CAN CHRISTIANITY and queerness ever be truly reconciled, or are they destined to be diametrically opposed?
With respect to history, the latter is the obvious answer. Hand in hand with the colonial thrust to “civilize backwards societies,” Christianity was instrumental in suppressing queer identities and expressions in indigenous cultures worldwide.
One example in the Philippines is the babaylan. Though archetypally feminine, the role was not limited to women in pre-colonial Philippine society; feminized men could take the position, too. However, the Spaniards’ efforts to convert the natives to Roman Catholicism resulted in the babaylan’s persecution as they were deemed unnatural.
Conflict between Christianity and queerness did not end with colonialism. Perhaps the most prominent example post-World War II would be the crisis of sexual health in the United States during its HIV/AIDS outbreak.
As the epidemic disproportionately affected men who had sex with men, the conservative Reagan administration was notoriously apathetic in its response. Evangelicals in the government opposed sex education initiatives and stalled much research. Consequently, the queer community was subjected to violent homophobia rooted in medical stigma, and thousands of Americans died from the disease.
However, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops was the first church body to stand in solidarity with HIV/AIDS-affected demographics. Though it still opposed extramarital sex and contraceptive use, the Catholic Church nonetheless became the largest charity organizer for HIV/AIDS treatment, citing tenets of “pastoral care.”
Thus, with respect to morality, I believe that Christianity and queerness do not have to be at odds with each other. Christianity, after all, preaches that we must love our neighbors as we love ourselves—and if there is one place that gives me hope, it is the Philippines, where both religion and queerness have cultural footholds.
Unfortunately, homophobia rooted in religion is still very much rampant in the country, as demonstrated by the controversy around drag queen Pura Luka Vega’s “Ama Namin”’ performance.
Whether or not one finds the performance blasphemous, reactions especially from political figures seem disproportionate to the offense, stemming from bigotry as opposed to valid legal reasons. Senate President Juan Miguel Zubiri for instance has threatened to press criminal charges.
In contrast, Mr. Zubiri—who was a Senator for the entirety of former president Rodrigo Duterte’s term—remained silent during the several times Duterte insulted and cursed his God and the Church over a span of six years.
This stark contrast in reactions begs the question of why a private citizen who happens to be a drag queen is deserving of such vitriol, whereas the former president—who is much more influential than Pura Luka Vega—is not.
One does not need religion to be moral. Likewise, I believe that religion can never preclude immorality, especially in the forms of injustice and hatred.
Our faith must show through more than verbal professions—and more than actions, too, for that matter. Our faith must transform our hearts, resulting in goodwill for our neighbors.
Max is an Economics student who is set to graduate from the Ateneo de Manila University in 2024. Ultimately an optimist at heart, she studies various social, cultural, political, and economic issues through an intersectional lens so as to understand the complexity of the human experience.
Editor’s Note: The views and opinions expressed by the opinion writer do not necessarily state or reflect those of the publication.
