June 4, 2009
I have some crazy collections for a middle-aged woman. I’ve managed to stockpile about 200 Starbuck gift cards, a small suitcase of postcards, and my Pez Candy Dispenser collection is currently hovering somewhere around 500, give or take. I have another collection. Domain names. At present I own 11 of them, and yes, in case you’re wondering they cost slightly more apiece than gift cards, postcards, or toy candy dispensers.
4 point to where you are right now and that I plan to hold on to indefinitely (christianlesbians.com, christianlesbians.org, sisterfriends-together.org, sisterfriends-together.com).- 2 point to Grace Unfolding Ministries (grace-unfolding.org, grace-unfolding.com) that I hope to one day develop into an active website but for the time-being contains a simple unchanging message.
- 4 point nowhere and were bought when I was trying to work out a name for this site a couple years ago and that I’ll probably put back out on the market when they expire in 2012 (for-such-a-time-as-this.org, forsuchatimeasthisministries.org, micahministry.org, micahsmandate.org).
- And then there’s my personal and infrequently updated blog (anitasblog.com).
That leads to my latest acquisition. I just added 1ofthe18000.com to my collection. D and I were one of the 18,000 couples legally married in California and so my thoughts are to create a blog snapshot of our regular lives and ordinary marriage with the hope that our story might impact someone who voted yes on prop 8 enough that come the next election they would consider voting in favor of marriage equality. It’s all about changing one heart at a time. Anyway, it will probably be a couple months before the 1ofthe18000.com goes live and you’ll be among the first to know so you can spread the word to any California voters you know personally.
Now that I think about it, there’s another domain name that might fit quite well in my collection…
get-off-the-internet-and-get-some-work-done-around-the-house.org
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June 3, 2009
While Jesus was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him; but Jesus said to him, ‘Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?’ When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked, ‘Lord, should we strike with the sword?’ Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, ‘No more of this!’ And he touched his ear and healed him. Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple police, and the elders who had come for him, ‘Have you come out with swords and clubs as if I were a bandit? When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness!’
The Betrayal and Arrest of Jesus from Luke 22:47-52
I was reeling and unsteady. There had been too many painful words spoken at me. Too many losses had begun to pile up. Doors closed. Friendships ended. Confusion, misunderstandings, and misdirected hostility seemed to rule the day. All because I had gone to a few of the people I loved the most and said, “Because I love you I need you to know something about me. I’m gay.” In an instant it seemed everything and everyone around me changed. People I adored and loved reacted in ways I could never have anticipated. I was blindsided by the anger. I was devastated by the looks of disappointment and disgust. I was chilled to the bone by the coldness that swept threw the closest of relationships.
And then through happenstance or the most loving gesture of a most loving God (I vote for the later), I stumbled over this familiar passage on the arrest and betrayal of Jesus that showed me everything I needed to find my way back to steady, solid ground.
In the crowd that approached Jesus was the high priest’s slave. While the others in the crowd were there of their own accord, and no doubt relishing being so close to silencing this crazy prophet once and for all, the slave was there for one reason. He was a slave. He was there because he had been ordered to be there. This one man in the crowd was innocent. He had no power. He meant no harm. He was merely following the command of his master.
And to the edge of the crowd were Jesus’ followers. They probably didn’t even notice the slave standing at the side of his master. Instead they recognized among the approaching crowd religious leaders who had repeatedly taken an adversarial position to Jesus’ teachings and miracles throughout his ministry. They saw the soldiers with swords at the ready. They remembered Jesus’ words from only hours earlier that he would soon be betrayed, suffer and die. When all that had been said by Jesus echoing in their minds and with the imminent confrontation with numbers larger than they possessed, their basic instinct to protect the One they loved kicked in. Driven by fear of the uncertainty of the situation and by love for Jesus, one of his followers grabbed a sword and in a defensive move swung it wildly in the direction of the crowd where it connected with perhaps the most least threatening and innocent of all those gathered, a slave.
Jesus responds by saying “Enough of this!” and then reaching to the edge of the crowd where the slave stands screaming in pain, Jesus places his hand on the bloody remnants that had once been his right ear and heals him. Jesus didn’t reach down and pick up the severed ear from the dust and attach it back in place. That would have been impressive enough but no, Jesus touched the place where there was nothing more than a gaping wound and from that nothingness he brought forth wholeness. An old ear wasn’t repaired. A new ear was formed.
