The Roman Catholic Diocese of San Jose has a traveling LGBT mass called “All Are Welcome” (see a news report about it here; the reporter enthuses that this could be a first step in changing Catholic teaching). I found out about it in this comment from a reader:

I am a recent Protestant (Evangelical, Pentecostal, Emergent) to Catholic convert. Dr. Gregory’s The Unintended Reformation and Christian Smith’s The Bible Made Impossible were two of most influential books illuminating my path to Rome. Dr. Trueman’s critique does not do justice to the nuance of Dr. Gregory’s premise. However, Dr. Trueman is correct that the Catholic Church is a mess. I was not prepared for the intrigue, rancor and aesthetic and liturgical devastation of the present Catholic church.

I was looking for a church with beauty and intellectual rigor. I find neither of those things in my suburban neighborhood; the churches resemble big box stores and the music consists of praise choruses.

I concur with Dr. Smith, the church, following Vatican II, is profoundly different than the church that preceded it. I have been reading books to try to understand how and why the church has changed so drastically in the last 50 years. Melissa Wilde’s Vatican II: A Sociological Analysis of Religious Change and Rodney Stark’s The Churching of America: 1776-2005 yield much insight. Also illuminating is Italian historian, Roberto de Mattei’s Vatican II: The Untold Story.

I was looking for a church that would help me to lead a holy life that is pleasing to God. I was 50 years too late; the postconciliar church cannot help me to achieve my goal. The last straw is my diocese’s new traveling LGBT Mass. I thought that perhaps the Mass was going to provide support to Catholics who identify as LGBT but who aspire to live chaste lives in keeping with the teachings of our Lord and the Catechism. I asked the nun who coordinates the Mass if my presumption was correct. She disabused me of that notion and clarified that living a chaste life is not the goal. For purposes of clarification, I asked her if I could bring my (theoretical) girlfriend. She told me that we were welcome to attend. I clarified the sexual nature of my (theoretical) relationship. She told me that the church welcomes us as a couple. However, she clarified that we need to be in a committed relationship. So I can have sex with one lady, with my diocese’s blessing, but I cannot have sex with lots of ladies.

I realize now that I am on my own.

Yes, in that neck of the woods you are. An old friend who lives in the Diocese of San Jose has been telling me about things like this for over 20 years.

This is a good example of the kind of thing I talk about from time to time, regarding how the battle lines in the culture war over sex and sexuality isn’t something found between churches, but within them.

If I were still Catholic and lived in that Diocese, I honestly don’t know what I would do. I could not go to mass in diocesan parishes that so clearly and even proudly defied authoritative church teaching any more than I could go to an Arian mass back in the day. And I don’t know how I could in good conscience encourage someone to come into communion with the Catholic Church knowing that the struggle to achieve ordinary holiness would require having to battle (however quietly) priests and church authorities over what is basic truth.

This kind of thing matters a lot. Back in the 1990s, when I was a convinced and ardent Catholic, a tradition-minded friend who was leaving the Episcopal Church over questions of doctrine and practice was trying to decide between Catholicism and Orthodoxy. I made the case to him for Catholicism. He said that he was worried about his kids. Offended, I told him he was wrong to expect that his children’s sexual safety would be in danger if he became Catholic. No, no, no, he said, I don’t mean that. I mean that the Catholic Church in this country is in such a mess that I would worry whether or not my kids would hold on to their faith when they grew up. He explained that as far as he could tell, a real commitment to upholding and living out the full integrity of Catholic teaching ended with the Pope and his admirers (of which he was one), but at the parish level in most places, you were on your own.

I told him that the only thing that mattered was whether or not the Roman ecclesiological claims were true. The rest would sort itself out. He chose Orthodoxy, and I was somewhat chagrined. Years later, when I had children of my own and faced the same questions (e.g., having to explain to my oldest child while driving home after mass that what Father preached in the homily is not what the Church believes), I understood what my friend had meant. You know what happened to me next

I would like to ask the orthodox Catholics (not liberal Catholics, not Catholic dissenters, not ex-Catholics) in the room what you would do if you lived in that diocese. What advice would you give that reader on how to hold on now that she has been disillusioned? If you were to evangelize non-Catholics in that diocese, how would you go about it?

Note well: I’m not going to publish comments from people who don’t answer the question, or who fall into the excluded categories. This post is not an invitation to fight. In light of the Pew findings, I’m genuinely interested in how Catholics faithful to the Church’s teachings — priests, religious, and laity — navigate the reality on the ground.