Mezzo: the in-between

Panic was the emotion. The urgent need to escape. Doors sealing off and options limiting themselves, just one last door ajar screaming at me from across the room, a door opening to a cliff’s edge. This couldn’t be happening.

They had saved messages and photos, and threatened me with exposure. I felt my life on the line, unraveling with message after message.

A voice told me, “You deserve this. And it is all over.”

Layers of skin ripped off and stolen. Just a lump of open wounds dragging itself across the floor, listening to the siren song of the cliff’s edge. I wasn’t the only one hurt, and I had run out of coping mechanisms.

Somehow I forced myself to type “988” into my phone, to triage from helpline to friend.

Survival in the minutes and hours and days and weeks afterwards was a group effort.

But, having been exposed, maybe I had a chance for new skin.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Years before, I sat in a repurposed home in New Brighton, Minnesota. She was this Asian lady with a PhD in psychology. A Catholic, but “progressive,” which made me skeptical.

I told her I wanted to be celibate, and she said, “So you want to be asexual?” But she’d given enough helpful tools that I chose to keep going.

We talked about my parents, my childhood, college, the first time I fell in love, heartbreak, faith, masturbation, pornography. She asked me, “Do you think that you sought out pornography because that was the only place that you could find connection for that part of yourself?”

I remember the first time I saw porn. My seventh grade computer teacher told the class that porn was prohibited at school. I wonder how many other Catholic school students did what I did. Sitting at the desktop at home that evening, I couldn’t remember the word. I googled “k-o-r-n”. The results did seem pretty bad.

Then I remembered. “p-o-r-n”.

I carry a vague memory of the first image I saw.

I spent a lot of time in front of that computer, searching and searching and searching.

Other boys might have searched and then left the screen and tried to figure out how to relate to actual girls. They might have discovered that love with touchable skin is really different from what they saw on the screen.

I didn’t make that discovery. There were no discoveries for me. There was no transition from boys on a screen to boys in real life.

Once, my father tried to talk to me about the computer history. I lied. Half-truths kept me alive.

I was a golden child, a perfect Catholic boy. I had nowhere else to go, other than that computer screen. I gave it my secrets, and it gave me relief.

I later discovered that you could trade these secrets, that others sought this too. You could find them on the internet. The one safe place. Until it isn’t.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The F.B.I. has confirmed that more than 20 teenagers faced “sextortion” and died by suicide between 2021 and 2023. This is becoming a common practice. Scammers target teenage boys, pose as attractive women on Instagram, solicit explicit photos, and then threaten to ruin their lives if they don’t pay up. A New York Times article detailed these scams and included a screenshot of one message:

“Hey I have ur nudes and everything needed to ruin your life, i have screenshot all ur follers and tags and those that comment on ur post. I can send this nudes to everyone till it hi go virals or send this to ur school and u know u will be expelled from school... u will be exempt from universities if u don't cooperate...all u have to do is to cooperate with me and i will not expose u ,if u block me i will ruin your life”

In that article, Mike Prado from the Homeland Security Investigations Cyber Crimes Center emphasizes the need to educate. He says that for kids who are the targets of these scams, “It is important to note your world is not over.”

We like to think that kids can turn to parents and will find support. But I have friends whose parents found out about their sexuality and kicked them out of their homes. In the name of Christianity. In the name of God.

Sometimes God can feel like a sextortioner. He puts these desires in you, and then he threatens you with homelessness if you let anyone find out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sometimes you have to die to find another God.

Thank God for my parents.

Thank God for another God.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Last month, I posted a tweet about reading Dignitatis Infinita while waiting for a date to arrive. A friend messaged me, sharing that an hour later a guy named Jim Russell had posted a screenshot of my tweet. Russell included the caption, “Catholic dude who ‘dates’ others dues gonna read new DDF doc on human dignity before his ‘date’ shows up…”

I had blocked (former Deacon) Jim Russell after years of receiving constant jabs and unsolicited comments from him. But even after being blocked, his preoccupation with me continued.

He hasn’t been the only one. While in law school, I wrote regularly in defense of Church teaching on homosexuality. A much older man took issue with it. He asked very personal questions in response to my online posts. Then he tried reaching out to me over email, again and again. I didn’t respond. Then he called my law school trying to reach me. Through a mentor, I communicated to him that if he continued to do this I would get an attorney involved. He stopped. I changed my social media handles.