Only Luke includes this last healing touch of Jesus which isn’t all that surprising really since Luke’s vision of Jesus was as the Great Physician, the One who heals those who have been wounded, even by the well-intended mistakes of his own followers. And that’s really what it was. The unnamed disciple had meant well. It was love for his Master and a passion to protect him at all cost that had caused him to swing the sword and whack an ear. He wasn’t motivated by hate but by love for Jesus. And yet, even though his motives were well-meaning and his action meant to do a good thing rather than to cause harm, it resulted in a devastating injury to an innocent man; a wound that had Jesus not healed would have negatively impacted every day of the slave’s life from that moment on. As a slave with one ear he would have been viewed of less value and perhaps would have been relegated to even more menial, degrading tasks than when he was once a slave deemed good enough to accompany his master in public. While pain must have held the loudest voice in his head immediately following the blow of the sword, it’s not hard to imagine that in those first seconds the slave saw his uncertain future and feared for his life.
I realized in my closer reading of this passage that in my life I’ve been both the innocent slave and the unnamed disciple.
I am the innocent slave. I came out and swords starting swinging in my direction by people I loved and respected. Good people. Loving people. People of faith who loved God, followed Christ, and were genuinely committed to the church and to other believers. People who at every other time in my life and in every other occasion had displayed nothing but love, loyalty, and kindness toward me. I’d never seen them do a hateful thing or speak a harmful word and so when they picked up swords and started swinging, it made no sense until I came back to this passage and saw each of them as the unnamed disciple; a disciple who loving Jesus beyond measure and fearing that everything he had come to know in his life since following Jesus was about to be taken from him, swung out at the perceived threat and in doing so wounded the slave who was no threat to the One he loved or to his way of life. Recognizing that swords are often swung in our direction from well-intended people does nothing to justify the aggressive action of the sword-swinger nor does it require that we stand still while our ears are hacked off, but compassion and understanding go along away in dulling the edge of the sword and softening our hearts to seeing the unnamed follower behind the sword as our brother and not our enemy.
I am the unnamed disciple, and the words Jesus speaks to me are “Enough of this!” Even knowing the personal violence that lay ahead for him, Jesus continues to advocate the way of peace. The way of peace is the way of the kingdom of God. Jesus will be taken. Heavy chains will be secured on his arms and legs. A crown of thorns will be placed on his head. A leather whip with multiple cords will dig deep in his flesh, and in the end he’ll be nailed and hung to a cross to suffer and die. “But remember my words, no violence!” These same followers of Jesus will suffer their own violence in the days that follow Jesus’ ascension. They will be mocked and ridiculed. Some will be persecuted. Others will be imprisoned. And a few will be killed for living true to their faith and calling. “But remember my words, no violence!” Though my intentions might be well-meaning, my indignation righteous, my anger at injustice justified, if anything I might do or anything I say holds potential to harm to another human life in body or in spirit, then Jesus speaks to me, “Drop the sword. The way of God’s kingdom is peace.” At times the sword seems to make more sense than the way of peace but the Kingdom of God has never been all that concerned with making sense to human understanding yet to those who seek spiritual understanding it makes all the sense in the world…and in the kingdom.
Today I’m trying to do the best I can to not pick up the sword and follow the way of peace but even when I fail, as I have and as I will, there remains the comfort and assurance that because Grace has no limit, there’s no mistake I will ever make that’s beyond the reach of Jesus to redeem and restore to wholeness.
You have lost nothing and will lose nothing that is beyond God’s ability to restore to you. You have lost no voice in ministry, no loved ones, no dignity, no human worth, no assurance of your faith, that God can’t redeem. The power of the sword for destruction is nothing compared to the healing power of the One who reaches out to you. God makes all things new. God brings life from death. God brings healing from injury. God restores, redeems, and makes whole.
And from everything I’ve experienced in my life and witnessed in others, the new ear God has for you is even better than the old one laying mangled in the dust.
And he touched his ear and healed him.
Whatever needs healing in you, may God’s healing touch come to you today. This is my prayer for you.
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Posted in Devotionals 10 Comments »
June 2, 2009
Sorry Slowpokes, but all the copies of “Reflections of Simplicity” have already been claimed.
