Feeling the Absence of God: A Good Friday Sermon

 Maybe it's the difficulty of the times we're living in and just the constant sense of doom and gloom that hangs over the nation that I found myself really struggling to write a sermon for Good Friday. 

I mean, it's a day that commemorates the brutal killing of Jesus by the state. And we've witnessed in this country repeated killings...both through numerous executions carried out in Florida...and the extrajudicial taking of lives by ICE in major U.S. cities. Maybe it just all felt too raw and real for me to think through the Gospel of John's telling of the Passion to want to preach about it.

And so I turned to the Psalm...number 22..."My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?"

Because that's where I am at on so many days right now.

Text: Psalm 22, John 18:1-19:42

+++

“My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

Those must be some of the loneliest words in all of Scripture.

Psalm 22 captures the lament of those who have been on the receiving end of human cruelty.

Each verse describing that sense of what it feels like to be innocent…and yet treated with disrespect and derision.

In other Gospel passages about the crucifixion….that first verse of the psalm are the only words we hear Jesus utter from the cross.

And we can imagine why this particular psalm…believed to be written by King David…would have been on Jesus’ mind at that moment.

Because…at that hour… the crucified Jesus was truly powerless.

He was vulnerable.

And he was scared.

He’s just like us.

It would be nice to think that…as Christians and people who believe in God… we pray all the time…and regularly stay in conversation with the Holy One.

But…at least it’s been in my experience…the times when we are the most likely to turn to God in prayer is when we’re in trouble.

We might put up those prayers like Anne Lamott: a very simple Help! Help! Help!

Get me out of this situation!

And when we’re in that place…of deep worry and fear…the worst feeling is to call out our prayer…and only hear crickets in return.

It’s one thing to feel abandoned by friends…and another when it’s your family.

But to feel the absence of God….that’s harsh.

The psalmist captures that depth of the hurt we feel when it seems God is silent:

“I am poured out like water;

All my bones are out of joint;

My heart within my breast is melting wax”? (14)

While John’s Gospel doesn’t have Jesus repeating that opening line of the psalm while he’s on the cross…the evangelist does reference it when talking about those who are gloating…and taking pleasure in his pain.

The indifference and lack of empathy from those inflicting the torture makes the point about the inhumanity that the psalmist observes.

All this tracks with the way that tyrants and bullies have always behaved…especially when challenged.

And certainly Jesus posed a threat to the Roman Empire.

He has been flipping over tables in the marketplace of the Temple and exposing the whole system as corrupt and oppressive.

He’s been chastised for healing sick people…giving them the agency to walk…and to see…and leading them toward the God of Love.

He conversed with a Samaritan woman…and treated her with the dignity denied to her by others…breaking down the rift between cultures.

And when Pontius Pilate…an agent of the state known for his ruthlessness… demanded to know “What is truth?” Jesus didn’t dignify the question of his bully with an answer.

Because Jesus wouldn’t obey…because he refused to bend the knee…and kept encouraging others to see in themselves their worth in the eyes of God…he was put to death.

This pattern has been repeated throughout history.

In our own country…the black Christian theologian James Cone has challenged us to see in the cross the lynching tree…and to accept that Jesus was the first victim of such brutal hatred.

Cone sees in Jesus the body of victims of racism…the people killed for simply existing in black skin and having the audacity to think that they could live their lives in peace alongside white people.

Cone extends this out to all those who are the marginalized “others” mocked…scorned…and dehumanized by the dominant culture.

And there’s been plenty of that going around lately.

Neighbors turning on neighbors….and arrests of innocent people for the crime of being black or brown and speaking another language.

The memes passed around on social media laughing at the idea of sending people to the swampy Everglades to be alligator food.

There’s no escaping the truth of what Good Friday and the cross stood for then…and now.

It is a collision between those who choose force as a means to threaten and dominate others…acting as “the packs of dogs” who encircle those they see as “weak”…and the ones who choose power with others…non-violence… and don’t provide answers to empty questions.

Which is why it makes sense that some of our Gospel writers have Jesus turning to Psalm 22 in this critical moment at the end of his earthly life.

And we can imagine Jesus praying through the whole thing as he is dying.

Because while the psalm captures all that is wrong with what is happening in the moment…and expresses lament for the inhumanity of the situation he’s in…it also has language that provides a source of comfort and hope…that God will hear his cry and will meet him in this hour of need.

This is why when people ask me what book of the Bible I would recommend they read…I always cite the Book of Psalms.

Psalm 22 not only expresses the grief and the fear of the abyss…it’s also a life ring of promise in what is a hopeless situation…and trusts in a God who will respond to the brokenhearted.  Hear these words:

“Praise the Lord, you that fear him”

“I will perform my vows in the presence of those who worship him”

I can even think that Jesus clung to the psalmist echoing the sentiments that his mother declared to Elizabeth during her pregnancy:

“God does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty,…but when they cry to him, he hears them. The poor shall eat and be satisfied, and those who seek the Lord shall praise him.”

The psalmist names our pains…and doubts…and yet keeps turning back to God…believing that despite it all…God is hearing our pleas.

Did God abandon Jesus on the cross?

No…

God was there throughout…in the same way that God is with us…in us…and around us in our moments of distress as well as our joys.

Through Jesus…God has moved closer to our existence…and our struggles against the most powerful forces that try to keep us down.

Through our faith and trust in God…we can survive and weather the storms that come at us…even in these most trying times.

One day…we too…like the psalmist…will be able to speak confidently to the saving deeds that God has done.

And we will be able to declare that our times of distress are finished.

In the name of Our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me..." A Funeral Sermon for Jim Crochet

It is hard to lose a loved one. It is even harder when their death was apparently preventable, and had been hastened by mistakes made during a surgery. That seems to be the case with Harold James "Jim" Crochet, the husband of my friend, Craig, and a former long-term care ombudsman for the state of Florida. His death was tragic, and happened in the home. He literally passed away in Craig's arms. 

