Vatican City – On September 6, 2025, the official Jubilee calendar lists an event titled “Jubilee of the Association La Tenda di Gionata and other associations.” The phrasing may seem vague, but it’s widely understood to refer to what many are already calling the LGBTQ+ Jubilee. More than surprising, the label is disconcerting — not because people will gather in St. Peter’s to pray (which is always a welcome act), but because of the narrative logic behind the event’s organization and its title.
Labelling as identity: a cultural drift
The question is not who prays, but how and why a framework is built around sexual orientation. One might ask: is there a Jubilee for heterosexuals? The question may seem provocative, but it exposes the absurdity of categorization. The Church has never seen human beings through sociological filters. Every time the Church adopts the classificatory models of society — whether political, economic, or sexual — it ends up distorting the essence of the faith. Because grace does not operate on labels, but on persons.
The Jewish philosopher Martin Buber wrote that “the most authentic reality of being is the encounter between the I and the Thou.” Not the I and the category. Not the I and the label. Face to face, person to person. Every time the persondisappears behind a flag or acronym, even the relationship with God fades.
Inclusion or symbolic ghettoization?
These events are often presented — and experienced — as a gesture of inclusion. But is it really inclusion when it begins by segregating? Or is this a new form of symbolic ghettoization? Defining a person by their sexual orientation reduces them to a partial trait. And that is not only simplistic, but psychologically dangerous.
Viktor Frankl, psychiatrist and founder of logotherapy, reminded us: “The human being is more than his drives, wounds, or inclinations.” Human dignity lies in our freedom and in our capacity for meaning. When communities are built on sexual identity rather than on faith, they risk becoming therapeutic spaces disguised as Church communities — seeking comfort more than conversion, recognition rather than redemption.
In truth, that recognition never comes. The deliberate decision to avoid using the term LGBTQ+ is proof that the institution seeks to avoid scandal, mindful of complaints from those Catholics who identify as traditionalists or fundamentalists. The result is a compromise meant to appease everyone while forming no one. The Church is called to teach, evangelize, and discern, not to conform silently to the world’s categories.
No surprise, then, that these ideologies are promoted by individuals who long hailed Pope Francis as a validation of their positions. But that was an illusion. The same Pope, both in private and public remarks, has reportedly used the word “faggots”, applying it casually not only to perceived homosexuals but also to suspicious traditionalists. A choice of words that reveals not pastoral charity, but superficiality and contempt.
“Identity-based” communities: what foundation?
In recent years, with the approval of an Italian bishop, a lay group has emerged presenting itself as a religious community, donning quasi-monastic attire and centering itself around a little-known devotion to the Sacred Heart, invoking obscure saints whose names are then used to justify whatever message the group wishes to project — often arbitrarily and out of context.
But what is the common denominator of these communities? Not a rule of life, not a charism, not a mission grounded in Church tradition. Merely sexual orientation and stories of rejection from seminaries or religious houses. Is that enough to create a Christian community? Scripture and Tradition speak of vocations, not sexual identities. The Lord calls Simon, not “the heterosexual.” He calls Mary Magdalene, not “the woman with a past.” He calls by name — always.
Zygmunt Bauman, the sociologist, described ours as a “liquid society”, where identities are fragile and constantly shifting. That fragility often seeks refuge in flags, movements, and labels. But faith cannot become a coping mechanism for social identity crises. It is meant to reveal our true identity — the one received at Baptism. The frantic quest for a habit, a collar, a visible badge of belonging, often exposes a deep identity insecurity. It’s not about a vocation, but about the need for validation.
The true divide: not sexual, but sacramental
The real line the Church draws is not between gay and straight, but between the baptized and unbaptized, between those who seek to follow Christ and those who do not. This is not about exclusion — it’s about seeing each human being not through the lens of identity politics, but through the eyes of God. As Benedict XVI wrote in Jesus of Nazareth: “God doesn’t see us as sociological categories, but as His children. He calls each of us by name.” That’s the Christian horizon: not a parade of acronyms, but a communion of saints, united by diverse vocations and a single root — the Son.
Conclusion: beyond the acronym, toward the person
Now more than ever, in a world that seeks to label us in order to control and predict us, the Church must resist the temptation of identity simplification. We do not stand before God as acronyms, but with our hearts. The Christian vocation is not reserved for those who identify with a label, but for every man and woman who desires to follow the Lord. That, simply, is the Church. No adjectives. No flags. Just persons. Just names. Just children.
T.B.
Silere non possum