Forty years ago, Chicago may have been known for its large Catholic community and for its growing LGBT population, but seldom did the two meet publicly.
That changed in 1972, when a group of Chicagoans adopted the model of Dignity/USA, an organization that had formed three years prior in an effort to embrace people who were both LGBT and Catholic.
On May 19, Dignity/Chicago will celebrate its 40th anniversary.
Dignity/Chicago has grown over the years from a space of worship to an arm for social change and, perhaps more recently, a testimony to the fact that Catholicism and homophobia do not go hand-in-hand.
"You can be gay and be Catholic," said Chris Pett, president of Dignity/Chicago. "You can reconcile those two identities."
When Dignity's Chicago chapter began four decades ago, it was the fourth of its kind in the country. Los Angeles had been the first followed by Louisville and New York City.
A year prior to Dignity's formation, Mary Houlihan, a member of the Catholic laity organization Legion of Mary, had been holding mass for gay and lesbian Catholics in Chicago. When Dignity/Chicago formed, it took on those masses and moved them to St. Sebastian Church in Lakeview (St. Sebastian has since closed).
The organization grew throughout the 1970s. It held Dignity/USA's national convention in 1977 and fought anti-gay initiatives around the country by fundraising against Anita Bryant-backed referendums.
But when the AIDS crisis hit in the early '80s, Dignity—like most LGBT organizations—went into overdrive.
"You had somebody who became ill, and their friends became their family," said Pett.
For many people, that family was Dignity, which ministered to many AIDS patients in their final hours. It was a natural response for an LGBT Catholic organization, said Pett. It was both in service to Catholic values and also to their own community which was being decimated by the virus.
Pett notes that in addition to serving AIDS patients directly, Dignity members sat on the boards of many LGBT organizations that responded the crisis.
In 1988, the organization faced another significant hurdle. Cardinal Joseph Bernardin had begun questioning the existence of Dignity/Chicago. He directed St. Sebastian to cut ties, said Pett. Dignity was presented with a choice: retract their affirmation of LGBT identity or leave the church.
Dignity decided to leave. They began meeting at Resurrection Lutheran Church and then at several other welcoming churches until 1992 when they landed at their present home at Broadway United Methodist Church in Lakeview.
Marianne Duddy-Burke, executive director of Dignity/USA, noted that the displacement of Dignity chapters from Catholic churches has actually strengthened Dignity. For one, she said, Dignity has been forced to form alliances with other denominations that house Dignity services.
"A lot of these things that look like punishments or burdens have become blessings," she said.
As Dignity/Chicago grew over the years, it also changed its mission. It maintained its original goal of providing space for LGBT Catholics, but it also became a force for social justice.
Members held prayerful witness demonstrations outside of Holy Name Cathedral and outside of Bernadine's home. They have lobbied on pro-gay legislation, often demonstrating that people of faith support LGBT causes.
It is a role that Dignity has played increasingly as the Catholic hierarchy becomes more vocally opposed to LGBT rights and as some LGBT people have come to equate Catholics with homophobia.
"There are lots and lots of ways that people live out their Catholicism," Duddy-Burke said. "This is my church. This is my faith. This is where I experience God and community in a way that it truly life-giving."
Dignity/Chicago was one of a handful of local LGBT Catholic organizations to question comments made by Cardinal Francis George late last year about Chicago's LGBT community. Weighing in on one church's request to move the kick-off time of the Pride Parade to a later hour, George commented that the Pride Parade was at risk of morphing to something like the Ku Klux Klan, protesting against Catholicism.
Dignity voiced opposition to the comments in no uncertain terms.
"Where is the cardinal's charity and love for the LGBT community?" Pett wrote in a statement, adding later, "This is another attempt to make the church appear to be the victim when so many LGBT people and youths have been victimized by the church's exclusion and intolerance."
However, Dignity/Chicago has had to reconcile its own contractions as well. Two years ago, the organization made a decision to include women priests, ordained by the Roman Catholic Womenpriests.
"If we were to take this step, it was a justice issue and this was the next step in our growth," Pett said. Some disagreed with the decision and left Dignity, but most supported the move, Pett said.
Today, Dignity holds services on Sunday evenings and has more than 40 members. Approximately 20 people attend weekly mass, and the organization has two women priests.
Duddy-Burke believes that Dignity/Chicago's 40th Anniversary is milestone for the larger organization, among other things, as four other chapters celebrate 40th anniversaries this year.
For Pett, the significance of the occasion is perhaps simpler.
"We are an expression of 40 years of fidelity to who we are as Catholics," he said.
Dignity/Chicago will be hosting a celebration dinner May 19 at 6-10 p.m. at Francesca's on Taylor, 1400 W. Taylor St. Writer Jamie Manson will be the guest speaker. Tickets are available online.
Duddy-Burke will give a homily at the Celebration Mass the follow day, May 20, at Broadway United Methodist, 3338 N. Broadway. Mass begins at 5 p.m.
More information on Dignity/Chicago, its upcoming celebrations and ticket purchase is available at www.dignity-chicago.org/content/welcome.
