What? Why would God lead us into a snare? That sounds cruel! Not like the behavior of a supposedly loving, concerned Father.  I’m not sure I can love a God who would do such a thing. I need an explanation.  Please help me understand, Lord. 

A pack of wolves is out on their nightly hunt. A loud snap is heard, and a yelp. A member of the pack has stepped into a snare laid by their enemy. The wolf struggles to free himself as the pack flees and a light approaches. The wolf sees the light bearer is not the hunter but a hiker.    

The hiker has been trailing the pack as he is not only a hiker but also a biologist and lover of wildlife. He is filled with sympathy for the injured, scared animal as he approaches. The wolf does not know who this man is, but he knows from past experiences not to trust men. So as the man approaches to help free the wolf, he becomes increasingly aggressive. Some pack members who initially ran off come back to see what has come of their pack member.  

The hiker’s desire to help overwhelms his desire for personal safety and comfort, so he does not turn away despite snarling and snapping. The wolf is completely unsure of why he isn’t dead by now. Usually, once the snare is sprung, death by gunshot follows quickly. But not this time. Despite the difference in behavior between this man and others, the wolf still does not trust and has increasing levels of pain.   

The hiker finally gets in close enough to try to free the trapped foot of the wolf. As he leans in to try to release the snare, the pain in the wolf’s leg increases. The wolf reacts by snapping at and finally biting the man trying to rescue him. While this would deter most men, it doesn’t deter this one. Despite his injury from being bitten, he continues working to free the maimed leg.   

The rest of the pack has now returned to see this strange interaction between human and animal. They watch in amazement, the wolf form of amazement, as the human not only endures the growling and bites of their brother wolf but, after a few minutes, frees him from the snare. The freed wolf quickly darts off, as does the rest of the pack. The hiker takes off in pursuit. 

Were it not for the snare, the hiker and the wolf would have never met. The hiker would not have had the opportunity to save the wolf, and the wolf and his pack would have never encountered a human that wanted to help, not harm. The snare changed the lives of both for the better, though injury was caused for each. There was no other way for the changes the wolf and the hiker experienced to come about but through the pain of the snare and bites.  

This is why God leads us into snares. Because He knows what is necessary to bring about the most significant long-term benefit to us and the pack He loves. He is willing to endure our bites and snarls to bring us true freedom to run with His pack to the gates of Heaven.  

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Many men want to be my friend but I will not interact with them. My mind, along with the enemy of purity, gives me a million reasons not to allow these men into the field of my life.

Some men get past stage one and get planted in the field of life. I cultivate their friendships with time spent together, sharing struggles, supporting one another in good and bad times, hanging out, and listening. I see them start to grow from a seed to an actual plant in my life, and I freak out. I begin to behave in destructive ways. Distrust, envy, fear, and sometimes conflict enter and tear away any budding friendship, leaving our connection in tatters.

A small number get past this stage, and these I stop cultivating altogether. No phone calls, no hanging out, no sharing. I starve them and watch them wither, fully aware of what I am doing but seemingly unable to stop it. They inevitably die, and I am again left with a dry, lifeless field.

During all this, I continue to plant plastic plants in my field to make it look and feel like there is life there. This is what unchaste behavior does. It gives me a false feeling of the connection I want without any real loving friendship. I frequently return to this false connection and avoid, actively destroy, or starve the opportunities for a real relationship that Jesus has lovingly brought into my life. So how do I fix this? I don’t; He does, with my cooperation.

All of my life, I’ve lived as many in the Courage apostolate do – with an open field of a life, if you will. I could freely rip out or put into my field whatever I wanted without anyone’s input or without impacting anyone in an obvious way. Two and a half years ago, I moved in with Brian, and that changed. With him, I have a field that has a fence around it. We, in some ways, have a common field now. Not the kind of common field you get from a marriage or romantic relationship but more of a common field similar to what you find in religious communities. Maybe it’s better to say fields that overlap each other more than people who live entirely separate lives. Though this overlapping of fields is good for us, it has also increased the difficulty of day-to-day life.

Every morning and evening, Brian is here. A seed already planted in my field, so the first stage of resistance for me is already bypassed. Stage two would be to rip him up from my field, but we have a lease on an apartment together, we have gotten to know each other and our families in a way that is not easily removed, and neither of us is in a position financially to live alone at this point. So there will be no ripping out. Stage three is for me to ignore him, which I try to do in subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle ways, but he will not allow that, thankfully. His sense of humor and considerate behavior makes it almost impossible for me to deploy the cold shoulder. So here we are. We are plants growing in the fields of each other’s lives. What can I do to stop this? The only option is to fill the field with plastic plants, and this is where I still struggle.

