Open Hands Vol 15 No 2 - Wholly Holy

Open Hands Vol 15 No 2 - Wholly Holy

15

2

1999

Fall

Being Whole as
God is Whole
Henri Nouwen's
Hidden Legacy
Erotic Ecotheology
First Gay Activist to
March on Washington
Evil Twins
Vol. 15 No. 2
Fall 1999
2 Open Hands
Vol. 15 No. 2 Fall 1999
Resources for Ministries Affirming
the Diversity of Human Sexuality
Open Hands is a resource for congregations
and individuals seeking to be in
ministry with lesbian, gay, and bisexual
persons. Each issue focuses on a specific
area of concern within the church.
Open Hands is published quarterly by
the Reconciling Congregation Program,
Inc. (United Methodist) in cooperation
with the Affirming Congregation Programme
(United Church of Canada),
the Association of Welcoming & Affirming
Baptists (American), More Light
Presbyterians, Open & Affirming Ministries
(Disciples of Christ), Open and
Affirming Program (United Church of
Christ), and the Reconciling in Christ
Program (Lutheran). Each of these programs
is a national network of local
churches that publicly affirm their ministry
with the whole family of God and
welcome lesbian and gay persons and
their families into their community of
faith. These seven programs—along with
Supportive Congregations (Brethren/
Mennonite), and Welcoming Congregations
(Unitarian Universalist)—offer hope
that the church can be a reconciled
community.
Open Hands is published quarterly.
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© 1999
Reconciling Congregation Program, Inc.
Open Hands is a registered trademark.
ISSN 0888-8833
Printed on recycled paper.
Publisher
Mark Bowman
Editor
Chris Glaser
Designer
In Print—Jan Graves WHOLLY HOLY
Finding Home 4
Toward an Erotic Ecotheology
J. MICHAEL CLARK
Holiness begins at home—in right relation.
Wholly Himself, Holy His Calling 10
An Interview with Bayard Rustin, An Architect of the SCLC
and the 1963 March on Washington
MARK BOWMAN
INTRODUCTION BY IRENE MONROE
Not everybody knows the contributions he made.
Whispers and Stares 15
Being Black and Lesbian at Church
TOLONDA HENDERSON
“That They May Be One” 16
Rejecting Binary Categories to be Whole and Holy
RACHEL METHENY
What if becoming “welcoming” buys into a system of
oppression?
Our “Evil Twins” 18
The Pitfall of Defining Ourselves over Against Others
RON COUGHLIN
“By defining everyone else, I thought I knew who I was.”
Remembering Rita Hester 19
The “T” in LGBT
IRENE MONROE
Media coverage ignored her truest self.
Be Whole as Your God in Heaven is Whole 20
ERIC H. F. LAW
The idolatry of believing God can’t welcome us all.
When We All Get Together 22
Aftermath of a Firebombed Synagogue
ALAN N. CANTON
United Methodists come through for Reform Jews.
Henri Nouwen’s Hidden Legacy 24
MIKE FORD
One life experience Henri Nouwen didn’t get to write about.
Fall 1999 3
Program Coordinators
Marilyn Alexander (Interim)
Reconciling Congregation
Program, Inc. (UMC)
3801 N. Keeler Avenue
Chicago, IL 60641
773/736-5526
www.rcp.org
Ron Coughlin
Affirming Congregation
Programme
(United Church of Canada)
P.O. Box 333, Station Q
Toronto, Ontario
CANADA M4T 2M5
416/466-1489
acpucc@aol.com
Ann B. Day
Open and Affirming
Program (UCC)
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Holden, MA 01520
508/856-9316
www.coalition.simplenet.com
Bob Gibeling
Reconciling in Christ
Program (Lutheran)
2466 Sharondale Drive
Atlanta, GA 30305
404/266-9615
www.lcna.org
Michael J. Adee
More Light Presbyterians
(PCUSA)
369 Montezuma Ave. PMB #447
Santa Fe, NM 87501-2626
505/820-7082
www.mlp.org
Brenda J. Moulton
Welcoming & Affirming
Baptists (ABC/USA)
P.O. Box 2596
Attleboro Falls, MA 02763
508/226-1945
http://users.aol.com/
wabaptists
Open & Affirming Ministries
(Disciples of Christ)
P.O. Box 44400
Indianapolis, IN 46244
http://pilot.msu.edu/user/
laceyj/
Editorial Advisory Committee
Vaughn Beckman, O&A
Howard Bess, W&A
Ann Marie Coleman, ONA
Bobbi Hargleroad, MLP
Tom Harshman, O&A
Dick Hasbany, MLP
Alyson Huntly, ACP
Bonnie Kelly, ACP
Susan Laurie, RCP
Samuel E. Loliger, ONA
Ruth Moerdyk, SCN
Tim Phillips, W&A
Caroline Presnell, RCP
Paul Santillán, RCP
Julie Sevig, RIC
Kelly Sprinkle, W&A
Margarita Suaréz, ONA
Judith Hoch Wray, O&A
Stuart Wright, RIC
Next Issue:
LIBERATING WORD—Interpreting the Bible
Welcoming Communities ............................... 32
Movement News ............................................ 32
Call for articles for Open Hands Summer 2000
The god of Violence
Theme Section: Suffering, sacrifice, wrath, and violence have been associated
with God. Those who have endured spiritual abuse or who have been scapegoated
by the church are particularly sensitive to this association. Surely this is not
the God we worship? How do we address all forms of violence—sexual, physical,
verbal, emotional, and spiritual— as Christians? How do we avoid playing
the victim and yet practice non-violence? 1000-2500 words per article.
Ministries Section: We continue to expand the themes of these columns, which
now may include: Welcoming Process, Connections (with other justice issues),
Worship, Spirituality, Outreach, Leadership, Health, Youth, Campus, Children,
and Parents. These brief articles may or may not have to do with the theme of
the issue. 750-1000 words per article.
Contact with idea by April 1, 2000 Manuscript deadline: May 15, 2000
Chris Glaser, Phone/Fax 404/622-4222 or e-mail at ChrsGlaser@aol.com
991 Berne St. SE, Atlanta, GA 30316-1859 USA
MINISTRIES
Connections
Walking for Love and Justice 26
Farmworkers and Lavender People
DEETTE WALD BEHGTOL
Welcoming Process
Consider An Inter faith Resource Fair 27
JEFFREY A. MATTHEWS
Leadership
Justice Groups Building Bridges 28
DEBBIE ROBERTS AND ZANDRA WAGONER
Spirituality
My Soulforce Journey to Lynchburg 28
DOTTI BERRY
Outreach
International Gay Group Addresses Religion 29
TOM HANKS
SUSTAINING THE SPIRIT
My Song of Love is Unknown 31
A love poem to Jesus from the closet.
4 Open Hands
Tending Our Garden
The winter rainy season has set in,
as if weeks of cold rain on a garden
now laid to rest, or on trees barren
of their leaves, could somehow provide
the balance to long summer weeks of
withering heat when tomato plants
could not set fruit, when green beans
turned into leather breeches and grapes
into raisins on the vine (before we could
rescue either one), when even leaves on
the trees browned, folding up in despair
and falling prematurely in midsummer,
all our watering notwithstanding.
Fortunately, late summer did bring
enough respite for the garden and even
for some of the trees to catch a second
wind and to produce fruit and seed;
summer lengthened well into the fall,
with shirt-sleeve weather lasting past
Thanksgiving, until mid-December’s
sudden about-face brought our belated
first killing frost and, just as dramatically,
an ice storm to the mountain forests
only a few counties north of us. The
meteorological pendulum has been
swinging wide to maintain some sort
of balance— El Niño, La Niña, killer tornadoes
in north Georgia, devastating
hurricanes through the poorest nations
in our hemisphere, Haiti and Georges,
Honduras and Mitch—and we cannot
help but wonder whether collective
human ecological imbalancing has in
some way precipitated such seemingly
apocalyptic extremes.
As the seasons of our garden bring
us full circle, I realize my own thinking
has come full circle as well, toward what
I increasingly think of as an erotic
ecotheology, a firm conviction that the
erotic and ecological are intertwined.
If the erotic is essentially that urge into
relationship, that urge which ultimately
requires us to develop right-relation
(both sexual and social justice), surely
the very relationality of our embeddedness
in ecosystemic life requires that we
extend our erotically-informed ethics of
right-relation to all nonhuman life as
well. Likewise, I am also convinced that
we know the divine only in and through
our embodied, sensory, and sensuous
(and thus erotic) relationships with
other embodied lives both human and
nonhuman.
An utterly sensuous and relational
theology and ethical practice actually
reflects God’s own immanent eco-energies,
the thorough dispersion of the
Finding Home
Toward an Erotic Ecotheology
J. Michael Clark
Excerpted from “Harvest Home,” Ch. 7 of Erotic Ecology: Toward an Ethic of Right Relation,
a book in progress. ©1999, J. Michael Clark, Ph.D.
Fall 1999 5
imago dei, the pluriformity of incarnations,
yearning for justice as right-relation
at all levels of life. I have finally
come to realize, as well, that doing
erotic ecotheology is an embodied call
to integrate our sexual bodiliness and
our spirituality; it is a thoroughly bodily
demand, a sensuous project, requiring
our attention to all our senses, including
the erotic urges that draw us to another
human being, to a tree or a flower,
to our cats and dogs, to the scent-laden
night breezes that caress our bodyselves,
to a summer sunset or a midwinter
snowscape.
Deep in mid-winter we certainly find
ourselves rejoicing at the earth’s tenacity,
giving thanks for its bounty in spite
of extremes. As our ecosystem lies dormant,
we too rest, awaiting the arrival
of seed catalogues that begin the cycle
anew. It need not surprise my gentle
readers that I would bring my various
and multilayered, circling reflections
back around again to Bob’s and my
shared home, to our biodiverse and
ecosystemic home; I have done so before.
1 My starting point and resting
place remain our biodiverse, interconnected,
and interdependent home and
the ever expanding concentric circles
which dynamically constitute home
writ large: our yard and garden, our
neighborhood, our city, our region—up
to and including the whole godbodied
earth itself.
Tending Our Home—Earth
We are interwoven and interdependent
members of biotic systems
that are themselves members of
larger ecosystems. Because we are all in
fact embodiments or incarnations of sacred
diversity and pluriformity inrelation,
and because we humans especially
are called to be accountable
within these relationships—as we move
through the end of the twentieth century
and into the beginning of the
twenty-first, we surely need to recover
and to nurture not only a deepened
sense of rootedness, a more profound
and even spiritual sense of place, but
also a stronger, enacted commitment to
the land and to the diverse and interconnected
lives which dwell here with
us—to biosphere and geosphere, to
otherkind, even to the ancestral spirits
who may yet grace and protect our
places, our ground and grounding in the
world.
Perhaps we may come to understand
our careful gardening, as well as our
tending of nonfood plants and our caring
for both the wild and adopted critters
in our midst, as sacred actions inrelation
that affirm the intrinsic value
of every life, as holy and propitiatory
actions in humble exchange for those
deeply respected and valued lives who
are our necessary prey or whose fruits
we necessarily require if we are to live
and to thrive.
The root word of our ecologos, our
ecology, oikos means our home, our
habitat earth, Larry Rasmussen reminds
us; indeed, it encompasses the earth as
“a single vast household.”2 Multiply layered
in meaning, however, oikos also
entails our sense of place or rootedness;
it is “the experience of belonging somewhere
intimate to one’s bones” which,
unfortunately, Rasmussen adds, “eludes
most moderns.”3
At this millennial turning point in
time, our erotic ecology must call us
back to just such intimacy, to such athomeness
in place. Judith Plant has
observed that home is the “theatre of
our human ecology”4 and I, of course,
want to stretch that: Home is the theater
or starting point for all our ecology,
for deepening our relations with
other humans and with otherkind alike.
It is in our homes where we first learn
as children and relearn as adults to relate
to other human lives— to love and
care for parents, siblings, and grandparents,
for friends and spouses, for children,
grandchildren, and godchildren.
Extending this accountability in-relation
beyond that home engages us in
social justice. It is also in our homes
where we first come to marvel at and
to care for some special plant or a garden
full of plants, for some special tree
in its spring flowering and autumnal
coloring, or for some special pet—a
parakeet or a goldfish, a cat or a dog.
Extending this accountability in-relation
beyond that home engages us in
ecological justice.
Because all our relational lives begin
at home, in our neighborhoods and our
communities, our ecosocial justice actions
also begin in and from our particularity:
“One cannot do something
except locally, in a small place,” writes
Rasmussen.5 Sallie McFague concurs,
insisting not only that we must “weave
together the fabric of social justice and
ecological integrity in particular places,”
but also that love itself actually “begins
with the nearby, the particular, the
known, and grows gradually outward
as the interlocking connections between
different forms of need, discrimination,
and oppression become evident.”
6 “We are more likely…to love
nature,” McFague continues, “if we love
one small bit of it, …by loving particular
places [and experiencing] particular,
local, available bits and pieces of nature.”
7
Homelessness
The very concept of “home” is already
such a powerful one for us
in the West that we wrestle, both
intellectually and socially, with its apparent
opposite—homelessness. A senior
student’s recent independent
study—a project undertaken in response
to a philosophical forum the previous
term that, however unintentionally,
ended up treating the urban homeless
primarily as merely inconvenient objects
in the cityscape—recently demonstrated
the extent to which our Western
constructions of “home” have also
led us to construct the category of
“homelessness” as yet one more Other.
We have too narrowly conceptualized
homes as human structures—as
I am…convinced that we know the divine
only in and through our embodied, sensory,
and sensuous (and thus erotic) relationships
with other embodied lives both
human and nonhuman.
6 Open Hands
rooms, apartments, lofts, and houses.
Even in our highly mobile society, we
do not consider one’s personal shopping
cart full of all one’s personal belongings
a “mobile home.” We do not
understand how a specific park bench
or interstate bridge pylon under which
one sleeps every night can give one a
“sense of place.” We have not appreciated
the possibility that, even without
a structure per se, one can still have a
neighborhood for one’s home: For
nearly fifteen years I have watched the
same woman daily walk back and forth
through the same neighborhood with
her styrofoamed morning coffee. Is this
neighborhood not her home?
