The Heterosexual Cisgender Catholic Privilege Checklist: An Examination of Collective Conscience

By Tom, A Peace Teacher

The beginning of an older rite of reconciliation (illustration by author)

As a second-grade child in a Catholic school, I was quite nervous about my First Confession.’ In those days, we did not have ‘reconciliation rooms’ but instead darkened confessionals, with only a creaky kneeler that would trigger a flickering floor light once your bent legs applied their tremblingly prayerful pressure. The narrow, dark room would smell of cement blocks, wood and the noticeably sweaty uniform corduroy pants and tweed skirts of the other kids who survived the experience before you. “How was it?” you might whisper. “Scaaaary,” you’re best friend would mouth back.

Then the priest (you hoped you got the young Irish priest who played kickball with you at lunch, not the scoldy monsignor) would open his translucent tissue panel with an authoritative sliding click and ask you to begin your confession. What to say, what to say?

To help with this, Sister Anne Marie offered us pocket-sized pamphlets somberly called, “An Examination of Conscience for Children.” Once opened, the shiny pages belied their small size, crammed with various types of sins. So many kinds of sins: venial, mortal, omission — some I didn’t know how to pronounce. How could I know if I was such a sinner? Thankfully the book offered a distinct, numbered list. Did I take the Lord’s name in vain? (#3 on the sin parade!), or did I violate the Fifth Precept of the Church (do I need to confess that I ate a bit of my friends’ McDonald’s cheeseburger on a fasting Friday?)

The organization of potential offenses allowed for a thorough inspection of a nine-year old’s conscience, the cartoon ‘angels and devils’ that sat on your shoulder while sitting in a pew line, a particularly long wait if class scoundrel Miguel went in before you. To get a fresh start via a clean and thorough confession is particularly Catholic, a process not ingrained only in my DNA, but also that of anyone who’s ever had a ‘First Confession.’

That experience, with its ritualistic itemization of wrongdoings, reflection and promise of healing, came to mind as I once again utilized a tool that has been successful in my lessons teaching peace and justice issues for many years. Arguably this form of conscience monitoring is more controversial: the ‘Privilege’ checklist.

Peggy Mackintosh and her influential ‘White Privilege Checklist: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack’ are often cited for bringing issues of systemic advantage to popular consciousness as her user-friendly and often startling guide provided a distinctive way for people to look at another type of sin: the social sin of racism, a sin I did notably did not find explicitly in my tiny pamphlet years ago. (note: Mackintosh is white and has worked towards inclusion and examining intesectionality in many areas, particularly in curriculum; black activists have decried the fact that it took a white writer and professor to codify what they had been saying for years so that it was ‘heard’ by white people.) Since that time, it’s also possible to find ‘Male Privilege Checklist’, ‘Ableism Privilege Checklist’, ‘Heterosexual Privilege Checklist’ and more.

The concept of ‘privilege’ is familiar to those in longtime struggles for social justice. But the word ‘privilege’ rankles many, especially those white people (or males, or heterosexual males, etc.) who are quick to point out how they and their fathers ‘worked hard for everything that they got’ — insisting they never had advantage; the defensiveness works like another layer of denial, such personalizing preventing macro-thinking by focusing on micro-example. This repeated ‘but not my family’ rationalization, while perhaps poignant in its devotion to parents, seems to center too much on the word ‘privilege’ itself and not the realities behind it. Yet in my years of experience, no word works: in previous years we have used terms to express the same idea such as ‘status’, ‘dominant power’, ‘positionality’, ‘power over’ and the same rejection of the concept occurs.

Which only seems to illustrate, frankly, ‘privilege.’

The lived experience of many in oppressed groups, who are in a position to see advantage denied them in daily ways, has long been, out of necessity, all too familiar with privilege, and not just as a concept. And in recent weeks, after the social upheavals provoked by the pandemic, the risks being taken by essential workers who are frequently people of color, and of course the continued systemic racial violence we’ve seen against the black and POC communities, ‘privilege’ is getting a moment. I hear it being talked about in unexpected places and by unexpected people, inside and outside of classrooms, and while a strong streak of deniers continue to resist its validity, a growing number of their neighbors seem to be open to the layers of meaning beneath the term than ever before.

And how are they using the particular tool of ‘privilege checklists?’ From reading their posts, as a means of reflection, as a ‘Did I do that?’ or ‘Do I benefit from that?’ focus, as an excavation of unconscious bias that actually requires dedicated time to sit and contemplate, and as an x-ray of the soul.

