Why can't I be gay and religious?

"A swami, who I was very fond of, told me it was harder for homosexuals to enter the gates of heaven.
“I replied, ‘especially if you keep them shut’.”
- Boy George

I spent the last 15 years of my life attached to a religious sect. So naturally, when I took up an intercultural studies module at university, I proposed to study my temple.

Being brought up as a Hare Krishna devotee has always proven to be a challenge. I hoped to show my team that being a “modern-day monk” was a perfectly normal thing to do.

Most of the Hare Krishna followers subscribe to a specific branch of Hinduism that originates from traditional India. Hare Krishnas are strict vegetarians, celibates, monotheists, and an enthusiastic lot of boys and girls.

The "Hare Krishna" name comes from a prayer that the devotees hold dear, which can usually be heard during the bhajans - carols - they hold on the streets and at public communions they host at their centres.

However, before entering the temple I took my coursemates aside and cautioned them, knowing that there were some devotees there who have a different sense of how our religion works.

"You might run into some... 'funny people', but don't take them seriously. They don't necessarily reflect all of our movement's visions and teachings," I explained, taking care to carefully choose my words.

I had been friends with my coursemates for over two years now, so I knew the comical “O”s they made with their mouths after I shared this bit of news with them were genuine.

"They're not homophobic, are they?" one friend asked.

As I expected, they got my drift.

Divided opinions

Like some groups, the Hare Krishnas are vague about their stance on homosexuality and have not formally condoned nor accepted lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (LGBT) members with open arms.

From experience, however, there definitely is a divided stand in the group, both locally and internationally, on whether homosexuality should be embraced or not.

The general consensus is that LGBT members are unwilling to subscribe to one of the teachings the Hare Krishnas strictly follow: sex is a big no-no unless it's for having children.

Some Hare Krishna centres welcome the LGBT community with open arms, while some maintain that LGBT members should have restrictions imposed upon them that their heterosexual counterparts follow, including celibacy and having only licit sexual relations.

"Although there are many who seek refuge in our teachings, and come to our temple, I know a few LGBTs who feel like they are looked at like pieces of meat, and judged, just because they are perceived as being sex maniacs," I explained.

Backed with arguments found in scripture, some say that all sexual attraction should be shunned if it has nothing to do with God.

The prescription for celibacy forms the basis of spirituality, as our scriptures dictate, but many practising LGBT members leave “the road less travelled” after being shunned simply for being gay.

And as I told my coursemates, some of the devotees also feel "the gays can't keep it in their pants".

"But even if some of our temples around the world close an eye and welcome gays and lesbians, they don't recognise that they have different problems," I explained, hoping they understood my concerns.

Time was running out; our interviewees were waiting for us. We rushed into the temple compound, with our list of questions now at the forefront of our minds.

Doing the 'wrong' thing

An hour later, I introduced my friends to my temple commander. We had finished our first interview, and he would be our second and last subject for the day.

We had a fairly well-rounded discussion that touched on many aspects of the temple, such as its operations, cultural and religious background.

I looked at my friends. They made signs to let me know it was time to go.

"So what about the LGBT community," I chipped in suddenly, breaking the temple commander's line of thought. "Are they allowed to join and be part of this temple?"

He was confused. He didn't seem to know what the acronym stood for. 

But as soon as I explained what it meant, he smiled, understanding what I was talking about. 

"Ah," he chuckled, "that is their nature. However you try to change them, they will never change. Who can you blame?" 

I smiled at this, proud of his somewhat progressive stand. But then he continued speaking.

"Basically, in the Hare Krishna movement, we don't encourage this, because it's not our culture. It doesn't leave a good impression in society," he said.

"It's the modern civilisation; people want to try everything. Being LGBT has become very prominent now, which we can't help.

“But as far as the spiritual movement goes, we try not to..." he said, ending his thoughts in mid-sentence. 

I was flabbergasted. 

"So let's say a gay person wants to join, and he wants to be celibate. Let's say he is in a sexless relationship. Will the temple discriminate against him?" I asked, my temper rising. 

"No, anybody can practise," he reassured us. "We don't restrict that. But so long as you try to convince, try to make things worse for others, then, of course, we impose some restrictions. 

"Who knows, in time he may change, you never know. He may think 'Oh, I have done something wrong’.”

Why the extra restrictions?

Although he would later reiterate that his temple has no problem with practising LGBT devotees being a part of the temple’s community, the problem herein lies with the logic of his argument. 

Often in religious groups, we put down our guards and confide in others, to be able to grow as a person.

With all of our problems and struggles put out for the world to see, it is not right to project ideas, such as hoping gays and lesbians will “change” in time, or “converting” someone who is gay, especially to LGBT members of the group who have opened up to their fellow religious counterparts.

Say if one was convinced he wasn't gay, although he very much was. What psychological dilemmas would this person experience in the long run?

Would he be more conflicted than ever? Or perhaps he would marry a heterosexual, just to “fit in” and be accepted into the group.

One has to ask, won't such behaviour hurt members of the LGBT community in the long run? And if so, why aren't we speaking out against it?

But putting these aside, I raise this question: if there are people who are genuinely willing to adopt the same teachings their heterosexual counterparts follow, why the added restrictions, like what my temple commander dictated?

A recent trend towards an increase in free thought and a decrease in religiousness seems to be prevalent among youths.

Based on my own observations, there is also more prejudice towards practitioners of religion, and the Hare Krishnas are no exception. 

Rather than adding to the trend, instead of chasing people away and making them feel unwanted, why not accept and forgive? 

The scenario seems unlikely for now. Perhaps it is better for members of the LGBT community to seek divine intervention elsewhere.

I know I won't be recommending them to our temple's doorsteps anytime soon.

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VINODH PILLAI is a communications major who visits the Malaysiakini office more frequently than his Hare Krishna temple. He hopes religion can still be a compass for those seeking direction, even if they themselves are not straight.  - Mkini