In beginning a conversation on queer Christian sexual ethics, I want to offer a couple thoughts upfront.
First up, occasionally you’ll notice I refer to (queer) Christian sexual ethics in my writing with queer in parenthesis. I do so because while I believe there are unique issues to be considered for queer people, our sexual orientation isn’t the primary determining factor in developing our personal code of sexual ethics as women of faith. Whether lesbian or straight, when it comes down to making decisions about our sexual lives, I believe the questions we take into consideration are the same.
Next. My intention is to present this topic as an exploration and dialogue on sexual ethics rather than as a definitive treatment. At the conclusion of all my posts and all your comments we’re not going to walk away with a check list on sexual ethics that we can laminate on a 3×5 card and carry in our back pockets, readily accessible to whip out every time we see a pretty girl. I know that’s what some of us might want, especially if we come from a faith tradition that provided us with all the answers to every question. There’s something so comforting about absolutes because at least we know. There’s no wondering or uncertainty, there’s just right and wrong. No agonizing over questions that might have multiple answers. What goes for me goes for you so if in doubt, just copy the paper of the kid at the desk next to you.
Human responsibility is never that easy, not in any area of our lives. When we see a homeless woman on the street, when we get a phone solicitation from Habitat for Humanity, when we see video footage from Darfur, each of us responds personally based on our accumulated beliefs that guide our hearts and influence our actions. Some will give her a dollar and a smile. Some will sit on the curb with her and spend a few minutes of their time connecting with her as a human being and child of God. Some will be so moved by the plight of the homeless that seeing that woman on the street will motivate them to get involved in a local charity that provides relief and advocacy work for the poor and disenfranchised. Some will earnestly and compassionately pray. Which is the most right way to respond? Which is the most Christian action? The Bible says plenty about the homeless and poor. Care for the oppressed. Feed the hungry. Clothe the naked. The message is clear but how we live out that message in our daily lives is less so, and so as we see the homeless woman up ahead on the corner we each grapple internally with what would be the right thing for us to do. I’m proposing the same is true around (queer) Christian sexual ethics. There’s not one monolithic standard to which we all adhere with unwavering certitude but holding our foundational convictions we then need to agonize through the questions of how we’re to live out our sexual lives in a way that’s both fulfilling and honorable and as we would desire in all the actions of our lives, in a way that brings glory and honor to God.
And finally, a personal word. Over the years I’ve determined a clear code of personal sexual ethics, and I call them personal because they’re mine. I hold myself accountable to them. What’s right for me is right for me but I don’t pretend that I know what’s right for you, and so I don’t intend to impose my personal ethics on you or anyone else even if in my most grandiose moments I think the entire world should live as I live and do as I do.
I’m putting this out there simply to acknowledge that because of key convictions I hold I’m not free from some judgments and strong opinions around this topic and those will no doubt leak into upcoming posts despite how hard I might try to remain neutral despite being painfully aware that I’m not now nor ever have been neutral on anything. For me there’s no wiggle room when it comes to being monogamous in relationships. I am monogamous and would have it be no other way. I would never participate in an open relationship. I would not consider having multiple sexual relationships at the same time. Neither would I have casual sex with a friend or a stranger because I believe sexual intimacy is to be held within the framework of love. These are my personal absolutes. There are others concerning mutuality, respect, love, behavior, and passion in relation to a sexual relationship and some of these will become apparent too as we move along in our conversation together, but even from the little I’ve told you, you’ve probably concluded, and rightly so, that my personal code of sexual ethics is quite conventional, conservative, traditional, vanilla, whatever you want to label it. Label away. I’m fine with that. But again, I’m just telling you this so you know where I’m coming from, even though saying that has me writhing in pain at the use of such a hideous cliché, and this is one of the reasons that your reflections and comments will be so valuable to this conversation. I hope as we move along you’ll risk jumping in with your own viewpoint, opinions and insights so that we can round out the conversation and rock this out together!
Can you imagine how many hits that title’s going to generate on the search engines? At this very moment a heterosexual man in Cleveland, Ohio is eagerly waiting for his slow as molasses dial-up modem to open up this page so he can. . . oh hi, Mr. Cleveland Guy. Here’s the free download of Martin Luther’s Commentary on the Book of Galatians, and the photo is of a little blue and green eyed kitten I saw during a trip to Greece last year and the cat, as you can see is totally naked. The little Athenian vixen. So that should take care of the lookie loos. Now onto the topic of Queer Christian Sexual Ethics. Drum roll please.
