Rite and Reason:As Dublin's Gay Pride Festival gets into its stride, Patsy McGarryreflects on those - such as Ian Paisley jnr - who are repelled by homosexuality
Ian Paisley jnr's remark recently that he was "pretty repulsed" by homosexuality brought me back to a time when I felt similarly about all sex. I was eight. As usual, it was Frankie Byrne's fault. Or "that brat Frankie Byrne" (not his real name), as my mother used say. He was always a step ahead of the rest of us.
It was he who told me about sex. I was disgusted but not surprised. I mean, just days beforehand he told me he had seen our teacher, Mr Howard, kiss Ms O'Connell, who taught the babies.
As if Mr Howard would do such a sissy thing.
So when Frankie told me where babies came from, I didn't believe him then either. As if people would do such a filthy thing.
Especially people like our neighbours, the Whodunit-Oftens. They had nine children and Mr Whodunit-Often (not his real name) used to say to my father: "We'll have a county team yet." My father would reply: "You're an awful man, Jack." And my mother would say to Mrs Whodunit-Often: "God help you, Beatrice."
It was clear as day to me why they had so many babies. They had a huge cabbage garden, which brought its own problems.
It had to be a big garden to feed all their children, but it also meant, logically, that they would keep finding more babies under the heads of cabbage.
They were really nice people and I got sweets or money every time I was in that house. And my mother used to say: "There's something special about people with two names."
We had a far smaller cabbage garden, which was why there were only three of us.
I didn't believe Frankie either when he said pups were made like that, too. Our Ranger only played with other dogs. Though he could be rough sometimes.
Once, when he jumped on Mitchells' Shep, I asked my mother why he kept doing that. She shouted at me and told me: "Go out and play." And I hadn't done a thing. Honest!
But my repulsion at sex did not last, which is why I feel there is hope for Ian Paisley jnr. In fact, as I entered my teens, I became more and more attracted to sex.
The very idea of it, and it was chiefly an abstract experience, dominated my mind so much that by my mid-teens, when I discovered reincarnation, I researched it in depth, hoping to find out how I might come back as a rabbit.
Soon, as with all matters of belief, I began to realise that reincarnation, too, was debatable.
But I was not put off. Being idealistic, I considered devoting my entire life to sex, whatever the sacrifices involved. Common sense dictated otherwise, though.
Or Roscommon sense in my case. (A better brand of the same thing).
This deep regard continued. It was similar to what other young men felt for sport, music or politics. So much so that had anyone asked me then what I did for sex, I would have replied, hand on heart: "Not nearly as much as it does for me!"
Still, my unspoken slogan became: "Ask not what sex can do for you, but what you can do for sex."
In all of this I see great hope for Ian Paisley jnr, and others. If total repulsion, as with me, can give way to its complete opposite, then surely something similar could happen for them.
And they are repulsed by just one form of sex.
By "they" I mean those others who suffer similar selective repulsion, as do some in the churches, in Islam, Judaism and in other religions.
Indeed, a remarkable feature of the churches over recent years has been their periodic paroxysms over homosexuality in particular. The Anglican Communion is on the verge of schism over it.
At the Presbyterian General Assembly in Belfast last week, it was described in terms which, while biblical, were hardly Christian in sentiment.
In the Catholic Church, as we know, there is no sex. But it did not stop Pope Benedict from describing homosexuality as "intrinsically immoral" and "objectively disordered" in 1986.
Again and again it has been fascinating to observe earnest clergy wrestling with their consciences and the Bible on this issue, only to see their prejudices win out in the end. So to speak.
This fascination has been compounded by the utter indifference of society to such muscular debate on something it has long since dealt with and moved on from.
Young people, if at all interested, are bewildered that ageing adults devote such amounts of time, energy and passion to something that they (the young) see is as relevant to their lives as witches or the number of angels you can fit on a pin.
They would feel similarly about Ian Paisley jnr's repulsions.
He might reflect on a comment by his father in a recent Sunday Tribune interview.
Asked how he would respond if a child of his had been gay, Ian Paisley snr said: "A child like that needs more love and affection, not less."
Ian Paisley jnr (and others) might consider growing up.
Patsy McGarry is Religious Affairs Correspondent of The Irish Times