An Other-Centered Heart: Becoming "One" Through Empathy and Understanding

I just posted about the perfect union I believe we will all know with one another in Heaven.  Early in the post, I mentioned how my desire for this unity may have manifested itself as my strong desire to have an identical twin brother.  I said that the desire to have someone who practically had the same body as me, who was so identical as to almost seem to share my thoughts, would be the closest thing besides marriage to sharing "one flesh" and otherwise being "one."

Thinking more about this, I believe that there is another way.  It's true, having someone be so profoundly identical to you might be an easy way to feel like the two of you are "one," but "easy" is not the same as "only."  This other way is difficult.  It's time consuming, and at times may seem infuriating.  But it's also a very Christian response to the problem.  Christianity often asks of us that we pull up our sleeves and put in a little elbow grease.

But do be a dear and keep it away from the sheets and linens.

This alternative is empathy and compassion.  It's that simple.  I said, in my last entry, that I believe that in Heaven we will each know what it is to "be" each other person, not because we are not distinct persons from each other, but because our distinctions will not constitute division.  This would be a unity not because of uniformity, but in spite of how different and unique we will each be from one another.  The union of Heaven will "bridge the gap" between the differences that make us special, so that even out of variety complete unity will exist.  Well, if that's the case, it makes sense that we can have something similar here "on Earth, as it is in Heaven."

How do I bridge the gap between myself and a brother in Christ who is "not like me?"  When the body through which another experiences the world is so vastly different from mine, when the opinions and thoughts of another seem at odds with my own way of thinking, how do I close the the distance?  I think it's by making a genuine effort to understand my brother.  I have to try to see the world as he sees it, to comprehend what it must feel like and be like to see with his eyes and "live in his skin."  Figuratively, of course.

Okay, I think I just lost my appetite.
(Then you'd better keep FAR from those sheets and linens!!)

Maybe there's some opinion or taste in whatever that a brother has that I can't buy for a second.  I may think he's infuriatingly wrong, or "off."  Okay.  It's fine that I have strong opinions that conflict with his, and I am under no obligation to change them for the sake of being closer with him.  Instead, can I see that it's also fine that he has strong opinions that conflict with mine?  Can I at least try to wrap my mind around how and why he is the way he is?  This will obviously never be perfect.  If I truly understood why someone was different from me, I myself  might be different.

To be sure, this requires that I fortify myself in my own identity, beliefs, tastes, or else I will risk losing myself.  A journey that starts out for mere understanding could become a journey instead of discarding who I am and putting on the identity of another.  Rather than bearing any similarity to the oneness in Heaven, it would be more like self-annihilation; I have not, in that case, become one with the other, I have destroyed myself so that the other is the only one who remains, which is a counterfeit oneness.  So by all means, be strong, be sure of who you are and what you stand for before you try this.  But once you do have that strength and that certainty, a little empathy can go a long way.

So the key to unity is not (always) uniformity, but understanding.  Whoever you understand and comprehend, you are to some extent "one" with him.  You can almost grasp what it is to be him.  And if that grasp is strong enough, you might even find your heart spontaneously moved for him even over things that wouldn't personally matter to you.  That's when you know that the magic of unity is really happening.  When in some strange way, the pains and joys of another are truly your own.  In some way, when you've reached that point, you'll have a foretaste of being one with your brothers and sisters just as it will be in Heaven.

"Well That Escalated Quickly..."

...is what you'll be saying when I admit, in only my second post, that I happen to be attracted to men.  I'm also, as I said before, married to a woman, and happily so.  Add to that the fact that I'm a practicing Catholic who actually believes what the Catholic Church teaches* (hey, what a novel idea, amiright?), and you start to put together the picture that although I'm attracted to men, the gay lifestyle is not for me.

Now, this is not a topic that I intend for the blog to be exclusively about.  I'm bringing it up so early on because I know it's a topic that could make some readers squeamish.  And yet the topic does have a pretty big impact in my life, so you can expect to read more about it in future posts.  So it's better that you brace yourself for it now, so that those of you in the "People like that should really just keep it to themselves" crowd can run, post haste, for the hills.

Screaming Optional

A few things to get out of the way, now that this actually-common-as-dirt revelation is out there (I mean, it seems rather popular these days for men with same sex attraction to blog about it, so am I really breaking any new ground here?):  Yes, my wife knows.  Yes, she's known since before we dated.  Yes, we're happy.  Yes I really do love her, and I do enjoy our "private" life.  No, you can't have her.  Whatever your gender may be.

How does this impact my life?  Well, there's the obvious:  It can present a cross, a source of temptation, the proverbial "thorn in the flesh."  Mine is not a pretty, pre-packaged success story.  This has caused some real pain, some real struggles.  I've known guilt, shame, and failure, I've stared them each in the face, shaken hands with them, and walked away feeling the grimier for it (Where's the Germ-X when I need it?).  

But thanks be to God there has also been beauty, things I'm not sure I would have ever known if I didn't have this struggle.  I've experienced real love from some of the people closest to me.  Not the condescending "I love you anyway" love, and not the superficial "I love you because there's nothing wrong with two men sleeping together" kind of love (honestly, what's so earth shatteringly generous about loving someone whom you don't think is ever tempted to do anything wrong in the first place?); no, I've known love that puts a face to Christ's love.  

My brother has told me that he's not sure he would want me any other way, because he likes the way I am.  I found one of the best friends a guy could ask for because we both share this cross.  I've made profound connections with others, through commiseration and fellowship, whom I would have never even met if I'd never known what it was to be attracted to other men.  I wouldn't trade that for the gift of being "straight."  I've also experienced amazing proof of my wife's love for me, by her bearing patiently with me in all this, that it takes some couples years to have truly tested and proved in their marriages.

And finally, it's thanks to the same sex attractions that I have been more open to something that is a passion to me, something that I will probably blog about often:  Close male friendship.  In our society, there are still vestiges of a taboo about two men being extremely close.  If two men love each other, are affectionate with each other, need each other, and make no apology for it, it's still at least mildly suspected of being "more" than friendship.  And many men are afraid to really let themselves feel that.  "What if it means I'm gay?"  Well, for me, that ship has long since sailed, so I feel free to just admit to myself my deep emotional need for the male friends closest to me.  That means all the world to me; and I suspect I would have held back if not for my same sex attraction.  

But it doesn't really matter whether I accept this cross or hate it.  It's mine to bear, so I may as well learn to appreciate whatever good it can offer.  Fortunately, I'm pretty sure God knew what He was doing when He allowed me to be burdened with it.  

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NOTE:  If the day comes when you're reading this as someone who already knew me, especially when I was a kid, and you think this is "obvious news," please give this other post a read.

* The Catholic Church teaches that sex is intended to be only between one man and one woman who are married and who do not deliberately render the sex act infertile; this obviously means people in my shoes are not supposed to act on any sexual desires we have for the same gender.  Part of being Catholic is to accept what the Church and Scriptures teach, so I do.  This doesn't mean I've been perfect at following those teachings throughout my life, it just means I submit to them as true and valid and that I, not the Church or Scriptures, am in the wrong if I stray from them.