I reached out to my friend when he posted his agony on Facebook. Craig immediately asked if I would serve as the celebrant at Jim's funeral, whenever it would happen. And I said it would be my honor.

Within about 24 hours, I was getting noticed that the funeral would be happening on Sunday, September 29th at St. John's Episcopal Church in Tallahassee. My head was spinning. At that time, we were less than two weeks out from this announced date and I hadn't had a chance to sit down with Craig or Jim's brother, Glen. 

Hurricane Helene interrupted the plan. Dignitaries invited to be on hand for this man who had been a champion of LGBT+ seniors needed to get it on their calendars. And St. John's, which is a beautiful, stately cathedral looking church, had its own funerals and several weddings that had already been taken for any weekend dates. We finally settled on October 15th at 3pm.

And I finally had a chance to sit with Craig and Glen and join with them in their place of grief and mourning, anger and frustration, and I got to learn more about this man who I had only had the pleasure of meeting once at Craig's retirement party from the Florida Supreme Court. I wish I had gotten to know him better.

But I took what I had gathered...prayed...and gave back to a congregation of mostly so-called "unchurched" queers... a picture of Jim as more than just their friend and partner, but an advocate who embodied all the qualities of a good and faithful servant of God.

See what you think.

Texts: Isaiah 61: 1-3, Psalm 23, John 14:1-6

+++

Friends…let us pray: may the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O God our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

Many thanks to all of you for being here for Craig and for Glenn…and thank you to Jon, Rep. Tant, and Nadine for your words and offering some more context for Jim’s life…his purpose…and helping Craig tell the story of his beloved partner and the pain surrounding the circumstances of his death. There are no words to soften the hard realities.

The prophet Isaiah exclaims:

“The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

because the Lord has anointed me,

he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,

to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives

and release to the prisoners…”

For those who heard those words many centuries ago…this was some good news.

This was said to a people who were feeling crushed…and brokenhearted and lonely after being conquered and carted away by a hostile empire.

Now the prophet Isaiah was proclaiming their freedom.

They could go back to their homeland and breathe easy again.

These words are ones that Jesus read aloud in the temple in Luke’s Gospel.

This was the passage that Jesus read from the scroll as he was proclaiming his purpose and reason for being.

They expressed the meaning of his earthly ministry…a ministry of freedom for those who were oppressed…and kindness to those who desperately needed someone to show them love.

These are the words that ring true for every person who makes that bold commitment to making their life about serving others.

Those guardian angels on earth who are the friends to the friendless.

The people who have that spirit within them that sharpens their vision, so they see those who others so easily ignore.

The ones who advocate for the least…the lowest… and those getting lost by the system.

These words paint a picture of the child protection investigator…and the commitment and attention needed to be the long-term care ombudsmen in a state where the most vulnerable require an advocate grounded in loving kindness.

These are words that are befitting of Jim Crochet.

Truly the spirit of the Lord was upon Jim…to live out a life of service rooted in Love.

A love that was strengthened and sustained in a partnership with Craig…and informed from a life of growing up in a military family…coming out of the bayous of Louisiana.

It’s our life experiences that inform how we live and move and have our being.

And the spirit of God implanted in Jim from his experiences gave him a deep belief in justice.

An abiding and unwavering sense that he could do his part to bring about a more just outcome for those who have been pushed down… and beaten up by the world.  

Certainly Jim…and those of us in the LGBTQ community in Florida…know that it takes persistence and patience…and a whole lot of strength to stand up to the bullies and tyrants.

It also takes a heart that has been broken…and knows the sting of rejection… to have the compassionate care to be a loving and loyal advocate.

Standing on the side of the powerless…going to the mat for someone’s grandmother…parent…or spouse who is getting ignored and abused in a facility…isn’t the work that gains a whole lot of fame and fortune.

But for those who hear those words of Isaiah…who feel that spirit of God saying: release the captives…free the oppressed…comfort the brokenhearted….

Those Jims of the world aren’t in this work for kudos and big bucks.

They do it because it is right.

And they care to make this world a better place.

When Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life” he was talking about the peacemakers and the justice seekers such as Jim.

He was telling his disciples…and by extension…telling all of us…that the way…the truth…and the life is bound up in the commandment to love one another… and do right by each other.

The way for us to live into that spirit of Isaiah’s prophetic proclamation is to remember the lessons seen through Jim’s life.

The life of a true servant…a dedicated brother and loving partner…and a friend and advocate to those who needed someone who would fight for their rights and their dignity.

Jim left us too soon…that’s true.

His death hurts all of us who remember his warmth that radiated through his entire being.

No one feels that loss heavier than those closest to him: Craig and Glenn.

You two have been plunged into that valley of the shadow of death that psalmist so aptly describes.

Grief does that. The shadows in that valley are long.

And the tears you shed are the rains that feed the river that runs through that valley.

Your tears join with those of so many who know and have experienced a profound loss and untimely end to a loved one’s life. 

That valley walk hasn’t gotten any easier for any of us.

But I came across something recently in the prayers of our Jewish siblings.

It was in their Yizkor service as part of their prayers on Yom Kippur…the day of atonement.

And it made a very astute and important observation about the promises made and kept in Psalm 23.

The psalmist doesn’t say that evil will end…or that suffering and pain will be eradicated.

But the psalm does make one very important promise: You are not alone.

Craig and Glenn: you aren’t on an island and alone in your grief.

Those here present with you today…Jon and Nate…Tip…Allison…Nadine…all of us…everyone here are with you in that valley.

Our presence today is the reminder that you have many who will help you as you navigate this path…and offer a helping hand when you trip over the rocks along this journey.
This is the way…and the truth…and the life of how God works in our realm…through the love we show and share with one another.

