The Hell We Create

I have been thinking a lot about a phone call I had at the beginning of this week with a person whose child had come out as gay.  These types of phone sessions are fairly common it seems for me as the head of our local PFLAG chapter.  And often times, the stories are the same: parent is calling me after agonizing for days, weeks, months about their child who just came out.  Their agony comes from (fill-in-blank-of any-number-of-bad-scenarios-they've-heard-about-or-imagined) for their child.  And ultimately, there is a broken heart.  This child is shattering all the dreams that they'd had for their kid.  No white wedding.  No opposite-gender-in-law.  And (usually the most gut-wrenching) no grandchildren.

And the biggest agony of them all:  "I don't know how to talk to my child about this!"

Of course they don't.  Because they aren't gay.  And you have to be gay to talk about being gay to a gay person, right?

These discussions by phone, or sometimes by email, are among the most important contacts I make as a PFLAG leader.  Many people have wondered if it is hard for me to listen to a parent who isn't all A-OK with their kid's sexual orientation.   It isn't hard for me to listen to these parents; I hear in their voices the hurt and the struggle to unlearn the misguided ideas they've had about sexual orientation or about their influences on their children and did they "do something wrong."   I don't take any of it personally because it isn't about me; this is about them.   And for me, it all comes back to the fact that so many of things that torment all of us when faced with change or difference stem from our ego and the hell we create when we think we are the center of all things.

And for a parent, this is the most important conversation they're going to have about their kid.  For many of the parents I talk to, they haven't shared this earth-shaking news with anyone else because they are afraid.   They know what is said about gay people when folks think they don't have to be polite because "we're all among friends here."   Maybe they've even participated in a little good ol' fashioned gay-bashing at one time in their lives.  Sometimes, they'll admit to that in the conversation.  And the tears begin to flow and this call becomes the confession of sin, those things done or left undone.   How they are met during this phone call could make a huge difference in how they treat their gay child from here on out.  That's why I think it's important to listen, listen and listen some more to what the parent is saying and gently steer them out of the waters of fear and back to the sea of love.  And get them to come to a PFLAG meeting. Once there, they'll meet other parents who have been through the same hell, and found their way to the light.

People have asked if I reveal to the parent that I am a lesbian.  Not usually.  Again, this phone call isn't about me; it's about them and the hell they've created.  The last thing they'd need is for me to tell them, "I'm here; I'm queer; and so is your kid so get used to it!"

So how do we get people from creating this type of homophobic hell?   I think it can come with the continued advancement of equality and acceptance, both goals of PFLAG.  The more we can shift the societal thinking in a direction that doesn't view a person's sexual orientation as somehow limiting or wrong, the less power that hell will have to draw parents into a whirlwind of torment.  The more we can have self-assured parents who stay out of that pit, the better it will be for all gay people.

If you are coming out to your parents or guardians, make sure you have the contact information for PFLAG (http://www.pflag.org/) readily available.  We are there to help keep your relationship with your loved ones in tact... and encourage them to become the fierce advocate for equal rights that they were meant to be!



  

Methodists Making Waves

Perhaps I'm a fool, but I believe that anyone who responds to a call to the priesthood is following the will of the Spirit.   If they make it through the meat grinder of discernment and seminary to become a priest it is an act of God's will that gets them before a bishop for ordination.   The priests and pastors of a church are then expected to be a human representation of Christ and help to shape the spiritual lives of others.  And they are expected to obey their bishop.

But what happens when the bishop, or the Church, seems to be out of step with the reality looking back at the priest or pastor from the pews?

That's the question that haunts many clergy in this country who are seeing more and more LGBT people returning to church, and participating in the life of their parishes.  In the northeast, the corner of our country that has been the most favorable toward marriage equality, it has to be incredibly hard to be a leader of a faith community that is lagging behind the civil authorities on the question of marriage.  Imagine being a minister to a lesbian couple that you see week after week at the altar rail, who pledge their money and their time to the life of the congregation, who you know want to get married and would like you to officiate... and you have to say, "No" because your national Church refuses to recognize the love shared between two people as valid?  One can rationalize it away, but the reality is that-- as retired Episcopal Bishop Barbara Harris said-- you are forced to treat that couple as the "half-assed baptized."

Well, in New England, 100 clergy in the United Methodist Church signed a pledge to say, "Enough!!"   The renegade reverends have said they are defying their national church's position on performing marriages for same-sex couples.  From the Boston Globe:

The Rev. LaTrelle Miller Easterling, pastor of Union United Methodist Church in Boston’s South End, signed the statement, she said, because she could not in good conscience deny a practicing member of her church her marriage blessing because the person is gay.

“We’re laying on the line our ordination that many of us have worked four to eight years to get, as well as the expense and time of the seminary,’’ she said. “I certainly stand by this movement.’’