Privilege Checklists and Examinations of Conscience: the sins are named differently, but no less mortally wounding.

Since I just wrapped a school year in which I continue to hear students talk or write about the pain of discovering their sexual orientation or gender identity is not heteronormative and have heard their fears of church-informed rejection by their communities, the two came together for me. Teaching for as long as I have, I’m well aware that this pain from LGBTQ+ youth and adults, particularly those living within church communities, is not new, and it has resulted in a form of social advantage for the more powerfully dominant group in a way that borders on if not crosses over to pathology. It is very far away from Christ’s teachings.

Looking over my own spiritual journey of several decades as a gay Catholic man, my observations from within my social and ‘identifying’ circles, and consulting with a trusted colleague who identifies with the transgender community, I composed this addition to the canon of checklists. It’s a toss in the pond, another ripple in the many ripples that need to be part of our dialogue today if we are going to wake up to the signs of the times and authentically repent for those who have been left outside orbiting the ‘universal church.’

Speaking to my heterosexual Catholic and cisgender friends more boldly about these feelings over the years (feelings so long buried in fear, shame and censorship) in friendly conversations, there were enough affirmations of ‘I never thought of it that way’ that made me hope this could be helpful. The risk of accusations of arrogance which might be levied against a writer of another privilege checklist are worth absorbing when I consider the urgency of helping not only our watchful youth, but anyone of any age who is singing not a psalm in the pew, but a tortuous and prolonged lamentation.

Privilege checklists are written in the voice of the person who theoretically or in reality has the ‘unearned advantage’ in order to understand the lived experience of those who experience the systemic oppression.

In that spirit, for Catholics and members of other churches who can identify, I express this as a catalyst for discussion, communal reflection and dialogue, since in the Church itself, there are so few authoritatively permitted spaces for LGBTQ+ Catholics to state their concerns. The result is so many leave their faith of origin, so many leave faith altogether, and some exist on a promise of acceptance that is one step away from hardening into despair.

And if you don’t see this as a matter of life and death, well…that’s your privilege.

The Heterosexual (sexually attracted to persons of the opposite gender) Cisgender (denoting a person whose of personal identity and gender corresponds with their birth sex) Catholic (Roman Catholic, largest Christian denomination in the world) Privilege Checklist: An Examination of Conscience.

“As a Heterosexual Cisgender Catholic…”