To my knowledge Jesus never said, “Do not engage in any sexual behavior until you enter into a heterosexual marriage,” but you’d never know it based on how the church deals with the question of Christian sexual ethics. Just don’t do it until you say ‘I do.‘ Period, end of story, and now let’s open our hymnals to page 473 as we sing together. That’s the full extent of the teaching and preaching I took from 38 plus years in the church. It’s what I heard at summer camp, in youth group, in Bible college and from the pulpit. My point for the moment isn’t to tackle this singular one-size-fits-all rule of sexual ethics, but to highlight how inadequately Christian teaching has been in addressing the sexual/sensual aspect of our humanity and thus failing to minister to the believer in their wholeness. As a result, were we a sisterhood of straight Christian women gathered here, a conversation on Christian sexual ethics would be just as challenging and needful for us to undertake. Unquestionably, there’s added complexity for us as queer believers in attempting to construct a paradigm (model) for queer Christian sexual ethics, but I’d propose before we leap into the gayer particulars our starting point begins where it would for any believer.
There are so many directions we can go with this and were I academically predisposed like Bon the chances are I’d begin by sketching out an outline to assist in developing a coherent flow and structure. As it is, I’m probably going to be shooting more from the hip and along with the comments you add, we’ll plow through a conversation on (queer) Christian sexual ethics until we’re all screaming “Enough already!”
So let me start by free-flowing some questions or discussion points that come up for me and then I’d like to encourage you to jump in with your own. We’ll combine it all, see what areas seem to most interest everyone and then we’ll take it from there, A to Z.
Does the Bible (Hebrew and Christian Testaments) provide any absolutes in relation to sexual ethics? If so, what do we know in terms of the conditions and considerations behind those absolutes and are those same conditions and considerations applicable today?
What sexual sins does the Bible directly address? Define ’sexual immorality’ as used in Scripture.
Have any sexual mores changed in value in the time between antiquity and our contemporary culture? Are there behaviors once viewed as acceptable that are now judged as an offense, or vice versa?
When discussing a code of sexual ethics to apply to our own lives are we able to base them on a clear set of Biblical sexual ethics?
What specific passages, if any, are to be considered by Christians when discussing sexual ethics?
Is sex outside of marriage sin? Is abstinence from sex the only moral option for single people?
Is celibacy the only moral option for queer Christians?
Does the limited availability of legalized marriage for gays and lesbians have any impact on creating a standard for queer Christian sexual ethics? Is monogamy the only moral option for partnered/married queer Christians?
How should Christian lesbians negotiate sexual behavior and sexual desire while dating?
Those are the bullet points I came up with in 15 minutes. Now it’s your turn to contribute and while you do I’m going to watch the visitor hit stats go through the roof!
In recent days many of us have heard reports from a study conducted by the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, Sweden that used MRI and PET scans to compare the brains of 90 people (25 straight men, 25 straight women, 20 gay men, 20 gay women), and found that the brains of gay men were more like those of straight women than of straight men and that brains of gay women tend to be more like straight men than straight women. The areas of similarity involved the size of various portions of the brain, and how a particular section of the brain (the amygdala) was connected to other regions of the brain; in gay men and straight women the connectors are more strongly tied to areas involving emotions; for gay women and straight men the strong connectors lead to the part of the brain that controls motor functions. I think it’s interesting but not all that important in the faith-based conversations of homosexuality.
Whenever homosexuality is the topic among people of faith, whether in friendly conversation or in heated debate, you can anticipate that at some point the question of choice will bounce to the top often in some variation of “Does a person choose to be gay or are they born that way?” While conservative Christians argue that gays and lesbians have chosen a sinful homosexual lifestyle, most gay and lesbian Christians answer back that being gay was never a choice for them. The conflict breaks down to pitting biology against choice. If homosexuality is genetic then same-sex attraction could be understood as an intrinsic and natural characteristic for a certain percentage of humans and thus an argument could be made that homosexuality is a matter of biology rather than moral choice or sin. On the other hand, if homosexuality is a deliberate, or even unconscious choice, then the line of reasoning goes that what can be chosen can be un-chosen, leading some gay and lesbian Christians into ex-gay ministries that for far too many set in motion the soul-wrenching hamster wheel of gay/ex-gay/ex-ex-gay and tragically there are times when the wheel doesn’t stop spinning until someone is ex-alive. We’ve lost so many good and young lives because they were led to believe that which they’d never chosen could be unchosen, leading them to try time and again to be what they were never meant to be in the first place.
There are things each of us know about ourselves that are unquestionable truths of our lives. One of those absolute facts, like day follows night, is that I never made a deliberate choice to be gay. That’s not to say I had no choice at all in the matter. I did. I made a long list of choices. I chose to trust my relationship with God. I chose to believe there was another way to understand the few Scriptures that were being used to condemn homosexuality. I chose to not see myself as sick or sinful but as beloved and holy. I chose to place my assurance in God and not in those who claimed to speak for God. I chose to love. I chose to live boldly. I chose to live openly as a Christian and a lesbian. These are the choices I’m accountable for and the ones I gladly take full responsibility for having made.