Better luck next time mi hermanas y hermanos!
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Posted in Contests, Giveaways, and Games No Comments »
June 2, 2009
I was recently introduced to a small pamphlet from a Quaker series called “Reflections on Simplicity” by Elaine Prevallet. There’s nothing fancy about the presentation. No leather cover. No gold leaf edges. No cozy new book smell. Just 30 pages of truth and wisdom that poked me right between the eyes. The message is gentle but clear, deeply spiritual and totally practical. We are called to live from an undivided heart and mind, where we balance the cares and demands of the world with the sacred inner life of the soul.
I like this little gem so much that I bought eight copies to share and right now they’re within arms reach, securely sealed inside a matching number of manila envelopes that I’ll drop into the mail to the first eight folks who send an email to anita@sisterfriends-together.org that includes their name and mailing address. I’ll let you know as soon as all the copies have been claimed and if you aren’t among the first eight, you can order your own copy by ordering one from Quaker Books.
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Posted in Contests, Giveaways, and Games, SnapShot Reflections No Comments »
June 1, 2009
I was involved in children’s ministry for 15 years in a church of over 6000 people. With three morning services the sanctuary was always packed and so were the Sunday School classrooms. No matter how many snacks I loaded up in my SUV or how many crafts supplies I snipped and stapled late into the night, I usually had just enough to get by. My yearly kindergarten graduation party was always overflowing with children and parents and our summer camping program for youth was filled to maximum capacity as determined by the fire marshall and then some more were squeezed in for good measure. The accumulation of all those years of experience left me with the internal message that success was measured in numbers.
And then I moved to another town and to another church where instead of preparing a lesson for 60 preschoolers I was huddled on the floor within a tiny circle of 6 four and five year olds. On Sunday morning there was always room in the pews for another busload or two of people with wide backsides, and I went from panicking with worry that there wouldn’t be enough supplies and refreshments for all those who showed up at events to keeping a stock of ziploc bags at the ready so I could send the left-overs home with the few folks who showed up. After leaving my former mega-church and entering into the world of Sunday School teacher shortages, small class rooms, half-empty sanctuaries and conflicting, competing family schedules, I started to think we were doing something wrong. Why weren’t people showing up? I wondered what we were doing wrong that they weren’t showing up and when I wasn’t wondering that I was wondering what was wrong with them that they weren’t showing up?!
Numbers use to matter. Big numbers were success. Small numbers were failure. But that was before I came to realize the worth of the individual and that if one single life is touched, healed, helped or encouraged, something immeasurable and of eternal value has taken place.
Several months ago I began coordinating a faith event to be held at our church following the California Supreme Court’s decision on Prop 8. Whatever the outcome, we wanted to create a time and space for people in the community to gather together to attend to their spiritual health; to voice their anger and grief, to share their pain, and to begin to find healing and renewed hope through ritual and prayer. We wanted to create an opportunity in the assault of societal rejection to allow individuals the chance to experience the affirming embrace of God’s love and the human dignity to which all God’s creation are entitled to enjoy. Over the past few weeks we did everything we knew to get the word out to the community. I contacted PFLAG and the local GLBTQ Community Centers. We contacted the local paper. The flier for the event was sent out to over several other affirming congregations in the local area and added to the events listed on the Day of Decision website. I facebooked and twittered til my finger tips were blue.
Last week when I went to the bakery to order the cake for the reception to follow the service, I was asked by the person taking my order how many people the cake was to serve. I hesitated for a minute and considering how many I hoped would come and how many I suspected would come I answered, “We need a cake that will feed between 5 and 200 people.” She laughed and filled out an order for a 3/4 sheet cake.
Last Friday night after weeks of preparation, 22 people showed up. More than 5. Less than 200. Among that small circle of people that included myself, D and three other clergy from our church were an older married couple from PFLAG, a gay clergy member from an Episocopal Church, a gay pastor and his spouse from a United Methodist Church, a queer youth, a questioning youth, three straight men from our church; two of which brought their children with them, and a few others. As Pastor Steve began the evening, people were invited to share where they have experienced or seen pain. Young and old, gay and straight, began to share from their hearts without hesitation. We prayed together. We sat in silence together. And as each of us named a source of hope for us (a person, an event, a dream) we came forward and lighting a candle we stood under the covering of the table. Marriages, both straight and gay were affirmed. The sacredness and worth of every human being was lifted up. We then carried our candles outside where we walked the labyrinth accompanied by the soft sound of live flute music and finally we came together in the center of the labyrinth and exhaled with deep sighs of “ahhhhhh” that none of us had to walk alone in the journey to equality. The evening concluded by meeting one another over a cake that in purple lettering read “Equality for all…with hope and determination” and despite cutting enormous pieces for everyone we were barely able to dent.