Today, a handful of anonymous accounts linger around my social media pages. I don’t respond to them. I wonder what they want from me. I have my suspicions. They are always there.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had people trying to “expose” me, people trying to reach me, people trying to control me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

While I was recovering, a friend loaned me Brené Brown’s I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn’t). Brown writes about the dynamics of shame, developing resilience and empathy, and how blame and shame inhibit our ability to change. We must make “the journey from ‘what will people think’ to ‘I am enough.’”

Am I enough? Am I enough, with this history?

We want to be wanted, found, touched, seen, appreciated for who we are, or at least for who we think we are, or at least for who we think can possibly get some little bit of intimacy and connection in this world. I’ve sought these, in my own little ways. At times through online encounters, sharing photos or lurid bits of text, exchanging secrets.

My philosophy professor had talked about how college students take off their clothes in order to be seen, but, in reality, it is as if they slip into a suit of skin that makes them less exposed than before. We are both more seen and not seen at all.

I’ve liked to believe I have full control of what I share. But control is an illusion. In the digital age, there’s so much that can be stored away and that never really leaves, that is never really deleted, whatever you think you might have done on your smartphone. I look back to that time in my life where I had shared in private, messages that I thought were between two people, where I thought we were operating under shared norms but that, I found out too late, applied to me but not the other party.

They gathered messages, messages that I’m still really embarrassed about but that I need to find a way to live with.

I survived the incident. And that person, and the words we shared, faded into my history. But I suspect they’re still out there, and one day could resurface.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the months after the exposure, I asked myself what I had wanted.

Connection.

To be seen.

To be wanted.

To feel taken care of.

To be desired.

To desire.

To feel alive.

To spread wings beyond the parameters of the cage.

To share my skin, and to be loved.

As a child, I went to the beach and wore board shorts and no sunscreen. “I have island skin,” I said once. “I only wear sunscreen when I go to Guam.” And, even then, sometimes I didn’t. I burned.

As an adult, I wear short shorts and lots of sunscreen. I am more exposed, but protected all over.

In January, I used the Jennifer Fulwiler generator to identify a word of the year and a saint of the year. I got “indulge” and St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein). So I decided to indulge myself by making my 2024 the year of Edith Stein, the year in which I will read all of her collected works. On Holy Saturday I finished her autobiography, Life in a Jewish Family. And I recently finished the second volume, Woman.

Woman is a collection of essays and lectures completed between 1928 and 1932. These were the years following Stein’s conversion to Catholicism, with teaching and lecturing, often for associations of Catholic academics or Catholic women educators. Stein was a rising star among German intellectuals. Freda Mary Oben, the English translator of Woman, writes that Stein “became the intellectual leader of the Association of Catholic Women Teachers.” Stein did this until she was forced out of her teaching position by the Nazi government in 1933, and shortly after she became a Discalced Carmelite nun.

Woman surprised me. In these essays and lectures, Stein explores the nature of woman and femininity, the formation and education of girls, the role of women in society, and the role of educators. As with Life in a Jewish Family, the text feels timely and relevant today, even though its words were first delivered almost a century ago. She cuts across common Catholic divides today, both validating stereotypes about men and women and also challenging them, both looking at woman as a “species” who is impelled towards a particular type of humanity and also insisting that woman at the individual level should be given space to work outside of the confines of a type.

I’ll outline below some interesting ideas and passages from the book. What I share below is not necessarily an endorsement of Stein’s views as such. But I do endorse that these views are worthy of consideration and engagement, and so I will accompany some of them with my own questions and considerations.

You haven’t slept with enough people to be a Saint Augustine

In her introduction to Woman, Oben emphasizes the need for “harmony” and “balance” in the education of woman. Oben writes, “In these essays, Stein teaches the woman how to be a balanced and fulfilled person in today’s world.” Oben further writes:

“A balanced development of one faculty is a favorable precondition for a corresponding development of other faculties. The equilibrium of all faculties advances the development of the single faculty… An unbalanced development of personality may come about through a one-sided development of faculties and even by the absence of the means for proper development; this situation leads inevitably to conflicts or defects in religious attitude.”

