11/29/15

Today is the first day of Advent, the beginning of the Church's liturgical calendar, a time when we're encouraged to reflect on the coming of Christ. Fr. Michael likens the liturgical calendar to a time machine. It's a time when we paradoxically go forward and yet backward in time, allowing us to always be on the threshold of a new beginning, allowing us to do things differently, better. Fr. Michael, quoting Sherman the Robot quoting Winston Churchill at the end of the sci-fi film Millennium during last week's homily, "This is not the end. This is not the beginning of the end. It is the end of the beginning."

I like that idea of time and, by extension, our lives as a cycle. I've always appreciated Buddhist cosmology for that reason. Instead of approaching life as something we have to get right on the first try, it allows us to make mistakes and learn from them, to evolve and grow through this existential, dialectic process of birth and death, which takes place from moment to moment as well as over multiple lifetimes. This cycle is not only evident in the liturgical year, but it's present in the Eucharist, which connects past, present, and future every time we come together in communion, uniting the Church in eternity.

This week, I was asked to light the Advent candle at the beginning of mass while Fr. Bill offered a special prayer in place of the usual penitential rite. The day's readings were about remaining spiritually vigilant, not allowing the stresses of daily life to push God out of our minds, even when the world is in turmoil. Our thoughts should always abide in the love of God, and our actions should always arise out of that love. In his homily, Fr. Bill talked about inscribing the doors of our church and our homes with the phrase, Domus Dei et Porta Coeli, "House of God and Gateway to Heaven," reminding us to be mindful of how God touches us through the people around us and the experiences we share.

After mass, I helped Fr. Bill carry some chairs from the church over to the rectory, and then helped set up the dining room for a dinner he's hosting for some friends. I moved a bunch of stuff, mopped, and set up about 16 places. While I was over there, I snuck a peek at the beautiful wooden altar in their chapel, which Fr. Michael once mentioned was hand carved by a German Paulist priest while being sheltered from internment during WWI or WWII.

The more time I spend at church and with spiritual people like Fr. Michael and Fr. Bill, the more drawn I am towards religious life. I don't know if I'm being called to become a brother or priest or simply to draw closer to a more spiritual lifestyle in lay-life, but the pull is strong either way. I definitely want to deepen my prayer life, to more readily recognize the spirit of God within and unveil the fuller meaning of my life, whatever that meaning and purpose might be. In some ways, it feels like I'm near the 'end of the beginning' of my own life, which is exciting and nerve-racking at the same time.

11/26/15

I volunteered to serve at the Thanksgiving mass, which was nice. Fr. Michael gave a great homily about being mindful of all the little miracles in our lives, the things that we tend to miss when we're self-absorbed and not paying attention. Despite all the bad in the world, there's always something for us to be thankful for and always some good we can do. I spent the rest of the morning on dish duty at St. Philip's Thanksgiving dinner.

Every year, they host a meal on Thanksgiving for those with nowhere to go or no one to eat with. Many of the people who come are homeless, but many are just people who don't have any friends or family to share the holiday with, or else people who simply like the sense of community. A group of people from New Seasons prepare a lot of the food, and the rest is donated by members of the parish. They also collect things like socks, scarves, hats, etc. for anyone who can use them. Last year, I helped serve. This year, I was on clean up duty with Dan from the young adult group since no one else wanted that honour.


They say that it's better to give than to receive; and while I might have disagreed with that as a kid, I definitely agree with it today. I don't have much to offer, but I get a lot of joy from giving, even if it's just a bit of my time. Generosity is truly a treasure:

And what is the treasure of generosity? There is the case of a disciple of the noble ones, his awareness cleansed of the stain of stinginess, living at home, freely generous, openhanded, delighting in being magnanimous, responsive to requests, delighting in the distribution of alms. This is called the treasure of generosity. (AN 7.6)

11/16/15

Today we had our first Discipleship Training session. The focus was communication, particularly listening. There were six of us, so Fr. Bill had us break up into two teams of three, with one speaker, one listener, and one observer. In my group, I was the listener, Irene was the speaker, and Dan was the observer. Irene told a story about a recent experience she had at work. She's an occupational therapist at a hospital, and she told me about a particularly challenging encounter with a patient that was having a lot of trouble emotionally and psychologically. I did my best to listen and respond as best I could to show that I was listening and interested; and when she was finished, I shared an anecdote of my own to help show that I could relate with her, at least on some small level. When each team was finished, we regrouped and discussed how the exchanges went.