Because we have not understood
these kinds of connections or relations,
we have also not imagined
that regular attendance at
a particular cold weather shelter
or a specific community
soup kitchen could constitute
a kind of home, a place of human
kinship. Ultimately, my
student argued, because we
have too narrowly defined both having
and not having a home, and because
we have constructed the “homeless” as
a faceless, primarily male, and homogenous
Other, we have failed in our efforts
to provide even basic human services,
whether public restrooms or
accessible and continuous public education
for homeless children.8
Rasmussen has also perceived the
ecological and economic justice connections
in his own, even broader interpretation
of homelessness. Whether
caused by Western style economic imperialism
over the poor or simply by
the technological mobility and job-related
rootlessness of the rich, the turn
of the century is for many Americans a
period of “homelessness of both spirit
and place,” a period also characterized
by “deprivation and alienation through
the destruction of home as habitat and
the economic, cultural, and spiritual
uprooting of people from their [ecosystemic
and relational] homes.”9
Toward an Erotic
Ecotheology
The ecological homelessness of
marginalization constitutes the
very conditions of life for any excluded
and/or devalued people, such as gay
people who are ghettoized for our biological
failures to produce another generation
of future consumers, for our
resistance to the heterosexist economics
of (re)production. Conversely, I’ve
also realized that engaging in any
stereotypically excessive gay consumerism,
whether of material goods and
objects or of (objectified) sex itself, is
to accede to the very economics of injustice
that keeps us excluded from a
felt sense of belonging, of being at home
within the biodiverse earthgarden of
God’s body.
We human beings, especially we
human beings of the privileged first
world, must enact and create and take
responsibility for that for which we
hope. Because no one else will do it for
us, we must create the ecological, social,
and sexual justice of an erotic
ecotheology. We alone must restore our
earthly home(s). To embody and to live
out the hope and justice of an erotic
ecology also means that where we make
our home(s) must also be a location or
site of ongoing metanoia (about face,
conversion) in the relational and transformative
dunamis (power, miracle) of
the very web of life.
By focusing on the human scale of
our specific homes and neighborhoods,
we may resist the oppressive forces of
globalization that otherwise appear too
large for us to affect. “A sustainable
world can be put together only from
the bottom up,” Rasmussen insists, with
“communities and communities of
communities”; moreover, “easier and
simpler,” or smaller and more localized,
“is better [and], with room for error,
favors sustainability.”10 His hopefulness
here is interwoven with his confidence
that people can be astute enough at the
local level of our homes and communities
to discern and to make ecologically
informed and earth-wise choices.
We can discern when—without megacorporate
direction or interference—
local approaches to problems are most
appropriate and/or when more global
solutions are necessary:
Oceans, genetic diversity, climate,
the ozone level, and even forests
and other global commons…must
be treated as such.
Fall 1999 7
But…food, shelter, livelihood, and
other needs that can be met on a
community and regional basis,
with indigenous resources, talents,
and wisdom, should be met
there.11
Crucifixions Without
Supernatural Rescue
As I have read and studied, written
and reflected, across one specific
cycle of seasons in our particular home
and garden, a place which so dearly belongs
within the larger garden of this
sacred earth—from the arrival of one
year’s seed catalogues to the bitterly
cold, midwinter arrival of a new year’s
worth of similar springful promise—I
have also been engaged in preparing
and teaching various materials whose
synchronicity in my life now appears
to punctuate my erotic ecology. My previous
ruminations on the problem of
suffering, on the absence of supernatural
rescue from tragedy and on human
responsibility for creating justice,12 are
being further qualified by my ongoing
interactions with students in several
courses.
As we explore contemporary Judaism,
for example, I am reminded that
Elie Wiesel finds God hanging limp and
childlike on a Nazi gallows,13 even while
students focusing in another course on
the historical Jesus and the Christologies
in our Western history and culture
wrestle with the injustice and the
meanings of Jesus’ own crucifixion as
another site of the suffering God. The
conflation of Jewish theodicy and
Christianity’s crucifixion motif take a
peculiar turn in this second course, as
well, when Chaim Potok shows us an
ultra-orthodox Hasidic Jewish artist
who paints a crucifixion scene, arguing
that “there was no aesthetic mold in his
own religious tradition into which he
could pour a painting of ultimate anguish
and torment.”14
These recurring epiphanies of divine
presence embodied at sites of godforsakenness
seem painfully trivialized,
however, by the phenomenon permeating
American Christianity— as seen in
yet another concurrent course— of
preaching “Christ crucified”: The suffering
God is canceled in popular religion
by the rescuing God of Easter
morning; the tragic suffering of real,
this-worldly lives to a Holocaust, to
pogroms, to ancient Roman occupation
or modern colonialization is obliterated
by the otherworldly salvation of individual
believers in that same rescuing
moment. I am stupefied, for surely the
impetus for achieving justice as rightrelation
goes a-begging when we too
quickly dismiss the Nazi gallows, the
lynching tree, the cross, or any other
crucifixion.
In short, I believe we can radicalize
McFague’s contention that nature as
ecosystemically interwoven life is “the
also poor.”15 From the standpoint of an
erotic ecology, I believe we must also
argue that nature is also crucified.
✞ The Jewish child hanging on the Nazi
gallows is clearly crucified.
✞ The young black man swinging from
a mid-1950s southern oak is crucified.
✞ The lesbian couple slain on the Appalachian
Trail is crucified.
✞ The gay college student beaten and
tied to the cross-ties of a cold Wyoming
fence is crucified.
✞ The gay Alabamian beaten and
burned on a pyre of tires is crucified.
But, crucifixions do not end with these
too obvious examples.
✞ The indigenous nation forced to
march a trail of tears to resettlement
on lands devoid of ancestral spirits
and barren of agricultural possibilities
is also crucified.
✞ The two-thirds world family whose
qualitatively rich subsistence lifestyle
has been forcibly replaced by the real
material poverty of the globalizing
monetary economy is also crucified.
Yet, I want to go further still, to insist
that crucifixions are not limited to humans
alone:
✞ Any species facing a humanly-induced
extinction is also crucified.
✞ The old-growth forest destined for
decimation and the urban trees
cleared for a parking deck are also
crucified.
✞ The imprisoned calf doomed for
vealdom is also crucified.
✞ The dog or rabbit whose body is routinely
subjected to cosmetics testing
and the chimpanzee whose body is
routinely subjected to AIDS vaccine
testing are also crucified.
✞ The mink whose objectified dead
body will adorn a more privileged
human body and the cow whose
commodified skin will dress the automobile
interior of that same privileged
person are both also crucified.
✞ Our ground level ozone-laden air,
our shrinking wetlands, and our virtually
undrinkable polluted waterways
are also crucified.
And, only we human beings can stop
these crucifixions. If there is to be a
spring renewal for this planet, we must
stop these crucifixions.
If the Holocaust, the lynching tree,
a Wyoming fence, or the cross itself
point us to the “ultimate anguish and
torment” of the divine in godself, then
we must also find in that point of simultaneous
absence and presence, of
godforsakenness and divine empowerment,
the motivating faith to put a stop
to ecological, social, and sexual injustice.
An erotic ecology demands such
faith-in-action, such accountability inrelation,
unless we are willing to forfeit
God’s body as our biodiverse and relational
home. Such faith is possible; such
hope can be made true. Because “God
[is] the great relation of all relations of
the universe,”16 God not only composts
everything,17 but that composting yields
new life— if we take responsibility.
God is not a supernatural rescuer, but
the natural energy and fecundity of
right-relation, dependent upon our
embodied accountability in-relation,
our willingness to strive for eco-social
justice. God will not intervene to save
the world from the disasters of human
frivolity and greed. Granted, doing
erotic ecology may not “save the
world,” either. It may, however, redirect
our energies to divine presence in
certain important starting points in our
homes and our communities and wherever
we enact our respect and gratitude
for human diversity and biotic diversity,
for interconnectedness and interdependence.
Because we are all in this
together and the whole of life is sacred.
8 Open Hands
We are all in this together and the
whole of life is sacred.
J. Michael Clark, Ph.D., (pictured here
with Little Bit) is the author of Defying
the Darkness: Gay Theology in the Shadows
(Pilgrim Press, 1997) and Doing the
Work of Love: Men and Commitment
in Same-Sex Couples (Men’s Studies Press,
1999). He teaches at Georgia State University
in Atlanta and Agnes Scott College
in adjacent Decatur. He lives near downtown
with his spouse Bob McNeir and their
ecosystemic family of dogs, birds, fishpond,
and flower and vegetable gardens.
Notes
1J. Michael Clark, Beyond our Ghettos: Gay
Theology in Ecological Perspective (Cleveland:
Pilgrim Press, 1993), pp. 87-93, and, An
Unbroken Circle: Ecotheology, Theodicy, & Ethics
(Dallas: Monument Press, 1996), pp. 161-
177.
2Larry L. Rasmussen, Earth Community, Earth
Ethics (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1996),
pp. 9, 24, cf., p. 91.
3Ibid., p. 96
4Judith Plant, “Searching for Common
Ground: Ecofeminism and Bioregionalism,”
Reweaving the World: The Emergence of
Ecofeminism (I. Diamond & G.F. Orenstein,
eds.; San Francisco: Sierra Club Books,
1990), p. 160.
5Rasmussen, p. 94.
6Sallie McFague, Super, Natural Christians:
How We Should Love Nature (Minneapolis:
Augsburg Fortress Press, 1997), pp. 154, 163.
7Ibid., pp. 22-23, cf., pp. 43, 154, 155.
8Danielle Munoz, “Homelessness is in the
Eyes of the Beholder” (15 October 1998),
and, “The Effects of Homelessness on the
Education of Children: An Annotated Bibliography”
(7 December 1998), unpublished
papers for RelS 4950 (“Directed Reading:
Homelessness and Ecotheology”), Georgia
State University, Atlanta, fall semester 1998.
9Rasmussen, pp. 96, 95.
10Ibid., pp. 343, 340.
11Ibid., p. 337.
12Cf., J. Michael Clark, Defying the Darkness:
Gay Theology in the Shadows (Cleveland: Pilgrim
Press, 1997), pp. 87-96.
13Elie Wiesel, Night, trans. S. Rodway (NY:
Avon Books/Discus, 1969), pp. 9-10.
14Chaim Potok, My Name is Asher Lev (NY:
Fawcett Crest, 1972), p. 313.
15McFague, p.6.
16Rasmussen, p. 354
17Catherine Keller, Apocalypse Now and Then:
A Feminist Guide to the End of the World (Boston:
Beacon Press, 1996), p. 310.
18Rasmussen, p. 352.
19Kathleen M. Sands, Escape From Paradise:
Evil & Tragedy in Feminist Theology (Minneapolis:
Augsburg Fortress Press, 1994), p.
169.
That is the faith I share with my
many sources and my wise teachers and
students, a counter-apocalyptic faith
perfectly captured by Rasmussen as
well:
Faith…acts with confidence that
the stronger powers in the universe
arch in the direction of sustaining
life, as they also insist
upon justice. Worldweariness is
combated by a surprising force
found amidst earth and its distresses.
…The religious consciousness…
that generates hope and a zest and
energy for life is tapped in life itself.
18
Celebrate Good Friday, commemorate
the Shoah, but do not wait for God
to do it for us. Do not wait for miracles
or messiahs, Moses or Christ. Make
Pesach by making liberation and social
justice happen. Make Easter by nurturing
spring life and making eco-justice
happen. “Make life go on”19 in the sacred
Circle of Life, the Sacred Hoop. Le
Chaim.
AD
Fall 1999 9
AD
10 Open Hands
Few of our present readers were subscribers
when this interview with
Bayard Rustin first appeared in the
Spring, 1987, issue of Open Hands
(Vol. 2, No. 4), the year of his death. It
fits so well our theme of connecting the
“isms” (racism, heterosexism, sexism,
classism, ableism, and other “isms”)
that we reprint it here. This time it is
introduced by Irene Monroe, whose
column “The Religion Thang” highlighted
this gay African American civil
rights activist in the May 5, 1999 issue
of In Newsweekly, a LGBT New England
newspaper.
Introduction
For decades now, Black History
Month has rarely acknowledged
or celebrated the contributions and
achievements of its lesbian, gay, bisexual,
and transgender people. Just
like white American history, black history
would lead you to believe that
the only shakers and movers were
heterosexuals.
However, for proudly a decade
now the African American lesbian,
gay, bisexual, and transgender
community of New England has
celebrated one of its shakers and
movers of history: Bayard
Rustin (1912-1987). Every year
a community breakfast is held
in his honor and sponsored by
the AIDS Action Committee of
Massachusetts. This year’s event took
place April 24 at the JFK Library in Boston.
For most African Americans, heterosexuals
as well as queers, they do not
know who Bayard Rustin is.
For example, Dr. Nancy Norman,
director of women’s health at the
Fenway Community Health Center, said
she “…didn’t know who he was until
the breakfast, which gives importance
to his place in the civil rights movement.”
Born in 1912, the Quaker-settled area
of West Chester, Pennsylvania, one of
the stops on the Underground Railroad,
is the place of Bayard Rustin’s beginnings.
A handsome six-footer who possessed
both athletic and academic
prowess, Rustin is most noted as the
strategist and chief organizer of the
1963 March on Washington that catapulted
the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King
Jr. onto a world stage.
Rustin played a key role in helping
King develop the strategy of non-violence
in the Montgomery Bus Boycott
(1955-1956) which successfully dismantled
the long-standing Jim Crow
ordinance of segregated seating on public
conveyances in Alabama.
In the civil rights movement, Bayard
Rustin was always the man behind the
scenes and a large part of that had to
do with the fact that he was gay. As
Albert Shanker, president of the American
Federation of Teachers and friend
of Rustin, stated in a review on Jervis
Anderson’s biography, Bayard Rustin:
The Troubles I’ve Seen, Rustin “…was a
quintessential outsider—a black man, a
Quaker, a one-time pacifist, a political,
social dissident, and a homosexual. Because
of their own homophobia, many
African American ministers involved in
the civil rights movement would have
nothing to do with Rustin, and they
intentionally rumored throughout the
movement that King was gay because
of his close friendship with Rustin.”
Where most queers query about their
sexual orientation by engaging in acts
of compulsory heterosexuality, Rustin
queried his queerness by engaging in
acts of public gay sex which led to his
arrest and conviction for violating California
state lewd-vagrancy laws.
Wholly Himself,
Holy His Calling
An Interview with Bayard Rustin,
An Architect of the SCLC and the 1963 March on Washington
by Mark Bowman Introduction by Irene Monroe
“It is not prejudice to any one group that is the problem,
it is prejudice itself that is the problem.”
—Bayard Rustin
Fall 1999 11
In a letter to a friend explaining his
predilection toward gay sex, Rustin
wrote, “I must pray, trust, experience,
dream, hope, and all else possible until
I know clearly in my own mind and
spirit that I have failed to become heterosexual,
if I must fail, not because of
a faint heart, or for lack of confidence
in my true self, or for pride, or for emotional
instability, or for moral lethargy,
or any other character fault, but rather,
because I come to see after the most
complete searching that the best for me
lies elsewhere.”