Do I wish more people had been there? Sure. I wish a thousand people could have experienced what we did; the gentleness of the Spirit, the s trength and vulnerability of gathering with good-hearted people, and the healing comfort of the prayers and ritual that held us. But at the same time, I’m thrilled that there were 22 people there and that 22 people felt cared for and loved; that 22 people were heard and held, and that 22 people left a little different for the better than when they arrived.
I feel the same way about this blog. It’s not that I don’t notice the stats. I do. I watch the number of visitors climb one day and the number fall the next. I’ll admit that on occasion I even succumb to reading posts by the experts that promise to increase my readership if I just follow their little tricks and tips. In the end though, I don’t care if a thousand people read my blog. I only care that you do, if you are someone who today needs a word of encouragement or hope or grace. If you need to hear today that God thinks you’re something special, that God’s day is better because you’re in it, that God’s love reaches all the way to right where you are, and that nothing will ever, no never, not ever separate you from God’s love then consider this your very own personal blog dedicated to you. You’re worth it because you, my friend, are the beloved of God and so even if you’re the only one who shows up to eat the cake, then there are no regrets in having bought the cake.
That’s all I’m saying.
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Posted in News and Events, Personal Stories 18 Comments »
May 27, 2009
It was 10:32 a.m. when the plane wheels hit the tarmac. Within seconds my iPhone was cued up and the news on the California Supreme Court’s decision on Prop 8 read just as I had suspected it would, “Court rules to uphold Prop 8; 18000 existing marriages to stand.” Though it was expected it was no less devastating. There was that moment when it hit me like a punch in the gut and I responded in typical fashion. I teared up. It made no difference that I was in an airplane, in an airport, or in a subway train, surrounded by gawking curious strangers. I was weepy which seemed a fairly healthy and normal initial response to another blast of injustice and inequality in the solar plexus.
But that was yesterday and today is today.
And today my cherished marriage remains legal and fully recognized within the State of California as D and I are among the 18000 whose marriages stand fully intact. D is my legal wife. I am hers. No re-wording of the California Constitution, no Proposition 8, and no vote by the slim majority of the people of this fine state were able to undo my “I do.”
From Yreka to San Diego I have the full legal backing of the State of California as determined by the California Supreme Court to call D my wife and speak about our marriage. Lou Sheldon can work himself into a lather, the Yes on 8 campaign leadership can kick and scream until they’re red in the face, and the Mormon Church can have conniption fits until the cows come home but so it is and so it will be. I am gay. I am married. Legally.
Let’s be really clear about what happened yesterday and it was simply this; the California Supreme Court ruled that Prop 8 was in fact an amendment and not a revision to the California Constitution and therefore they were compelled to rule in favor of upholding Prop 8 since 52% of the voting population voted in favor of it on the November ballot. Will of the people and all that.
But here’s what didn’t happen yesterday. The California Supreme Court did not rule that same-sex marriage is illegal or invalid. Remember, these are the very same seven judges who in last year’s 4-3 decision ruled that same-sex couples have a fundamental right to every advantage that straight couples do, including the right to call their legal union “marriage,” and so their decision to have the 18000 existing same-sex marriages stand affirms their previous determination and commitment. According to the highest court in this state, those 18000 same sex marriages are to be legally recognized by this state in language, status, and rights. Looking at yesterday’s ruling in another way, while the Court officially ruled 6-1 in favor of upholding Prop 8, they ruled just as clearly by 7-0 that same-sex marriages occurring from their initial decision last year until the November election are as legally binding as any heterosexual couple married before or since that time period. This is more than semantics or wishful thinking. These are the facts and are more articulately and fully outlined over at Daily Kos in an essay by Seneca Doane.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not wiping my brow with a relieved sigh because my marriage to the most amazing woman in the world remains legally intact. There is such a bittersweetness to this whole thing I can’t even tell you because even while D and I are understandably grateful for the legal affirmation and protection of our own marriage, we’re more than painfully aware that another class status has been thrust upon the greater GLBTQ community in California; those with the privileged status of legal marriage and those without. We go into this day with the full awareness that in the near future a young lesbian or gay male couple might meet one another for the first time, development a relationship, fall madly in love and want nothing more than to commit their lives to one another for the rest of their days. They might choose to express this commitment to one another in marriage as D and I have done, only they won’t be allowed to do so because the amended language of the California Constitution excludes them from the right to legally marry. This exclusion is now made all the more discriminatory and unfair for them because not only are heterosexual couples allowed to have what they cannot but so are 36,000 other gay and lesbians.