I laughed out loud when I read this. I’m grateful to have read Stein’s autobiography shortly before Woman, partly because Stein’s actual life provides a counterbalance to some of these theoretical views. Stein’s childhood and adolescence (into her twenties) do not suggest balance. In Life in a Jewish Family, Stein writes that the “constant exertion of all my powers gave me an exhilarating feeling of living a very full life,” such that she saw herself vainly as “a richly endowed and highly privileged creature.” She recounts at one point how she “‘clung to life’ so little” because of her intellectual preoccupations. In her early twenties she writes about her “long hours of work, the little sleep, the indifference about my meals, and the lack of recreation.” This was so extreme that a friend, concerned about Stein not eating, got Stein to agree to go to meals with her.

Stein may have found “balance” later in life. But “balance” was not what made Stein into a great saint and intellectual. The ideal formation for girls presented by Oben’s introduction may produce a “balanced” woman, but it may not necessarily produce an Edith Stein. If you want to be an Edith Stein, you might be better off spending an “unhealthy” amount of time in the library, annoying your family by your neglect of them at times because of your intellectual preoccupations, and having friends who force you to get dinners with them because you don’t do a good job of making sure that you eat (again, because you are so preoccupied by your intellectual life).

In general, I find it helpful to read the ideals of Catholic thinkers against the actual lives of great Catholics. Sometimes when I hear people wanting to emulate, for example, Saint Augustine, I think, “You haven’t slept with enough people to be a Saint Augustine.” The personal histories of great saints were an extremely important part of what made them into who they would become. Augustine the saint could not have been been produced without Augustine the sinner. And Edith Stein the great teacher, thinker, writer, philosopher, nurse, and saint could not have been produced without the remarkably unbalanced child and adolescent Edith Stein. We can offer a critique of some of Stein’s theoretical positions with… Edith Stein herself.

This helps to demonstrate the Church’s need for saints. Real lives tend to challenge our conceptual views (which Stein herself will acknowledge). And the Church needs all her saints, but not every saint is for everyone. We are offered the saints in all of their individuality, because we are each in possession of our own individuality and thus can find guides and helpers best suited to our unique histories and callings.

On the “subordination” of woman

Edith Stein makes a number arguments regarding the “subordination and obedience” of women to men. To the chagrin of many readers today (including myself), Stein endorses such subordination. But she brings her own nuances to the idea. In her 1930 essay “The Ethos of Women’s Professions,” Stein writes that “the duty of obedience” of wife to husband “is probably derived less from the feminine individuality than from the natural vocation of man as guide and protector of his wife.” This suggests that the “subordination” of woman does not manifest from woman’s own being, but from a responsibility on the part of man. This subordination arises out of man’s living out his natural vocation as guide and protector. To the extent man fails to do so, I would argue, the “subordination” which Stein discusses fails to manifest itself as a reasonable expectation or true reality.

Likewise, in her 1932 essay “Problems of Women’s Education,” Stein writes that the subordination of woman to man does not mean she is created for a servile position. She writes of the belief that woman was created for man’s sake (as his “helpmate”):

“It does not seem to me that this means that woman was created only for the sake of man; for every creature has its own meaning… Nor do I understand that woman is denigrated by having been created ‘for man’s sake unless it is misunderstood as it very well could be after the degeneracy of both sexes as a result of the Fall, i.e., that she is to serve man’s own ends and satisfy his lust. That was not intended for the companion standing side by side with him over all other creatures. Rather, by her free, personal decision to be his helpmate, she enables him to become what he is intended to be.”

For Stein, woman cannot be forced into the position of “helpmate” to man. This must come from her own personal and free decision. And even when she takes on this role, it does not mean this is her only role, or that this role is without limits. A man who forces a woman into this role against her will, or who reduces a woman to only this role, denigrates both of the sexes and acts against the nature and vocation of both man and woman.

In her 1931 lecture, “The Separate Vocations of Man and Woman According to Nature and Grace,” Stein discusses the reasoning behind “subordination.” She writes: “the leadership in this community of life is proper to the man as the one who was created first.” And in “Problems of Women’s Education,” she discusses what “St. Thomas means when he calls ma…

This is the third part of my recorded conversation with Danny Peterson. In this part, we discuss his experience as a closeted priest on Grindr, how certain presentations of Catholic theology contribute to addictive cycles, angers and fears towards the Church, getting clarity from a seven-foot crucifix in the back of his car, his advice for closeted priests who may be struggling with chastity, and how he uses the beautiful and empowering things he learned in the seminary and priesthood to serve others today. Please note that this conversation includes adult language and themes and may not be suitable for young children.