This is a tremendous act of courage, and commitment to following the Spirit.  There are some in New England, and elsewhere in the United Methodist Church, who are not thrilled with this act of defiance of the higher authorities.  But sadly, when it comes to equal rights in the Church setting, it seems the only way things change is for some group within the structure to finally force the issue.  This is a proud tradition throughout the history of the Christian Church. So many of the advancements in thinking within the Church have first been met with resistance and a begrudging release of the power held by a few.  The German Reformation with Martin Luther going toe-to-toe with those who would defend the infallibility of the Pope, and the retention of Scripture and Sacraments to the priestly class is just one classic example.  The creeds came about only after much infighting and struggling and drawing of lines.  Painful and maddening as it must have been in Nicea, the end result is language that has been passed along throughout the ages and beliefs that have survived to this day.

One signal that things might be changing for the Methodists outside New England came last week in the trial of Rev. Amy DeLong of Wisconsin, who had committed the "sin" of being an "avowed practicing homosexual" (the unfortunate and very-dated language of the UMC's Book of Discipline), and she had married a lesbian couple in defiance of the Church laws.   Her trial ended with the jury refusing to find fault with her own lesbianism, and putting her on a 20-day suspension rather than defrocking her.  

"I hope this signals to folks around the country and around the world that the United Methodists in Wisconsin aren't going to throw their gay children out," said a smiling DeLong, sitting beside her partner of 16 years, Val Zellmer.

I believe we are moving in a direction that will bring all these denominations still wrangling and using piecemeal diplomacy to a place of  "pastoral generosity".  That generousity will allow ministers to marry couples regardless of the gender of the two people.  I believe time will show these brave members of the New England clergy and Rev. DeLong to be following what the Spirit is saying to the Church instead of simply kowtowing to earthly authorities who will drag their feet forever on a matter of justice for all. 

I believe in what the Spirit is saying to the Church.

History Gives Context

Students in the American school system learn about historical figures such as the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.   In Florida, schools must teach about the Holocaust.  And there is no dearth of lesson plans about the Revolutionary War, and the Civil War.  

People of faith, particularly in the mainline denominations of Christianity, are always being brought into contact with the text that help to shape their beliefs about God, Christ, and Spirit.  Celebrations of the Eucharist, and the major religious holidays with their traditional hymns and scripture lessons serve as a way to re-member ourselves to the Holy One.

History gives one a sense of a past which has brought us to the present moment and guides us to the future.

This is why it is so important for queer people to learn their history, much of which has been hidden from them because it was not deemed important enough to talk about (yet another way to marginalize us). 

I'm often very surprised to meet people, gay and non-gay, who don't know what I mean when I talk about "Stonewall".   Can you believe there is ANYBODY who hasn't heard the story of the June '69 riots that rocked the Village in New York when the trannies and other patrons at the Stonewall Inn bar fought back against yet-another police raid of their local mafia-owned watering hole?

Young queers here in Florida probably aren't aware of the McCarthy-esque witch hunts led by State Sen. Charlie Johns of Starke from 1956-1965.  Johns chaired the Florida Legislative Investigation Committee which targeted gay men and lesbians in state government and public schools and the universities.  More than 100 employees and students had their lives destroyed by the committee's work which mercifully came to an end with a power shift in the state legislature... and the publication of the "racy" purple pamphlet.  The pamphlet was meant to cause shock and awe with many photos of men kissing each other in half-naked poses.  Instead it caused revulsion and anger that taxpayers money was being used to publish such "filth."

These are some of the saints and martyrs that fed the spirit of Pride celebrations in the years.  Knowing the events, and even names, of those who have gone before is very important.  Hearing about the struggles that plagued the LGBT community, from the Anita Bryant Save Our Children crusade against human rights for LGBT people to the current day struggles of marriage rights gives hope to those who without a history may think their issues are new.  They aren't.  Many have come and gone and died and loved to get us to Friday night's momentous occasion in New York.   Just knowing that there were people hugging and kissing and celebrating on Christopher Street in front of the Stonewall Inn after the marriage equality vote gives me goose bumps. 

From the documentary, "Screaming Queens" about a riot in 1966 in California at the Compton Cafeteria

A part of me wonders if queers shouldn't write their own Queer Passover Haggadah, replete with retelling the stories of Stonewall, Harvey Milk, the Reagan years and the AIDS quilt, the Marches, and the plagues of state referendums... and the deliverance by state and church law in some places.  We could make June 27th the first night of our Queer Passover, with the youngest at the table posing the question of how this night is different than any other night as we recount the bravery of the Stonewall patrons in New York City. 