Jim is there with you too.

In every memory weaved into that tapestry of your lives together.

From the way his whole face lit up with his smile… to his discerning tastes about what does and does not belong in gumbo.

He may not be here in body…but Jim lives on in your heart…and he’s with you in spirit.

The spirit of the Lord is upon you…and me…and all of us…to remember Jim’s dedication and love…and to be with you…and help you to carry on.

In the name of the one Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

Lambeth Calling*

 *This is not one of my sermons but reflects my response to all-things Anglican. Read on...

One of my favorite hymns in The Hymnal 1982 begins:

Christ is made the sure foundation,

Christ the head and cornerstone,

chosen of the Lord and precious,

binding all the Church in one;

holy Zion’s help forever,

and her confidence alone.

Upon this stanza of Hymn #518, I would hope, I would think, I would pray that all of us who call ourselves followers of Jesus could agree. I would especially think that the bishops gathered from across the Anglican Communion could accept these lyrics and live into this understanding. 

How we get there is not as important as the fact that we do get there and see this as the essential truth from which we can live and move and have our being.

If only this were the only work of the bishops at Lambeth to make Christ and our commitments to walk in the way of Jesus, and love as Jesus taught us to love each other. Maybe we could all get along.

But that is not what is happening. And while I am saddened, I am not surprised.

The last time there was a Lambeth Conference it was 2008. Then Archbishop Rowan Williams invited all the bishops to England… except for one: Bishop Gene Robinson of my home diocese of NH. He was too outwardly and unashamedly gay for this gathering. Bishop Gene went to England and did a bunch of fringe events. But he was not allowed to go to tea with Queen or participate in the Indaba listening sessions because bishops from the Global South would have been uncomfortable with his presence.

So there was listening, and talking, and praying, and sharing about LGBTQ+ Christians, but the one figurehead of LGBTQ+ Christianity was not included in the official conversation.

And while the bishops did their best to keep things controlled, the Holy Spirit continued to blow through the provinces of the Communion, moving and shaking things up. Another attempt to control the Spirit came in the form of the Anglican Covenant, a document that aimed to put into a type of ecclesiastical time-out those Churches which discerned the valuable gifts brought to the Church from the LGBTQ+ community, including supporting our right to be married. The Covenant failed miserably, most notably in the Church of England where it had originated with Archbishop Williams. Shortly thereafter, the Archbishop announced he was going back to what he was better at: being a theological scholar.

In the meantime, over the past decade, The Episcopal Church in this country, the Canadian Anglican Church, Scotland, Wales and a myriad of other Churches in the Anglican Communion had all arrived at a place of seeing that LGBTQ+ people could form loving, covenantal relationships. We could preach the Gospel. We did belong in the church and fighting over such matters was a distraction from the main point: to love and serve God and one another.

By this time, we had already had our nasty, bitter break ups with those who didn’t accept LGBTQ+ Christians and they had already formed their own cathedrals and Towers of Babel under the “Anglican” Church of North America and GAFCON. ACNA had tried to get The Episcopal Church voted off the Anglican Communion island and had failed. The Lambeth Conference stalled; the GAFCONites held their own rival global meeting in Jerusalem. And then COVID hit, and the Lambeth Conference was forced to delay meeting until this year.

That’s a summation of the past fourteen years of what I call the “Anglican Angst.”  With a new Archbishop, Justin Welby, there would maybe be a chance for the bishops to get back to Christ as the sure foundation and reason for the Church to exist. Groups of bishops have been meeting with each other over Zoom. All seemed to be going well.

Then there was the news that while LGBTQ+ bishops would be allowed to attend Lambeth (yay!) their spouses were explicitly excluded (boo!) Again, this was to accommodate the comfort level of those bishops from the Global South who don’t accept marriage equality. A small step for Lambeth; a trip and fall for humankind, but whatever. 

The decision of many of the Episcopal Church bishops was to go and continue to stand for “all the sacraments for all the baptized.”

But then…as so many of them were boarding airplanes to Europe… a 58-page document dropped from the Archbishop of Canterbury titled “Lambeth Calls.” It covers ten subject areas. The bishops were to read it and be prepared to vote either “Yes” or “Yes, but with more study” to the various “calls.” Under the title “Human Dignity” there were statements condemning colonialism and past imperial actions of the church…and…oh, by the way, “the Anglican Communion is of one mind” that marriage is for a man and a woman and that homosexuality is not compatible with Scripture.

Remember: the bishops are only allowed to say, “Yes” or a “Yes, but.” There is no “No” or “Hell NO!” option.

The language of this proposal comes straight out of a 1998 resolution called Lambeth 1.10. Our Episcopal Church, and others, have rejected this stance and, in fact at our recently concluded General Convention in Baltimore, we have moved decidedly in the direction of full inclusion of LGBTQ+ people in the church. So to suddenly have this dropped on our bishops for a "Yes" or "Yes, but" vote is offensive and wrong.

And the plot thickens: one of the members of the group that helped draft the Human Dignity Lambeth Call is the openly gay and married Bishop Kevin Robertson of Canada. According to a post he put out on Facebook, his study group never discussed Lambeth 1.10 as they crafted that particular call. Imagine the shock and betrayal he must have felt to discover this tucked away on page 31 of a 58-page document.

If the working group of bishops didn’t know it was in there, then who did?

Did someone let Judas into the printing press?

I am a black-shirted priest, not a purple-shirted bishop, serving a small congregation in Southwest Georgia. But unless there is a means for bishops to raise objections and get that language amended out, I would hope our diocesan leaders and Presiding Bishop of The Episcopal Church would consider their peace returned to them, shake the dust of this dirty deed off their feet, and refuse to participate any further in this conference.

Lambeth may have called. But the province they have reached is no longer interested in debating human sexuality.