But one day, they will be allowed to marry. Just like anyone. Just like us. We won’t stop moving forward until we arrive at that place where all people are treated with dignity and equality under the law, and with hope and determination justice and equality are inevitable. A sure thing. A done deal.
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Posted in News and Events 10 Comments »
May 25, 2009
My beloved and I have spent the last five days in St. Louis where we came to attend the wedding of two SisterFriends, Stephanie and Michelle. The wedding was beautiful and moving as any wedding is when the couple are wildly in love with one another and the day was made all the more special in that there were a half dozen SisterFriends who had come from scattered corners of the country to support these two women as they begin married life together. This weekend allowed us all the incredible opportunity to meet familiar friends face to face for the first time and speaking for myself I can tell you I wasn’t disappointed. Every woman was as delightful and genuine in person as I’ve come to know them here, on their blogs, or over in the SisterFriends Community. Real women. True friends. Beautiful Sisters. And lovely lesbians one and all. It was both an honor and a kick in the pants to spend time with them. No doubt about it. My life has been enriched by the experience of being in their presence.
And now after a long weekend devoted to wedding bliss, D and I prepare to head home in the morning and while we’re at 35,000 feet in the air somewhere between the Land of the Cardinals and the West Coast, the California Supreme Court will announce their long-anticipated decision on whether to uphold or overturn Prop 8 and whether 18,000 existing legal marriages between same-sex couples will continue to stand or be rejected. It’s creating no small anxiety on our part to know we won’t even know the final decision until landing in San Francisco several hours after the official announcement but you can be sure 3.2 seconds after the planes tires touch the tarmack my iPhone will be cued in and searching for the results on Google News. Whatever the decision we’ll have just enough time to hop BART for home and unpack before heading back out to attend one of the Day of Decision events to be held in the evening. I hope with all my heart the evening will be an occasion for our community (GLBTQ people and justice-minded folks of all persuasions) to gather together in celebration, but if it be to express our grief, disappointment and continued commitment to move forward in the pursuit of full equality, then we’re ready for that too.
As we move into the day that queer and affirming Californians have been waiting for since November’s election, I’d invite your prayers that whatever the decision, God’s Spirit will be present in our gatherings; that the numerous faith leaders and clergy who are committed to equality would offer words of comfort, hope, and strength; and that peace and renewed dedication would fill the hearts of all who are personally touched by tomorrow’s decision in one way or another.
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May 19, 2009
I was reminded of a favorite quotation by Frederick Buechner this weekend related to calling, the quote being “The place God calls you to is the place where your deepest gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” I adore that quote and in a future post I’ll come back to it but not today. Instead, having being reminded of this favorite Buechner quote I remembered something else I read by him years ago on the topic of human sexuality. After rummaging through my book boxes I found the writing in Buechner’s 1993 book, “Whistling in the Dark: An ABC Theologized,” appearing in the book under H for Homosexual.
One of the many ways that we are attracted to each other is sexually. We want to touch and be touched. We want to give and receive pleasure with our bodies. We want too know each other in our full nakedness, which is to say in our full humanness, and in the moment of passion to become one with each other. Whether it is our own gender or the other that we are chiefly attracted to seems a secondary matter….