The realness of our friendship and the intensity and discomfort of living with each other daily pushes me to turn to what is comfortable—plastic plants of unchaste behavior. I see myself frantically planting these through phone sex, porn, and self-abuse. I ignore and rip out those I can from my field, but Brian is not going anywhere. This is how Jesus “fixes” my field. By keeping me fenced in with this real plant of chaste male friendship, I grow with Brian despite my fearful and anxious planting of fake greenery through unchastity. Jesus slowly pulls up what I lay down through my sinful choices and nurtures what is good in my life, leading me to what I really want – and that scares the crap out of me.

Thanks be to God.

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“I don’t understand why the Church doesn’t do more to spread the word about the Courage apostolate!” “I don’t know why Courage doesn’t speak up more about the LGBTQ agenda?” I’ve heard these statements and others like them over the 9 years I’ve been part of the apostolate. In the beginning, I agreed with those saying these things and was frustrated by the seeming inaction. In hindsight, I see what I consider the error in the thought process behind these ideas. I also see a misunderstanding of the apostolate itself and the work of the priests in it.

There is no one better to help people understand why Courage is needed and the good it does in our lives than us. Each year at the Courage Conference and at clergy study days, there is usually a Courage member testimony as part of the program. Before the testimony is offered, the speaker’s introduction usually includes “our members are our best ambassadors.” When this line is stated at the Conference, nodding heads are seen, and whispered “yes’s“ are heard. I take this as an indication that the members in attendance agree with the statement. But how many of us live it? How many of us let our pastors, fellow parishioners, friends, and family members know that we have chosen to follow the Church’s teachings? Not many, I’d guess, judging from how few people have heard of Courage. 

I believe it is my job, along with the priests, to share the good news of the Courage apostolate, but priests can only do so much. Many inside and outside the Church will not listen to priests in general, especially when it comes to issues related to sexuality. So who is left to share what needs to be communicated to raise awareness? Us! We are “who is left.” We who benefit most and have the light in us that our brothers and sisters living in the darkness of the LGBTQ identity need. 

The same answer applies to the second statement at the beginning of this post. The Courage apostolate commenting on the state of the world concerning the LGBTQ movement is helpful, but nowhere near as wide-reaching as the impact each of us has in our homes, workplaces, and parishes. Suppose you don’t feel you have the knowledge necessary to speak about these issues. In that case, I suggest re-evaluating how you spend your free time. I’m sure there are unnecessary distractions you could eliminate to give yourself more time to spend studying the faith. If you think you don’t have the skills to speak, remember Moses and St. Paul. Neither was gifted in their speech. The Holy Spirit worked through them, and He will do the same for you. 

“Be the change you want to see” is an entirely appropriate quote for this circumstance. The freedom, peace, and joy that comes through living the truth of Christ’s Church proclaimed by the Courage apostolate is not a light we can continue to hide under a basket. So I encourage you as God has inspired me; make Courage known to the present and next generation. Share the good news; be not afraid; I am with you. Thanks be to God. 

If you need help with the words, please email me at brotherwithoutorder@gmail.com.  

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Crosby, John F., The Personalism of John Paul II

I’ve had a distorted body image for many years; in fact, I’d say, for most of my adult life.  I can trace it back to two events in my early life. The first was being exposed to pornography at age 11 or 12, which distorted my understanding and view of the human body, sexualized it, and distorted what I thought it should look like. The second event was showering at a friend’s house and having the friend push me out his front door, pull my towel off, and lock me outside naked. I felt deep shame and embarrassment about both the lockout and the porn, and from that point on my relationship with my body changed. I saw my body as something that was only for sex and, viewed it as ugly and shameful since it looked nothing like a porn star’s body. For the rest of my life, I did my best to keep it covered.

Fast forward 35 years. When August 2021 arrived, my birthday month, as well as my brother’s. We started texting back and forth to set-up a date to celebrate, and after choosing a Sunday that worked for us both, my sister-in-law ended the text string with, literally, breathtaking words: “Don’t forget your bathing suit”. I almost vomited.

The body, in my mind, is something sexual. So, if my body, which is only sexual and not attractive then, in my mind, it should be covered. And, even if it is attractive, it should be kept covered out of a sense of modesty and avoiding leading others into possible sexual sin. Not puritanical at all! Because of these thoughts, I am very uncomfortable with baring it in public.