Prior to the Stonewall riots in 1969,
very few lesbian, gay, bisexual, and
transgender African Americans were
open about their sexual orientation. For
the most part, many of us resided under
a cloud of intentional ambiguity or
blatant denial. The reprisal of being
queer and African American often led
to community scorn by our residents,
public humiliation by our fire and brimstone
preachers, and the denunciation
of true blackness by our black militants.
The price of being black and queer
in a racist society is unquestionably difficult.
However, to be black and queer
within your communities very seldom
leads to total excommunication, but it
does quite frequently lead to social and
emotional alienation.
As resident aliens, black queers too
often live a bifurcated existence within
their communities. Their black skin
ostensibly gives them residence in their
communities, but their sexual orientation
most times gives them eviction
from it. To be tangentially aligned to
our communities dangled our lives precariously
on a thin thread with the nagging
feeling of impending expulsion.
Bayard Rustin is an exemplar for all
lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender
people of African descent, and by extension
to all queers, because he was a
man of formidable courage. Courage is
a mental and spiritual orientation to
counter danger and opposition with
confidence and fearlessness. When imbued
with the spirit of God, it is a requisite
for justice and transformation in
the world, because it blesses not only
the possessor of it, but also the lives of
others.
We are all abundantly blessed for the
life of Bayard Rustin. His courage reminds
me of the verse in Hebrews 13:6,
which states, “…[W]e can take courage
and say, ‘The Lord is my helper, I will
not fear anything. What can human
beings do to me?’”
Irene Monroe is a lesbian African American
theologian who has written extensively
on African American gay and lesbian history,
African American sexuality, and anti-
Semitism in both the black Christian and
black Muslim communities. A sought-after
speaker on campuses and in religious forums,
she studied at Wellesley, Union
Theological Seminary (NY), and is a
Ph.D. candidate at
Harvard Divinity
School. She lives in
Cambridge, Massachusetts
with her
partner, Dr. Thea
James, an emergency
room physician.
The Interview
In West Chester, Pennsylvania, what did you absorb,
spoken or unspoken, about homosexuality in your
upbringing?
My early life was that of being a member of a
very, very close-knit family. I was born illegitimate.
My mother was about 17 when I was born, and,
consequently, my grandparents reared me. The
family members were largely Democrats, long
before most other black families. My grandmother
was one of the leaders of the NAACP; she had
helped found the Black Nurses’ Society and the black community
center.
There were two homosexual boys in high school that were rather flamboyant,
and the community, I think, looked down on their flamboyance much
more than on their homosexuality. …As far as my early life is concerned, there was one
other incident. There was one young man who was very highly respected in the community
that I can remember as a child hearing whispering about. But I never could put my finger on what it
was that made him, in the eyes of people, different. One of the reasons that this was confusing to me was that
he was highly respected— he was a member of the church, sang in the choir, played the organ, and seemed to
be such a responsible, talented, and charming person that I could never get quite what it was that was being
whispered about him.
12 Open Hands
I asked my grandmother once and
she said, “Oh, well, he’s just a little different
from other people and I wouldn’t
pay any attention to it.” On one occasion
this fellow was visiting our home,
and when he was leaving he put his
arms around me and kissed me (which
had never happened to me with a man
before). Later when I was discussing him
with my grandmother, I said, “You
know it’s very interesting, but this is the
second time that he has hugged me and
tried to kiss me.” My grandmother simply
said, “Well, did you enjoy it?” And
I said, “No, I felt very peculiar.” And
she said, “Well, if you don’t enjoy it,
don’t let him do it.” That’s all she said.
And that was the extent of it.
Now it was in college I came to understand
that I had a real physical attraction
to a young man. …We never
had any physical relationship but a very
intense, friendly relationship. I did not
feel then that I could handle such a
physical relationship. But I never went
through any trauma about coming out
because I realized what was going on. I
was also strong and secure enough to
be able to handle it. But I have always
sympathized with people who, for one
reason or another, go through the great
trauma that I never experienced. …
I think that a family in which the
members know and accept one’s lifestyle
is the most helpful factor for emotional
stability. [My family] was aware
that I was having an affair with [a] friend
from college, and they obviously approved
it. Not that anybody said, “Oh,
I think it’s a good thing.” But they
would say, “Friends have invited us over
for dinner tonight, and we told them
that your friend is here, and they said
it’s quite all right for you to bring him
along.” There was never any conflict.
And yet there was never any real discussion.
A few years later you moved to New
York City. The clubs in Harlem in the
1930’s and 1940’s were known as Meccas
for gay men and lesbians. Did you
interact in that world?
Well, Harlem was a totally different
world than I had known. When I came
to New York, I lived with a sister (really
my aunt) who lived on St. Nicholas
Avenue, which was at that time the
main thoroughfare of black New York
aristocracy— it was called Sugar Hill.
That’s where the black doctors, lawyers,
professionals, and ministers lived. In the
black upper class there were a great
number of gay people. So long as they
did not publicize their gayness, there
was little or no discussion of it. A number
of the poets, artists, musicians were
gay or lesbian. And the clubs paid little
attention. In that early period there were
few gay clubs because there didn’t need
to be. The gay clubs came later, with
WW II and after. I think that the black
community has been largely willing to
accept its gay elements so long as there
not openly gay. It was later when the
gay clubs came, and gay men and lesbians
wanted the right to come out of the
closet, that I think the black community
became quite as intolerant as the
white community.
Why is that, in your estimation? What
caused the resistance to acceptance?
I think the community felt that we
have, as blacks, so many problems to
put up with, and we have to defend
ourselves so vigorously against being
labeled as ignorant, irresponsible,
shufflers, etc.—there’s so much prejudice
against us, why do we need the gay
thing, too? I remember on one occasion
somebody said t me, “Goodness
gracious! You’re a socialist, you’re a
conscientious objector, you’re gay,
you’re black, how many jeopardies can
you afford?” I found that people in the
civil rights movement were perfectly
willing to accept me so long as I didn’t
declare that I was gay.
It was amongst the Fellowship [of
Reconciliation] people that there was
hypocrisy— more so-called love and affection
and nonviolence toward the
human family, but it was there that I
found some of the worst attitudes to
gays. I experienced this personally after
I’d been released from working with
the Fellowship when I was arrested in
California on what they called a “morals
charge.” Many of the people in the
Fellowship of Reconciliation were absolutely
intolerant in their attitudes.
When I lost my job there, some of these
nonviolent Christians, despite their love
and affection for humanity, were not
really able to express very much affection
to me, whereas members of my
family (a couple of them had actually
fought in the war) were loving, considerate,
and accepting. So there are times
when people of goodwill may find it
difficult to maintain consistency between
belief and action. This can be very
difficult for some people when faced
with a homosexual relationship.
Later, in the early 60’s, Adam Clayton
Powell threatened to expose you, and J.
Strom Thurmond did make accusations
against you. Did you experience
many other incidents like these?
Yes, for example, Martin Luther
King, with whom I worked very closely,
became very distressed when a number
of the ministers working for him
wanted him to dismiss me from his staff
because of my homosexuality. Martin
set up a committee to discover what he
should do. They said that, despite the
fact that I had contributed tremendously
to the organization (I drew up
the plans for the creation of the Southern
Christian Leadership Conference
and did most of the planning and
fundraising in the early days), they
thought that I should separate myself
from Dr. King.
[A. Phillip] Randolph [an organizer of the 1963
March on Washington] said, “Well, well, if
Bayard, a homosexual, is that talented—and I
know the work he does for me—maybe I
should be looking for somebody else
homosexual who could be so useful.”
Fall 1999 13
This was the time when Powell
threatened to expose my so-called homosexual
relationship with Dr. King.
There, of course, was no homosexual
relationship with Dr. King. But Martin
was so uneasy about it that I decided I
did not want Dr. King to have to dismiss
me. I had come to the SCLC to
help. If I was going to be a burden I
would leave— and I did. However, Dr.
King was never happy about my leaving.
He was deeply torn— although I had
left the SCLC, he frequently called me
in and asked me to help. While in 1960
he felt real pressure to fire me, in 1963
he agreed that I should organize the
March on Washington, of which he was
one of the leaders.
In June of 1963, Senator Strom
Thurmond stood in the Congress and
denounced the March on Washington
because I was organizing it. He called
me a communist, a sexual pervert, a
draft dodger [Rustin spent two years in
Lewisburg Penitentiary as a conscientious
objector during WW II, later 30
days on North Carolina chain gang for
his participation in the first Freedom
Ride in the South.], etc. The next day,
Mr. A. Phillip Randolph [president of
the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters]
called all the black leaders and said,
“I want to answer Strom Thurmond’s
attack. But I think we ought not to get
involved in a big discussion of homosexuality
or communism or draft-dodging.
What I want to do, with the approval
of all the black leaders, is to issue
a statement which says: ‘We, the black
leaders of the civil rights movements
and the leaders of the trade union movement
and the leaders of the Jewish, Protestant,
and Catholic church which are
organizing this march have absolute
confidence in Bayard Rustin’s ability,
his integrity, and his commitment to
nonviolence as the best way to bring
about social change. He will continue
to organize the March with our full and
undivided support.” He said, “If any of
you are called, I do not want any discussion
beyond that—Is he a homosexual?
Has he been arrested? We simply
say we have complete confidence
in him and his integrity.” And that’s
exactly what happened.
Someone came to Mr. Randolph
once and said, “Do you know that
Bayard Rustin is a homosexual? Do you
know he has been arrested in California?
I don’t know how you could have
anyone who is a homosexual working
for you.” Mr. Randolph said, “Well,
well, if Bayard, a homosexual, is that
talented— and I know the work he does
for me— maybe I should be looking for
somebody else homosexual who could
be so useful.” Mr. Randolph was such a
completely honest person who wanted
everyone else also to be honest. Had
anyone said to him, “Mr. Randolph, do
you think I should openly admit that I
am homosexual?” his attitude, I am
sure, would have been, “Although such
an admission may cause you problems,
you will be happier in the long run.”
Because his idea was that you have to
be what you are.
You were involved in many civil rights
groups in the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s. Did
any of them at least begin to internally
think about lesbian/gay rights?
After my arrest [in California in
1953], I tried to get the black community
to face up to the fact that one of
the reasons that some homosexuals
went to places where they might well
be arrested was that they were not welcome
elsewhere. I wanted to get people
to change their attitudes, but they always
made it personal. They would say,
“Well, now, Bayard, we understand—we
know who you are and we know what
you are, but you’re really different.” And
I’d say, “I don’t want to hear that. I want
to change your attitudes.” But there was
little action. Even now [in 1987] it’s very
difficult to get the black community
doing anything constructive about AIDS
because it is thought of as a “gay”
problem.
What ways did your being a gay man
affect the person that you are, the person
you have been?
Oh, I think it has made a great difference.
When one is attacked for being
gay, it sensitizes you to a greater
understanding and sympathy for others
who face bigotry, and one realizes
the damage that being misunderstood
can do to to people. It’s quite all right
when people blast my politics. That’s
their obligation. But to attack anyone
because he’s Jewish, black, a homosexual,
a woman, or any other reason
over which that person has no control
is quite terrible. But making my peace
and adjusting to being attacked has
helped me to grow. It’s given me a certain
sense of obligation to other people,
and it’s given me a maturity as well as a
sense of humor.
If you had to do it all over, if you had
to live life knowing what you know
now, would you want to be gay?
I think, if I had a choice, I would
probably elect not to be gay. Because I
think that I might be able to do more
to fight against the prejudice to gays if
I weren’t gay, because some people say
I’m simply trying to defend myself. But
that’s the only reason. I want to get rid
of all kinds of prejudices. And, quite
frankly, one of the prejudices which I
find most difficult is the prejudice that
some black homosexuals have to white
homosexuals, the prejudice that Oriental
homosexuals have to everybody but
Oriental homosexuals, and certainly the
tremendous amount of prejudice that
some white gay men and lesbians have
to blacks. And the reason this is sad to
me is not that I expect homosexuals to
be any different basically than any other
human being, but it is sad because I do
not believe that they know that it is not
“When one is attacked for being gay, it
sensitizes you to a greater understanding and
sympathy for others who face bigotry, and one
realizes the damage that being misunderstood
can do to people.”
14 Open Hands
prejudice to any one group that is the
problem, it is prejudice itself that is the
problem.
That brings me to a very important
point— people who do not fight against
all kinds of prejudice are doing three
terrible things. They are, first of all, perpetuating
harm to others. Secondly,
they are denying their own selves because
every heterosexual is a part of
homosexuality and every homosexual
is a part of this so-called straight world.
If I harm any human being by my bigotry,
I am, at the same time harming
myself because I’m a part of that person.
And, finally, every indifference to
prejudice is suicide because, if I don’t
fight all bigotry, bigotry itself will be
strengthened and, sooner or later, it will
turn on me. I think that one of the
things we have to be very careful of in
the gay and lesbian community is that
we do not under any circumstances
permit ourselves to hold on to any indifference
to the suffering of any other
human being. The homosexuals who
did not fight Hitler’s prejudice to the
Jews finally got it. Now they may have
gotten it anyhow. But when the Gestapo
came up the stairs after them, they
would have died knowing that they
were better human beings if only they
had fought fascism and resisted when
the Jews were being murdered.
Are you hopeful for the human race?
I have learned a very significant lesson
from the Jewish prophets. If one
really follows the commandments of
these prophets, the question of hopeful
or nonhopeful may become secondary
or unimportant. Because these prophets
taught that God does not require us
to achieve any of the good tasks that humanity
must pursue. What God requires
of us is that we not stop trying.
Mark Bowman, long-time leader of the
Reconciling Congregation Program and
publisher of Open Hands, helped found
the RCP in 1984 and served as its executive
director through July 1999. He lives in
Chicago and now
consults with local
and national nonprofit
organization.