Afterwards, we went through and read a few sections of The Way: A Catholic Small Group Bible Discussion Guide and talked about them. The first was a quote from Pope Benedict:

And once again the Pope (John Paul II) said: No! If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life. Amen.

Fr. Bill had us pick out and answer one of the four questions that followed. I never got a chance to answer (which was ok by me), but I'd mentally picked question one: What spoke to you from this passage? For me, it was the idea that "the great potential of human experience" is truly revealed in our friendship with Christ, as Christ is always pointing us towards other people. To love God and others as ourselves is the greatest commandment. And Jesus said that, "If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and remain in his love" (John 15:10). So, ultimately, the great potential of human experience is to abide in love and friendship. For me, this is the real heart of Christian spirituality.

The second reading was John 15:1-11 followed by a section from a handout Fr. Bill gave out dealing with reflecting skills, i.e., the restating and paraphrasing of both the feelings and the words of the speaker, which helps the speaker 'hear' their own thoughts and focus their ideas, lets them know you're trying your best to understand their message, and encourages them to continue talking. All in all, it was an interesting session; and while I'm not sure evangelization and leading small faith groups is my calling, I like the fellowship aspect of it, and think it'll be worth sticking around to see what I might learn.

11/11/15

Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I see the Catholic Church going through a transformation. I see in it, and especially in the words of Pope Francis, the beginnings of a truly universal and egalitarian faith. At the same time, I see a lot of resistance to these changes despite the Pope's words that, "When 'facing evils or problems in the church... it is useless to seek solutions in conservatism and fundamentalism, in the restoration of outdated conduct and forms' that are no longer culturally relevant or meaningful."

Our challenge is to be the agents of this transformation. To share the gifts God has given us and follow the example of Christ and his teachings, which David Gerrold summarizes as:

Don't be judgmental. Don't be a hypocrite. Don't use your religion to bully others. Don't pray loudly in the streets to show how holy you are. Forgive others. Heal the sick. Feed the poor. You're not without sin, don't cast stones. By your deeds you will earn your place in heaven. Be humble in spirit, be generous in nature. LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

It's as if we're rediscovering the deep interconnectedness of everything in the universe, and in that discovery, the intimate connections between each and every one of us—that the things we once thought were so important because of our ignorance, the things we use to divide ourselves from ourselves, distinctions like civilized and uncivilized, black and white, man and woman, gay and straight, religious and atheist, etc., which are conventional labels that we've imbued with some sort of ultimate reality, are without substance.

The teachings of Jesus were radical in that sense, because throughout his teachings, we find this call towards universal love and radical egalitarianism. As Paul wrote to the Galatians:

For through faith you are all children of God in Christ Jesus. For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Gal 3:26-8)

To establish the kingdom of God on earth, then, is to work towards a better and more egalitarian world. A world free from economic exploitation. A world free from classism, racism, sexism, and all other forms of discrimination and oppression. I think it's a mistake to expect someone else to do the work for us, to wait for some kind of other-worldly paradise. I think this is one of the main messages of the story of Jesus, the story of God becoming human to minister the sick, feed the poor, and comfort those who are suffering.

Jesus himself called each of us to pick up our crosses (our burdens that we carry for others) and follow him. Not in some abstract way, but by literally becoming a suffering servant.

11/9/15

As it nears the holiday season, with Thanksgiving right around the corner and Christmas not far behind, there's been the typical increase in both pro and anti-religious rhetoric. Some people are proud to be religious, loudly proclaiming their belief in Jesus as their saviour and their anger that Starbucks doesn't have more Christmassy cups, while others criticize religion as something negative and harmful, citing things like the recent announcement by leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that children from gay families "won't be eligible for a naming blessing, baptism or mission call without the approval of the faith's top leaders." And to be honest, I can't disagree with those criticisms.

Historically, religious people seem obligated to push their beliefs and values onto the rest of society, ideas that tend to oppress and discriminate against segments of society in the name of love and acceptance. And woe to anyone on the wrong side of the fence. Moreover, religion as a broader social phenomenon has been more about constructing moral absolutes out of some sort of perceived and/or 'revealed' objective authority than personal transformation and enlightenment. In this sense, religion, as opposed to personal faith, is really about control over the hearts and minds of people via dictating and then enforcing societal norms that, because of their 'divine' origins, are notoriously difficult to challenge, let alone amend, becoming immune to things like compassion and reason.

