faith! - José Cotto
As a native Puerto Rican from a large Catholic brood, Jose Cotto had no idea his family was poor. Jose was surrounded by four younger siblings and devoted parents who loved him. He had a roof over his head, and a church that gave meaning to their lives. “I had a glorious childhood. I was super happy, super loved,” Jose said. “I had my brothers and sisters right along with me on that ride.” The family was almost always at the Roman Catholic Apostolic Church that was located two blocks away from their home, a modest dwelling Jose’s parents built little by little by themselves.
“I have learned afterwards that there were days when, if there was no food in the church pantry, we would not have eaten,” Jose said.
The church that had provided so much childhood shelter, however, didn’t do the same in adulthood, though it took Jose a long time to understand this. He spent many years working around one reality about his life: he is a gay man who loves the church and yearns for full inclusion in it.
Jose didn’t fully come to this understanding until after graduating from college and law school, a circuitous journey that took him from Puerto Rico to the U.S. Army to Rutgers University and back home to Puerto Rico. When he was attending Rutgers, Jose also was serving as a chaplain’s assistant in the U.S. Army at Fort Monmouth, N.J., a 64-mile round trip by train from the base to Rutgers and back again. Jose would work from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. at Fort Monmouth and then take the train to Rutgers, arriving for evening classes at 7 p.m. He took two classes back-to-back from 7 to 11 p.m., the return train to the base by 1 a.m. and up for work by 5 a.m.
At that age, “you know, you are invincible,” he says, describing how he kept up the pace for two years. “Now, I’m in bed by 9:30.”
Faith revisited
After graduation from Rutgers and completing what would be his first time stint in the Army, Jose returned to Puerto Rico to work in a hospital, handling Medicaid and Medicare compliance. Due to the work’s legal nature, he spent a lot of time with the hospital’s lawyers and decided law school would be a good idea. The Catholic University of Rome had a satellite campus with a law school 30 minutes away, so soon Jose was back on the night school circuit, working by day and studying by night.
After completing law school, he did grant work related to Homeland Security in response to 9/11. When that grant dried up four years later, and because Jose had not taken the BAR, he found himself out of work with few options. He rejoined the Army and soon was deploying to Fallujah after the U.S. invasion of Iraq.
The experience profoundly changed Jose and when his tour of duty ended, he was 40 years old, questioning the meaning of his life and the direction he wanted it to take. He also knew the faith aspect of his life was profound and needed to be addressed. While in Iraq, he had observed how much influence religion can have over a person’s life.
“Faith is like love, a conscious decision. You make a commitment to believe, to love,” he said. “I began to analyze my beliefs from a different perspective.” Soon he was totally re-immersed in the Catholic Church.
“I began to believe and love God just like a child does” but with the awareness of an adult. When he explained to his religious leaders that he was attracted to men, he was told that the only way to maintain his communion with the church “was to remain single forever and refrain from any friendships that the church deemed as unhealthy.” Living into that requirement proved to be “a very, very lonely life.” He pondered entering a monastery, but decided that would not work either. He tried staying in the church, alone.
About this time, Jose arrived at Fort Jackson and met Jeffry Caswell through an online dating service. After their first date, Jose walked away thinking their ideas about faith were so different there was no way the two men could be compatible. Jeffry spoke of a loving God who accepted him for who he was, a God who did not require a church in order for him to have faith.
“Jeffry was telling me that God is many things, not necessarily a church,” he said. “To me, that was, ‘How dare you have such a view of religion?’”Jeffry’s religious view was personal. Jose’s had always been structured within the confines of a hierarchical church. “That was the end of that date,” Jose said.
A window opens
Still, he and Jeffry remained in friendly contact from time to time. When Jose was about to deploy to Qatar, Jeffry mentioned a church he had found. “He said it was welcoming and he found so many interesting and smart people at this church. And he thought if I started to go to this church, I could expand my vision of church as a community of people,” Jose said.
That church, that place of community, was St. Martin’s.
Upon returning from Qatar, Jose decided to see what Jeffry had been talking about. “I gave St. Martin’s a try, and it was – you know – like somebody opened a window and let the air in. You know when you are driving and your favorite song comes on? That is how St. Martin’s felt to me.” Jose knew he wanted to return.
Jose, who is now engaged to Jeffry, describes his experience here with immense gratitude, and with a slight pause. “I am grateful for the understanding of what a non-traditional family is, but I want any who may not yet be there, I want them to know that I respect that,” he said. To have a place to worship where both journeys can be accepted is an immense gift, he said. “All I know is that I am there. I am welcomed. I am loved. I feel an obligation to be the same way back,” he said.
Cotto considers himself as rich today as he felt growing up in the embrace of his family and childhood church. And while he certainly has more financial security today than he did as a little boy, and large work responsibilities that feed his ego, his richness is again rooted in having a spiritual home. And this time, that home allows him to be completely who he is.
Jose Cotto, right, his and fiance Jeffry have been members of St. Martin’s since 2019 and 2018, respectively.