Live Free, Happy, and Out

 

It has been more than 30 years since I "came out," first to myself, then gradually to my family and friends.  In fact, I think I have been out so long that I'm not sure where the closet is any more. And I smile and celebrate when I see queer folks much younger than me who have no problem being demonstratively queer in ways that I would not and, because of the stigma, could not be when I was their age and struggling with my sexual identity in the 1980s. 

Still, I know that there are places in this country and many around the world where being an L, G, B, T, Q, or any variation on those will lead to ostracism, or even death. So for those of us who can be out, hooray! And keep your light shining for those who still live in the shadows yearning to leave their closets. They need to see you and know that, one day, they can be with you.

A prayer for this National Coming Out Day:

O God of love, we give thanks for our lives, for our loves, for our spirits set free from the bondage of pretending to be someone or something we are not; continue to walk along side us, march with us when we seek justice, cry with us when we face opposition, and keep our hearts rejoicing in the knowledge that we are your beloved queer children, and set us as lights for others still seeking to find their true selves. In your Holy Name we pray. Amen. 

Will This Pride End the Prejudice?

This is an historic weekend for the LGBTQ+ community. President Barack Obama has designated the Stonewall Inn, a once-seedy little gay bar in New York City’s Greenwich Village, into a national monument as we mark the 47^th anniversary of the uprising that started our modern day gay rights movement. Pride parades held across the country and all over the world saw marriage proposals (we hit the one year anniversary of that law in America on Sunday) and joy and presidential candidates marching with us. OK, just one presidential candidate who happens to be a woman.

There are 49 Florida flags, flying for 49 days, to honor the victims of the attack on Pulse nightclub. There is no mention anywhere about the intersection of these being mostly gay, Latinx people.

And there was the recognition that our celebrations are still happening in a world where a person can kill forty-nine people out having fun at a gay nightclub, and elected officials and church leaders struggle mightily with identifying the victims as members of the Latinx LGBTQ community. If it were any other minority group, would there be this reluctance?

These past couple of weeks, I have been fortunate to be immersed in my community of the Mickee Faust Club, a collection of artistic misfits of all kinds who come together to make the smartest and most relevant theater seen on any stage in this country. 

Faustkateers gathering before the start of a performance.

Our “Queer as Faust 9” cabaret couldn’t have come at a more needed time as we honored the dead and wounded by continuing to live out loud and proud and rejecting the political narrative that what happened at Pulse was about terrorism. Instead, we named the oppression we continue to live under in Florida that has been propped up and supported by the very people who stood in front of TV cameras and talked about the “victims” and seeking justice for “the victims” without acknowledging the most important intersection of their victimhood: they were…almost all of them…gay!

The tears are now drying up, and I can feel myself moving into the next level of processing my grief around this hate crime. I admitted to my spiritual director that attempting to keep up with my regular routine of prayer was greatly challenged. Tragedies such as Pulse are so horrid that one really does wonder, “And where were you, God?!”

I have asked this question before, and I’ve often encouraged other people not to be afraid to ask that question because if there’s any entity that can take a painful and agonized and angry cry of “Where are you?!?!” it’s God.

For me, the answer is that God was also being gunned down that night in a hail of bullets.

God was in Brenda Lee Marquez McCool, who put herself in front of her son to protect him and ultimately gave up her life.

God was in the bouncer who rushed people to the staff exit door, saving at least 50 people.

God was in the first responders who both surrounded the club and helped get the wounded to a nearby hospital.

God was in the surgeons, some of whom have had war time experience, who saved the lives of all the wounded.

God has appeared and emerged in many ways in this period. There is “not so religious” way of finding laughter and connections with Faustkateers as we each grappled in our own ways with grief. 

Modern Major General cast from "Queer As Faust 9." 

There is the out pouring of love from people at St. Thomas, a community that has been friendly enough toward me since I’ve been with them, but a few of them have intentionally sought me out the past two Sundays to hug me. And, when I was cyberstalked by an unstable person last week, there was an immediate online uprising of friends who wanted to let me know that they had my back. And one of them, a former newspaper bureau chief, made the observation that it is no longer OK for the straight community to sit on the sidelines and let us queer folk defend ourselves. It is time for them to also call out homophobia when they see it, and not allow bullies to get in a few licks before they step into the ring with us.

But this also goes beyond good feelings and seeing posts online. The deaths of 49 LGBTQ+ people cannot just be about words. There must be action. At all levels and in all corners of the country, in city halls and state houses, and Congressional chambers, and the White House. And—yes—even in the churches, and synagogues, and mosques, and temples, and Wiccan circles.

The gospel lesson in the Monday morning daily office was from Matthew and it was what I’ve been thinking about lately. Jesus, upon arriving in Jerusalem, sees that the Temple has become a center of commerce instead of a place of prayer, and he goes wild, kicking over tables, sending money and doves flying. This is when activist Jesus has had all he can take of how the people have debased the holy, and he displays a righteous rage which upsets the order of the day. And he doesn’t care because the order was out-of-order.

We have been out-of-order when it comes to the LGBTQ+ community. Like all groups that do not fit into the category of “majority,” it’s easy to forget that I can still be fired from a job, or denied housing, or refused services because I am a lesbian. Florida and the nation have refused to pass bills to make us a protected class. Instead, they adopt “religious freedom” laws to give cover to people who want to use their religious beliefs to justify discrimination. Or they pass “bathroom bills” to require transgender and gender-queer people to produce proof of their biological sex in order to use a public restroom. While there have been religious leaders who have spoken out against these laws, there have been many who have insisted they need them. And then they wonder why the LGBTQ+ community might be a little leery of their expressions of thoughts and prayers during a time of tragedy.