That said, I don't think the solution is to eradicate religion. For one, the same argument against religion could be made about anything where factions emerge and ideologies lead to oppression and discrimination. Take politics, for example. While many political individuals may possess more enlightened and progressive political ideas, political systems themselves are all about control, dictating and then enforcing their own set of societal norms that are just as difficult to challenge, let alone amend, and which tend to oppress and discriminate segments of society in the name of order and justice. Whereas religion in the US has played a large role in oppressing the LGBTQ community in recent times, politics (as well as bad science) has played an equally large role in oppressing ethnic minorities (e.g., slavery, Jim Crow, etc.). To say religion is all bad is essentially to say that politics is all bad.

On one level, I think the problem comes down to authority, i.e., who has it and how far it extends. Generally speaking, the more absolute and insular an authoritarian structure is, the more control they seek to establish over society and the more difficult their ideas are to challenge/reform. And this is especially true when things like laws and moral values are considered valid because they're enacted by 'legitimate authority.' As Leo Strauss argues in his essay on Plato in History of Political Philosophy, when "the just is the same as the lawful or legal," there's nothing higher to which one can appeal (37). Moreover, when justice is nothing but the advantage of the stronger, and the will of the ruling class becomes the sole source of justice since they create and enact the laws that the rest of us must follow, we become trapped within a system where justice doesn't exist for the state since each regime "lays down the laws with a view to its own preservation and well-being" (38). And I think the same is true when it comes to religion and religious authorities, as well.

I can also understand that, for critics of religion in general, both religion and religious authorities appear to be archaic and essentially irrelevant in our modern day and age, being relics of a superstitious past. The Catholic Church, in particular, has been opposed to social progress and change, historically as well as presently. However, despite all the negatives associated with religion, I think that religion not only helps to give a voice to deep and profoundly moving feelings that are often difficult for us to express, but offers a spiritual and emotional dynamic to our existential suffering. As Marx wrote in his introduction to A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right, "Religious suffering is, at one and the same time, the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people."

Hence, even if one discounts religion, in some sense it's a type of pain-killer that speaks to real and often materially-unanswered needs, and this is one of the reasons that religion shouldn't be dismissed totally off-hand. To do so is unfair to people who are themselves religious, in my opinion, and it also runs the risk of denying the underlying aspects of religion that touch the very core of our humanity and the miasma of joy, sorrow, and camaraderie that religious beliefs often speak to or find expression in. After all, religion is, among other things, a creative expression of our search for happiness, meaning, and truth in a seemingly infinite universe. In this capacity, religion can be a beautiful thing that brings communities together and inspires profound acts of love and charity, as well as bring individuals closer to a happiness that transcends much of the suffering and unsatisfactoriness seemingly inherent in this fragile thing we call life.

That's not to say religion is somehow above criticism, of course. As sympathetic towards religion as I am, I'm also quite critical of religion's proclivity to fall into absolutism and dogmatism, not to mention its historical reliance on things like authority and tradition over evidence and rationality. All in all, though, I'm a firm believer that a person can be both rational/scientifically-minded and spiritual at the same time; but unless such a person also tries to remain open-minded and willing to alter or even throw out their religious beliefs when they seemingly conflict with reality and the evidence presented to them, or if they end up harming and oppressing a section of the population, social progress will always be somewhat at odds with religion and religion will lose in the long run.

On a deeper yet complementary level, however, I think the problem comes down to class and social relations. One of the many things I think Marx was right about in his analysis and critique of capitalism as an exploitative mode of production is the formative role material conditions play in the social structure of a society, which includes the dominating ideology in any society. As Marx famously writes in The Germany Ideology:

The ideas of the ruling class are in every epoch the ruling ideas, i.e. the class which is the ruling material force of society, is at the same time its ruling intellectual force. The class which has the means of material production at its disposal, has control at the same time over the means of mental production, so that thereby, generally speaking, the ideas of those who lack the means of mental production are subject to it. The ruling ideas are nothing more than the ideal expression of the dominant material relationships, the dominant material relationships grasped as ideas; hence of the relationships which make the one class the ruling one, therefore, the ideas of its dominance. The individuals composing the ruling class possess among other things consciousness, and therefore think. Insofar, therefore, as they rule as a class and determine the extent and compass of an epoch, it is self-evident that they do this in its whole range, hence among other things rule also as thinkers, as producers of ideas, and regulate the production and distribution of the ideas of their age: thus their ideas are the ruling ideas of the epoch.