This is the second part of my recorded conversation with Danny Peterson. Danny is a former Catholic priest who now lives as an openly gay man. In this part of our conversation, we discuss his struggle to integrate his sexuality with his life as a priest, conversion therapy narratives in the life of the Church, how homosexuality shows up in seminary formation, the rumors about McCarrick during his seminary days, scandals that his diocese kept secret, and where he’s been able to find healing and integration. Please note that this conversation includes adult language and themes and may not be suitable for young children.

The next part will be released next week. Paying subscribers can get early access here.

In this three-part recorded conversation, I speak with Danny Peterson about what leads priests to Grindr. We talk about his own history as a Catholic priest, how he was referred for conversion therapy by the Franciscans, how McCarrick was able to operate in his diocese, coming to terms with his own double life, and what it means for him to flourish today. Please note that this conversation has some adult language and themes and may not be suitable for young children.

The next part will be released next week. Paying subscribers can get early access here.

If you are interested in further exploring some topics discussed here, you can check out the below posts:

* The Catholic approach to homosexuality is a pyramid scheme

* Love thy neighbor: Elizabeth Anscombe, queer identities, and what it means to believe someone

* Catholic promotion of conversion therapy: the list

* An ex-gay encyclopedia for Catholics

* The Church sent him to conversion therapy: a recorded conversation with Scott Herr

* Catholicism and conversion therapy: how I survived

* Catholicism and conversion therapy: a recorded conversation with Christopher Dowling

* My diocese’s seminarians went through conversion therapy, and didn’t know it

* Getting to the root of conversion therapy

This is a recorded conversation about abuse that occurs in Catholic communities, and how those communities respond. I spoke with Clare Friis, who was abused as a child by a parishioner in her community. Years later, she came forward to report her abuser, and also to seek accountability for her pastor who failed to do anything when she came to him. She shared her story with The Pillar, and afterwards had to suffer the loss of relationships and marginalization by her that parish. We talked about the ways that communities make it hard for victims to come forward and how they marginalize survivors after they do. We also talked about finding strength, supporting survivors, and what all this has meant for my own friendship with Clare.

This conversation includes discussion of adult themes, and also discusses sexual violence with some details. Not everyone may be in a place to listen at this time. If you listen and find yourself troubled, don’t be afraid to take a break and step away or to seek support from friends, family, or a qualified professional. Thanks for listening.

For more information:

* Clare’s story in The Pillar

* Another story from the same parish, where an unmarried teacher was pushed out of her job because she became pregnant

* How abuse and marginalization in the Church is a team sport

* Victims, perpetrators, and the perspective of the Church

I recently had the opportunity to host a conversation with Michael O’Loughlin on his recent book Hidden Mercy: AIDS, Catholics, and the Untold Stories of Compassion in the Face of Fear. We talked about how Catholics were at the forefront of both stigmatizing those with HIV and AIDS, and also at the forefront of offering compassion and care. We discussed where the Church can move forward today. And we touched on the importance of remembering our histories. You can listen to the audio above, or you can watch the recorded video here.

In December of 2021, Clare Friis was contacted by a woman living in the Twin Cities. Clare had worked as a doula, and the woman was referred to Clare by a friend. The woman told Clare that she was trying to process her complicated pregnancy. The woman shared that she was worried about losing her job. Clare responded by informing her that firing someone because of her pregnancy was illegal. The woman told her, “I teach in a Catholic school.” Clare asked her which school. The teacher named Epiphany Catholic School in Coon Rapids, Minnesota.

Clare had experienced her own challenges in the parish attached to the school. Roughly nine months earlier, Clare had publicly shared her story of being abused as a child in the parish, how the pastor Father Thomas Dufner had encouraged her to be silent about what she had suffered, and how he had allowed Clare’s abuser to continue to volunteer with children until she shared her story publicly. I had worked with Clare to try to address this with the Archdiocese of Saint Paul and Minneapolis. After speaking with this teacher, Clare quickly connected me with her, and we listened to her story and worked with her to navigate the complex process of addressing harms caused by and within the Church.

We learned that she had shared the news of her pregnancy with her principal, who then told her she needed to speak with Father Dufner. Over a series of interactions, Father Dufner communicated to this teacher that the only way for her to keep her job would be for her to get married the following month, that he would do an abbreviated marriage preparation, that her boyfriend was “sexually ready” to get married, and the matter of whether or not the boyfriend would marry her was a matter of whether he was going to “show up” for her. The teacher shared that she was not in a state to prepare for the sacrament of marriage so quickly, and that she needed to focus on her pregnancy and the health of her baby. The school responded by presenting her with a contract which would maintain her salary and health insurance, in exchange for her silence and a guarantee to never sue the school. They gave her until the Feast of the Immaculate Conception to decide. She felt that she had no choice but to sign it. I recorded a conversation with her, which she gave me permission to eventually share publicly, before she signed the contract.