If there can be any good out of this horrible event, maybe it will be the work of God to open the hearts and minds of those on their knees in prayer…and soliciting our support this election…to quit being the stumbling blocks to our full humanity and not just tolerate us but recognize and accept us as part of the mosaic of God’s human creation. Pope Francis has called on the Roman Catholic Church to apologize to the LGBTQ+ community for the centuries of mistreatment and seek forgiveness. While that might be great PR for the Pope, I want to see the Roman Catholic Church not only apologize and seek forgiveness; I want it to repent of its attitude toward our community, quit with the fear that seems tied to the rejection of “the flesh” and understand that “the flesh” is the container for “the spirit” while it is here in this realm. Hating on the body seems to be a root cause for the animosity toward LGBTQ+ people. We are so “earthy” because our identity is tied to our sexuality. Has the Church forgotten to teach that our sexual selves are also gifts from God and should be celebrated and treated with honor and glory?

The common theme I have had running in my head for more than a week comes from Psalm 80: “Restore us, O God of hosts; show the light of your countenance and we shall be saved.”

Come, Holy Spirit, come.

The Mighty Force of Love

There's been a lot said this week and a lot shared on social media about the horrible crime at Pulse nightclub in Orlando. Many of us in the LGBTQ+ community have struggled with staying focused at work in between bouts of sobbing and the mental fog that descends when you are in grief. Grief is like that. It suspends all time, manner, and place as it puts you in an other-worldly in-between space of neither here nor there.

I have appreciated the posts where gay people attempt to explain to the straight community why we who are LGBTQ+ feel this tragedy on a personal level. It is a rare person who comes out as gay, lesbian, bi, or transgender who has not been to a gay nightclub and considers such places to be a refuge from a harsh and hating world. Every one of us could see in the faces of the victims our own selves as well as seeing the individual young and joyful eyes of so many Latinx who were embracing life and celebrating Pride Week in America's theme park city. When we expressed "We are Orlando" that's what we meant.

I also have appreciated those expressions from straight friends struggling to find words and ways to express their profound sorrow about this hate crime. For some of them, it has come in the form of wanting to offer prayers, attend the vigils, give free hugs. For others it has been to express their outrage that we've had another mass shooting in America and the demand that we not ignore the carnage or worry that "now is not the time" to talk about the growing problem of gun violence. At long last, some of my friends who are gun enthusiasts are now raising the same questions I've had forever about the wide and easy availability of certain weapons and the lobby that blocks any study of gun violence from happening. I see in these responses that effort to channel into action feelings of "What can I do?" To not feel helpless in a helpless situation.

Still, there have been those whose response to the terribleness of this shooting was to do one of two other things: attempt to turn away from the real fact that this was a targeted killing of LGBTQ+ people of color and make it about terrorism (a claim that has now been refuted by our own intelligence sources) and to otherwise not speak the name of "gay" or "queer" or "LGBTQ+" but generically refer to the 49 dead as "victims" or "humans." The other was to want to do what I call "turning the spotlight" on themselves by insisting that (fill-in-the-name) minority group has, in fact, been killed in greater numbers than what happened at Pulse in one night, as if there was something to be gained in taking the prize for "worst mass shooting ever."

For me, the biggest hurt has been in how the church and Christians specifically have responded. A hate-filled pastor in California puts up a video saying that more of us should have died. That he claims the mantle of Christ is offensive to me. And then why anyone who professes a belief in Jesus Christ would feel the need to share videos or reports about these anti-gay remarks of an off-the-wall pastor was mind-boggling. Atheists, naturally, would share such a thing so as to highlight the hypocrites in their contention that all Christians are hypocrites.

In response to those irresponsible and hateful words, I shared this Facebook video by Fr. Jim Martin, a Jesuit Roman Catholic priest to show that face of Christianity that is not homophobic. His words are of far greater value, in my opinion, and deserve to be shared. Because the true test of one's faithfulness to Christ is the ability to enter into the pain and suffering of the injured, the despondent, the grieving and the hurting person without condition and without the need to shift the spotlight onto one's self or to keep one's self aloof and apart. The words of Jesus from the Gospel of Matthew, "Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest," is the type of invitation that many of us would be happy to accept from those who profess to be followers of Christ. Shoulder this grief with us, give us the space to feel and breathe again. And above all else, refute the attempts to whitewash this tragedy by acknowledging this  was about hatred of gay people. Just like the shooting at this time last year inside Mother Emmanuel AME Church in Charleston was about the calculated killing of black people. It's all about hate and fear of those painted by some politicians and church leaders as "others."

I am more convinced than ever that the reason the LGBTQ+ population was a target in this crime and why we are trotted out every two-to-four years to be vilified and made into demons in the political spectrum is because we are a community built on love.

Because we love we are hated and feared.

Because we love those who dwell in darkness are always attempting to douse our light.

Because we love the peddlers of destruction and death project their own brokenness unto us and then scream, "A-ha!"

Jesus, who was the queerest person in every sense of the word in the whole Bible in my opinion, knows the odds that the LGBTQ+ community faces because he, too, was killed by a world that was too scared and threatened to accept that he loved and wanted everyone to love. Obviously, the world hasn't changed that much. And yet, it is the Christian narrative of Jesus' resurrection and his power to overcome death that serves as a source of strength for me in my commitment and belief that Love is going to win. Always. Even when it suffers punches and body blows, it will prevail.

Time to commit to love more deeply and strongly than ever before.