Of course, that doesn't mean every politician or clergy member is some kind of evil puppet master. What it does mean is that, once placed in a position of authority, their roles in society are often conditioned to be ones of control, helping to preserve and reproduce these ideas and social relations because that's how the logic of the system works, whether that system is feudalistic, capitalistic, etc. From this point of view, then, we certainly need to critically assess these social structures and their socio-economic foundation, but to what end? This is a question I struggled with for a long time myself, both politically and spiritually.

Politically, I found myself drawn towards the more immature aspects of 19th century revolutionary nihilism, with its focus on the disruption and destruction of the present social order by any means necessary; while spiritually, I was influenced by 'new atheists' like Dawkins who see religion as the root of all evil and advocate a similar fate for religion, becoming somewhat anti-religious myself. But over time, I started to see some of the drawbacks to my approach, drawbacks I think Dostoyevsky brilliantly and humorously explores in his novel Demons. I lost myself in my own certainty and self-righteousness, alienating those I attacked as ignorant and being just as inflexible as those I was criticizing, whether they were capitalists or religious. I sought to tear down with nothing to put in its place, leaving nothing but a void.

I also became conscious fairly early on that I was a minority in my views and realized I wasn't going to convert the world with what I thought were my superior arguments, nor was I interested in forcing them to with violence, so I started to look for more holistic solutions. And in the process, I unexpectedly found a deeper appreciation for religion, seeing in its rich history something I'd missed before and acknowledging a yearning in my own heart for deeper spiritual truths. It's hard for me to explain that journey or what I took away from it in a sentence or two, but suffice it to say that I gradually found myself opening up to religion and what it has to offer in its purest form, which for me is an expression of mystery and wonder, a framework of morality built on the principle of harmlessness, an inclusive sense of community, and an exploration of what it means to be human through loving and treating others as yourself, whomever they may be.

That doesn't mean I think people need to be religious, only that I don't think religion is the proverbial devil, which reminds me of something I wrote during my six-day retreat at Our Lady after my mom passed away:

I don't go to church, meditate, or read spiritual books to debate or convert anyone. I respect everyone's beliefs or lack thereof. If you're an atheist and believe that science alone can uncover all there is to know about the universe and our experience of it, that's fine. It's a valid approach. Beauty and meaning can be found in life without spiritual beliefs and practices. My girlfriend's an atheist and we have no conflicts about it whatsoever. Rather, I do these things because I find meaning in them; because I have an intuitive sense of something more underlying reality and human experience, a unifying force or awareness or potentiality, and I'm interested in exploring that feeling, as well as the spiritual experiences and knowledge that I believe help point the way towards its realization. I see in them a reflection of a continuing evolution in our consciousness (collective and individual) and connection to the universe.

Buddhism and Christianity, for example, are icons of this evolution, evincing existential, psychological, and spiritual developments through the transformative focal points of their founders. Both the Buddha and Jesus were influenced by their cultures, which were characterized by religious and ethnic tribalism, and led by a priestly caste in charge of rituals and sacrifices meant to control and/or manipulate the mysterious forces of life, reflecting an early state of consciousness that I think can be found at the beginning of most early religions. There was certainly an awareness of interbeing and the larger whole, but it was trapped within a kind of group identity, making it exclusive rather than inclusive. And there was certainly a reverence for creation, but it was trapped within a kind of fear. But out of these seeds grew a new kind of consciousness that increasingly pulled people out of their tribalism and fearful worship of the unknown—a maturation that can be found within the religious texts of their time, but which are given fuller expression in the Buddha and Jesus' respective teachings. Each utilized their cultural and religious language, but infused them with new meaning and perspective.

In Things Hidden, for instance, Richard Rohr talks of a "development of crucial divine wisdom" and stages of consciousness found in both the Bible and our history (12-3). And I think the Pali Canon, along with the Vedas and Upanisads before it, show such a development, as well. If we look closely, we can see this spiritual dialectic in most, if not all, religions. We can see that these cultures and ancient texts were trying to give expression to, and find ways of connecting with, their collective sense of something greater underlying experience (God, truth, the absolute, ground of being, or whatever label you want to place on it) through myths and stories, symbols pointing towards a deeper level of truth and shared knowledge/experience, "a full-body knowing, a cellular knowing ... a transference and sharing of Being" (63-4).