You can e-mail Mark
at Markleby@aol.com
QTY BACK ISSUES AVAILABLE
___ Creative Chaos (Summer 1999)
___ Welcoming the World (Spring 1999)
___ Why Be Specific in Our Welcome? (Winter 1999)
___ A House Divided: Irreconcilable Differences? (Fall1998)
___ Bisexuality: Both/And Rather Than Either/Or (Summer 1998)
___ Treasure in Earthen Vessels—Sexual Ethics (Spring 1998)
___ We’re Welcoming, Now What? (Winter 1998)
___ From One Womb at One Table (Fall 1997)
___ Creating Sanctuary: All Youth Welcome Here! (Summer 1997)
___ Same-Sex Unions (Spring 1997)
___ Untangling Prejudice and Privilege (Fall 1995)
___ Remembering…10th Anniversary (Summer 1995)
___ The God to Whom We Pray (Spring 1995)
___ Reclaiming Pride (Summer 1994)
___ Aging and Integrity (Fall 1992)
___ Our Spirituality: How Sexual Expression and Oppression
Shape It (Summer 1992)
___ The Lesbian Spirit (Summer 1991)
___ Lesbian/Gay Reflections on Theology (Spring 1991)
___ Youth and Sexual Identity (Winter 1991)
___ The “Holy Union” Controversy (Fall 1990)
___ Journeys toward Recovery and Wholeness (Spring 1990)
___ Images of Family (Fall 1989)
___ The Closet Dilemma (Summer 1989)
___ Lesbian & Gay Men in the Religious Arts (Spring 1989)
___ Living and Loving with AIDS (Summer 1988)
___ Building Reconciling Ministries (Spring 1988)
___ Sexual Violence (Fall 1987)
___ Minorities within a Minority (Spring 1987)
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A Unique Resource on
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Concerns in the Church
for
Christian Education • Personal Reading
Research Projects • Worship Resources
Ministry & Outreach
Fall 1999 15
Last year I wrote a paper entitled
“Some of Us Are Still Brave: An
Exploration into the Self-Concepts
of Black Lesbians.” Drawing from
the literature on identity development
and information gathered from openended
interviews with ten women, I
explored how the process of racial identity
and sexual identity influence each
other as these women came to understand
who they were. Since this was an
exploratory study, I asked each woman
at the conclusion of the interview if
there were times or places in their lives
in which race and sexual orientation
intersected that we hadn’t yet discussed.
One woman, whom I called Rose,
answered immediately: religion. She
had grown up going to black churches,
but no longer felt comfortable there
because she had come out in the community
as a lesbian. It was more stressful
than spiritually calming for her to
be subjected to the whispers and stares
she encountered while worshiping
there. Attending services in a “gay
friendly” church, however, did not give
her that calm, either. The whispers and
stares were more discreet, but she still
felt them, for Rose found few other
people of color in these churches. No
matter where she went, she was always
justifying her existence, either as a gay
person in a black church, or as a black
person in a gay church. There were no
black gay churches in the area, so she
simply stopped going to church altogether.
Two years ago, four women of color
attending the National Gathering of the
United Church of Christ Coalition for
Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered
Concerns, myself included,
discussed the difficulties of finding time
and space to discuss our concerns
within a predominately white organization.
We decided to organize a People
Whispers and Stares
Being Black and Lesbian at Church
Tolonda Henderson
of Color Institute preceding the next
National Gathering.
Building on the connections we
made during that day-long event and
the discussions we had during the week,
the POC Institute presented a statement
outlining our concerns and the need for
a separate group. This caused much pain
within the gathered body, but for the
most part it was recognized that the
document was born of much pain. A
line item was added to the budget to
create a parallel organization with a
separate leadership and power structure
to nurture the needs of gay and lesbian
people of color within the UCC.
We are in the process of planning a
meeting in Cleveland next year. What
the Coalition recognized at its meeting
last June in Providence, Rhode Island
is that it is not enough to know someone
is gay to know how they need to
be nurtured within a Christian community.
Groups and organizations who
claim to represent the interests of gay
and lesbian people within the church
need to be aware that, to be blunt, not
all gay people are white. When people
do not or cannot recognize the different
concerns and needs of gay and lesbian
people of color, or gloss over the
differences in the experience of white
gays and lesbians and those who are
people of color, they are in effect denying
my very existence and quite possibly
the existence of those sitting next
to them each Sunday morning.
I would challenge any congregation
which is or is thinking about making a
commitment to gay and lesbian people
within their communities to look hard
at whether or not they are really serving
all gay and lesbian people. This may
be a long journey for some communities,
involving reflection on issues of
race in general. But these reflections are
necessary. Some may say they do not
need to be concerned about race because
there are not any people of color
in their congregations. To that I would
ask two questions. First, why not? Particularly
for those churches in neighborhoods
or communities where there
are people of color, it is important to
ask why none of these people choose
to fellowship with you. The second
question is, do you know the race of
the partners of all the gay and lesbian
people in your church? Those who are
white and dating people of color need
to know that they can bring their partners
to church functions, that their concerns
about children and family will be
addressed within the church. Without
being mindful of these two things, a
covenant of a congregation to be supportive
of gay and lesbian people will
not be as all embracing and true as it
could be. What I propose here is certainly
not easy. This does not mean,
however, that it can be ignored.
Tolonda Henderson is the assistant director
of admission at Connecticut College,
New London, CT. She attends the First
Congregational Church in Groton and is
a member of the UCC Coalition for LGBT
Concerns. If you are interested in receiving
a copy of “Some of Us are Still Brave: An
Exploration into the
Self Concepts of Black
Lesbians,” contact
Tolonda Henderson at
tjhen@hotmail.com for
more information.
16 Open Hands
I recently moved back to Indiana
after spending two years in the San
Francisco Bay area, where I served
in a United Methodist church. I soon
discovered that one of the main differences
between United Methodist
churches in the Midwest and those on
the west coast is the number of Reconciling
Congregations in the San Francisco
area. Even the church where I was
working—a church where the presence
of gay and lesbian persons was minimal—
was considering becoming Reconciling.
However, upon my return to Broadway
United Methodist Church in Indianapolis,
I learned that the congregation,
with a substantial ministry to persons
who claim the identity gay, lesbian, bisexual,
or transgender, did not want to
become a Reconciling congregation.
Even some of the gay and lesbian members
did not support such an initiative.
I began to ask why Broadway, which
proudly affirms the ministry and relationships
of gay and lesbian persons,
would not choose to become Reconciling.
I believe the answer might lie in a
new movement promoted by some in
the academic world.
This movement seeks to destroy rigid
binary categories (e.g., man/woman
straight/gay), which serve the interest
of the dominant group by excluding
some from the claim of normalcy. In
the binary, the first member (man and
straight) is recognized as primary and
dominant and the second member
(woman and gay) is accorded an inferior
status, becoming derivative of the
first member. In addition, the first member
can only be understood and can
only gain its power in relation to the
second member.
Within this system of thought, homosexuality
becomes a tool used by
those in power to establish the heterosexual
norm; heterosexuality needs
homosexuality to survive. Likewise,
patriarchy needs the two-gendered system,
for it survives on the notion that
women are imperfect reflections of
men. One way to end oppression is to
end the binary divisions. If there is no
longer an “other” (gay), there is no
longer a “subject” (straight). If there is
no longer “woman” or “man,” there is
no longer patriarchy. By acknowledging
the existence of more than two genders
or sexualities (transgenders being
one example) or by blurring or destroying
categories, we would no longer have
an established norm by which to define
or judge people who are different from
the norm.
This movement has emerged in response
to the tradition of essentialism,
whose advocates posit the naturalness
or biological determinism of homosexuality
(i.e., people are born gay/
straight, female/male). Instead of understanding
homosexuality as a natural
category, separate from heterosexuality,
we need to uncover how and why a particular
sexuality is expressed, produced,
and eventually defined in a particular
time period. For example, in biblical
times, sexuality was expressed according
to active (male role) and passive
distinctions (female role), which influenced
how one viewed homoerotic relations.
In our time period, sexuality is
based on binary oppositions with one
group claiming normalcy in its relation
to the other— now the deviant.
Many involved in the reconciling
and welcoming movements have advocated
essentialism and neglected the
critical work of analyzing systems of
oppression. The church must do more
than simply claim a welcoming stance
to all sexualities; it must unmask the
inner workings of repressive regimes,
which means moving beyond categories
and identities. Some people believe
that we must raise our children as neither
male nor female (according to their
genetic disposition) but allow the child
to decide his/her own gender or sexuality.
This notion is grounded on the
belief that gender and sexuality are
based on social conditioning and not
on genetics. But, as a friend of mine
once said, “It is easier to potty train the
world than to change it.”
By continuing to present evidence of
difference, we not only fail to analyze
the inner logic of repressive mechanisms
(the binary category), but we run
the risk of re-stigmatizing the repressed
group. The resurrection of the homosexual,
though serving to unmask prejudice
and the need for equal rights and
worth, becomes the “other,” differentiated
and classified against the heterosexual
norm. Indeed, by naturalizing
difference, the system of domination is
reproduced instead of debunked.
The difference system will always be
used by those in power to make the
claim that one will always be gay, different,
and therefore not the norm. It is
just their intention to create a climate
of fear and hatred toward anyone different
from themselves. Thus when
identity claims are made—“I am a lesbian”
or “we are a welcoming congregation”—
they may be recreating the
binary category that has been used to
oppress gays and lesbians.
“That They May Be
One”
Rejecting Binary Categories to be Whole and Holy
Rachel Metheny
Fall 1999 17
Whereas the reconciling and welcoming
movement made the gay and
lesbian person visible and inserted them
into the moral domain, it nonetheless
allowed the gay or lesbian to be used as
a tool by the repressive regime to render
gays and lesbians different and
therefore deviant. Thus, instead of being
invisible, the homosexual is now a
deviant. As a deviant, the gay and lesbian
is shut out of the moral domain
and the church and becomes fearful of
losing one’s family, job, and life. This
fear has been expressed by members of
Broadway, especially if Broadway was
to become a Reconciling congregation.
Instead of clinging to rigid sexual
identities, we need to move to the idea
of “shapeshifters” (those who can
change identities) or “tricksters” (those
whose sexuality is fluid and changing).
The “shapeshifter” has the intention of
confusing those in power. By confusing
the dominant group, one can no longer
define oneself or another as normative
or deviant. For example, if the actress
and comedian Ellen Degeneres continued
to “play the game” of “who am I?,”
skirting around her claimed sexual identity,
she might never have been ostracized
by Hollywood. When Ellen said,
“I am gay,” her sexuality became the
totality of her personhood.
Ellen and other lesbians are more
than women desiring erotic relations
with other women; they are Christians,
Buddhists, politicians, pastors, mothers,
African-Americans, and Asians. In addition,
lesbianism, in the heterosexual
world, is defined solely by the sexual
act, an act that is different and against
the norm. Lesbian relations are more
than a sex act; they involve parenting,
sharing dreams, and making life commitments
to another. Overall, a sexual
identity that is fluid and multifaceted
can stymie the workings of groups wanting
to outlaw homoeroticism by taking
away the power to define normal and
deviant.
From the first grade up to middle
school, I, along with a few others, had
to leave class to receive special attention
for speech impediments. I will always
remember the ostracism I felt each
time I had to leave class. Because I was
different, I was made to feel ashamed
and abnormal, as if I were an imperfection
of creation. These feelings are not
unlike the feelings experienced by those
who claim a sexual identity contrary to
the heterosexual norm.
I do not want to lessen the power
and pride that comes as a result of defining
oneself as a gay and lesbian person
or of a church defining itself as a
welcoming congregation. However, I
would hope that some day we can move
beyond the difference system and the
binary categorization that renders
people somehow imperfect or deviant
and reach a day when claiming to be a
welcoming congregation would sound
as absurd as a church needing to make
a public statement welcoming heterosexuals.
Broadway United Methodist Church
is more than a community of sexual
identities; it is more than a welcoming
and affirming place for all persons. It is
a moral and religious community that
foremost welcomes and celebrates the
diversity of persons and gifts God has
created and finds that each person is
indispensable to God’s ministry in the
world and church. Can it not be more
liberating, then, for a church to be recognized
as a diverse and welcoming
place without identifying itself as a reconciling
or welcoming congregation?
References:
Herrman, Anne and Stewart, Abigail. Theorizing
Feminism. Westview Press, 1994.
Nicholson, Linda, ed. Feminism/Postmodernism.
New York: Routledge, 1990.
Rudy, Kathy. Sex and the Church. Boston:
Beacon Press, 1997.
Seidman, Steven, ed. Queer Theory/Sociology.
Malden, Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers,
1996.
Rachel Metheny is an ordained United
Methodist pastor in the South Indiana
Conference, presently
ser ving Broadway
UMC in Indianapolis.
She is also working on
a Ph.D. in ethics at
Graduate Theological
Union in Berkeley,
California.
18 Open Hands
All my life I thought I knew who
I was. But I didn’t really. I just
knew who other people were,
and by knowing I was not one of
“them,” I thought I knew who “I” was.
But that doesn’t work for me anymore.
This is the way I used to think:
First, I knew that I was not a Jew.
That is how I was supposed to know
that I was a Christian. So we told stories
and jokes about Jews to make it clear
who they were so that we would know
we were not like them.
Next, I knew that I was not Catholic.
That is how I was supposed to know
that I was Protestant. So we told stories
and jokes about Catholics to make it
clear who they were so that we would
know we were not like that.
Then, I knew that I was not Anglican
or Baptist or Pentecostal. That is
how I was supposed to know I was
United Church. So we told stories and
jokes about them to make it clear we
were not like that.
I knew I was a boy because I was not
a girl, and we told stories and jokes
about girls. I knew I was English (living
in Quebec) because I was not French,
and we told stories and jokes about the
French. I knew I was Canadian because
I was not a foreigner and we told stories
and jokes about immigrants.
From my early teen years, I struggled
with my sexual orientation. However, I
had no role models and felt I was the
only one in the world with these feelings.
I had never heard the word “gay”
up until this time. So I joined in telling
jokes about those people— to make it
clear I was not like that.
We told stories about everybody. But
we didn’t tell stories about ourselves.
Why should we? We were just people.
By defining everybody else, I thought I
knew who I was. This worked fine as
long as all those other people acted like
they were supposed to act, according
to my stories. That is, my identity was
secure as long as they played their role
according to my script and acted out
my stereotypes and my prejudices.
But of course, they would not always
act like they were supposed to act. I met
Jews who didn’t act like Jews were supposed
to act, and all of a sudden I was
not sure of being Jewish or Christian.
And the first time I met a Baptist who
drank alcohol and an Anglican who
didn’t, it blew the whole thing.
As I began to accept myself, I discovered
I had a lot more questions than
answers. All my stereotypes and prejudices
did not fit my experience. Suddenly,
I realized that I had never given
much attention to who I was. So, lately,
I am taking to heart the old Socratic idea
of “know thyself.”
This is a new discipline that is not
taught in school, so I am engaged in a
whole new education process. I expect
to be struggling with this question right
up to and beyond the grave, and never
really have it all wrapped up. It’s exciting,
it’s scary, it’s full of growth potential
and it’s part of discovering who I
am.