Love Boldy, Freely, Queerly

 I participated this evening in a prayer vigil at First Presbyterian which was pulled together by various LGBTQ+ groups. I spoke on behalf of both PFLAG and the Mickee Faust Club. The PFLAG comments were a last minute extemporary explanation about who the group is, how it functions, and that it actually meets at First Pres in the Westminster Room. And then, I turned to talking about the meaning of the Mickee Faust Club:

The Mickee Faust Club is known for making people laugh. But it is very hard to find humor at a time when we are hurting, and your Faustkateers…like everyone…are in pain, shock and horror over this hate crime in Orlando. Spaces such as Pulse are the safe havens for those of us who have suffered threats of violence and physical and verbal attacks for being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or any other variation of non-conforming to the “norm” of society. It’s these spaces that allow us to be free and to breathe and relax and be at home. The Mickee Faust Club has been one of those comforting “queer places” for almost three decades in Tallahassee, and it is a center of activism for the gay community. So we have felt this attack on Pulse both at an individual and a corporate level.

But the spirit of our theater troupe is the same vibrant, creative, strong and amazing life force that exists within the larger LGBTQ+ community. We love. And because we love, we are able to laugh. And because we laugh, we can shed light into those dark corners of the world that are threatened and scared of our love. Forty-nine bright lights were violently snuffed out this past weekend. But the fire of our love will not be put out or put down. Or silenced with paper bags over our heads or shoved back into the closets so many of us finally escaped. Together with love we will take to the stage in Railroad Square and be Queer As Faust to the Ninth Power!!

Love may have suffered a blow to the heart this weekend, but we will pull together and we will overcome. Remember the dead with the defiance that has defined our movement from Stonewall to today. Love boldly, freely, and queerly. Faust is with you!

Thoughts on A Horrible Day

He didn't like seeing two men kissing in Miami, so he shot up a gay nightclub in Orlando full of young LGBTQ+ people, many of color.

That's the boiled down version of why the worst shooting massacre in United States history occurred early Sunday morning at last call at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando. At the end of the shooting spree, there were  fifty dead including the shooter, and at least that many or more injured and needing to go to the hospital.

It was a devastating story to encounter first thing in the morning on Facebook. And I have been crying on and off all day.

The Mickee Faust Club, one of those supposed "safe places" for queer people to gather, is in the process of pulling together our cabaret to celebrate Gay Pride month. But instead of doing our tech rehearsal, we joined with others at a local downtown lake to mourn and march and sing. Monday night's run through was also postponed so that we could gather at the state Capitol to rededicate ourselves to living in love without fear.

I have purposely stayed away from a lot of media today. I did hear that supposedly the shooter has a connection to the terrorist organization ISIS, and even though the FBI knew that, he was able to purchase an AR-15, the same weapon used in the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting in Connecticut and the San Bernadino Office Party shooting last Christmas.

This led me to post the following status on Facebook:

A shooting at a Luby's in Texas? Nothing. A shooting at a McDonald's in Southern California? Nothing. A shooting at a high school in Colorado? Nothing. A shooting at a public event with a Congresswoman in Arizona? Nothing. A shooting in a movie theater in Colorado (and Louisiana)? Nothing.A shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut? Nothing. A shooting at a university in Virginia? Nothing. A shooting at the DC Navy Yard? Nothing. A shooting at Fort Hood in Texas? Nothing. A shooting at a military recruitment center in Tennessee? Nothing. A shooting at a Bible Study in South Carolina? Nothing. Regular shootings daily in Chicago? Nothing. A shooting at a gay nightclub in Orlando? _________. Do NOT tell me this isn't a public health problem! And do not come here to tell me why you love your guns. Seriously, not today!

Of course, some people want to argue with me that this isn't about the guns; it's about the people. But I'm sorry. If there is one thing I have come to learn in 48 years of living on this planet, it's that the human heart has both the impulse for good and the impulse for evil. It lives in each of us, whether we profess a belief in God or not. If you feed the heart with Love and beauty and seek what is life-affirming, then the goodness will grow. However, if you take a regular bath in hatred and anger and greed, then you are feeding the evil part of yourself at the detriment to the good. Give that person a gun and....

This is why I really didn't want to hear what Florida Republican Senator, and a vocal opponent of the gay community, Marco Rubio had to say, or watch him shake his head in disbelief. I didn't seek out Governor Rick Scott who treats us like pesky flies, or the truly repugnant Republican AG Pam Bondi who actively fought our right to marry, and still cannot understand that blocking marriage equality was UNconstitutional. While I don't pray for the death of any of these folks, I do acknowledge that they are my enemies, just like the shooter in Orlando was my enemy. And their words and actions have helped to foster and grow an intolerance and nonacceptance of us that fuels idiotic bathroom debates, and mass shootings at gay nightclubs.

I do hope that maybe this time this will lead to really introducing a bill in Congress to get this mass shooting public health problem solved. The medicine is within our reach. We just need our elected leadership to stop looking over their shoulder at what the National Rifle Association may or may not do to them. A tall order, but I expect and demand bravery.

Kentucky Fried Crisis

Photo by the Associated Press

Think back over your childhood. Were there not times when your parents told you to do something that you didn’t like and didn’t want to do? It could be anything from taking out the trash, picking up your room, or maybe they told you that you had to play with a baby brother or sister, or go to a social event and interact with kids you didn’t really like. That last one is an especially difficult thing to do if you’re an introverted child. But nonetheless, your parents or parent, made you do something. You did it, and you survived.

There’s a situation that has been brewing in some places where those with the authority and the office that empowers them to distribute marriage licenses have decided that they don’t want to do it if it means giving a license to same-sex couples. They oppose the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision in Obergefell on June 26^th which found the state laws banning lesbian and gay people from marrying their beloved were unconstitutional. The most notable case of this protest is Kim Davis, Clerk of Court in Rowan County, KY, who has now told a gay male couple on four separate occasions since that date that she will not give them a marriage license. Never mind that a federal judge, and the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in the 6^th Circuit, has ordered her to issue David Emrold and his partner, as well as all lesbian and gay couples, a license. Even the U.S. Supreme Court has refused to intercede on her behalf. None of that matters to Ms. Davis because this is—for her—a matter of “God’s authority.” In a statement released through the Liberty Counsel, the right-wing Christian legal advocacy group, Ms. Davis stated:

“To issue a marriage license which conflicts with God’s definition of marriage, with my name affixed to the certificate, would violate my conscience,” Davis said. “It is not a light issue for me. It is a Heaven or Hell decision.”