To say that morally, spiritually, humanly, homosexuality is always bad seems as absurd as to say that in the same terms heterosexuality is always good, or the other way round. It is not the object of our sexuality that determines its value but the inner nature of our sexuality. If (a) it is as raw as the coupling of animals, at its worst it demeans us and at its best still leaves our deepest hunger for each other unsatisfied. If (b) it involves some measure of kindness, understanding, affection as well as desire, it can become an expression of human love in its fullness and can thus help to complete us as humans. Whatever our sexual preference happens to be, both of these possibilities are always there. It’s not whom you go to bed with or what you do when you get there that matters so much. It’s what besides sex you are asking to receive, and what besides sex you are offering to give.
I’m not going to comment further on what Buechner has articulated so eloquently because nothing I could write in response would ever add a drop of greater truth to it.
If you aren’t familiar with Frederick Buechner then learn about him and once you’ve learned a little about him, read some of his marvelously crafted and prolific writing that will reveal even more about the man, the preacher, and the writer. My favored recommendations include: Listening to Your Life, Longing for Home: Reflections at Mid-Life, Secrets in the Dark: A Life Lived in Sermons, Beyond Words: Daily Readings in the ABC’s of Faith (a collection of three of Buchner’s best known including: Wishful Thinking, Peculiar Treasures, and Whistling in the Dark) and The Faces of Jesus: A Life Story.
Share your thoughts and reflections on the excerpt above, on anything else you’ve read by Frederick Buechner, or for that matter on anything that in recent days has graced your life and deepened your walk with God. The lines are open. Operators are standing by.
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Posted in Affirming Voices From Inside the Church, Human Sexuality, Sexual Ethics 11 Comments »
May 18, 2009
Now that I have your attention…
A rabbi gathered his students around him one day and asks, “How do you know when the night is almost past and day is about to break?”
“Rabbi, is it when you see a tree in the far distance and you can tell that it’s a tree?” ventured a young student.
“No,” answered the rabbi.
“Rabbi, is it when you see a dog coming just over the hill and can recognize that it’s a dog?” guessed another.
“No,” the rabbi said again. “It is when you look in the face of every man and every woman, and see that they are your brother and your sister. When you can do that then you know the night is nearly gone and a new day is about to dawn.”
Sometimes the differences between us are so great that instead of just finding ourselves traveling on different roads in different directions, we end up on the same road bound on a collision course with one another. At such times the impact jars us into forgetting what we hold most fundamentally true at the center of our being and faith. We forget that as human beings living on the same planet we are all bound and connected to one another in ways both seen and unseen. We forget that every human life without exception is of incalculable worth. We forget that everyone we see, those we love as equally as those we despise are rooted in the same Spirit and born of the same God. We forget because sometimes remembering asks too much of us. When we’re fed up or worn down to the bone we don’t want to remember that every man and woman is our brother and sister because that would lead us to do everything in our power to treat one another with human dignity and to extend understanding, forgiveness, compassion and love, even in those times when the other does not want, will not receive, or will never return what we have extended ourselves to give.
I’ve seen much in recent years coming from the church and directed at the church that’s been heartbreaking at best. It’s not only on the issue of homosexuality that we find ourselves opposing one another as humans and as Christians but if we were ever forced to choose a single issue as the paradigm for how divisive our conflicts can become and how bloody the battlefields can flow, homosexuality would come in head and shoulders above all the others. In no other conversation we engage in should we be more committed to being mindful in our dealings with one another and yet all the symptoms of massive forgetfulness are glaringly present among us and the other. And when I say us, I mean we who are GLBTQ Christians and we who are straight Christians who believe homosexuality to be sin and when I say the other I mean we who are GLBTQ Christians and we who are Christians who believe homosexuality to be sin.
We are all us. We are all the other. We all forget.
- We know we’ve forgotten when we’re convinced we possess the whole truth so that we have nothing to learn from the other.
As GLBTQ Christians we have nothing to learn from the ex-gay or the conservative Christian or anyone who does anything but fully support, affirm and embrace the life, ministry, and relationships of gays and lesbians. As evangelical Christians we have nothing to learn from the gay or lesbian Christian and their witness of faith as long as they continue to practice what we know to be sin. We have the real truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and the other is nothing more than uninformed, misled, or deceived.
- We know we’ve forgotten when we stop listening.
Because we have the whole truth in our back pocket there’s no need to listen to the other. Oh sure. We make every appearance of listening to them. We posture ourselves into listen position. We become silent. We lean forward. We look intently at the other and even throw in the nod of a head to emphasis what a good listener we are, but all the while our external body is clothed in signs of listening, our mind is racing to construct an eloquent rebuttal that will begin at the first pause in the conversation, a rebuttal that often has nothing to do with responding to what was just spoken but everything to do with what we want to be heard by the other.