That being said, I recognized this as an opportunity to get past my discomfort and find a little healing. I thought, “This is a gift from God – a place to deal with this shame and discomfort in relative privacy.”, So, I decided to go swimming.

This was my 49th birthday, and over those 49 years, things have developed on my body that I find unattractive. Namely, extra weight and body hair. These were not things one saw in pornography and so, in my mind, they were not acceptable. Actually, not just unacceptable: disgusting. The thought of showing what I considered to be a disgusting body in public, even to my family, triggered the shame I’d felt when I was locked out many years ago, as well as the shame associated with pornography.

The morning of the get-together, I woke up agitated. I opened my blinds in the hopes it would be raining, but it wasn’t. It was cloudy, though, and relatively cool, and I was praising God for that. However, as I drove to my brother’s house, the clouds broke and the stupid sun came out. “Whyyyyy Lord…why are You doing this to me??”  I knew the answer was, “For your own good!”, but I didn’t want to hear that.

I got to their house without a bathing suit, hoping that would save me, but, of course, they had an extra. The backyard was sun-drenched, warm, and humid, perfect for a dip in the pool. So, after being encouraged by my brother, sister-in-law, niece, and nephew, I got in, with my T-shirt on. But I got in. I got out and jumped back in from the diving board. How freeing! To be able to do something I hadn’t done in so many years, with people I knew I could trust. After a few minutes, I took my shirt off and swam as I used to when I was a kid.

The rest of the afternoon was enjoyable, and when I left their house, I knew that yet another little hurdle in my healing–one that didn’t feel so little–had been cleared. I realized on the drive home that my body is just that, a body. Not a sexual object, not a measure of who I am, nor a determiner of my value as a person. What a huge burden to have lifted off me by such a seemingly small act, taking a dip in the pool.

I look forward to swimming at their house again soon, before fall arrives. Swimming in public, or with other people, will come in the future, since my sister-in-law asked me to bring my housemate with me next time. But for now, I am grateful that I cooperated with the grace given to me to embrace my lumpy, hairy, gift of a body.

Thanks be to God.

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On the surface, this seems selfish, and it is, but as with most personality issues, below the surface is a wound. In this case, a wound of insecurity, sadness and fear. 

The meeting where my Courage brother said this occurred on the same day that my therapist and I were discussing my loss of connection with my dad. I shared a photo of dad giving me a piggyback ride and how the desire for a stable connection was created in me after losing that close connection we once had. That desire manifested itself in an improper clinging, controlling attachment. 

In my mind, my friends are mine, my mom is mine, and my dog Lenny was mine. I owned them at one point in my mind and that ownership stunted real love and developing healthy detached relationships. This showed itself most clearly in the relationship with my dog, Lenny.  

When we took walks, Lenny would ignore other people and dogs. If they approached, he would either shrink back, get aggressive, or act like they didn’t exist. These were similar to my own defensive behaviors. I liked that Lenny’s life was completely focused on me; he was MINE! Many would say this is understandable and though I agree that it is, the fact remains that this attachment stifled his life. I gripped onto Lenny rather than holding him with an open hand. And that grip was suffocating for him as it can be for the people who are closest to me. 

Many of us also, because of our woundedness, want to feel valued. And so, a person who is seeking self-worth has to be careful because the desire for exclusivity and feeling special can leave them open to viewing this kind of stifling grip as love. If they allow this to continue it will eventually kill the friendship. So, any kind of exclusivity in this regard must be resisted and moderated for the sake of both people involved. 

Healthy stability is found in a diversity of friendships. As I read in The Four Loves you can only truly experience the fullness of another person when friendship is shared with others. No one can be their full self with just one person. We each bring out qualities in another that only peoples’ unique personality quirks can. For me to fully experience mom, I have to share her with my other family members and our friends. For me to fully experience my friends, I have to share them with their families and our other friends. And for me to fully experience myself, I have to share who I am with many people, not just one or two. That is not to say that I won’t be closer to some friends than others, but diversity allows our personalities to fully flourish.   

To endure seeing the people I love most love others and know that their love for others does not diminish me in any way and, in fact, opens the friend or family member to being able to love me on an even deeper level requires suffering on my part. I have to choose to endure the pain of the thoughts that I am not good enough or loveable enough and the sickness that brings to my heart and stomach.  

Please Lord, help me let go of ”MINE” for my own sake and for the sake of those I love. Help me to hold them with an open hand as You hold, rather than a clenched fist as our enemy holds, a flourishing hold rather than a stifling hold. Give me the grace to endure and persevere. I pray this in Jesus’ holy name, Amen. 

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