Since My Last Confession: A Gay Catholic Memoir (36 page)

Well, not so much. None of this happened. Let’s just say that the Mohawks wouldn’t have found much to eat in the chests of the local priesthood.

A proposed amendment to ban gay marriage came before the legislature a third time in late 2003, around the time the SJC had recognized same-sex marriage in Massachusetts as a constitutional right. As always, two steps forward, one back: none of the priests would testify, in part because the bishop of the Archdiocese of Worcester was to speak.

The tables turned. Now the only Catholic voice at the hearing was the Church’s. Worcester’s bishop delivered the Church’s views with ringing clarity: “To redefine marriage itself or change the meaning of ‘spouse’ … is to deny the unique public value of the spousal bond between a man and a woman.” In a subsequent letter to the editor of several newspapers, Reilly added that gays “do not possess the right to have a same-sex relationship treated as a basis for entitlements.”

That amendment proposal ultimately went on to victory in 2004. Halftime score: gay people 2, Church 1.

But the Church had won the most recent battle and had momentum on its side.

Back-Room Heroes

To make it to the ballot, amendment proposals must win approval by two successive legislative sessions. So while Scott and I were singing “You’re a Grand Old Flag” and not engaging with Mr. Sodomy and Pastor Bob, Gunner and her fellow lobbyists were working feverishly inside the State House to get legislators to defeat the amendment on the second round.

They operated on a simple principle: You’ve got to learn to be a good listener before you can ever be a good legislator. They hand-picked citizens from the legislators’ districts to meet with their representatives and tell their (gay) life stories. Almost weekly, Gunner called PFLAG or a lesbian parents’ playgroup and placed a request for voters the way you’d place an order for fast food at a drive-through:

• Find me a working-class lesbian couple, preferably in the helping professions, who have lost their health care. Adoptive children and a horrible disease would be a big plus.
  

• Find me a conservative heterosexual father who struggled to make peace with his lesbian daughter but now is sponsoring the daughter’s wife’s conversion to Catholicism.
  

• Find me a senior lesbian volleyball player who’s a former nun and primary caregiver to her devout Catholic mom.
  

• Find me a one-legged gay veteran with a couple of Vietnam tours, a Purple Heart, and a mean cribbage habit.
  

• Find me a homosexual lector-lawyer working for the government with an angry atheist boyfriend, a porn career, and a chip on his shoulder!
  

OK, Gunner never really asked for that last one, but I was ready to do my part had I been called on.

To win over Marian Walsh, a legislator known for her deep Catholic faith and a voting record consistent with the chancery’s positions, Gunner sought a parent of a gay kid who was Catholic, went to parochial school, and lived in Walsh’s district. The best the local PFLAG group could do was a shy woman who fit the description, but lived in the district adjacent to Walsh’s. Walsh took the meeting anyway, and she and the mother immediately hit it off

“You know that Catholic chatter,” Gunner said. “Same schools, same nuns, oh Sister So-and-so this, and oh Sister So-and-so that.”

When the meeting ended, Walsh declared she would vote against the amendment. “I think it’s
mean”
Walsh said.

“Mean?”

“Mean,” Walsh confirmed.

Excited, Gunner asked Walsh to use her influence to persuade others.

Walsh fixed Gunner with a steely look: “You’ve had a pretty good day today,” she said. The subtext: Don’t push your luck.

Gunner nevertheless continued to work the Catholic legislators. Despite her Jewish heritage, she was the go-to lesbian in charge of clerics. “He needs a priest,” the other lobbyists told her. “Go get one.” If the target legislator was a genuine churchgoer, Gunner tapped her network of friendly priests to determine whether the legislator’s parish priest was gay-friendly. They scanned the church bulletins, probed the priestly scuttlebutt, and did everything but check guest lists at Provincetown bed-and-breakfasts.

Gunner and her crew no doubt used a checklist that looked something like this:

Swishy walk to the podium

Gold-tipped canes

A Romentics novel collection

Entourage including coachman, valet, and music (or perhaps dungeon) master

Ownership of a miniature greyhound Q Subscription to
Bay Windows

Association with Father McSlutty

Demonstrated talent in the primary homosexual arts — design, gardening, bitchery, etc.

CD collection includes Maria Callas, Judy Garland, Gregorian chant, Billie Holiday

Broadway-style liturgies

Score as follows:

0—2 Straightish

3—5 Questioning

6—8 Answering the question

9-10 Big nancy queen; sign him up!

Her efforts produced results. Gunner wouldn’t comment on or identify particular pastors, but she said that many priests had quietly lent a hand in the lobbying against the amendment. Representative Paul Kujawski, who ultimately voted to defeat the gay marriage ban, said that two priests had made arguments to him against the amendment. Another Catholic legislator, Christine Canavan, said she consulted her local priest, who told her to vote her conscience — not necessarily the Church’s party line.