Factions of the early church of
Corinth were also defining themselves
over against others— specifically, other
Christians. The Corinthians were fighting
over who were the real Christians.
Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
To the church at Corinth, Paul wrote:
Though I have enthusiasm and speak
in tongues, though I understand everything,
though I pray and move mountains,
though I work hard, if I have not
love, I am nothing.
It seems that when the people gathered
as a church, they began fighting,
because each was wrapped up in their
own understanding of their gifts, defining
themselves over against other Christians
with different gifts. The very gifts
they were given became the basis of
conflict in the church. Now what are
we to do?
Paul says: Don’t fight. I will show you
a more excellent way. Bring your gift.
Celebrate your gift, but go beyond it.
Each individual gift makes us different.
All the various people and various gifts
are needed to make the church whole.
We all have different gifts to share, but
we all have the common gift: the gift of
love and acceptance.
Ron Coughlin is a minister in the United
Church of Canada, working in its General
Council office in the area of lay ministry,
candidates for ministry, and internships.
He is the volunteer Aff irming
Programme coordinator and member of
Affirm United, an organization of individuals
and local groups across Canada
made up of gay men, lesbians, bisexuals
and their friends and family. Affirm
United began with a few people meeting
in Montreal in 1982 and has since provided
a safe place for people to worship, study,
and celebrate their
God given gifts. Affirm
United is a resource
to the United
Church for education
and dialogue.
Our “Evil Twins”
The Pitfall of Defining Ourselves Over Against Others
Ron Coughlin
The previous article by Rachel Metheny discusses the problem of “binary
categories.” Here is an example of how problematic “either/or” definitions
can be, excerpted from a sermon delivered in conjunction with a gathering
of Affirm United in the United Church of Canada.
Fall 1999 19
Misinformation about transgender
people in our
country is rampant and
egregiously offensive. This ignorance is
perpetuated by both the heterosexual
as well as queer communities, as seen
by the media coverage of Rita Hester, a
34-year-old African American transexual,
murdered last fall.
Ms. Hester was a male-to-female preop
transexual woman who was mysteriously
found dead inside her first floor
apartment in the Allston section of Boston
with multiple stab wounds to her
chest. The motive of her murder is still
in question. Needless to say, many of
us in the LGBT community are not ruling
out the possibility of it being a hate
crime.
However, the immediate crime at
hand in Rita Hester’s case was the media
coverage. Depictions of Ms. Hester
as “he,” or a “transvestite,” or as “William”
(her legal name), or as an enigma
that even her neighbors didn’t know
until the time of her death were damaging,
disrespectful, and demeaning to
the entire transgender community, and
keep transgender people constantly subject
to ridicule, confusion, ignorance,
and possible hate crimes.
A petition in remembrance of Rita
Hester states, “Transgendered people
need to be described with language that
is accurate according to lived social
reality. In Rita’s case, her acceptance in
the Allston/Brighton neighborhood
as a female is more important than
whether or not she had ‘legally’
changed her sex. The media’s failure to
use pronouns and descriptions consistent
with her social identity is inaccurate,
rude, and inexcusable.”
Very little is understood about
transgender people because they are
relegated to the fringes of society.
Crimes against transgender people often
go unnoticed or are seen as lesser
crimes. Many transgenders, because of
anti-trans hatred in this society, feel
most comfortable moving about their
lives in the night and out of the view of
the general public.
In fact, a flyer announcing a vigil for
Rita Hester stated, “For those who are
not comfortable with taking public
transportation (which unfortunately
includes most trans people I know)
some of the Jacques regulars have volunteered
to drive people.”
The Human Rights Ordinance in the
city of Cambridge is the first in this
country to include “gender expression”
in its list of rights of those to be protected
from discrimination. Also, it legally
defines gender beyond the limited
and inaccurate boundaries of physical
anatomy. Gender is defined in the
amendment as “the actual or perceived
appearance, expression, or identity of a
person with respect to masculinity and
femininity.”
The International Foundation for
Gender Education is the largest nonprofit
organization serving the transgendered
population nationwide. According
to IFGE the transgendered
“community is comprised of crossdressers,
transexuals, gender-benders,
anyone who does not identify with traditional
gender roles, and all who support
freedom of gender expression.”
Because transgender people are seen
and treated as outcasts, too often the
heterosexual population forgets or cannot
conceive of the idea that many
transgender people have loving families,
friends, and community. Nowhere
in any of the mainstream media coverage
of Rita Hester was her family mentioned.
Rita Hester is survived by her
mother, brother, and sister, all from
Connecticut, and the entire LGBT community
here in Boston.
I am still haunted by the words of
Hester’s mother, who spoke during the
vigil. When she came up to the microphone
during the speak-out portion of
the vigil at the Model Cafe, where Rita
was known, she repeatedly said in a
heartbroken voice that brought most of
us to tears, including me, “I would have
gladly died for you, Rita. I would have
taken the stabs and told you to run. I
loved you.” As the vigil proceeded from
the Model Cafe to 21 Parkvale Avenue
where Rita lived and died, Hester’s
mother again brought me to tears as she
and her surviving children knelt in front
of the doorway of Rita’s apartment
building and recited—as many of us
joined in—The Lord’s Prayer.
The vigil for Rita Hester was a visible
form of protest against anti-trans
phobia as well as a memorial to one of
our fallen warriors in the LGBT community
not only here in Boston but
nationwide. Whether or not we find
who killed Rita Hester, let us not let her
death be in vain, especially for those
who have fallen before her like Chanelle
Pickett, another African American
transexual murdered in 1995 whose
white killer was convicted of a lesser
crime—assault and battery— and not
murder.
Let us keep vigil— its Latin root vigilia
means night spent watching—against
hatred and violence, and let us always,
as is stated in Luke 12:35, “Be dressed
and read for action and our lamps
alight.”
Irene Monroe,
M.Div., named one of
Boston’s “50 Most Intriguing
Women” by
Boston Magazine, is a
doctoral candidate in
the Religion, Gender,
and Culture program at Harvard Divinity
School and a Ford Foundation fellow.
Remembering Rita Hester
The “T” in LGBT
Irene Monroe
20 Open Hands
Be Whole As
Your God in
Heaven Is Whole
Eric H. F. Law
Child 1: God loves me.
Child 2: God loves me too.
Child 1: How can that be?
Child 2: Why not?
Child 1: Because god loves me.
Child 2: That doesn’t mean god can’t love me.
Child 1: Yes, it does.
Child 2: Why?
Child 1: Because I’m older and god loved me first.
Child 2: That’s not fair.
Child 1: You don’t expect god to love me all these years
and then suddenly change his mind and love you
just because you show up, do you?
Child 2: Why can’t god love more than one person?.
Child 1: Of course god can do that. It’s just that god can’t
love you.
Child 2: Why?
Child 1: Because I don’t like you.
Child 2: What does that have to do with anything?
Child 1: If god loves me and I don’t like you, how can god
possibly love you?
Child 2: You’re mean.
Child 1: Say all you want but you won’t get god to love you.
Child 2: Why?
Child 1: Because I told him not to.
Child 2: You can’t tell god what to do!
Child 1: Of course I can. God and I are real buddies.
Child 2: I don’t think god likes being told what to do.
Child 1: You can if he loves you.
Child 2: I think you’re going to hell.
Child 1: What!
Child 2: God says, “Don’t judge lest you be judged.”
Child 1: Where did you hear that?
Child 2: It’s in the Bible. Since you judged me, I will tell god
to judge you and you are definitely going to hell.
Child 1: You can’t do that.
Child 2: If you can tell god what to do, so can I.
Child 1: But you don’t even know god.
Child 2: I don’t know your god, but I know mine.
Child 1: Are you saying there are two different gods?
Child 2: Yeah, one loves you and one loves me. And I don’t
think they get along in heaven.
Child 1: That’s because my god is better.
Child 2: No, my god is nicer.
Child 1: My god is stronger
Child 2: My god is smarter.
Child 1: My god is bigger.
Child 2: My god is prettier.
Child 1: Wait a minute! This doesn’t sound right.
Child 2: What doesn’t sound right?
Child 1: I thought there is only one god.
Child 2: Where did you hear that?
Child 1: It says so in the Bible.
Child 2: Then your god must be a fake.
Child 1: No, my god is the real one and your god must be
Satan.
Child 2: How dare you insult my god?
Child 1: You are going to burn in the eternal fire of hell,
Satan-worshiper.
Child 2: You are going to be chopped up into a million
pieces for insulting my god!
Child 1: I hate you.
Child 2: I hate you too.
Child 1: I’ll kill you.
Child 2: I’ll kill you first because the real god is on my side.
Child 1: No, you have Satan on your side— you will definitely
die first.
(They fight. One kills the other and goes on to argue with another
child of god.)
A Dialogue Between Two Children of God (A play)
Fall 1999 21
Different Faces of the Same God
Constructive dialogue with others who are different helps
people appreciate different concepts of God. In the process of
dialogue, we invite people to take the time to consider
another’s reality, and more importantly, another’s relationship
with God. In doing so, we discover different faces of the
same God. Instead of confining God, making God look and
act like us, we attempt to gain a greater vision of who God is.
We acknowledge that God is greater than me and you and
everything we know combined. We accept that God’s creation,
action, and purpose are beyond our comprehension. We learn
to see and know God for who God is—not what we want God
to be for us.
When we have enabled people to be faithful to God in his
or her many dimensions, images, and faces, we have made a
giant step toward enabling people to act more inclusively toward
those who are different. When we can image God in
God’s many faces, we can see God in the different faces that
we see. When we can embrace the wholeness of God in all
different kinds of people— our friends and our enemies, our
family and the strangers, our hometown neighbors and the
foreigners in our midst— then we are better able to embrace
those we consider unlikeable, strange, and different.
And when we can perceive God in all of God’s different
dimensions, we also can embrace all the different parts of ourselves
as holy—the masculine and the feminine, the strong and
the weak, the thinking and the feeling, the sensual and the
chaste, the playful and the serious, the practical and the dreaming.
As God’s rain and sunshine and grace include everyone,
as Jesus proclaimed, so we are called to be inclusive as our
heavenly God is inclusive, to be whole as our heavenly God is
whole.
Eric H. F. Law is a consultant/trainer in inclusive organization
development, dividing his time between Canada and the United
States. He is an Episcopal priest, a playwright,
a composer of church music and the author of
two books: The Wolf Shall Dwell with the
Lamb and The Bush Was Blazing But Not
Consumed. The play and portions of this article
are excerpts from his forthcoming book:
INCLUSION—Making Room for Grace.
Exclusion and Idolatry
For Christian communities, many acts of exclusion can be
traced to the sin of idolatry. Knowing only our limited,
incomplete concept of God, we assume that we know all there
is to know about God. We create an idol based on these limited
ideas and we worship it. We hold our idol up as the only
god and we measure another’s worth by it. We want to make
God think the way we do. We want God to have the same
categories of what is good and bad, right and wrong. If we
love someone, God has to love that person. If we hate someone,
God has to hate that person too. We confine God to our
limited way of seeing and perceiving the world.
Historically, we have sinned greatly in the name of our
limited, incomplete images of God. For example, with the
image of God being exclusively that
of a white male figure, we jumped
to the conclusion, most often unconsciously,
that people who were not
white and male were inferior or less
of the divine race or gender. With
the image of God as a sexless being,
we restrained God from relating to
humankind in any sexual or sensual
ways. With these images, we waged
war against those who did not fit our
image of God, we implemented
genocidal pogroms against them, we kept them in slavery, we
demanded those who dared to identify themselves as sexual
beings to be silent— all because they did not fit our image of
God.
For religious people, inclusion is not simply an interpersonal
issue, but a theological one. Therefore, one of the principal
strategies enabling people to act more inclusively is to
help people accept and appreciate a wider variety of images
and concepts of God. A good place to start is our Holy Scripture.
Scriptures are records of God’s diverse relationships with
humanity, first through the patriarchs and matriarchs, Moses
and the Exodus events, the prophets; then through Christ in
his earthly relationship with humanity, his suffering, death
and resurrection; and then through the acts of the community
of early believers.
In these records are a wealth of images and concepts of
God and of Jesus Christ that constantly challenge our limited
perception of God. God is not a static entity, but a being with
many ways of connecting with us depending on where we
are. The rich are challenged by a different image of God than
the poor. A woman relates to another set of images of God
different from those of men. A scientist’s relationship with
God may be very different from that of a poet’s. A gay person
connects with God differently than a straight person.
The minute we think we’ve got God figured out, there it is:
another image that does not quite fit— and so we have to work
on relating to others and to God in new ways again. To the
degree that we are faithful in studying and experiencing these
diverse images and concepts of God and of Christ, we move
away from the danger of idolatry.
When we have enabled people to be faithful to
God with his or her many dimensions,
images, and faces, we have made a giant step
toward enabling people to act more inclusively
toward those who are different.
22 Open Hands
Ed. Note: This article was requested
before it was revealed that those allegedly
responsible for the firebombing
of three Sacramento synagogues
have also become suspects in
the murder of two gay men, revealing
yet more connections than originally
known.
I’m sure that most of you have
heard about how three synagogues
in my home of Sacramento,
California, were firebombed in
June, and perhaps you have heard about
the pains of despair that so many Jews
around the country are feeling. And, of
course, these feelings run even stronger
among those of us who are members
of one of the temples, and that includes
me.
I have been a member of Congregation
B’nai Israel for the past 17 years.
This is our 150th anniversary. We are
the oldest congregation West of the
Mississippi.
How could this happen in America?
What have we done? Why do they (still)
hate us so much? Aren’t we good members
of the community? We volunteer
for local services and donate funds to
good civic causes. All we ask is to be
allowed to worship the way we wish and
to be allowed to keep our culture alive
in our own homes and temples. We
don’t seek converts. It is not a “we’re
better than you are,” or “God loves us
more than you.” All we ask is that we
be allowed to live in peace, brotherhood,
and safety within the dominant
Christian community. We don’t want
to bother or threaten the dominant
community. Just allow us to “to be.” Is
that so hard?
We heard via our phone tree as well
as the local media, that our weekly Friday
Sabbath service would be held in
the 2,000 seat Community Theater.
Even though it was announced that
everyone (Jew/non-Jew) was invited
(this is normal for Reform congregations),
I figured that there would only
be 150 or 250 people there, enough to
fill up a few rows in the huge theater,
which has two balconies.
When I arrived I was totally surprised.