Knowing that we are part of a larger story helps to make our contribution to that story feel stronger and more vibrant.  That was the take home message I got this month when former Faustkateer and ACT UP Tallahassee activist Rob Nixon came to town for a photo exhibit and discussion about the early days of Pride Week in Tallahassee.   To see the pictures from that first Pride celebration on the steps of the old State Capitol building and to talk about the film festival that was once held at the public library reminded me of where we were when we had fewer gray hairs and how far we've come.   

It gets better.... if you know the history and can see how much the world has changed. 

 

I Love New York!

I remember this ad campaign from the early 1980s and it is so appropriate today.   Indeed, gay people from New Hampshire to North Carolina and all over this country let out loud cheers when we got word that the NY State Senate had passed the marriage equality bill.   And the ink wasn't even dry on the page before Governor Andrew Cuomo signed the measure into law, making New York the largest state with marriage equality in the nation.

What a way to kick off this weekend's commemoration in New York City of the seminal event of the Stonewall riots which started the gay rights movement in this country in 1969.

I got word of the bill's passage when I pulled out my cell phone at the end of last night's performance of the "Faust with Benefits" cabaret.  A text had come through from the Human Rights Campaign announcing "Victory!"   I handed my phone to Dennis who was on stage playing with the after-show band and he made the announcement to the crowd assembled in the back yard.

"YEAH!!!" The whoop from the assembled multitude could have been heard for blocks away.   There was toasting, hugging, kissing, and even sweeter acknowledgement that one of our Faust couples was celebrating their one year anniversary of their own wedding in Washington, DC. It was a great night!

My hope is not only that this victory will solidify the situation in my home state of New Hampshire (where the National Organization of Marriage has been trying to up-end marriage equality), but it will also light a fire under the butt of our President who says all the right things, but refuses to take bold action to push for the repeal of the Defense of Marriage Act.  It's time, Mr. President.  

Repent!!

The word "repent" is so loaded.  And in queer ears, it is distasteful.  How many times has some street preacher screamed that word at me and my friends as if screaming would somehow force us to change?!

A couple years ago, my favorite Friday priest, Fr. Lee Graham, preached a homily in which he re-framed my understanding of the word.  Repent, while having a commanding sound, can also simply mean, "rethink" or "consider this again."   Those words are easier for me to hear, particularly when I think of John the Baptist whose feast day we celebrate today.  

John, born of Elizabeth and Zechariah six months before Jesus, had gone out into the wilderness and embarked on the life similar to the Jewish prophets before him.  He has shunned his own comforts and is calling on the people of Israel to get right in their relationship with God.  And this time, it's different than with the other prophets.  John also knows that he is the end of this era, and a new game is coming to town in Jesus.  All the more reason for him to speak with urgency and really push for people to reconsider how they're living, moving and having their being.   All the way to his death by beheading.  That's what happens when he speaks truth to power in telling Herod Antipas, "You ain't right!" for marrying his brother's wife.

The directive to repent is one that I have often spoken of in regards to the church, particularly in this past year as the Anglican Covenant continues to be bandied about.   I have found the obsession on trying to draw lines in the sand and declare "who's in" and "who's out" in the kingdom of God to be so stupid that the only word that seems fitting is "repent".   To the Church I say, repent, or rethink, this absurd idea that God loves only this set of people enough to include them at the Lord's table, and anyone who isn't exactly like us is to sit in the corner with a dunce cap.   Repent, or rethink, this need for control and order when all Scripture seems to indicate that once the Holy Spirit gets into the mix, all order and honor goes toward God only and not those in their fancy clothes who parade about in the temple.   Repent, or rethink, what it means to be a disciple in the creation that God has given to us... and that our job is not to be tearing each other down but to be building each other up.   Repent, or rethink, what it means to be a steward of that creation as we refuse to recycle glass and certain plastics because it might cost some money to do so.  Repent, or rethink, documents that are likely to cause more distress and discomfort in the Anglican Communion and drive people further away from God due to their unfortunate belief that the church institution is God.

On this feast day of St. John the Baptist, I recommit myself to the mission of quiet and contemplative listening to God who gives me the strength and courage to be my queerly Christian self in this world as a witness to God's love for all.

 

Hot Steamy Lesbians

I had to laugh this morning when I noticed that someone in Los Angeles stumbled upon my blog by entering the search string in Google: "hot steamy lesbians making passionate love."  My site was #54.  The fact that the person got that far, and came here, tells me they were pretty desperate!  And probably left very disappointed.  Somehow, a queer navigating a relationship with God probably isn't much of a turn on.

I've been thinking some about how our culture has some messed up ideas about sex.  I think the church, or at least the teachings that have happened within the church, have contributed to the problems.   Folks like to blame St. Augustine for having molded Christianity's anti-body stand.  They also look at the letters of Paul and his condemnation of the flesh in favor of the spirit as more evidence that the Christian Church has made us all very sexually frustrated individuals.  But my reading of the situation suggests that it isn't the fault of Paul or Augustine.  It's the fault of those who have interpreted their writings and used them to advance an agenda of negativity against the body.  It is the leftover gnosticism that challenged the earliest of Christian thought and the philosophy of black vs. white, good vs. bad, God vs. Demi-God that wormed its way into our psyches and has led us to this screwy place of dichotomous thinking about the body.