- We know we’ve forgotten when we presume to know the others motives and intentions better than they do.
When the other says or does something we don’t understand and that makes no sense to us; when certain actions they engage in don’t seem to mesh with the words they proclaim, we seldom pause to wonder what’s going on with them or to ask them directly why it is they believe what they believe and even if we asked and paused long enough to listen, when all is said and done we’d just as likely tell them they’re wrong, that their motive wasn’t the love they profess guiding them but lust or intolerance. What they have to say in their own defense is rendered invalid in our assumptions. They are filled with hate. They are justifying their sin. They are motivated by lust and self. They are driven by ignorance and fear. They are intolerant. They have an agenda. We presume and they presume and in all the presuming we come to believe the worst in each other without ever coming to know their heart and the joys and fears and faith of the one who stands on the other side.
- We know we’ve forgotten when we ignore the individual in preference to the generalizations and stereotypes.
It can require too much effort to deal with the other side as a collective of individuals and to invest ourselves in hearing their side of the story and what has led them as individuals to believe what they believe and stand for what they stand. In the ongoing conflict we fall into a rhetoric of the masses, referring to the other as though they were a monolithic entity without heart and soul and spirit. The gays. The church. Those gays. Those conservative Christians. We make blanket characterizations and sweeping generalizations of the other, even as we grimace under each slanderous stereotype that’s hurled in our direction. We are all the pot calling the kettle black. At time we are all the one walking through life pointing out the splinters in our neighbor’s eye while the log jammed in our own gets more deeply lodged with every foot fall.
- We have forgotten when we label and name-call.
Once the generalizations and stereotypes are in place the name-calling ensues. They are homophobes, bigots, and haters. They are perverts, sinners, and sodomites. I have many faults (the emphasis on many is mine) only name-calling is not one of them. Maybe because I was one of those kids on the elementary playground who suffered the brunt of name-calling. Fatso. Four-eyes. Slowpoke. Maybe because I went out of my way in high school to avoid the hallway where the mean kids puffed up their own egos by verbally demeaning anyone who wasn’t quite as hip, slick and cool as they saw themselves to be. For whatever reason, I have no tolerance for name-calling on any side of any issue. Name-calling ends any chance at understanding. It closes every door on dialogue. It never builds up. It only belittles and destroys. It wounds the soul and spirit both of the one who hurls the name and the one who gets smacks in the face by it. Even if they don’t flinch at its impact, something has been taken from them and from us.
I’m not saying I don’t understand the pain, anger, and frustration that leads those of us who are GLBTQ Christians to name-calling. Sometimes the onslaught is so unrelenting in our pursuit of equality, the rhetoric so brutal and it’s consequences so tragic that there seems no outlet big enough to release our pain and indignation and so rather than turning to fist we turn to words. I get it. I understand it. But it doesn’t make it right. Not on either side. Ever. Not if we’re talking about Fred Phelps or Carrie Prejean or judges who find in favor of marriage equality or whatever queer most offends the sensitivities of the most non-gay affirming conservative Christian or political pundit.
When you look in the face of every man and every woman, and see that they are your brother and your sister…then you know the night is nearly gone and a new day is about to dawn.
Isn’t that what we all want? Don’t we really just want a new day to dawn upon this earth when all people are treated with dignity and every human being knows beyond a shadow of a doubt they are loved and worth that love? A day when the church swings open the doors to welcome everyone as their brother and their sister, giving no regard to the differences between them because all they can see is the grace of God and the love of Christ that embraces them all?
The only chance we have for such a new day dawning is if we stop forgetting what we really know in the marrow of our bones; that every man and woman is our brother and sister and our spirits are woven together within the fabric of the Spirit of God. If we could only practice mindfulness, being attentive to the Truth of the Spirit over the truth we each think that we alone possess.
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Posted in Christian Unity, Equality, Love and Grace 6 Comments »
May 15, 2009
Today marks the one year anniversary of when marriage equality came to California and a year later D and I and tens of thousands of other GLBTQ Californians and those who stand with us in justice are waking up every morning wondering if this will be the week when the decision of the California Supreme Court will come down that will determine whether marriage equality will be upheld or overturned.
