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Journey To Faith
On that particular night, I was feeling restless as I was struggling with a lot of issues. I had many questions about life. Although God would come into my mind, sometimes, I had become very anti-church because of the hypocrisy and politics I saw within its structure. I even came to believe that God was just a thing of the mind, something that "weak" people needed in order to survive the hardships in life. I believed the human mind had all the answers and the capacity to solve all of the world's problems. I decided to have a couple of beers to quiet down my restlessness. Once I had finished the beer, I started on a bottle of whisky. I was rather depressed, and had been for the past couple of months. I was not really happy or fulfilled in life, and this bothered me because I always tended to be a happy and positive person. I had my career, a large number of good friends, a good job, a loving family, and I had goals-what else could I ask for? Well, by the end of that night, you can imagine how I ended up-I would have not been good company for anyone and was in a pretty sorry state of mind. I could not see, talk, or walk straight. Although I liked to party and had done my share for years, I had never drank alone, much less get that borracho! But it was in that drunken state of mind that I called out to God and said, "God, if you really exist, prove it to me." Then I passed out. When I awoke the following morning, I found myself on the floor. A week later, that same restlessness came over me. This time, I called my friends in my hometown of Oxnard in the hope that we could get together and have some drinks at our favorite bar. They liked the idea, so off I went to get together with my buddies. On my way, I decided to stop by my parents' house to pay them a quick visit since I had not seen them for a while. They were as happy to see me as I was to see them-it's always good to have your familia around. I had something to eat, chatted for a bit, and then told them I was going to get together with some of my friends. When I got in the car to leave, I had a strange feeling that I should go back to Santa Barbara. I followed that feeling, and without even calling my friends, I headed back to my apartment. Once I was on the freeway, I felt a new urge to take the next off-ramp and perhaps, pick up someone asking for a ride towards Santa Barbara. I liked picking up hitch hikers because I enjoyed talking with all types of people. It's kind of risky, I know, but I was a young, daring, risk-taking kind of college student. Sure enough, there was a young man on the side of the street asking for a ride, so I drove over and picked him up. He was in his early 20s and had a really nice smile. Once we were driving, he asked me if I knew Jesus Christ. I told him that I did, hoping that would be the end of it because I wasn't in the mood to be preached to all night. He went on to say that there was a difference between hearsay and personal knowledge. That didn't go well with me and I became rather defensive and sarcastic. I wasn't in the mood to listen. Then he said that my stopping to pick him up was not coincidence-that it was meant to happen. He said that I had a mission in life and that it would be revealed to me in due time, if I allowed God to work my life. My mind was racing, wondering what all this meant. Then I remembered the previous Wednesday when I had asked God to prove his existence to me, and I began to think that maybe this was the proof I was asking for. I never thought He would accept a challenge from someone who called out to Him while he was drunk, but God listens and responds all the time. My new friend asked me to pray with him, and although at first, I didn't think that was such a good idea because it made me feel foolish and weak, I decided I didn't want to miss out on something that could be very good for me. Besides, the bottom line was that I had nothing to lose but maybe, something to gain. As we approached Santa Barbara, I asked him if he wanted to spend the night at my apartment since it was very late. He accepted and when we got home, I fixed him something to eat. He took a shower and we ended the night by saying a short prayer together. The following morning, I took him to catch a ride at the freeway since he was on his way to Oregon. We said goodbye, hugged, and that was the last time I ever saw or heard from him. He left me a small Bible and told me to read it everyday, and that God would lead me to a new way of life. Little did I know things were going to begin changing for me-so much so, that I would take on a whole new lifestyle. Eight months later, I found myself on an airplane headed to a small town near Mexico City where I was about to enter a seminary. There, I studied, prayed, and did missionary work for eleven years, and in 1983, I was ordained a priest. Though I was very happy and fulfilled, there was something about me that I had not yet dealt with. I was QV and didn't want to admit it to myself or anybody else. I thought homosexuality was terrible and "an abomination before God," but the issue kept coming up in my mind until I decided to deal with it-I knew God wanted me to. The more I thought about it, the more I began to realize that such strong love for another human being could not be sinful before God's eyes. After all, love is what we are called to give and receive. It is healthy and gives us a sense of purpose and dignity. To not have someone to love is unhealthy and not part of God's plan in our life. If I want to quote scripture, I would quote Genesis 2:18 where God says, "It is not good for man to be alone." Since being QV is not a choice, my companion would be another man. No problem-just pure and simple logic. I came to the conclusion that I wanted to come out of the closet and be free to have a companion in my life, someday. As a priest, I knew that I could not have a wife or a husband, and that if I wanted a significant other, I would have to make the decision to leave the church. So, in 1993, I decided to leave the Roman Catholic Church and be a priest in the American Catholic Church where I would be allowed to continue my priesthood and live with a companion, if I so desired. From my experience, I learned that God's love is very personal and that he wants me to share my personal happiness with another person. I know I cannot be other than what I am-a QV man and priest. I thank God for the faith he has given me. I have realized that God is above any one religion. In fact, God is above all we can ever imagine. And is it right for we, as humans, to decide who God does or does not love? Only God can speak for Himself. For myself, I am not afraid of God, but rather love Him by doing all I can to draw myself closer to Him. I thank God I am human. I thank God I am a priest. I thank God I am QV!
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MY
JOURNEY INTO PRIESTHOOD all started on a cold November day in
1972. It was Wednesday and the wind was blowing strongly, making
the branches of the trees dance to its rhythm. I was a student
at the University of California in Santa Barbara. I was majoring
in sociology and wanted to do social work because I always had
an interest in people and compassion for the underdog. I had
been president of MEChA, a Latino student organization, and had
worked closely with Cesar Chavez in unionizing farmworkers. I
had a heart for the poor and those who were looked down upon
by society's so-called "upper class." Both my parents
were from Mexico so I always felt proud of my heritage and would
travel there every summer to visit los primos y parientes.