Mourning a transgender activist in a cathedral that once sparked protests

The pews of St. Patrick's Cathedral were packed Thursday for an event with no likely precedent in Catholic history: the funeral of Cecilia Gentili, a transgender activist and actress, former sex worker and self-proclaimed atheist whose memorial served as both a celebration of her life and an exuberant piece of political theater.

More than a thousand mourners, several hundred of whom were transgender, arrived in daring outfits: glittery miniskirts and halter tops, fishnet stockings, lavish fur stoles and at least one boa sewn from $100 bills. Mass cards and a photo at the altar showed a halo of Ms. Gentili surrounded by the Spanish words for “transvestite,” “whore,” “blessed” and “mother” above the text of Psalm 25.

That St. Patrick's Cathedral would host the funeral of a high-profile transgender activist, known for her advocacy for sex workers, transgender people and people living with HIV, might come as a surprise to some.

Not much more than a generation ago, at the height of the AIDS crisis, the cathedral was a flashpoint in conflict between gay activists and the Catholic Church, whose opposition to homosexuality and condom use enraged the community. The towering neo-Gothic building became the site of headline-making protests, with activists chaining themselves to the pews and lying in the aisles.

The church has softened its tone on these issues in recent years, and the current Cardinal of New York, Timothy Dolan, has said the church should be more welcoming of homosexuals. Joseph Zwilling, a spokesman for the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of New York, did not respond to questions about whether the church was aware of Ms. Gentili's background when it agreed to host her funeral.

On Wednesday, he said that “when a request comes in for a funeral of a Catholic, the cathedral does its best to accommodate it.”

New York City is home to about a dozen gay-friendly Catholic parishes, but St. Patrick's Cathedral, the seat of the archdiocese, is not one of them.

Ceyenne Doroshow, who organized the funeral, said friends of Ms Gentili – who died on February 6 at the age of 52 – wanted the service to take place at St Patrick's because “it is an icon, just like them.” But she added that she had not mentioned that Ms. Gentili was transgender when she made plans for the church. “I kind of hid it,” she said.

Ms. Gentili's death came at a politically charged time for transgender people, as states across the country restrict access to health care and public accommodations. Religious groups have played an active role in these efforts, but at the same time Pope Francis has taken steps toward inclusivity, saying last year that transgender people can be baptized, serve as godparents and be witnesses at church weddings.

Mr Zwilling said he did not know whether Ms Gentili had attended Mass at the cathedral or whether other transgender people had had their funerals there. But he said that “a funeral is one of the corporal works of mercy,” part of Catholic teaching the church has described as “a model for how we should treat all others, as if they were Christ in disguise.”

The priest's comments did not address the specifics of Ms. Gentili's life. As the service began, the priest, the Rev. Edward Dougherty, said this was the largest crowd he had seen since Easter Sunday. That comment drew the first of several rounds of cheers, chants and standing ovations.

At one point, a friend of Ms. Gentili took up the lectern to pray for access to gender-affirming health care. At another point, a mourner put a priest on stage singing “Ave Maria,” and changed the lyrics to “Ave Cecilia.” She then danced down the aisles as red scarves spun around her.

Later in the day, several people who attended a mass at the cathedral said they were glad Ms. Gentili's funeral had been organized there.

Carlos Nunez, 43, who lives in Manhattan and works in customer service, said he thought the funeral was proper.

“Why not?” He said as he left the cathedral. “Everyone has the right to come to church. Everyone is a child of God.”

Michael Minogue, 67, said he had reconsidered some of his own views after a friend died of Aids in the 1980s. He said it seemed goodwill to him – both on the part of the church and the mourners – that Mrs Gentili had her funeral in the cathedral.

“It means a little more tolerance on both sides,” he said.

Ms. Gentili was an atheist, but her one-woman Off Broadway show: 'Red ink”, explored her encounters with the divine in unexpected places. In a interview last fall, she said that as a transgender person she had “never had the opportunity to experience a faith that fully embraced me,” but had recently started attending services at several churches again.

The Rev. James Martin, a well-known Jesuit writer who advocates a more inclusive approach to the church, said it was “wonderful” that St. Patrick's had agreed to hold Ms. Gentili's funeral.

“Celebrating the funeral Mass of a transgender woman at St. Patrick's is a powerful reminder, during Lent, that LGBTQ people are as much a part of the Church as anyone else,” he said. “I wonder if this would have happened a generation ago.”

At the time, the city's AIDS crisis had brought the church's fraught relations with the city's gay and transgender community to a new low.

In the late 1980s, Cardinal John O'Connor, the archdiocese's leader, banned a gay Catholic group from meeting at their old church, saying AIDS was spread by “sexual deviance or drug abuse.” He also said the advice to use condoms to stop the spread of the disease was based on “lies.”

In 1989, more than 4,000 people protested outside St. Patrick's, and demonstrators chanted and chained themselves to the pews inside. Police arrested 111 people during the protest touchstone in the city's gay history.

Organizers of Ms Gentili's funeral said they hoped it would go down in history as an equally important moment for the community. And as pallbearers walked Mrs. Gentili's coffin back down the aisle at the end of the service, chants once again echoed through the nave of St. Patrick's Cathedral.

“Cecilia! Cecilia! Cecilia!”

Nate Schweber reporting contributed.