The body is not bad.  The body is the house of our soul and the soul is given breath to light up the body and animate it.  Our bodies are receptors that inform our souls of things that are good and bad.  Our bodies let us know that something is pleasing and when something is painful.  If something is pleasing and good we don't think about our body.  We only think about our body when something in the body hurts.  Just like the way we tend to turn to God only when we're in need or trouble of some kind, and we don't remember that God is also with us in our times of pleasure and happiness.   

The way I see it, when St. Paul is talking about trying to break free from the flesh and pay attention to the spirit, what I see is the striving to stay tapped into the amazing and freeing love of God that one experiences sometimes in centering prayer.  A place where in silence and simplicity of stillness, there is a feeling of no longer being confined to the physical limitations of the body.  This is not a place I have reached often, but the couple times it has happened (once in centering prayer and once in a polarity session), it's knocked my socks off.  It is a new way of understanding the phrase of being "in love" that defies my ability to really explain it. 

In a way I believe that is what can happen when a couple who are meant to be together experience when they "make love".  The combination of two souls meeting each other in two bodies which unite as one can take those souls on an ascending ride which defies words and intellect.   Such an experience is true love... and God is there with them in that moment and allowing those souls to know what it means to be "in love".
This is not the stuff of sermons on a Sunday morning, but it is the stuff of the every day life of God's people as they enter into relationship with each other... be it same-gender loving or opposite-gender. 

So while I am not about to offer up any "hot steamy lesbians" to the curious and sexually challenged net surfer, I am about reminding us not to scorn and bash the body.  Instead, come to love the body as the receptor of God's love, both in the temporal and eternal sense of love.

Remembering the Father

If it hadn't been for my father, I would not have returned to church.  

This is a fact.   It was my dad's death which brought me back into the Episocpal Church after an extended absence. 

As I sat in church this morning listening to the sermon, my mind wandered back to the fall 2007.  My father died on October 5, and we held two funerals: one in New Hampshire with the burial and another service at St. John's on All Saint's Day.  It was the most time I had spent in church in about 15 years.  And I didn't expect to spend another minute more in a pew. 

And so here I am today: in the pew every Sunday.  When not in the pew, I'm serving as part of the altar party as a Eucharistic Minister.  I co-mentor an Education for Ministry group, and am ready to complete the course this year.  And this morning, I was addressing the congregation of St. John's about our new Circle of Hope ministry to assist with those who are unemployed and underemployed to find their way out of the morass of despair to a place of hope and a new job. 

Not only am I back in church, I feel like I spend half my life in the church.

My active participation is an outgrowth of that moment back in November 2007 when I wondered whether I should go back to St. John's.  The funerals were over, so there didn't seem any reason for me to be there.  But I couldn't shake the feeling, or the incessant round of hymns in my head, that made me feel compelled to be there.  I wrestled with the question for a few days until that Sunday morning when a voice in my head boomed, "Show up!"

The sound of that command was very similar to the way my father would put his proverbial foot down with us kids when we got too loud and rambunctious.  And while the voice I heard was not my father's voice, it was inescapable dad-like order to quit arguing and just do as I was told.

I wonder if this is what might have happened with those who were called to follow Christ.  Ordinary guys, and the sisters Mary and Martha, are going about their every day tasks when they dropped what they were doing to be a disciple of Christ's because they were ordered to "Show up!"  

To show up, in my experience, is not merely to come to church and sit in the pew and allow someone else to do the thinking for you.  When I responded to the call to "show up", I found myself listening deeply and learning the story of what it means to be part of the Christian version of God's people.  And I discovered in the listening that the story of Christ is one that was highly liberating and freeing.  I felt myself connecting with what my ancestors, and understanding that many of the themes that still exist in today's world... pride, greed, guilt... have always been with us, but they do not have to rule our lives if we allow love to be our center point.   My understanding went deeper still when I understood that to tap into that root of Love in my own being meant that I was empowered to act on that love.  And through my actions out of Love, I am presenting the face of God to others in a way that is non-threatening, non-judgmental, and quietly Christian in that Episcopalian way.  Episcopalians, at least the ones I've known, are not street preaching evangelizers.  But we can be people who open the way to a faith that stimulates the brain and encourages the heart to stay strong.

My sense as I survey the past 3-1/2 years is that God has been acting in the Fatherly way with me, teaching me and shaping me and molding me the way a parent would.   Interesting that it was the death of my earthly father that forced me to become acquainted with my heavenly Father.