Eighteen hundred people from all
over our community— Jews, Catholics,
Buddhists, Hare Krishnas, and members
from every Protestant denomination
were there. There were members from
black churches, gay churches, Asian
churches, as well as atheists, agnostics,
and some of the followers of New Age
spiritual leaders. There were ministers,
bishops, city council members, the police
chief, the FBI, ATF, and representatives
from the state legislature and
governor’s office. Never have I seen
such an outpouring of grief and concern
from the community—for Jews.
One of the most touching groups
was the Methodists. It seems they were
having a large convention here in Sacramento.
And when they heard about
the bombings, many decided they
wanted to pray with us. And so there
were hundreds of them all wearing their
convention badges.
A Reform Jewish Friday night service
is not what you might expect. It is not
solemn and “dignified.” It is the “celebration
of the Sabbath” where we sing,
clap hands, say prayers, listen to the
rabbi and cantor (who leads the music),
banter with each other, and of course
hear a sermon, often filled with humor.
It is a happy service.
But who could be happy? Our house
of worship had been torched. Our entire
library of 5,000 books was gone.
[See box below for how you can help
the library.] Yet our Rabbi told us that
we must persevere and that to not celebrate
the Sabbath would be exactly
what the terrorists would hope to
achieve. We were putting on a brave
front. We laughed, we sang, we applauded,
we said the ancient prayers.
Then something happened that I will
never forget.
Seated on the stage (known as a bema
[bee-mah] in Hebrew: altar) were a
number of our Temple’s officers, as well
as some of the “dignitaries” from the
city. There was one very attractive
blonde woman whom no one seemed
to recognize. I heard the “buzz” of “who
is that woman and why is she there.”
Toward the middle of the service our
Rabbi said he wanted to introduce us
When We All Get Together
Aftermath of a Firebombed Synagogue
Alan N. Canton
Eighteen hundred people from all over our
community—Jews, Catholics, Buddhists, Hare Krishnas,
and members from every Protestant denomination
were there. There were members from black
churches, gay churches, Asian churches, as well as
atheists, agnostics, and some of the followers of New
Age spiritual leaders. Never have I seen such an
outpouring of grief and concern
from the community—for Jews.
Fall 1999 23
Speakers/leaders to include:
Steve Charleston
Jimmy Creech
Chris Glaser
Carter Heyward
Grace Imathiu
Mary E. Hunt
Michael Kinnamon
Eric H. F. Law
Virginia Ramey Mollenkott
Melanie May
Melanie Morrison
Jeanne Audrey Powers
Janie Spahr
Susan Brooks Thistlethwaite
Mel White
Walter Wink
an historic ecumenical gathering of Welcoming Churches and their allies
in the U.S. and Canada
August 3-6, 2000
Northern Illinois University (outside Chicago)
Worship * Workshops * Bible Study * Performances
Celebrations * Denominational Gatherings * Youth Program
Sponsored by:
Affirming Congregation Programme (United Church of Canada), Association of Welcoming and Affirming Baptists (American
Baptist), More Light Presbyterians, Open & Affirming Ministries (Disciples of Christ), Open and Affirming Program (United
Church of Christ), Reconciling in Christ Program (Lutheran), Reconciling Congregation Program (United Methodist), and
Supportive Congregations Network (Brethren/Mennonite).
Major funding provided by:
Broadway United Church of Christ (New York), E. Rhodes and Leona B. Carpenter Foundation, and First United Church of
Oak Park (Illinois).
For more information on this gala event or
to find out how you can support WOW2000, contact:
WOW2000 •5250 N. Broadway • PMB#111 • Chicago, IL 60640
800-318-5581 • www.wow2k.org
to a Rev. Faith Whitmore and she got
up and went to the podium. She was
either the local or regional head of the
United Methodist Church, who was
having their convention. And she spoke
briefly about how appalled she was and
her brethren were about these incidents.
We’ve heard it before. From the Pope
on down, all through the years its been
“Gee, sorry for the Holocaust but there’s
nothing I could have done about it.”
She reached into her suit coat and
took out a piece of paper.
“I want you to know that this afternoon
we took a special offering of our
members to help you rebuild your
temple and we want you to have this
check for six thousand dollars.” For two
seconds there was absolute dead quiet.
We were astounded. Did we hear this
correctly? Christians are going to do
this?
On the third second the hall shook
with a thunderous applause. I’ve never
heard applause like that before. And it
went on for two minutes. And then
people broke into tears. Me too. It was
like all of the emotion of the day and
evening poured out in those few minutes.
As Rev. Whitmore gave the check
to the Rabbi and hugged him, it was
one of the most emotional moments
I’ve ever been witness to. Christians—
who for centuries sent the Cossacks to
pillage our towns, who put us through
their Inquisitions, who burned us at the
stake as heretics, who expelled us from
their countries, who locked us away in
tiny shtetls (shtet-ell—a poor Jewish
town like in Fiddler on the Roof), who
eagerly turned us into the Nazi SS, and
who ran the trains, who produced the
poison gas, or just “knew” about the
greatest human tragedy of this century—
were doing something good for a Jew.
Nothing in my life prepared me for that.
The evening closed with a final
hymn and we all went home feeling a
bit better.
Why here? Why us? Why me? I’m
sure there are answers, but I don’t have
them at the moment. The only answer
I do have is that we must pick ourselves
up as a congregation and community
(there were two other temples also
heavily damaged) and move on. They
can’t beat us. We are the Jewish people.
We were here 5,000 years ago, and we
will be here 5,000 years from today.
Alan Canton is the author of the popular
business book, ComputerMoney, and one
of the principals of Adams-Blake Publishing.
In addition to his consulting projects,
he is a syndicated writer, speaker, and
much published commentator on national
small business issues. His new book, The
Silver Pen: Starting a Profitable Writing
Business From a Lifetime of Experience—
A Guide for Older People has just
been published.
Donations of books or money for the
library can be sent to: Ms. Poshi Mikalson,
Librarian, Congregation B’nai Israel, 3600
Riverside Blvd., Sacramento, CA 95628
USA. Make checks payable to the congregation.
Books and videos with Jewish
content are needed: children’s books,
cookbooks, food, history, biography, life,
commentary, and fiction with a Jewish
theme.
24 Open Hands
A few days after the nail bomb attack
on a gay pub in the Soho
district of London, I found myself
working in the capital and made a
deliberate detour to visit the scene of
the devastation. This was not a form of
journalistic or personal voyeurism, but
a deep sense of wanting to pay silent
respect to those who had been killed
and injured, and to be alongside members
of a grieving community. I hovered
beside a policeman outside the
boarded-up bar, watching people placing
carnations in silver foil along the
pavement. Down the street, I spotted
leather-clad bouncers standing outside
pubs and cafe waiters searching the bags
of every customer.
In nearby St. Anne’s Church, a
lighted candle became the focus of
people’s prayers. Outside, a woman invited
passers-by to write messages of
condolence and pin them to a makeshift
noticeboard propped up against
some chairs. Moved by the comments,
I instinctively pulled a black notebook
from my pocket and started scribbling
down the powerful sentiments. Then I
Henri Nouwen’s
Hidden Legacy
Mike Ford
realized they were sacred meditations.
The first I read was distressing: “Raj’s
friend is unrecognizable.” Then I noticed
a prayer, “Dear Lord, please ease
the suffering and pave the way for good
to be done.” Another message was repentant:
“Ashamed that I ignored the
threat of bigotry and prejudice.
Ashamed that I allowed ignorance and
evil a chance to harm. I will never forget.
Sorry.” Beside it, a short statement:
“To the Victims of Man: Maintain the
love of the heart.” Underneath, a political
plea: “Let all the churches speak
out now against homophobia. Where
is the courage in the church hierarchies?
Where is their love? Silence supports
hatred and bigotry.” On another corner
of the noticeboard, simple but profound
words, “It’s time to learn how to
love.”
From there I made my way to Soho
Square where, in the evening floodlight,
I caught sight of several rows of flowers,
each bouquet with its own poignant
message: “I know we only spent a very
brief time together but it still brightened
up my life. I’m sorry we couldn’t have
known each other better.” … “We risk
all for each other beyond reason and
we shall never lose hope even in suffering.”
… “Rest in peace in a place without
prejudice.”
I thought of my spiritual hero, Henri
Nouwen. Had he been there in person,
he would surely have wept, for he was
someone who showed a remarkable
sensitivity towards any form of suffering
and was always on the side of the
marginalized. An authentically compassionate
man, he suffered with people—
literally. And he always sent flowers. I
thought of him particularly as I read,
on one floral tribute, a quotation from
the 13th century Sufi mystic, Rumi,
“Beyond ideas of right and wrong there
is a field. I will meet you there.” During
the last year of his life, Henri had
become interested in the writings of
Rumi. Both knew that true spirituality
went far beyond and much deeper than
any moral imperative. Whenever he
wrote or talked about sexuality, for instance,
Henri Nouwen would shift the
discussion away from morality, outside
the confines of right and wrong. Sexuality,
he once told me, had to be talked
about from the place of mysticism and
not just the place of morality.
More than 30 years ago, writing in
the National Catholic Reporter, Nouwen
urged people to befriend homosexual
people without trying to change them:
“If we are committed to the word of God
as revealed in the person of Jesus Christ,
we are invited to understand the homo-
I came to realize just how central Nouwen’s
long-repressed homosexuality had been to
his struggles and how it had probably been
the underlying stimulus for his powerful
writings on loneliness, intimacy,
marginality, love, and belonging.
Fall 1999 25
sexual existence as an expression of our
basic human condition, which is one
of fear, anxiety, loneliness and, especially,
homelessness, and is in essence
a cry for the liberating power of faith,
hope, and love.”
Nouwen, who was gay himself, first
recognized his sexual orientation at the
same time as he started responding to
his call to the priesthood— at the age of
six. For much of his life he agonized
over what for him was clearly a conflict:
he was passionate about people
and even suffered a complete emotional
breakdown after one platonic friendship
collapsed because of the expectations
he had of it. During the last decade
of his life at L’Arche (a community
of people living with disabilities and
abilities), he slowly came to accept his
sexual identity and showed particular
kindness to fellow homosexual Christians,
especially those in relationships
which he described as “holy.”
But he was never exclusive in his affections:
his huge hands and long arms
embraced many others who felt distance
from society, the institutional
church, or both. He cared especially for
the physically and mentally disabled,
the psychologically wounded and the
recently bereaved. Although rooted in
the priesthood of the Roman Catholic
Church, he knew what it was like to be
an outsider, to feel displaced and abandoned.
Even at the height of his fame
as an internationally respected professor
and writer, Nouwen experienced the
depths of his own loneliness as a celibate
who longed for intimate friendships
but was also frightened of them.
He once said that the essence of his
struggle revolved around his longing to
be close and his needing to keep his
distance.
During my travels around the world
to research my recent book on him,
Wounded Prophet, I learned much about
Nouwen and the contradictions which
shaped him into a unique individual: a
multi-gifted man of boundless generosity,
charm, and pastoral vision, but
also a deeply insecure person of anguish,
pain, and craving.
Nouwen, journalist of his own inner
life, was a complicated man, tormented
by a fear of rejection, of not being loved.
Remembering this raw vulnerability, a
few friends tried to overprotect him in
death as they had in life, but many more
felt it important to be less inhibited and
more truthful about who he was and
what he wrestled with. I was surprised
by the candid way in which people
spoke honestly about him to a stranger.
I didn’t always need to ask questions:
people simply talked about him and
told me afterwards that the interview
had become part of their own grieving
process for a man they had deeply
loved. After more than a hundred encounters,
I came to realize just how central
Nouwen’s long-repressed homosexuality
had been to his struggles and
how it had probably been the underlying
stimulus for his powerful writings
on loneliness, intimacy, marginality,
love, and belonging.
The author of more than 40 books,
Henri Nouwen was often much more
explicit about his needs and longings
in his first draft than some of his friends
and editors desired him to be in the final
versions. So they edited the manuscripts
before publication. In some
cases, this gained wider appeal for his
books but, at the same time, also had
the effect of de-contexualizing some
parts of his writing. There may have
been some virtue in this utilitarian approach,
but was it really honest in the
long term?
Latterly, Nouwen spoke publicly
about AIDS, preached at the funeral of
a gay man who had died of the virus,
told students that gay men and women
had a “unique vocation in the Christian
community,” affirmed gay people
in their relationships and included
many references to homosexuality in
his last journal, Sabbatical Journey. Yet,
the man who drew so abundantly from
his own experience about almost everything
else, never wrote explicitly about
his own personal struggles as a priest
who was gay, thereby depriving his
readers of his deep wisdom and mystical
perceptions into this most contemporary
and controversial of issues. He
thought a great deal about it and told
his publishers that he wanted to write
about homosexuality thoroughly—but
only when he felt emotionally free
enough. That day never came. Nouwen
died suddenly in 1996 at the age of 64.
Letters I have received from around the
world since Wounded Prophet was published
suggest that a great many readers,
especially priests, would have more
than welcomed his insights.
Henri Nouwen has, however, left us
a rich legacy of words to offer hope and
reassurance to people who suffer in any
situation—and not least to those penning
messages of hope in the London
rain, crouched beside the burgeoning
flowers in the shadow and on the edge
of Soho: “We are not alone; beyond the
differences that separate us, we share
one common humanity and thus, belong
to each other. The mystery of life
is that we discover this human togetherness
not when we are powerful and
strong, but when we are vulnerable and
weak” (Henri J.M. Nouwen, Our Greatest
Gift, HarperCollins, 1994, p. 27).
Michael Ford is a religious affairs journalist
with the British Broadcasting Corporation.
His biography
of Henri Nouwen,
Wounded Prophet
(Doubleday, 1999), is
based on interviews
with 100 of Nouwen’s
friends and associates.
“We are not alone; beyond the differences that
separate us, we share one common humanity
and thus, belong to each other. The mystery
of life is that we discover this human
togetherness not when we are
powerful and strong, but when we are
vulnerable and weak.” —Henri Nouwen
26 MINISTRIES Open Hands
CONNECTIONS
Walking for Love and Justice
Farmworkers and Lavender People
DeEtte Wald Beghtol
I suppose there are Latino/Latina farmworkers who say,
“Support gay and lesbian causes? You must be crazy!”— just as
there are probably some gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender
folks who say “Support farmworkers? You must be crazy!”
But in Oregon, farmworkers and “lavender people” have alliances
that have been working for both communities for close
to ten years.