I’ve written previously on the scandal that the approach taken by Epiphany here creates. This was a grave scandal on the part of the school, the parish, and their leadership. They subtly communicate to unmarried Catholic school teachers: really, the only way for you to keep your job is to secretly get an abortion. Consider also these messages that were shared with me over the last week (which I am sharing with permission):

From another individual:

I can’t undo those harms. But I still hope that we can learn from this. There are two ways that Epiphany and other Catholic institutions can begin to move in the direction of healing and support.

First, Epiphany Catholic School should waive the confidentiality obligations in this teacher’s contract. This obligation was put upon a woman in exchange for her ability to pay for medical bills for herself and her very sick baby, at a time where she would have had difficulty finding another job which would have enabled her to take off for her necessary medical appointments. Other Catholic institutions which have similar confidentiality agreements should waive the confidentiality provisions.

The provisions which bind the former Epiphany teacher are cruel. They bar the teacher from processing the traumatic circumstances surrounding her termination from the school with friends. They prevent her from seeking comfort from her family. In trying to make sense of what has happened to her here, she is utterly alone. She can only speak with her spouse (she is unmarried), attorney, or financial advisor. She is not even permitted to speak with a mental health practitioner. Other former employees of Catholic institutions across the country continue to be bound by similarly cruel provisions.

Second, Catholic schools and other institutions should adopt a policy stating that no students, faculty, or staff will face disciplinary or adverse actions because of an unplanned pregnancy. The Archdiocese of Saint Paul and Minneapolis and other dioceses should adopt such a policy. No woman should have communicated to her, no matter how subtly: the only way for you to stay here is to secretly have an abortion. If we want a culture of life, a culture where abortion is unthinkable, we must lead.

If you are a Catholic and are horrified at what happened here, I would highly encourage you to reach out to your diocese and local Catholic schools and parishes to encourage such a policy. Connect with other parents, parishioners, and community members to push for these necessary changes together. Lives are actually at stake.

UPDATE (08/26/22)

I have received the following from the friend of the teacher, who said I had permission to share:

A couple of other things to note.

First, one might be inclined to think that the school was generous by paying out her salary and benefits. But in reality, the school likely saved a lot of money. They forced her to give up her right to sue the school, as part of the contract. A lawsuit likely would have cost much much more than they would have had to pay. The school put itself in a financially advantageous position.

Second, this situation continues to be extremely unjust. People like her old coworkers, the school’s leadership, and others are allowed to talk about what happened to her. They can reach out to her and say whatever they want. But she can’t say anything. This is how injustice is put upon injustice when it comes to victims in the Church.

In this recorded conversation, I talk with Scott Herr about his experience in conversion therapy. Herr was referred to Joseph Nicolosi (considered by many to be the “father of conversion therapy”) by his Catholic religious community in the early-mid 90’s. At first, Herr found the therapy helpful in becoming more assertive and coming to a better understanding of himself. But over time, Herr realized that Nicolosi’s practice was conditioned by ideologies that ultimately harmed many of his clients. Herr shared that, of the many Nicolosi clients that he came to know, only he and one other client still uphold a “traditional sexual ethic.” Herr offers a caution for Catholics when it comes to ministering to those on the SSA/LGBTQ+ spectrum: real human experiences matter.

I had a conversation recently with Christopher Dowling on conversion therapy and the Catholic Church. In the previous episode, Christopher shared the story of his Catholic upbringing, as a youth group kid, a NET missionary, a University of Dallas student, and a seminarian. Today, we’ll be picking up where we left off. Chris will share how he first connected with Bob Schuchts, the Theology of the Body Institute, and the John Paul II Healing Center. It was here that he and others were exposed to carefully crafted sexual orientation change efforts. He also struggled in these settings, as he put it, as both a victim and victimizer. He also felt like these settings increased the type of repressive sexual dysfunction in him that creates abusers like McCarrick. 

Christopher’s experiences have a lot to teach the Church. I learned a lot from my conversation with him, and I’m sure you will too.