On December 18, 2023, the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith issued the declaration Fiducia Supplicans, which granted permission for Catholic priests to bestow blessings upon couples in “irregular situations” and same-sex couples. Discussions surrounding the meaning and implications of this letter have been extensive, occasioned by the confusion it generates and the theological inconsistencies it contains. Recently, along with Catholic leaders around the world, I signed a “Filial Appeal” addressed to cardinals and bishops expressing concerns about the repercussions and substance of Fiducia Supplicans and advocating for its withdrawal.
I endorse the intention of Fiducia Supplicans to the extent that it seeks to embrace individuals who feel unjustly marginalized by the Church, particularly those who have faced cruelty or disrespect that has led to their alienation. I also acknowledge the document’s affirmation of the Church’s unwavering teachings on sexual morality. And I welcome its invitation to individuals who struggle to live the demands of chastity—a moral challenge faced by many believers, as any confessor knows.
But the invitation is, unfortunately, anemic—as when it expresses the vague hope that such “relationships may mature and grow in fidelity to the Gospel, [and] . . . be freed from their imperfections and frailties,” without identifying the very reason that these couples are couples: those very imperfections and frailties. Moreover, something important is left out. One point that is not addressed in Fiducia Supplicans (and was not much discussed at the Synod on Synodality in October) is the following: The call to chastity does not entail the repression of a natural and healthy proclivity; rather, chastity is seen by the Christian tradition as a rational, spiritual, and humane way to direct the sexual instinct to a higher end than self-satisfaction. One need not be a fundamentalist, or even a believer, to see the ennobling benefit of redirecting one’s appetites in this way. People do it all the time in dieting and exercise. Harvey Weinstein might still be making movies had he been habituated to disciplining rather than merely fulfilling his proclivities. But in Fiducia Supplicans, in place of this traditional, positive view of chastity, we encounter the implication that the proscription of certain sexual acts is wholly negative, oppressive, a relic of past intolerance.
What has attracted more comment than any other part of Fiducia Supplicans is its apparent assumption that people who are living in same-sex relationships cannot do otherwise. Maybe the best we can say for this approach is that it strives to be charitable. Setting aside the developmental confusion that can arise from cases of sexual abuse early in life, for the most part the struggle faced by individuals with same-sex orientation is made poignant when we acknowledge that their orientation is not chosen but discovered, a discovery that often results in alienation and interior isolation. So, the disposition to charity is not misplaced.
But the Church has always held that charity entails speaking the truth about sin. This is a problem for Fiducia Supplicans, and the solution it offers amounts to a rhetorical expedient, a distinction without a difference. When Fiducia Supplicans aims to demonstrate respect for the dignity of individuals who struggle with the demands of the gospel, it takes a shortcut by dodging the obvious truth that a couple is defined by the union the two parties share and the actions that constitute them as a couple. The blessing ostensibly is not on the union as such, or on the sexual behavior that constitutes it, but rather on the individuals within the unions. But this distinction is untenable. The blessing of individuals within such unions implies approval of the union itself—else why is it a union at all?—contradicting the document’s assertion (along with subsequent comments by Cardinal Fernández and Pope Francis) that it does not seek to endorse the actions that constitute such unions. The new paradigm of Fiducia Supplicans turns out to be just a slippery handling of traditional concepts.
This slipperiness, which tends to undermine Catholics’ trust in the Church’s theological leadership, comes at a bad time. The timing of the document’s release, shortly after the Synod on Synodality, casts doubt on the authenticity and transparency of the synodal process itself. The complete lack of representation of faithful Catholics with same-sex attraction during the synod discussions underscores these concerns.
The participation of representatives of the Courage Apostolate, or Eden Invitation, or the Spiritual Friendship movement, or any of these bodies’ international equivalents, would have enriched the conversation at the synod. Why were they not included? Instead, those claiming to represent the concerns of people with same-sex attraction at the synod seemed intent on affirming their “gay identity,” even discreetly dissenting from the Church’s teaching, rather than addressing the struggles of those who strive to adhere to Church teachings. New Ways Ministry joyfully estimates that a significant number of invited participants to the synod had publicly supported revisions of the Church’s teaching on same-sex relationships. And of the only two references to repentance in the final document of the synod, both were aimed at the Church, not to those living outside Church teaching.
In attempting to accompany individuals struggling with same-sex attraction, the Church must recognize—that is, she must see for what they are—movements and people whose messages diverge from her consistent teaching on marriage, such as New Ways Ministry, Outreach, the synod’s relator general, the synod’s undersecretary, and the synod’s retreat master, all of whom have openly dissented from the Church’s teaching. The Church accepts all sinners, of course. She also requires repentance and effort toward reform—requires, that is, acceptance of her teaching. Amid the rage to affirm and include, the voices of faithful Catholics who have successfully and—as they will tell you—joyfully lived according to Church teachings have been overlooked. Their journey likely involved rejection, ridicule, and perhaps a lack of understanding at points. Yet they have found solace in embracing the Cross of Christ.
It is worth pausing here to consider what speaking of the Cross entails. The Cross stands at the center of the Church’s self-understanding, at the very heart of the Church’s message of redemption. Its redemptive function and captivating power (John 12:32) are expressed in a multitude of ways throughout the New Testament. It is likewise true that the notion of a cross, a horrific first-century emblem of capital punishment, has always been double-edged: both a sign of contradiction and a promise that a reversal of fortunes will take place (Phil. 3:10–11). The Cross makes no sense in an age committed to immediate gratification and the assumption that if any joy or peace or pleasure is to be had, it must be had in this life.
It is not difficult to understand that this hard message of self-denial would be seen as cruel, indeed absurd, by people who do not share the Church’s vision of human life as transcendent (1 Cor. 1:18–19). Surely, if it falls to anyone to maintain this message, it falls to the Church. Yet one seeks in vain for the logic of the Cross in Fiducia Supplicans or in discussions of same-sex attraction at the synod. Instead, Fiducia Supplicans implicitly challenges and, it might be said, disparages the significance and value of the struggles and sacrifices of homosexually oriented persons living single lives by its focus on people living as couples. It thus undermines the sacrament of penance, the Church’s source of reconciliation.
It’s disheartening that amidst all the words of accompaniment and inclusion at the synod, the voices of these faithful individuals have been absent. What insights, of benefit to all believers, might they have contributed? The abandonment they might justifiably feel within the Church would be palpable, highlighting an alarming disconnect between some in the hierarchy and those striving to live out their commitments faithfully.
Countless such individuals are invisible. They do not join strident movements of dissent or protest, and their struggles are confided only to close friends or support groups or in the confessional—not out of self-loathing but because their identity transcends their inclinations.
In these challenging times for the Church, it’s imperative to recognize and address the feelings of abandonment experienced by these loyal sons and daughters of God. Their voices and experiences are numerous, varied, and invaluable in shaping a more faithful, compassionate, and truly inclusive Church community. Fiducia Supplicans may have indeed wanted to do this, but it failed by offering what Bonhoeffer called cheap grace.
Robert A. Sirico is co-founder of the Acton Institute.
Image by Ricky Esquivel, public domain. Image cropped.