There are those who see Ms. Davis, an Apostolic Christian, as taking a noble stand and one where she is seeking the freedom of a conscientious objector. However, as this crisis unfolds in Kentucky, I, too, am drawn to the words of Jesus:

Then they sent to him some Pharisees and some Herodians to trap him in what he said. And they came and said to him, ‘Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality, but teach the way of God in accordance with truth. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not? Should we pay them, or should we not?’ But knowing their hypocrisy, he said to them, ‘Why are you putting me to the test? Bring me a denarius and let me see it.’ And they brought one. Then he said to them, ‘Whose head is this, and whose title?’ They answered, ‘The emperor’s.’ Jesus said to them, ‘Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’ And they were utterly amazed at him.—Mark 12:13-17

In this case, we aren’t talking about a coin, but a piece of paper bearing the watermark of the Commonwealth of Kentucky. Ms. Davis may object to having her signature on said paper, but that paper is the Roman…I’m sorry Rowan…County document that grants the civil rights and privileges of marriage. It is a legal document and a secular form. God doesn’t dwell in that document; God dwells in the love manifested between the people being married.  

In fact, one could say that “God’s authority” has spoken in the U.S. Supreme Court’s ruling from June. Some of us hold a belief that the “life-giving and liberating love of Jesus” that Presiding Bishop-elect Michael Curry talks of came rolling down like a waterfall of justice on that June day.

No one is objecting to Ms. Davis, or anyone else, holding a particular religious viewpoint. But we live in a nation that has not only granted the people free exercise of religion; our Constitution specifically prohibits the government from establishing ONE religious belief. We are a nation of laws which are there to maintain order. Ms. Davis, under the laws of our country, must follow through and provide marriage licenses to those who are legally able to get married. If she cannot do this, then she needs to resign or be removed from office. She can consider it “the cost of discipleship.”

Mulling Over Marriage on Mary Magdalene's Feast Day

There was so much love in the air at the beginning of this month as Americans soaked in the new reality that the United States Supreme Court made marriage equality legal in all 50 states. Following on this news, the Episcopal Church passed resolutions to allow for new trial marriage rites that are gender neutral and changed the church canons to allow for same-sex couples to have access to the sacrament of marriage. Toot your party horns! We have achieved victory!

Ah, but not so fast. 

While our civil laws must now recognize my marriage as valid and legal everywhere (much to the chagrin and consternation of some), the actions of the 78th General Convention left some wiggle room for those bishops who oppose marriage equality to keep on keeping on. And they have. Some have penned very lengthy letters to explain their "No means No" to their dioceses. They term these letters "pastoral" but they seem to fall far short of offering the kind of caring exhibited by Jesus, even for the rich man seeking the answer to how to  achieve eternal life. I pray for those living in the dioceses of Central Florida, Albany, and Springfield, among many. Given the positions articluated by your bishops, you have some soul-searching to do for yourselves.

I'm in a different place. My own bishop, +Benhase of Georgia, made it clear in a letter to the diocese that he is in a struggle. Bishop Benhase has been clear that he is partial to the 1979 Book of Common Prayer. And so, for him, he is in conflict because he sees the new canons of the Church being in disagreement with the language embedded in the BCP. Equally difficult for the bishop is the decision to put the weight of whether a diocese will make these rites available to couples, beginning on 1Advent, squarely on the shoulders of the people in purple holding the croziers. This was done for the benefit of the now "minority" bishops. Bishop Benhase, who abstained on the vote changing the marriage canon, must figure this out for a diocese that is not particularly liberal overall, but has active and faithful LGBTQ+ Episcopalians and family members throughout the congregations. 

As one of those from the latter group, I couldn't help but smile that Bishop Benhase called for a meeting of many various leaders of the church in Georgia to begin a dialogue process about marriage, and he chose to have this meeting on the feast day of Mary Magdalene, the magnificent...and maligned...and absolutely devout follower of Jesus Christ. There are lots of different Marys in the Gospels, and Mary Magdalene has been thought to be one who was a notorious sinner, healed by Jesus, and became one of his closest followers. She, after all, was at the cross when he died when all the men had scattered. And she was the one who saw the risen Christ first and ran to tell the men who (surprise!) didn't believe her until they had seen Christ for themselves. I see so much of the LGBTQ+ Christian community in the witness of Mary Magdalene. Like her, the Church has labeled  us "notorious sinners." They've called Mary a "notorious sinner" and classified her as a prostitute...when they're being nice about it because she's believed to be the adulteress who was about to be stoned to death before Jesus interceded, and might be the woman who washed his feet with her tears. Like queers in the church, all anybody wants to talk about with Mary Magdalene is her sexual practices. There's nothing wrong with being sexual. But--truly--do we wonder about what any of the men around Jesus were up to in their sex lives? 

Like so many of us in the LGBTQ+ Christian community, our experiences and encounters of a "God nature" pull us closer to Christ because we can feel and understand deeply what it is to advocate for Love only to have the world beat you and spit in your face. We know what it means to suffer rejection. And we know that power that comes from the realization that nothing, not even a cruel and painful death, will ever destroy Love because Love will be victorious. From the Morning Daily office, there is this passage from Zephiniah:

I will deal with all your oppressors
   at that time.
And I will save the lame
   and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise
   and renown in all the earth. 
At that time I will bring you home,
   at the time when I gather you;
for I will make you renowned and praised
   among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes
   before your eyes, says the Lord.