In essence, they're exploring the mystery of consciousness, something that's notoriously hard, if not impossible, to objectify; and ultimately pointing towards what I believe to be a unitive and even psychologically-healing experience piercing the illusion of our dualistic way of thinking, the illusion of separation between subject and object, between the non-spiritual and the spiritual, between matter (body) and spirit (mind). These stories first and foremost attempt to illustrate that what we call God or awakening isn't something outside of us, something 'otherworldly'—it can be experienced right here, right now. The Pali Canon talks of "touching the deathless element with the body" (AN 6.46). Jesus says "the kingdom of God is among/within us (Luke 17:21); and Paul writes that "your body is a temple of the holy Spirit within you" (1 Cor 6:19-20). Are they all delusional? Perhaps. Or perhaps they're talking about a shared reality/experience—a unifying awareness, a heightened state of consciousness, a glimpse through the veil of ignorance and into the absolute, a realization of the luminosity within us.

It sounds fanciful, I know; but the closer I come to this experience, the greater my faith in its reality grows. I know that many people have grasped these symbols too tightly, or else held them in the wrong way, so that they turn to bite them like the proverbial snake, creating fanatics and fundamentalists; and I share the concerns of others about them, and about those forcing others to agree with them. But that doesn't mean there isn't something of value here, that they haven't helped our progress as much as they've served to hinder it. Historically speaking, the religious and philosophical seekers of the time were often its best scientists. And science itself is just as easily capable of destroying whole cities as religion if held inappropriately. All I can say is that, if others want to walk with me on this journey, they're more than welcome. And if they don't, that's ok, too.

To be honest, I'm not really sure what the point of all this is. Maybe I'm just trying to convince myself that I'm not a fool for being religious. I don't know. While I've heard people express their desire to 'kill religion' (e.g., Dawkins et al.), and can sympathize with some of their reasoning for making such statements — especially when you have people using religion to justify suicide bombings and discrimination against gays, women, etc. — I also can't help but think that doing so would come at a great cost to humanity in that we'd be losing an important part of what makes us, well, human. And I feel the need to defend that, if only to myself since I was once one of those calling for the death of religion.

10/31/15

I decided to go to Open Sanctuary last night. It was raining, and only about seven people showed up. Like last week, there was no live music and we did the office of the hours instead. Before that, James, Barbara's husband, gave a talk on discipleship, the theme being the suffering servant, a concept that originally comes from Isaiah and which many see as being exemplified in the life and teachings of Jesus.

James started with a prayer and a reading from the Psalms, and then he gave us a little background on the concept of the suffering servant. He noted, for instance, that most scholars tend to agree the servant alluded to in Isaiah refers to the nation of Israel, that Israel in some way bears the burdens of all nations. And it's easy to see how this story prefigures the life and teachings of Jesus, the idea of bearing the burdens and sins of others for their sake. But like Jesus' life and teachings, the point isn't simply that someone else has done this for us, it's also an admonition to take this example and live it.

Just as we see Jesus challenge the rigid, closed-minded, and legalistic spirituality of his day, championing the poor, eating with tax-collectors and sinners (i.e., the unsavoury and 'untouchable' people of his time), and helping all who come to him, whether man or woman, Jew or gentile, clean or unclean, we're called to turn from our selfish ways, take up our cross, and follow Jesus' example. The true message of the suffering servant, then, is really: when we help others, we're doing the work of God.

One of the things I appreciated most about James' presentation was the stress he placed on being mindful. In Buddhism, mindfulness is an extremely important factor of living a skillful life. It's a tool that's always useful, both in meditation and in our day-to-day lives, helping us to be more and more aware of the present and the things we do that cause ourselves and others suffering. And I think it's just as important in Christianity. Not only can it help us to intentionally do the work of God, it can help change our perspective to see that work in everything we do.

As an example, James used the story of two people being interviewed: when asked by a reporter what they were doing, one answered "laying bricks" while the other responded "building a cathedral." Both were doing the same job, but the latter was more mindful of that job and had a larger vision/perspective of what he was doing. In the same way, the more mindful we are of our intentions and our surroundings, the larger our awareness will be and the more opportunities we'll find for service.

