On building and being bridges

I have often encountered my sense of vocation in the image of a bridge–to live in the tensions between insider and outsider; rich and poor; student and teacher; etc. In these tensions I see possible spaces where people who live in opposing worlds can encounter and accompany one another to unpack their shared humanity. I’m particularly drawn to these spaces as a committed Catholic and gay man who finds himself no less one for the other.

What do I mean? I’m thinking of my pastor–who leads a ministry for struggling gay Catholic men–who can quietly observe that the sense in a gay bar that everyone’s slept with everyone in fact points to something related to communion. He is a bridge across which a leather bear and a holy roller might see something of their shared humanity. I reminisce about long dates with my “sex-positive” feminist friend who works for Planned Parenthood yet is still drawn to Mass on even her groggiest Sunday mornings. In our relationship we find bridges as we learn from one another, which could never happen if one of us came to every conversation with an agenda. I’m also hearkening to the writers at spiritualfriendship.org, as I aspire to tread in their intellectual and ministerial footsteps.