(Zeph. 3: 19-20)

I appreciate that the new reality that marriage is simply now marriage and not qualified as "gay" or otherwise is something that everyone is adjusting to and getting used to. And I believe that God has been willing, able and ready for us to come to this new understanding as part of unfolding more of the mystery of eternal life to us. May the bishop and those from whom he has sought counsel pay attention, keep awake, and listen to that voice that repeats over and over to us to not be afraid. We're all going to be OK, even those who feel they are in the minority will be OK. Trust that we're all walking in the light of God together. 

My View on a Facebook Posting

One of my most memorable professors at the University of Missouri was Dr. Don Ranly. He was the perfect picture of "professor"with his grayish-white beard and mustache and his authoriative delivery of his lectures in my Journalism 300 course. This was one of the pre-requistite classes designed to weed out those second semester sophomores who aspired to enter the famed School of Journalism. We had to pay attention, do as he said, and pass J-300 to fulfill our dreams of J-School. To this day, I still remember one of Dr. Ranly's most famous statements. It was to answer the question: What is News?

"News is the current reasoned reflection of the day's events."

For my career as a journalist, marked by more awards than I can count or remember at this point, Dr. Ranly's succinct definition was a touchstone to guide me as I strived to do my part to serve the public radio listening audience of Florida. I also had my scroll, handed to me at graduation, of Walter Williams' Journalist's Creed to remind me that my job meant that I was in a position of public trust and to not abuse this trust as I went about presenting "the current reasoned reflection of the day's events."

There are days when I wonder what the hell has happened to my once beloved profession. I had one of those yesterday.

The medium was Facebook. The text was a posting by a friend who now serves as an editor at the Tallahassee Democrat, the only daily newspaper in the capital city. She was sharing what had run on the op-ed page of the paper. It was a column by a local minister decrying the U.S. Supreme Court's ruling on marriage equality.

Such an opinion piece would not be so unusual for this city. I wouldn't agree with it and it would bother me to have yet-another Christian getting a column to rail about gay people. What was unusual, and why it more than bothered me, was that this was no run-of-the-mill ranting pastor. This was Fr. Eric Dudley of St. Peter's Anglican Church, a parish which had its beginning in an act of spiritual violence committed against St. John's Episcopal Church. Fr. Dudley, with all of the priests, most of the vestry, and several of the wealthier members of the congregation, announced at the 9am service on Sunday, Oct. 2, 2005, that they were leaving St. John's and walking down the street to begin a new church affiliated with the Anglican Church of North America (ACNA). He invited people to join him as he went out the door. And those who didn't were left with no priests, no lay governance, and in shock, hurt, anger, and disbelief.

Father Dudley's decision to do this act of rebellion on a Sunday morning came from his almost pathological hatred of the Episcopal Church and its decision to consecrate Bishop Gene Robinson of New Hampshire. He had been in the newspaper and on TV speaking out against Bishop Robinson. And he started having cottage meetings, six months prior to the big walk out, to see who might be willing to follow him. Declaring those who stayed "unorthodox," he effectively shook the dust of the Episcopal Church off his feet and left. On the Christian Sabbath day.

What's more: St. Peter's is affiliated with the Church of Uganda, which has been a participant in promoting the passage of laws in that country that criminalize homosexuality.

The timing of this op-ed piece was curious. The Episcopal Church has just finished its General Convention where it voted overwhelmingly to offer trial marriage liturgies for use by both same-sex and opposite-sex couples. In a move of pastoral generosity, the Convention also made room for theological disagreement, so that no bishop or priest has to marry a couple if they don't want to do so; however, the bishops must make provisions to find a way for a lesbian or gay couple to access the marriage rite with another diocese. It appears Florida will be one of those opting out.

None of this history, or corresponding current state of affairs, appeared in Dudley's piece or in the newspaper. Instead, all the average reader saw was a man in a clergy collar, talking about God's intentions for creation as "one man and one woman" and asking for lesbian and gay people to respect him and his church's position to continue denying that our marriages are valid.

But for those of us who do know this history, and particularly for those of us who are LGBTQ or allies and know this about the author, to see this in a newspaper with no additional comment or corresponding "counter-point" from a member of the Christian clergy was appalling.

My newspaper friend informed me this piece was unsolicited. As I noted to my friend, allowing this unsolicited piece to run without an opposing opinion is akin to having a fan of the New York Yankees offer a commentary on the 2004 Boston Red Sox win of the World Series. Or--to put it in purely local terms--giving a UF Gator fan free space to offer an opinion on the FSU Seminoles. The fact that it was not even a piece the newspaper requested, and they printed it any way, opens them up to other questions: will an atheist get to offer commentary on Easter? Can a neo-Nazi decide that at times when Jews are remembering the Holocaust he should submit a piece to the paper to explain why it's all a big lie?

Answer: of course not! And yet there are lots of atheists in our community. And there are people who hold anti-Semitic views in our society as well. By the logic of the Tallahassee Democrat, we should open the editorial pages to those viewpoints, too, without any counterpoint. Printing an unsolicited piece by Father Eric Dudley...especially given the timing with the actions at the Episcopal Church's General Convention...was simply wrong. There is no defense for this. The ethic of public trust and presenting "a current reasoned reflection of the day's events," especially when dealing with a current events topic on an editorial page, calls for not accepting just anybody's opinion piece, but putting some thought and planning into the presentation. That's called being responsible with this public trust.

The paper is going to run a My View piece answering Dudley's theological arguments to support denying recognition of married same-sex couples. The rabbi of Temple Israel, Jack Romberg, was good enough to respond, and he has and has done what he has done before: explain the Hebrew Scriptures to a Christian audience who keep referring to them to back up what they think God intends for humanity. Jews have spent a whole lot more time on Genesis than most Christians ever will.

Too bad the local Episcopal priests aren't the ones answering Dudley. They might tell him and us about Jesus and the most extravagant and liberating Love that rocks the world.