I immensely enjoyed reading Urs Mattmann’s Coming In.
It gave me much food for thought and led me to learn about topics with which I’d
been unfamiliar. It also resonated with quite a bit of that with which I’m
already quite familiar, having been a hospital chaplain and a co-facilitator
for our diocese’s outreach to Catholic men and women who experience same-sex
attraction, Courage (https://couragerc.org/),
for many years now.
In his introduction to the book, Franciscan priest Fr.
Richard Rohr, explains that Coming In is about building respect and
trust. These are natural expressions of one’s choice to live the law of love,
and are expected of people who profess to follow The Way. The book shares much
in common with other books that have the same goal.
I particularly liked Mattmann’s contemplative approach. He
quotes Karl Rahner’s famous observation that the Christian of the future will
be a mystic or he will be nothing. Certainly not everyone sees it that way,
given the reality that everyone must follow his or her own spiritual path.
The book is well-organized, it seemed to me, moving from a
general consideration of homosexuality as an intentional gift of God, on through
considerations of how one could explore that and become a gift to the world, up
to thoughts about what next steps might be. Specifically, Mattmann writes: “The
integration of homosexuality is as important a step in the growth of humanity
as the widespread abolition of slavery, racist structures, and the battle for
the equality of women. In that sense the integration of homosexuality is vital
to a wider and more mature human consciousness. It has to come about as part of
the ongoing unfoldment of creation.” (p.57)
Regrettably, he follows this thought-provoking assertion with
a quote from Toby Johnson, who states that everyone should be interested and
supportive of the gay and lesbian agenda, with the same fervor as if a new
organ had developed in the human body. I was reminded, as I read that, of E.B.
White’s essay The Age of the Tail and wondered if he had read it. I
would add that I am enormously suspicious and resistant to those who wish to
tell me what I ought to be interested in and support. I believe the term for
that is “musturbation,” and is the among the uglier forms of self-abuse one can
visit upon oneself. The book didn’t need that, IMHO.
Mattmann explains that his purpose is to answer four
important questions: Who are we? Where are we coming from? Why are we here?
Where are we going? (p.19). An extensive
bibliography appears at the end of the book, to help with that exploration.
Each chapter is accompanied by questions, exercise and a prayer to help consolidate
what the chapter expressed and conduce the reader to further thought, prayer
and action.
To Mattmann, spirituality is “…the experience of the divine
in our lives” (p. 37) and has something to do with a love relationship that has
its origin and end in God.(p. 33). He mentions that he has identified
twenty-eight different practices to help unlock the gift that homosexuality has
to offer, developing fourteen of the salient ones in the text.
Some of these practices will sound like familiar counsels to
anyone who has engaged the spiritual journey, e.g., meditation, developing friendship
and engaging in dialog with others on the spiritual path, discovering the
sacred in and around oneself in daily life, creating a prayer spot in one’s
living space, and so on. Recommending “Wisdom Cards” (Tarot) could have been
omitted without damage to the text, seems to me.
I liked the notion that homosexual people can be
instrumental in improving same-sex interactions, especially among males, making
them less violent, competitive and tender. I suspect that would be a tough sell
to the NFL or the US Marines, but if a credible and well-loved leadership
position could ever be established from which such instruction could be given
to the general public, that might lead to a much-needed and welcome improvement.
Mattmann qualifies his call to mysticism by recommending
that it bypass all dogma and “punitive moralism.” Unfortunately, “dogma” can be
understood to be as toxic a word as “disordered” is in another context. Etymologically
however, it’s simply “that which one thinks is true/good.” The Law of Love that
Mattmann refers to frequently in his writing, can thus be seen as dogma. Not
one to be avoided, either, seems to me. Likewise, “punitive moralism” might
simply be our code of criminal justice, seen through other eyes. If he has not
already done so, I’d recommend that he read Cicero’s De Oficiis, concerning
the limits and pitfalls of self-determined morality (next to the Bible, it was
the second most frequently published book for hundreds of years after the invention of movable type). To be candid,
I believe I know where he’s going with his statement – away from coercion and
judgment – but a broader view might be more useful to him and to others, in the
long run.
