels, we discover that Jesus has nothing at all to say about sexual orientation, but has lots of criticism for religious leaders who oppress others and act hypocritically.