MY SEX LIFE AS A JESUIT MATTERED (BUT NO ONE ASKED ME ABOUT IT)

I spent 10 years in religious life as a Jesuit. If people asked me about my sex life I could have told them about being gay and being religious. But no one asked me about it, who am I to judge?

The Roman collar does not mean one is not sexual, but it might mean one is sexually unhealthy.

In 2005 I entered the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits). I discerned and responded to an invitation from God to Come and See. I first heard God calling me to the priesthood in 1995, when I was 15 years old. The call was subtle, coming from within; a tender, loving voice that was not my own. Unlike that voice, the burgeoning physical presence of my human sexuality overpowered me. Puberty and adolescence were short-lived and powerful, every moment mattered; especially the time spent naked in front of the mirror asking myself, "What turns me on?"

Not only was a I tuning in to God's still small voice, but I was discerning my human sexuality. Was I straight, bisexual or gay – might I even be the wrong gender if I was attracted to boys? AOL, chat rooms and Internet porn helped me answer some of those questions, but my personal experience of human intimacy was the most helpful.

With girls I was awkward, especially when we were naked. We fumbled into each other, our skin collided; each fleeting embrace seemed more and more whimsical than the last. With boys I took my time, exploring their bodies, intrigued by their crevices, their lips, their nipples. While I had had sexual intercourse with girls, I hurried through it like I did the mile run in gym. With boys I took my time, as one might in front of a good fire or over a sunset at the beach with a best friend. No, none of those boys turned out be my lovers, but those boys did help me to understand that sexual health (sic psychological health) matters whether you are straight, bisexual or gay.

And that was something I took with me to my discernment about becoming a Roman Catholic priest. Despite my own family's issues with same-sex sexual attraction or same-sex sexual intimacy I promised myself that I'd never use clerics or the confessional to run from my sexuality. God had never hated me for being gay, and I would never let the Church hierarchy bent on cultural warfare tell me I was disordered, disoriented or unnatural. God made me in God's image and likeness. Sex is about more than procreation.

Of course it was harder for me to articulate my sexuality within the structure of the Diocese of Rockville Centre. Many of the priests and seminarians I met on Long Island were asexual. The closeted gay men I met seemed sad and lonely. Which is why, when I did not see myself developing a healthy sexual identity in their formation program, either as a gay teenager, or as a young adult, I hit the road, and started to discern with the Franciscans and the Jesuits.

In 2003 I contacted Fr. Peter Arabia by email. In the email I wrote Fr. Peter that I told him I was openly gay, healthy, and that I had been discerning the priesthood since 15-years old. I told Fr. Peter that I was not running from my sexuality, that I published an article about the Newport Sex Scandal (America's first anti-gay crusade). I told Fr. Peter that I'd never be forced back into the closet. Coming out to my family two times was already too much; I vowed never to retreat back into the closet, after all it was not my issue, it was my families. Again, sexual health matters.

Within 24 hours Fr. Peter wrote me back and said let's meet. There was no comment or question about what I wrote. He invited me to Come and See the Jesuit way of living. I gladly obliged; this was what God had called me to since 1995. We met at Saint Ignatius Retreat House on Long Island. Over coffee and cookies we talked about religious life, the vow of chastity, the Society of Jesus and being gay. Fr. Peter himself was a gay man ordained to serve the Church as a priest. Yet, over time I learned something sad about the life of straight, bisexual or gay men in religious life.

No one asks you about your sex life. But celibacy doesn't mean you're not sexual.

Of course you joke about sex in immature and unfruitful ways. Occasionally one might mention that their needs are not being met, or far worse, you meet a truly unhealthy Jesuit whose sexuality is unprocessed or disintegrated. These men could be novices, seminarians or fully formed Jesuit priests or brothers. They serve as parish priests, presidents of high schools, graduate students, academicians, social workers, doctors, and on and on.

Some have good prayer lives, some do not. The ones whose prayer life suffered, suffered also because they were supposed to be one dimensional, privately sexually nonplussed, but publicly sexually generative. As a Jesuit with a masters degree in social work I knew that one's sexuality is a vehicle through which human beings serve dynamically, creatively, compassionately, generatively and mostly empathically. Wherever you are on the spectrum of sexuality or gender sexual health matters.

As a Jesuit I had my fair share of success and failure living celibately. At times I turned to the most unhealthy outlets to vent frustration, or to celebrate achievements. Yes, there was Internet porn, and two affairs, but those unhealthy expressions of my sexuality reminded me of what I already knew, that sexual health matters, especially for men who might never express their human sexuality with another human being. Being sexually healthy is not about opting for repression or sublimation, celibacy or a rapacious diet of sex, being sexually healthy is about taking responsibility and ownership of one's health and mental health. The clerical collar does not mean one is not sexual, but it might mean one is sexually unhealthy.

Though I am no longer an openly gay Jesuit I do reflect on my history as a male religious seeking ordination in the Roman Catholic Church. I lament that lay people never asked me about my sexual identity, or even about my sex life – perhaps we missed opportunities for mature conversations about sex, human intimacy, the differences and similarities between chastity and married life, or God's love for the LGBTQ community. Perhaps I missed some opportunities to let people into my sex life, the story about my discernment to become a priest or my use of porn.

Mostly, I feel like I might have let down gay men like me, men whose family struggles to love them unconditionally, but who can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Gay men who understood God's love for them, who desired more than merely gay friendly parishes. I feel like I let down the very men who struggle to find a spiritual home in a merciless system of faith, a system of faith that supports an anti-gay agenda whether it is packaged by Pope Benedict XVI or Pope Francis I.

After I left the Jesuits and entered the Episcopal Church of America I realized something important: My sex life as a Jesuit mattered, but no one asked me about it.. Being sexually healthy matters whether you are a celibate religious, single, dating or married.

The next time you see your priest (or minister or rabbi or imam or monk) why not ask them, "How's your sex life?"