I was astonished to read on p. 72 that “…it’s obvious that
the world already has enough people.” Parson Malthus lives! Don’t know how that
got past the editor.
Mattmann’s description of the Wounded Healer struck a chord.
Although it’s true that we are all wounded, not everyone chooses to engage that
reality and become such a person. Other alternatives include being Victims,
Outraged Avengers and so on. But as Richard Rohr mentions in other works of his,
“evil that isn’t transformed is transmitted.” This may be the most important
mission of anyone engaged as a Wounded Healer in Coming In or Coming Out. Maybe
we could profitably add “Coming To” or “Coming Around” to the list.
Although I heartily agree about the great value of Wounded
Healers, I do need to express a frustration of my own at this point,
disagreeing with the characterization he presents on p. 93 – not everyone who
disagrees with you is ipso facto a “homophobe.” Kindly strike that word
from your vocabulary – it’s as welcome as the N-word, and is used for the same
diminishing, marginalizing purpose.
The chapter on sexuality as a source of strength left me
puzzled. Not sure what to make of it, so I won’t make anything of it. De
gustibus non est disputandum.
I very much liked the notion of Coming In accompanying Coming
Out and the thought that it involved silence, contemplation and letting go. I
nearly fell out of my chair when I read on one of my all time (and memorized)
quotes of Merton on p. 132! I only wished that he’d included the whole thought,
up to the conclusion “…and if we could see them, we would see all these billion
of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun in who light
all the darkness and cruelty of life would vanish…. I have no program for such
seeing. It is only given. Yet the gate of heaven is everywhere.”[1]
That there is no “program” points to the needs to develop a practice of
tranquil, humble openness and hope that the gift is indeed given
On p. 135, Mattmann states that: “Many gay men and lesbian women
are forced to live closeted, inauthentic lives by both their internalized
homophobia and the external homophobia which permeates their culture and the
churches.” I would challenge Mattmann to remove the “H-word” and replace it
with a more comprehensive expression or explanation. The deeper reality is much
more complex, I suspect, and represents the main reason why the origins of
homosexuality for any given person need not be themselves closeted, but rather examined
as part of the process of acceptance that needs to occur as part of Coming In.
I don’t think it’s helpful to project the reasons for our discomforts onto
other people or institutions, whether we’re discussing homosexuality or anything
else. Mattmann might eventually agree with me, since he states on p. 143,
treating of the False Self, that “we are as ill as our hidden secrets.”
I was intrigued by the way in which Mattmann writes about
the Way of Christ. Was he “queer?” In the broader sense of “different than the
rest of us” he has a good point. We would be well advised to let that notion
carry us to the place where we can see things as Jesus did, as uncomfortably different
as it might turn out to be. Karen Armstrong makes the point in The Case for
God that we need to be reminded that God is transcendent, not a concept or
a proposition to be proved, not falsifiable in Karl Popper’s sense, not “redefinable”
(p. 200) and certainly not just another Kantian category. Failing to honor the
difference may take us squarely in Mt. 7:21 territory.
I very much liked Mattmann’s view on death and resurrection
as mirrored in the coming out/in process. “In resurrection there is a second
birth.” (p.162). An honest Christian would agree, yet simultaneously confess
that he or she has no idea what landscape that might open upon. Mattmann
courageously describes the seamier side of the homosexual world, which is as evident
as the Weinstein/Epstein etc. depravity in the heterosexual world. It remains to be
seen about this resurrection then, whether it mirrors Jesus’ or is more like
Yeats’ “rough beast slouching towards Bethlehem to be born.”
I would recommend this book to anyone who is seeking a
closer relationship with his Source and Destiny. It would also be useful to
people who wish to accompany homosexual persons in their journeys through life,
and homosexual people themselves. One need not agree with everything that’s
presented, but that’s true of any book like this and should not deter a person
from reading it. It can certainly help a reader to become a kinder, more
compassionate and loving person.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR,Part 255.
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