In 1992 an ultra right-wing organization named the Oregon
Citizens Alliance used the initiative process to put a
measure on the ballot for public vote which condemned people
of sexual minorities as “abnormal, wrong, unnatural and perverse”
and made it legal to deny us basic legal rights. It was for
Oregonians the notorious Measure 9. In response gay men
and lesbians organized in very creative ways. One of the most
ambitious of these was the “Walk for Love and Justice,” organized
by the Lesbian Community Project. Lesbians, gays, and
our allies walked more than 110 miles from Eugene, Oregon
to Portland on a route which ran through many conservative,
isolated, rural towns and communities. The purpose was to
give people in small towns a chance to meet and talk to openly
gay and lesbian people— to experience for themselves that we
are normal, real people who shouldn’t have basic rights taken
away from us.
The task of finding groups to feed and house the walkers
was daunting. LCP and their allies in other gay-friendly organizations
contacted churches all along the route— not because
churches were necessarily the most gay-friendly, but because
churches have kitchens and large spaces which could be used
for sleeping. The risks were great, not only for the people who
walked, literally risking potshots in the communities they
walked through, but also for the leaders of congregations who
hosted the walkers.
The session of the Presbyterian congregation to which I
then belonged in suburban Portland, long considered one of
the more liberal churches in the presbytery, had some intense
discussions before finally agreeing to welcome the walkers.
“What would they be like?” “How would we protect our young
people from these ‘foreign’ influences?” But brave congregations
all along the route opened their fellowship halls and
sometimes the homes of parishioners so that the walkers could
have places to sleep before the next day’s walk.
The only stop on this journey that was not a church was
the headquarters of Piñeros y Campesinos Unidos del Noroeste
(PCUN), the Northwest Farmworkers and Treeplanters Union.
Those of us working on preparations for the walk were delighted
and astounded that PCUN had agreed to be a part of
this pilgrimage. Latino/Latina people in Oregon were not well
known for their inclusivity of GLBT people.
I imagine the discussions inside PCUN before making the
decision to welcome the walkers were even more heated that
those in my church. It was really a stretch for PCUN, after a
long history of abuse by Anglos, to welcome into their headquarters
not only unknown Anglos but gay and lesbian Anglos.
But PCUN leaders could see that the farmworker struggle is
linked to other struggles for justice. They could see that if the
OCA attack on GLBT people succeeded, then Latino/Latina
people, as another vulnerable minority, might be next. They
could see the truth in the quote from Pastor Martin Niemoller,
which many of us wore on buttons and t-shirts: “In Germany
[the Nazis] first came for the Communists, and I didn’t speak
up because I wasn’t a Communist. Then they came for the
Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew. Then they
came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I
wasn’t a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they
came for me— and by that time no one was left to speak up.”
In the years since that eventful walk, PCUN has broadened
its alliances with GLBT people. Causa, a Latino/Latina organization
focusing on immigrant issues, works closely with Rural
Organizing Project, an organization which has developed a
network of Human Rights Councils in small towns in every
corner of Oregon. These groups have worked together to defeat
anti-immigrant measures as well as other anti-human rights
measures. So when the More Light Church Conference came
to Portland in 1997, it was appropriate that leaders of the GLBT
struggle return the favor to PCUN. We included as one of the
“field trips” of the conference a trip to PCUN headquarters,
and shared profits from the gathering with them. Conference
organizers wanted attendees from all over the nation to learn
about farmworker issues and to see Latinas/Latinos as our sisters
and brothers in the struggle.
I don’t remember the name of one of the women I met on
the Walk for Love and Justice; but I will remember forever her
words: “I went on the walk to change others, and I have been
changed.” She had seen what the Quakers call “that of God”
in people she had previously seen as “other.” This is exactly
what the link between PCUN and LCP and “lavender” people
in Oregon is about. We are all changed as we join in each
other’s struggles.
DeEtte Wald Behgtol is an activist and a
peacemaker. She is an active member of Bridgeport
Community Church, UCC, an Open and
Affirming Congregation, and of Metanoia
Peace Community, UMC, a Reconciling Congregation
in Portland, Oregon.
Fall 1999 MINISTRIES 27
WELCOMING
PROCESS
Consider An Interfaith Resource Fair
Jeffrey A. Matthews
“Licensed to Kill,” a documentary on PBS, tells the story of
a gay man, reared in a Christian fundamentalist home, whose
father (an administrator in a Christian college), was vocal and
vicious in his condemnation of homosexuals. With this poison
in his heart, the son decided it would be a service to society
and to God to kill some gay men. At the time of his interview
for the short film, the young man had murdered two
men and injured a third, and was serving a prison sentence.
He had begun to re-think the severity of his religion.
“Maybe,” he now ventured about his upbringing,
“there should have been more emphasis
on the positive aspects of God.”
This story stands as one more example
of the guilty role religion has too often
played in society, and the desperate need
for healing and reconciliation that exists
between institutions of faith and GLBT
people. It’s time to emphasize “the positive
aspects of God.”
“Linkages” is a vital, creative and growing
program in New York’s Capital Region
(Albany) which displays such an emphasis.
For the past two years, folks from welcoming
congregations and the GLBT community have come
together on a Sunday in the spring to connect, talk, listen,
laugh, learn, pray, and we hope, form “linkages” of understanding
and appreciation for now and the future.
The idea arose as members of two Reconciling United Methodist
congregations (Community UMC of Slingerlands, NY,
and First UMC of Schenectady, NY) came together to explore
ways of putting flesh on the bones of our welcoming statement.
Members of each congregation felt that there ought to
be something— more than just saying it—that we could do to
reach out to and welcome the GLBT community. We discovered,
as we talked, that our mistake had been thinking we had
to do it by ourselves. It occurred to us, like a rush of revelation,
that we didn’t need to struggle in isolation, but that we
could do more, and do it better, together. We were, in essence,
“coming out” of our respective closets to discover that
we were not alone. The lesson of community was being learned
again.
Our initial idea was to organize a resource fair. There were
religious and human needs and resources that we should know
about, support, and share. An organizing committee grew out
of our first meeting and quickly reached out to the Capital
District Gay and Lesbian Community Council and interested
area clergy and congregations. By the time our enlarged Linkages
committee met, it included laity and clergy, gay and
straight, women and men, young and old, Jews and Christians;
people of goodwill and genuine enthusiasm. Clearly this
was an issue ready for attention. Since then both the planning
process and actual program days have provided sources of
deeper understanding, healing, friendship, and community.
The Linkages days have included the original resource fair
element, but also a variety of workshops, discussions, hospitality,
and interfaith worship. Our spring gatherings have been
held in a More Light Presbyterian Church and a Welcoming
Unitarian/Universalist Society. A January “Winter Warmer”
social event, which nurtured our new relationships, was hosted
by the Capital District Gay and Lesbian Community Center.
Nearly 30 religious and GLBT organizations have participated
in Linkages, with attendance ranging from 150 to 200. Religious
exhibitors have included United Methodist, Presbyterian,
Baptist, MCC, Quaker, Unitarian/Universalist, and National
Catholic Churches, along with Conservative and Reform
Jewish congregations.
GLBT and related exhibitors have included
PFLAG, Empire State Pride Agenda, Gay/Lesbian/
Straight Educators Network, The Inclusion
Project of Jewish Family Services, the
National Coalition Building Institute,
Safety Zone Youth Program, and the
Capital District Gay and Lesbian Community
Council.
Workshops have dealt with topics like:
scripture, needs of GLBT youth, coalition
building, holy unions, sexual ethics, sharing
stories/changing hearts, and the process
and implications of becoming a welcoming
congregation. Interfaith worship has
given us the opportunity to embrace God and
each other and the blessing of diversity. The local news
coverage has been generous, positive, and helpful.
Now, in its third year, the vision and movement continues
to grow. Though the original idea was for Linkages to be a
one-time event, it has taken on a life that will not be denied.
Saratoga Springs (a community north of Albany) has adopted
the model and last year held its first “Creating Connections”
conference. Representatives from a variety of faith communities
outside of the Capital District have come to participate
and see how Linkages works.
Who knows what God has in mind for this work of reconciliation?
If only one person were to hear and believe the old
story that “God is love,” and reject the false and violent lessons
of hatred, anger, and fear, Linkages will have been a great
and blessed success—but I believe it won’t end there. It just
may be that the time has come to share the
positive story of the God who loves and
saves and frees us all.
Jeff rey A. Matthews is the pastor of
Community United Methodist Church in
Slingerlands, New York.
28 MINISTRIES Open Hands
LEADERSHIP
Justice Groups Building Bridges
Debbie Roberts and Zandra Wagoner
In 1996, a formal liaison relationship was developed between
the Brethren/Mennonite Council for Lesbian and Gay
Concerns (BMC) and the Church of the Brethren Womæn’s
Caucus. Womæn’s Caucus is a network of feminist women
and men who identify with the Church of the Brethren. We
began 25 years ago as an organization to advocate for women’s
concerns and issues. Given our awareness of the violence and
pain related to the denial of gender equality, we are engaged
in the broad task of creating a church which is free from attitudes
and practices of injustice.
Over the years, we have had an inherent connection with
BMC, given the interlocking systems of heterosexism and sexism
and our mutual commitments to justice. Recently, we have
formalized our relationship. Through this connection, we have
supported one another’s programs, responded to denominational
concerns, exchanged ideas, and co-sponsored four conferences:
Dancing at the Wall, Dancing at the Table, Wade on
in: Dancing at the Water’s Edge, and Dancing in the Southwind.
Together we have been creating a vision of church that is both
welcoming and life-affirming. Womæn’s Caucus has been
delighted by this new relationship. It has strengthened our
work and offered us new life and spirit.
The history leading up to our present relationship is significant.
Initially, Womæn’s Caucus was funded, in part, by
the Church of the Brethren. This support was terminated in
the 1980’s. Although the denomination no longer financially
supported the caucus, and never financially supported BMC,
we each maintained a formal liaison relationship with our
denomination. Three years ago, the denomination officially
severed its relationships with both the Caucus and BMC. The
increased rejection by the official structure of the Church of
the Brethren paradoxically awakened new life in the Womæn’s
Caucus. We were eager to connect with other groups who
shared a prophetic vision of church.
After years of attempting to work within the denominational
structure, the Caucus was moving toward an awareness
that the institutional church was unable to feed our passions
for community and justice. While not abandoning the church,
we realized that it was time to nurture our spirits and create
authentic places where prophetic vision was encouraged and
embraced. Around this same time, BMC was coming to a similar
conclusion. No longer wishing to pound on walls of exclusion,
BMC was choosing to dance at the walls instead. Our
parallel hopes and vision, along with the denominational severing,
moved us to strengthen and formalize our relationship.
We have found our relationship of cooperation and communication
with BMC to be a significant act of bridge-building.
Womæn’s Caucus benefits from BMC’s particular vision,
increasing our awareness of the dynamics of power and injustice
which compromise the dignity of persons and whole
groups. We believe that such bridge-building breaks down fears
of the unknown, dismantling the negative assumptions that
one group may have about another group in which they are
not an active part.
It may be true that our relationship has increased our alienation
from our denomination, but it is a minor cost in comparison
to the benefits we have experienced together. Our
liaison strengthens the support and possibilities of community.
Together we provide safe space, affirmation, supportive
community, and a stronger voice. Ultimately it is more detrimental
to remain separated than to risk standing together. So
Womæn’s Caucus has continued to build bridges to other
organizations, since developing a liaison relationship with the
Church of the Brethren Global Women’s Project and, most
recently, the Church of the Brethren “On Earth, Peace” Assembly.
We hope to continue our bridge-building efforts.
Debbie Roberts is convener of the Womæn’s Caucus Steering
Committee and campus minister at the University of La Verne,
California. Zandra Wagoner serves as the Womæn’s Caucus
administrator and is a full-time graduate student focusing on
women and religion at Claremont Graduate University in California.
This updated article was first published in Dialogue, a publication
of the Brethren/Mennonite Council for Lesbian and Gay
Concerns (BMC).
SPIRITUALITY
My Soulforce Journey to Lynchburg
By Dotti Berry
In October, Rev. Mel White and Rev. Jerry Falwell, each with
200 followers, met in Lynchburg, Virginia for a weekend of dialogue,
meals, and worship, and to speak together against violence
against LGBT people. This is a personal account of its spiritual
effect on a lesbian in active dialogue with her own as-yet nonaffirming
congregation.
Our strength lies in our diversity! And what a wonderful mosaic
God has woven! The “Soulforce 200” delegates to Lynchburg
were gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, and heterosexual
people of faith: Catholic, Protestant (from Episcopal to Mennonite),
Jewish, Mormon, and Buddhist as well as others. We
were all there with the recognition that none of us in our
society are free until we are all free. Justice for self means
nothing if my brothers and sisters are imprisoned in any way.
I was humbled by the personal journeys of truth and suffering
which many in the group recounted. Dr. Rodney Powell,
who personally taught the non-violent approach for Dr. Martin
Luther King during desegregation was again on the front
lines to lead us to a new understanding of how to approach
our adversaries. Heterosexual people such as Mary Lou and
Bob Wallner, whose lesbian daughter Anna’s suicide has
brought a new awareness, were there to continue learning
about who we are. Jimmy Creech was there, the heterosexual
United Methodist minister who continues to suffer for our
Fall 1999 MINISTRIES 29
cause as he faces trial once again in November for celebrating
same gender holy union ceremonies.
If I had to describe my family motto growing up, it would
be “You will tell the truth at all costs.” My family is big on
“telling the truth” until “the truth” is something they do not
want to hear. So, the first Soulforce Vow to seek the truth, to
live by the truth and to confront untruth wherever I find it,
has been an accepted philosophy for most of my 46 years. In
the last 20 years since I came out of the closet, however, it has
become a working philosophy— a philosophy in action.
As an openly gay Christian, my faith in God sustains me;
my daily walk with God empowers me in ways I never dreamed
possible. I truly don’t feel I have ever “lost” anything because
of being openly gay. Yes, by the world’s standards, I may have
lost plenty. But, in reality, I have gained more than I could
ever imagine by allowing God to work through me and touch
my soul in ways that enable me to accomplish things I could
never do with my own strength. If I gain something of value
through deception (of who I am), then to me, that is simply a
form of idolatry. The world is more than willing to give me
anything of value I want—if, and I say if, I am willing to be
deceptive. This, however, is how the world enslaves us.
Personal spiritual renewal was at the heart of this Soulforce
journey to Lynchburg. I recognize that suffering for others is
the path to my own liberation and that transformation of society
becomes a natural byproduct of transforming my own
soul. Since the Soulforce methods for changing minds and
hearts are negotiation and direct action, I was challenged by
the teachings of Gandhi and King to see my adversary in an
entirely new light in order to do justice nonviolently. That
meant no violence of the fist, no violence of the tongue, and
no violence of the heart.