To illustrate this, James told us about a recent commuting experience he had on the bus. As he was going to wherever it was he was going, he was observing the other passengers and noticing that most were absorbed in their own little worlds, not paying much attention to anyone else. An older gentleman with a limp bordered the bus, and James noticed that nobody was really paying attention. But one lady did notice, and got up to offer the man her seat, a small act of kindness that'd give her a small amount of discomfort.

The man didn't take it; nevertheless, James tapped her on the shoulder and said that it was a nice thing to do, which in turn made the lady feel good. Her awareness of the world around her gave her the opportunity to be kind and helpful; and she was willing to bear the burden of standing so that the man with the limp could sit. But it's not the act so much as the intention underlying it that's important, which is why it's important to continually strengthen our mindfulness. Being attentive and attuned to our surroundings opens us up to the suffering of those around us and gives us the opportunity to do God's work.

Whatever we do out of love and compassion is God's work. Whatever we do to help relieve the suffering of others and make the world a better place is God's work. Anything that helps others, from the smallest acts of kindness to the ultimate act of self-sacrifice, is God's work because these are the things that lay the foundation of the kingdom of God on earth.

Horace Mann is an inspiring example of this. Mann, one of James' heroes, helped create the modern education system, and spent much of his professional life in education instead of a more personally-promising career in politics. He was less concerned about positions of power than he was positions where he could help the most people, which for him ended up being in the field of education, serving as secretary of the newly created board of education of Massachusetts and then as president of Antioch College. As he once famously said to a graduating class, "Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity."

Then James asked us in what ways we serve God. I thought about it a bit and offered that on a personal level, I try to always say yes when somebody asks something of me. If they ask for money and I have it, I give it. If they need help doing something and I have the time, I do it. On a larger scale, I try to be politically active, pushing for a more egalitarian society, especially on behalf of those who are oppressed, disenfranchised, etc.

After adoration and Vespers, we all tried to go to Double Dragon but it was too busy, so we headed over to Pastini instead. Annie was in the area, so I invited her to join us, but the conversation at that point had gotten kind of ridiculous. Some were talking about parish drama and fawning over visits from the archbishop. Then everyone started talking about Satan and possession, but in a rather juvenile way, like a teen who's just watched The Exorcist. One person even said the discussion made her uncomfortable because OMG, Satan!

I was a bit annoyed at it all, to be honest, from the idea of Satan as some sort of evil boogeyman to the mentions of 'parish drama' and the fawning over one archbishop or another. I don't know, I guess I see all of that more as the superficial side of Catholicism rather than the heartwood; and I suspect all that kind of talk put Annie off from ever wanting to hang out with the young adult group in the future.

10/29/15

Great article in the Guardian about Fr. Krzysztof Charamsa yesterday:

Krzysztof Charamsa, the former Vatican official who was sacked and defrocked after publicly announcing he was gay, breaks out into a wide grin when he is asked whether he has plans to marry his boyfriend. His answer is coy, but his smile and giddy laughter seem to reveal his intentions.

“I understand many people who say ‘we don’t need the institution of marriage. Our love is free’. I am not in this part of society. For me, [marriage] is part of the dynamic of love and I thank God that I live in a century where it’s possible, thanks to the homosexual movement and thanks to many homosexual martyrs.”

It has been less than a month since the Polish 43-year-old, a former senior Vatican aide and monsignor, announced at a press conference that he was gay and in love as his Catalan boyfriend, Eduard, stood by his side. The admission, a day before the start of a contentious meeting of bishops in Rome to debate the church’s approach to modern “family issues”, including homosexuality, resulted in him getting immediately sacked.

The Vatican called the timing of the announcement “very serious and irresponsible” and said it was clear he could no longer work as a senior aide for the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the office within the Vatican tasked with defending Catholic doctrine.

If Charamsa’s hope was to force the church to take bold action on its approach to gay and lesbian people, then the attempt was unsuccessful. At the conclusion of the synod this weekend, bishops restated the church’s position against discrimination against gay people but also declared that there was no foundation for same-sex marriage.

Speaking to the Guardian from Barcelona, Charamsa discusses his own journey to the moment when he made the life-altering decision to reveal his sexuality, despite the fact that he was part of a church that believes gay sex is a sin and that homosexuality is a “tendency”. “I was sure [I was gay] all my life. From the first moment when a person realises his sexuality. For me it was clear and a source of suffering,” he says.