For the 18,000 couples who were legally married last summer we not only wait to hear whether Prop 8 will be upheld or overturned but whether our marriages will continue to stand or will be subjected to state-enforced divorce, a term that makes me cringe every time I hear it. I In 2004 when the City of San Francisco passed a resolution in favor of marriage equality, gay and lesbian couples were allowed to marry and even though we understood the legal status of those marriages was uncertain at best we still went ahead and marched down to city hall. Several months those marriages were regretfully but expectantly ruled invalid.
But this time is not the same. Those 18,000 gay and lesbian couples were legally married and because a legal marriage can only be dissolved through divorce, the state will have to come in and force divorce or annulment (a word no more gentle) upon us. It’s heart-wrenching to even think about because what we’re talking about is more than a political issue. It’s more than about crossing the blurry line between separation of church and state. What this is really about are couples who not for a political agenda but for love went to city hall, filled out paper work, paid the fees, and stood in line to get their marriage license. It’s about couples who registered at Crate and Barrel, who scrimped and saved for their dream honeymoons and ordered flowers and tasted sugar-loaded trays of wedding cake. It’s about couples who wrote and re-wrote and tweaked their wedding vows and laid awake all night in anticipation of their wedding day, a day they never thought would come to them. It’s about couples who were married in parks and churches and on courthouse steps by clergy and clerks empowered with the authority of the state. It’s about couples whose young children stood beside them as they exchanged their vows and aging parents who hugged their gay son or lesbian daughter like any mother and father of any bride or groom would do. It’s about couples who danced the first dance at their reception, who laughed with joy on the happiest day of their lives and who looked eagerly ahead to their future together. It’s about couples who combined their resources, purchased and furnished homes, adopted each other’s children, and filed as spouses on last year’s state tax forms.
And it’s about couples who are weary of having their relationship relegated to the status of joint owners, domestic partners, or special friends. It’s about couples who are tired of remembering to include a stack of legal documents in their luggage every time they board a plane for another state or country where they might not be recognized as each others spouse in the case of a health emergency. It’s about couples who’ve spent far too much money jumping through legal hoops to protect each other financially at the time of their death and about couples who don’t have the money to insure such protections for themselves. It’s about couples who live with the fear of being separated and their family torn apart when the non-US citizen spouse is deported when their work visa runs out or the HIV-positive spouse who leaves the country for a family funeral and is prohibited from re-entering at customs. It’s about couples where one or both are serving our country in the military and are burdened down by the added stress of being found out and removed from service. It’s about young children who are told one of their mommies isn’t really their mommy and their family isn’t a real family. It’s about young children who never hear about families like theirs at school because families of other configurations refuse to allow theirs to be represented.
I’m crafting an emotional argument here. I realize that. Today’s not the day I’m in the mood to offer counterpoints to the oppositional arguments based on religion or politics. Another day but not today. Today this is about human lives and love. It’s about D and I and 17,999 other couples along with every other GLBTQ man and woman in California and their children and families. It’s about people. It’s about human dignity and respect. It’s about the true values of this nation; of liberty and justice for all and legal protection under the law for every man, woman, and child. It’s about treating our neighbor as we want to be treated and cherishing every person as a child of God and recognizing that the love of the human heart flows from the heart of God.
D and I have our marriage license from 2004 framed and mounted on a wall in our home and though it has been declared invalid we’ve never been able to bear the idea of taking it down. Our legal marriage license from 2008 is tucked away in a manila folder in the top drawer of a file cabinet. We want to frame it and display it on our wall but we’re waiting until we can stop living with the threat of state-enforced divorce tangling over it and instead celebrate another step in our lives toward full equality.
No matter what happens I’m committed to stay engaged in the work of justice. No matter what happens in the next few weeks here in California I know marriage equality is inevitable and that in my lifetime my marriage will be recognized, not only in Calfornia but at the federal level. If I have to live to be 113 years old to check the “married” box on my IRS form then I’m sticking around for that day to come. I’m just that stubborn. Until then I’ll continue to leave it to my tax accountant to fill out the marital status on my tax returns since no pen held in these two hands will ever deny my relationship with a check mark. It’s a principle thing. I’m just that stubborn.
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