This second of five Soulforce Vows, the Vow to Love, was a
challenge. The first two parts of the second Soulforce Vow are
pretty obvious— it is the last one that is so subtle. We can outwardly
control the first two: violence of the fist and tongue,
but violence of the heart is hidden from the view of others
even while it is being engaged. But it eats away at us like a cancer.
So “no violence of the heart” is where I was most challenged,
because my heart was suspicious of Jerry Falwell’s
motives. I realized I was committing “violence of the heart”
and felt compelled to alter that through prayer and meditation.
I had to continually go back to one of the seven Soulforce
beliefs about my adversary which says “My adversary’s motives
are as pure as mine and of no relevance to our discussion.”
I choose to believe that Falwell is just as committed to
finding the “truth” as I am, as I recall another of the beliefs
about my adversary: “My adversary may have an insight into
truth that I do not have.” I also recall that Jesus himself taught
that we are not to judge— either motives or hearts— simply to
love. Only God can know a person’s heart.
That is why I did not try to focus on ex-gay Michael Johnston
and spend negative energy on him in any way. Again, I have
to accept that his motives are as pure as mine. Who am I to
judge him? Perhaps God is working through him and has
brought him to his true sexual orientation just like God has
worked to bring Mel White and others of us to our true sexual
orientation. My point is, only Michael and God know what is
true! If his path is not one of pureness and truth, that will one
day become apparent.
I believe that our adversaries are simply victims of misinformation,
so bringing the truth in love relentlessly can do
nothing less than transform their understanding with the realization
that they have operated under false premises for far
too long. Our real enemy is untruth, not people. When I make
a conscious decision to choose freedom over being a victim,
my life dramatically changes. I remind myself that freedom is
never given to the oppressed; it is always claimed by the oppressed.
During the Lynchburg weekend, in spite of our differences,
we simply tried to love one another as did Jesus, encouraging
others to do the same. I came to realize that there is no victory
in “defeating” an enemy. There is only victory when relationships
are restored. The non-violent movement seeks justice
and reconciliation, not victory. Mel White and Soulforce were
determined to bring this truth to Jerry Falwell and his followers
so eloquently spoken by Rabbi Abraham Heschel “Speech
has power. Words do not fade. What starts out as a sound
ends in a deed.”
The future of Soulforce is in eradicating spiritual violence
against all people. Please pray for us. Better yet, join our
Soulforce network of friends seeking justice for all God’s children—
heterosexual, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender by
logging onto http://www.soulforce.org
Dotti Berry is owner of Phoenix Communications,
a marketing, promotions, and internet
development company which also offers workshops
on diversity. You can go to www.2000the
millennium and click onto Phoenix Communications.
For more details on an upcoming
workshop in February with Brian McNaught,
go to www.empoweringdiversity.com
OUTREACH
International Gay Group
Addresses Religion
Tom Hanks
For the first time in its 21-year history, ILGA (International
Lesbian and Gay Association) held its international conference
in Africa, Sept.19-25. Johannesburg, South Africa was the
site chosen to commemorate that nation’s amazing transformation
and its historic role as the first nation to include protection
for sexual minorities from discrimination in its constitution
(now followed by Ecuador in Latin America, which
eliminated its anti-sodomy law in 1998).
Given the solid accomplishments and advances for lesbigay
rights in virtually every country in Latin America, Africa now
commonly is considered as the next continent ripe for major
advance. Even in Zimbabwe, where Robert Mugabe has the
reputation of being the world’s most homophobic leader (and
30 MINISTRIES Open Hands
by fundamentalist missionaries cite the same “clobber texts”
against gays and increasingly offer to “cure” homosexuality”
by “ex-gay” type “therapy” (torture). One urgent need, however,
is to circulate literature in French, the dominant common
language in many countries.
In Latin America virtually every nation now has lesbigay
groups with email and access to Internet (www sites), which
makes our traditional recourse to mailing documents less urgent
(and keeping our websites updated more urgent). However,
few nations in Africa even have a gay group, much less
one with access to computers. So traditional mailings to activists
and universities will remain important for a few years. In
Latin America, the major problem in continental infrastructure
for gay rights remains the lack of bookstores. However,
NX, the gay magazine in Argentina, is now offering books via
email and their website, and at the Latin America caucus a
representative from IGLHRC agreed to work on development
of this approach for other countries, which avoids threats of
violence to stores on the street and greatly reduces costs.
In a stirring and controversial conclusion, the ILGA plenary
voted to move up its next international meeting to coincide
with Rome 2000, July 1-9 (where IGLHRC already has
programmed a day on the subject of homosexuality and religion).
Also, in a kind of African coup d’état, for the post of Co-
Secretary General, the plenary replaced Australia’s respected
and popular Jennifer Wilson with an eloquent and visionary
black South African lesbian, Phumi Mtetwa, who promised to
fulfill the organization’s process of regionalization by making
it “an ILGA for the poor.” The election of London trade union
leader Kursad Kahramanoglu (Islamic, of Turkish origin) as
the male Co-Secretary General guaranteed that ILGA’s future
will be dramatically different from its European roots and past—
and certainly not dull!
However, Jennifer and Australia are not to be counted out,
since the decision to make Rome 2000 the next meeting also
opens up the way to have the following ILGA coincide with
the Gay Games in Sydney in 2002. Will ILGA be ready to tackle
Asia in earnest by that time? In preparation, our Working Party
has restructured and expanded its representation to include
contact persons in Africa, Brazil, France, Germany, and North
America, as well as Latin America. If you want to join the Party,
you can probably skip Italian, but it’s not too early to start
working on Chinese! Our “gay nineties” may only have been
the launching pad for the new millennium.
Most ILGA delegates stayed over after the conference to
participate in Johannesburg’s 10th Pride March, an unforgettable
six-mile trek (including one very long, steep hill) that
took us to the apartment of Simon Tseko Nkoli. There we
paused to commemorate this beloved national leader in the
struggle against apartheid and homophobia, who died of AIDS,
Nov. 30, 1998. Simon was imprisoned for four years and while
in prison came out as gay, a decision that had major impact
on Nelson Mandela and other black leaders and proved crucial in
the move to include gay rights in the national constitution.
Tom Hanks is the executive director of Other Sheep, highlighted
in our international issue this past spring, and lives in Buenos
Aires, Argentina. Other Sheep’s English language website is
www.othersheep.org
which has the worst statistics for HIV/AIDS, with some 25%
of the population infected), GALZ (Gays and Lesbians of Zimbabwe)
provides courageous and dynamic leadership in an
appalling situation.
As the contact person for the ILGA Working Party on Homophobia,
Ideology and Religion, I was especially concerned
with our preconference Sept.19, which was well-organized by
a local committee and attracted 50 persons, about a third of
those attending the conference. A women’s preconference, held
the same day, attracted 80, and many women expressed regret
that they had to choose between two such significant
areas of concern. However, the women’s preconference decided
to focus on women and spirituality at their next meeting,
so agendas appear to be converging (patriarchy always
has been a major concern in our Working Party documents).
For the first time the Working Party’s preconference was
able to involve Islamic participation. Many expressed interest
in the development of a South African Islamic liberation theology
(especially the works of Farid Esack) that has demonstrated
solidarity with the human rights struggle for women
and sexual minorities, including support for the controversial
new constitution. Although Islamic northern African nations
had few representatives at the conference (and no known
groups exist yet), a few weeks before ILGA met, King
Mohammed VI of Morocco was outed as having frequented
gay bars in the Netherlands during his years as a university
student there. Thus the Islamic world, unquestionably the
major remaining hurdle in ILGA’s struggle for gay rights, has
begun to give encouraging evidence of significant change and
opposition to traditional homophobic prejudices.
South Africa already has a number of strong lesbigay organizations,
a large archive department in the major university,
and a new book including chapters by numerous Christian
leaders (with a foreword by Anglican Bishop Desmond Tutu)
supporting lesbigay concerns, plus a growing number of gay
churches (including several MCC’s)— one with 600 members!
Given the economic and cultural leadership of the nation and
its recent dramatic transformation from an apartheid pariah,
the nation’s potential for influencing other nations is enormous.
Humorous evidence of this was recently supplied when
the legislature of neighboring Namibia voted to adopt South
Africa’s labor code— apparently without bothering to give it a
careful reading— and found they had enacted legal protection
for sexual minorities against discrimination!
Not only in the preconference but throughout the conference
religion was a major focus. One popular South African
lesbian leader began her presentation declaring “I’m black,
gay and Christian!”— a far cry from the more secular, “post-
Christian” atmosphere of the conference in Cologne, Germany
(1997). Other Sheep literature was in great demand and the
number of our Other Sheep resource centers in Africa at this
writing has increased from 5 to 17. Islam (especially in the
North) and the staggering HIV/AIDS statistics (especially in
Central Africa), plus the continuing popularity of tribal religions
and ancestral worship, make the continent unique.
However, certain challenges common in other areas made clear
why much of our literature, prepared for North and Latin
America, is so in demand in Africa, where churches oriented
Fall 1999 31
Sustaining
the Spirit
He comes and wraps himself around me,
An almost tangible presence.
My body reacts to love beyond knowing—
Ardor quickens, heat rises within me, life itself…
I know that I am naked, and I am not ashamed.
How can I feel shame in the presence of the One
who creates both flesh and spirit?
His spirit hand joins my human one in ecstatic rhythm
Touching me in secret places, places of my body—
Places of my heart—
Places of desire—
Heart’s Desire, desiring me, even me!
Time leaves me—or I leave it—
floating for an eternity in his enveloping presence,
Longing for the ending, yet longing that no ending will come—
He possesses me
My breath grows short and quick.
Breath from him, ruach blown from my nostrils,
Reaching for pleasure, reaching for fulfillment, reaching for union,
I gasp for God’s spirit.
He holds me close,
The Savior of all the world clutches my quaking body to his breast,
Sharing in my joy and wonder,
Showing me pleasure I have never known,
Loving too deeply to allow for shame,
The perfect Lover, loving perfectly.
He does not look at his watch and flee;
he does not run to wash as if soiled by my fluid, dirtied by my passion;
nor even does he roll over and sleep,
But lingers there, arms around me, breath inside me,
And I bask in the embrace of Love himself.
My
Song of Love
is Unknown
f.b.
f.b., a gay but closeted minister in the Presbyterian
Church, writes of Jesus in the tradition
of ancient mystics, who paralleled spiritual
and sexual intimacy. If this poem is
disturbing, it may be because it shatters the
boundaries of categories we prefer to keep
distinct. Others will be disturbed by the exclusively
male imagery; but this is one example
in a tradition in which nuns wrote
also of a female Jesus.
32 Open Hands
Welcoming
Communities
More Churches Declare Welcoming Stance
Annual listing of welcoming congregations (Winter 1999) erratum:
Christ Church United Methodist instead of Christ UMC in Santa Rosa,
California.
RECONCILING IN CHRIST
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church
Muskegon, Michigan
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church is an urban congregation of 300
members in a socio-economically diverse urban setting. The
church houses a food pantry, a Headstart program, and a Neighborhood
Association, with outreach programs to the community.
For the last six years, the issues of welcoming and hospitality
have been discussed, and the Reconciling in Christ
decision was a “no-brainer” when it came up in the last six
months. The church carries out its welcome by hosting an “Out
Muskegon” support group for GLBT people on Friday evenings
as well.
Hollywood Lutheran Church
Los Angeles, California
Hollywood Lutheran Church is a congregation of 125 people
which hosts many GLBT groups in the community, including
Lutherans Concerned/Los Angeles, the Gay Men’s Choir of L.A.,
and a predominantly gay AA group. The church has been welcoming
of many other groups, including Armenians and Hispanics.
The decision to become RIC, taken on Pentecost Sunday
as a sign of the many becoming united together, was
unanimous. The church plans to continue to do outreach into
the gay and lesbian community in Los Angeles.
OPEN AND AFFIRMING (UCC)
Minnehaha United Church of Christ
Minneapolis, Minnesota
For six years, this 150 member, urban congregation
has been engaged in a process of renewal and revitalization.
Having set aside its constitution and bylaws for a
year, it focused on clarifying its identity and relationship to
the community. Out of this has come a new covenant and
commitment to being a Just Peace, Open and Affirming, and
anti-racist congregation, which is evolving into “new ways of
being and doing.” Many who are joining do not have church
backgrounds so the congregation is rejoicing in frequent baptisms!
More gay and lesbian people have been drawn to the
church since its ONA decision, and it has offered blessing ceremonies
for numerous couples. It is also actively involved in
urban issues, including affordable housing and hunger
concerns.
Forest Grove United Church of Christ
Forest Grove, Oregon
Located in a small town near Portland, this 400 member congregation
continues to embody its historic involvement in
social justice and mission outreach. Members were encouraged
to participate in the area’s “Stop the Hate” vigil in October,
and along with about half a dozen other churches, it is
currently supporting another nearby UCC congregation with
fellowship and finances, as that church discerns its direction
for the future. With the retirement of its pastor of 29 years,
Forest Grove is entering its own challenging time of discernment
and transition, as well. As part of that ongoing process, it
plans to revisit its ONA commitment to find new ways of educating
and expressing this part of its congregational life.
Movement
News
UMC Judicial Council Rejects “Labeling”
The Board of Directors of the Reconciling Congregations
Program has announced it has no plans of curtailing its efforts
to encourage congregations to become inclusive in light of a
November United Methodist Judicial Council decree that “A
local church or any of its organizational units may not identify
or label itself as an unofficial body or movement.” In an
earlier consultation with pastors and representatives of Reconciling
congregations, there was unanimous unwillingness to
surrender the name “Reconciling.” This raises questions as to
the mechanisms of enforcement which denominational authorities
might utilize. The RCP said nomenclature should not
be the issue; that congregations may find alternative ways to
express their welcome of LGBT people.
Lutherans Hold First Reconciling
Conference
Two-hundred representatives of Lutheran congregations
across North America gathered in June at Augsburg College in
Minneapolis to examine the connections between race and
sexual orientation in the context of peacemaking. Sponsored
by Lutherans Concerned, the Lutheran Human Relations Association,
and the Lutheran Peace Fellowship, the conference,
in part, highlighted the Reconciling in Christ program. Dr.
Walter Wink was the keynote speaker.
ONA List to Include Embryonic UCCs
New church starts which are Open and Affirming but not
yet affiliated with the UCC will be listed on the UCC Coalition
for LGBT Concerns’ website (www.coalition.simplenet.com)
or available through The Coalition, P.O. Box 403, Holden, MA
01520-0403.