In his native Poland, Charamsa says the church was seen as a haven from communism, and a place where “freedom is possible”. “So the church was this space where you can realise yourself and your nation and your desire for freedom. But at the same time, there are homophobic actions and mentality. [The church says] that to be gay is ill, that it is horrible, that it is something from hell, not from this world, something contrary to the nature and to God – and this is God who you love,” he says.

The former priest says he was not tormented by his vow to be celibate, but he could not ignore a realisation that he had to accept himself and his sexuality in order to be true to others. “The first part is coming out for yourself, in your mind. This is the process which is the longest. For me, it was the biggest part of my life. It was horrible. It was terrible. I didn’t accept it for many, many years.”

Then he came out to a few close friends and family, a step he acknowledged could be dangerous in some homophobic societies.

While some close friends urged him to maintain his job and life in the church, despite having a relationship, Charamsa says he could not maintain a double life. “My relationship has not been long but enough to be sure to know it’s love. I love this man and he loves me and I want to offer my life to him. I am convinced that I could [have] done this as a priest,” he says.

“And the third part was [coming out] publicly. Many people have said it [the announcement] was so spectacular, so big, that it did not come at a good time. With these people I have a question: when is it a good time to come out in the church? When? After the synod? The answer is: ‘never’. The responsible time for coming out is never.”

Too many priests, he says, fall into deep depression as they seek to grapple with double lives and suffer a sense of culpability. “I am not a paedophile. I am a healthy homosexual man. I am not a monster. I am not bestial. I am a minority, but I have my dignity and this must be approved by my church.”

Charamsa insists he did not come out because of a sense of frustration or because he was pressured to do so by his partner. “He was perfect in this process. He was really a mature man and was convinced it was my decision, but he was capable of helping and offering his life for this traumatic passage, for this decision which existentially for priests is like going away from prison. Like Guantánamo,” he says.

The former Vatican official was also driven by an understanding, built over years, that a real discussion of homosexuality within the church, and particularly the doctrinal office he worked for, was impossible.

In 2013, the pope uttered his now-famous phrase “Who am I to judge” when he was asked about the existence of a “gay lobby” within the Vatican. Charamsa said it was “like a bomb for the Catholic mentality”.

“My first reaction was ‘fantastic’. This is the man who said marriage equality is demonic when he was archbishop … and when he became pope, he began thinking and talking in another perspective,” he says. “For me, the phrase returned dignity to gay men, which is destroyed by the church.”

But now Charamsa says the comment was merely a “slogan”, because the church is “locked, in a paranoid position against the pope”. “I think the pope has a practical mind. He has the perception that he has no collaborators. It’s like in a government, where a ministry works against the prime minister. I think Pope Francis has also a conviction that he has opposition so great that this is not for this moment,” he says.

“We [in the church] are incapable of knowing one another. Of dialogue. It is like a mental dictatorship. I’m from Poland. I knew the communist system, it is irrational, without argument.”

There were moments in the past, such as in 2009, when Pope Benedict reaffirmed the church’s opposition to gay men becoming priests, when Charamsa says he sought to challenge himself intellectually to rationalise the church’s position, though he now likens it to a “racist judgment”.

‘The homosexual possibility of marriage in our century is very important for the perception of marriage,’ Charamsa says.

He is also critical of the church’s approach to abortion and says he supports the pope’s recent call for a year of mercy for contrite women who have had the procedure. Traditionally, women seeking forgiveness could only be granted it by a senior church official, but Francis has given that power to all priests beginning on 8 December, during the Catholic church’s jubilee year of mercy

“When you think about poor women, about poverty, it is easy for a priest with money, a peaceful life and no family problems to say that women cannot have abortions,” he says. “But we cannot be so drastic, so automatic, so insensible, so inhuman. We defend life – the new life – and condemn the life of the woman.”

On the issue of same-sex marriage, Charamsa believes the extension of rights across the US and western Europe, as well as other countries around the world, is a truly Christian good because it is a development that has strengthened the institution of marriage for everyone. It is the opposite view of many religious-based critics of same-sex unions.

“The homosexual possibility of marriage in our century is very important for the perception of marriage. It helps to explain that essential in marriage is love,” he says. “You can say ‘no, it is to produce babies’. But I think it must begin with love and then we can speak of life, of children. I think homosexual people are prophetic.”

One day, Charamsa will be remembered for his prophetic words and remarkable courage. Brings to mind God's message to Jeremiah, "They will fight against you, but not prevail over you, for I am with you to deliver you—oracle of the Lord" (Jer 1:19).