1. When we are at Mass and sing “All are welcome in this place”, I never think: except me.
2. I am not told from an altar, lectern stand or confirmation class whiteboard that who I am attracted to is a ‘choice’ or a ‘preference.’
3. When my partner and I are invited to bring the gifts to the altar at the offertory, people smile at me warmly and do not think it scandalous or controversial.
4. I can be open about my sexual orientation and gender identity and expect that another parishioner will extend their sincere greeting to me at the Sign of Peace.
5. When my parent dies, at the funeral liturgy I can be assured that the celebrant will freely offer me the consolation of the Eucharist and communion. If I have a partner who supports me and also grieves, I can be sure that they will be welcomed and mentioned in the ceremony remarks and eulogy.
6. When I attend Marriage Encounter or Engaged Couple retreats, I can be assured that couples who look like me and share my orientation will be leading.
7. I do not hear my private sexual behavior described by clergy or teachers as clearly ‘unnatural’ because the ‘body parts do not fit.’
8. If I am asked to be a godparent, nobody will balk or object based on my sexual orientation or gender identity.
9. If I am a high school student, I can give a retreat talk about even my most difficult challenges and secrets and not worry that I might be taken aside and asked to reconsider in ways that other students are not.
10. If I am an adult leader at a Catholic school or parish sponsored retreat, I can signal and indicate my sexual orientation or gender identity freely, even as I speak about important and growth-inducing life experiences or setbacks. I am allowed to give my full and honest ‘retreat talk’ without fear of retribution or scandal.
11. My sexual orientation is not blamed for the violence of the Church abuse scandals.
12. My sexual orientation, gender identity or gender presentation are not exclusionary factors if I choose to serve the faithful as clergy.
13. If I am a nun or a priest, I can freely indicate that I had past romantic relationships in amusing anecdotes as I teach or preach.
14. If I work in Catholic schools, I can be assured that if I am gossiped about or bullied, it is not because of my sexual orientation, gender identity or gender presentation, and that administrations will defend me and work to solve the problem.
15. I am assured that people will speak to me with the name and pronouns I use.
16. When educators, youth ministers, RCIA-leaders, confirmation class teachers and priests hear about my sexual orientation, they do not immediately feel the need to warn me against promiscuous sexual activity.
17. I do not hear the phrase ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ presented as a logical argument against my sexual orientation or gender identity.
18. I am not patronizingly told ‘you can be whatever you want’ in reference to my sexual orientation and then told, ‘As long as you don’t act on it.’
19. I can freely read many articles and online posts which involve my sexual orientation or gender identity without scrolling down and reading ‘MORTAL SIN’ or ‘REPENTANCE’ or ‘SAVE FROM THE FIRES OF HELL!’ in the comments section from extreme-right Catholic ‘traditionalists.’
20. I am not given a pamphlet or business card from a diocese-approved counseling service that specializes in ‘converting’ me from my sexual orientation by a parish leader or clergy. My orientation or gender identity is not referred to in those pamphlets as ‘sexual brokenness.’
21. All saints are portrayed as sharing my sexual orientation, even if they are celibate or their writings indicate otherwise.
22. Books or lectures that teach or theorize about saints’ sexual orientation or gender non-conformity, or those of members of the Early Church, are not censored or silenced.
23. At large catechetical or church professional development gatherings, I can be assured there will be multiple workshops, liturgies and language that will address the particular challenges involved in my knowledge of self, marriage, relationships and family.
24. My sexual orientation or gender identity is not ever referred to as an ‘open secret’ among parishioners or institutional staff.
25. I do not internalize the message that God ‘made a mistake’ when God made me. I do not think that my decisions to have gender-affirming surgeries mar the perfect body God gave me.
26. My sexual orientation, gender identity and gender expression are not described in the Catechism of the Church as ‘intrinsically disordered’ or against ‘natural law’, even though I experience them as ordered and natural within myself.
27. Celibate bishops from different countries speak about my sexual orientation, gender identity and relationships with praise and discussions of ‘sacredness.’
28. These same bishops do not argue about my sexual orientation or gender identity as dramatic and damning evidence of the ‘secularization of the Church’, the ‘corruptions of the modern world’ or leading catastrophically to the ‘breakdown of the family’, the Church and the world at gatherings and synods.
29. Clergy, teaches and church leaders who affirm my sexual orientation and gender identity are not seen as ‘brave’, ‘rogue’, ‘in need of prayer’, ‘against the Church’, ‘the devil in disguise’, ‘the anti-Christ’, and they are not sent existential threats, ‘spied on’ with hidden cameras and recording equipment, protested publicly or targeted on far-right websites.
30. I do not hear that God made only men and women, explicitly stating that my gender identity does not exist.
31. My sexual orientation or gender identity is not cited as the reasons for the collapse of synods, of hierarchy in-fighting, or for causing schisms in the Church.
32. The Supreme Court does not hear cases about whether or not a Catholic adoption agency has the right to exclude me from their services based on my sexual orientation, gender identity and/or relationships.
33. If my longtime partner or spouse dies or is sick, I can be assured that I will receive support from parish ministries.
34. If I am an acclaimed liturgical music coordinator or singer for my parish liturgies, I can be assured that I can also speak of my sexual orientation freely without parishioners recoiling or getting uncomfortable.
35. If I am a priest, I can be assured the parish doesn’t gossip about my sexual orientation with whispers like ‘I wish he would just come out,’ ‘poor guy’ or ‘everybody knows anyway.’
36. If I teach in a Catholic school, I can be ‘out’ about my sexual orientation by having pictures of my family and loved ones on my desk without worrying about being fired, bullied or told to take them down because they ’cause scandal’ or go against the ‘morality’ clause of my contract.
37. Pictures of me earlier in life, featuring different hair styles and fashion, will not be used against me.
38. Writing about the intersection of faith and sexual orientation or gender identity and publishing it will not be used against me.
39. I can be assured that decisions about the education, employment and ministry to young and adult people with my sexual orientation or gender identity are decided on by people of my sexual orientation or gender identity.
40. I do not have to drive to work seeing lawn signs and bumper stickers provided by Catholic dioceses that say my relationships are a threat to ‘strong families’ or do not ‘protect marriage.’
41. I can be assured that ‘Bible Study’ leaders, homilists, classroom religion teachers and scholarly article writers will teach about the complex historical, linguistic and contextual nuances of interpreting scripture and not abandon those skills when it comes to verses applied to my sexual orientation or gender identity.
42. If I have a longtime relationship, my notable anniversary will be featured in parish bulletins, liturgies and with warm comments from the pulpit.
43. I can bring my children into Mass and be assured it will not provoke a whispering campaign, or worse.
44. I can expect my life milestones (such as coming out, gender affirming surgery, etc.) will be recognized.
45. When I hear about great leaders of social justice and inspiration from the Social Justice ministries in my church, I know their sexual orientation, gender identification and relationships will not be erased.
46. When I sing ‘Be Not Afraid’, I do not think of the death threats that have been made due to my sexual orientation or gender identity. If I am a young person singing the hymn, I do not think about fears that my family and/or friends will accept me if I disclose my orientation or gender identity to them.
47. When great injustices and tragedies occur to my community, I can feel comfort knowing Church and parish leaders will acknowledge the pain, speak respectfully to me about the events in ways that honor my community and language, and mourn in solidarity with me.
48. If I get married or have a child and work in a Catholic school or ministry, my major life events will be acknowledged at faculty meetings, co-worker ‘showers’ and casual personal congratulations. If co-workers want to attend my wedding or outside of work celebrations, I do not hear them say, ‘I want to attend, but well, you know…’
49. I do not hear at Mass that I am a member of the ‘Mystical Body of Christ’ and then later at Donut Ministry hear people tell me that they cannot accept me because in their culture, they are taught differently about sexual orientation and gender identity.
50. If I am a youth, I can point to a number of teachers, parish leaders and coaches who share my sexual orientation or gender identity and who are allowed to guide and mentor me without fears expressed about predation and corruption.
51. I do not worry that I will get a scolding or unusually severe penance, silence or rejection during the Sacrament of Reconciliation if I disclose my sexual orientation or gender identity.
52. If I work in any capacity for the Catholic Church, I do not start each day wondering, ‘Is this the day I lose my job?’
53. My sexual orientation or gender identity or gender expression is not a cause for co-workers, parishioners or students to post about me maliciously or disapprovingly online. In fact, if I receive any harassment, I can be assured that my overall well-being will be protected.
54. ‘Progressive’ or ‘liberal’ Catholics do not lean in to me and whisper, ‘I don’t care who you sleep with — it’s none of my business’ as proof of their tolerance.
55. I am not held to a higher celibacy standard than others. I am not told that my sexual orientation in itself is a ‘cross to bear’ that will lead me to have a ‘special closeness to God’ by denying what feels natural to me.
56. If I am at a family movie night at the parish, when characters with my sexual orientation kiss, I do not hear ‘ewww’ and uncomfortable laughter. Afterwards, there is not a ‘special discussion’ to process the scene.
57. People do not balk or laugh nervously and joke ‘what are all those letters again?’ when referring to established labels for my community.
58. I can wake up in the morning without being greeted by headlines about my government and my Church interacting to decide whether I am entitled to basic rights.
59. As a child, young adult, adult or mature elder, I do not think of killing myself because I have internalized the oppression of my pro-life and loving church community.
60. This space, and more, are left for LGBTQ+ Catholics to include their own, frequently painful, frequently soul and spirit crushing, frequently exclusionary examples of heterosexual cisgender privilege in the Catholic community. Caution: the list could be centuries long.

Notes:

A) To the question, why is the list so long?, consider this direction given about the practice found at ‘BeginningCatholic.com’: “It’s important for a good Catholic examination of conscience to be thorough. This will help you learn about things that you may not be aware of. It’s also a chance to develop your conscience.”

B) The Jesuits practice a particular form of examination of conscience as put forth in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. It is called the Examen. A far simpler version of reflection, though it can produce complex feelings and realizations. An examen form of the above checklist could be just as provocative, and could be expressed like this: How has the Catholic church expressed the fullness of God’s loving embrace to LGBTQ persons in the past? How is the church expressing the fullness of God’s loving embrace to LGBTQ persons today? Where is the church being led to express the fullness of God’s loving embrace in the future?

C) An even more succinct way to reframe: What if the Catholic church didn’t look at its LGBTQ members as a problem to be solved, but instead, a unique gift to the Body of Christ to be celebrated? What if it’s not LGBTQ persons who have sinned?