That’s my story and I’m sticking by it, but it’s my story and not necessarily shared by every other queer roaming the planet. In fact, I know it’s not because there are plenty of queer people who claim choice in their sexual orientation. This can be problematic for those GLBTQ Christians who’ve made the “it wasn’t a choice” line of reasoning a key component to their discourse on homosexuality and religion. I would have had a hard time of it myself in the early days of my own reconciliation journey had I heard there were gays and lesbians who actually chose to be gay and lesbian. *
As I realize how true what I’m about to say is, I can catch a glimpse of how far I’ve come in digging through the onion layers of my own internalized homophobia, and what I’m going to say is this; it no longer matters to me whether sexual orientation is rooted in nature or nurture, whether it’s genetic or environmental, learned or innate. It no longer matters to me because I don’t believe a person’s sexual orientation matters one iota to God anymore than it matters to God whether we’re left-handed or right-handed. Where I believe it matters to God is how we choose to use our left or right hand to bring either harm or healing to another human being. The action of our dominant hand, regardless of which hand it might be, is where God pays close attention. In the same way, whether we’re gay, straight, or bi, God’s interest isn’t in the object of our affection but in the expression of our affection. God cares about our motives and intentions and how we tend to the well-being and wholeness of others and that includes in sexually intimate relationships.
So what are your thoughts on all the whole nature-nurture, choice or non-choice rigmarole? I wait expectantly. In the meantime, this seems to be leading us toward the bigger conversation around the much requested topic of queer Christian sexual ethics but give me a day or two to pull that puppy together!
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*Afterword:
Despite having no personal experience in choosing my sexual orientation, I can readily accept the claim of others to have chosen theirs in light of the variances between being exclusively heterosexual and exclusively homosexual [Refer to my post on Fluidity and the Sexuality Scale]. The large space in between allows for the possibility that these individuals could maintain choice in self-identifying and then living as gay, just as it allows for those individuals who maintain they were once gay and now choose to self-identify and live as straight or in their terminology, now identify as “ex-gay.” I don’t believe however that someone who is exclusively heterosexually-attracted can choose to be gay anymore than someone who is exclusively homosexually-attracted can choose to be straight, unless that choice is made with a willingness to settle for a painfully conflicted life where external actions and internal inclinations are at continually odds with one another.
Yesterday was our third in a series of weddings, and while the photo to the left is from our first back in 2002, I was just as happy and D was just as beautiful yesterday as six years ago so the old snapshot will have to do until we sort through the photos from yesterday.
It was a really lovely day. As nice as I had hoped our wee-wedding would be, it was better. We’d extended an open invitation to the members of the church and then sent out email invitations to a small circle of friends and had a dozen people showed up we would have been more than pleased but as it turned out thirty plus friends attended to witness the signing of the marriage license, eavesdrop on our affirmations of love to one another, and feast their way across a table loaded with cake, fruits, cheeses and breads. Gathered with us were several families from the church, a handful of ridiculously good people from our former congregation, classmates from D’s graduate school, my web designer and her husband, and one of my marathon walking buddies. And so it was; gay men, lesbian couples, gray haired saints of the church, youth, families, Christian, Jew, agnostic. It was a delightful mix of cherished friends who were there to witness, support and affirm our relationship as it took on a long-awaited legal dimension, and though the deed’s been done, it’s still unbelievable that today I’m blogging as a legally married woman. I’ve got to tell you my friends, it’s incredible to be able to say that, legally married and we’ve got the papers to prove it. D and I keep joking about making a wallet-sized copy of our marriage license to carry with us and flash should there ever be a question. “A special deal exclusively for married couples? No problem. Take a gander at this little laminated 4×6 copy of our marriage license. It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”
That’s not to say D and I are more married today than we were a week ago, because we’ve considered ourselves married as married can be since our wedding in 2002. At that time we made vows to each other before God and in the presence of witnesses and in essence, that’s what a marriage is; two people joining their lives in love and commitment and willingly entering into covenant with one another. Before there were legal contracts and county recorders with official seals; before wedding ceremonies moved from being held in the bride and groom’s homes to the inside of churches and temples; and long before marriage was deemed a sacrament by religion there were two people giving their oath and pledging their lives to one another, and so it was on April 6, 2002, our lives were joined and we became one. One relationship composed of two people, held together with love and the blessing of God. Married. A couple. Wife and wife.
But still, there’s something about that piece of paper with it’s decorative stamped seal; something more than the legal benefits and protections immediately granted to us as a married couple; something bigger than the legal recognition that allows us to rightfully designate our marital status as married, and something different than these first tenuous, glorious steps into the waters of equality and justice. It’s really nothing more or less than looking in the eyes of the woman I love and adore and being able to say, “We’re legally married. Married. We have papers. Just thought I should mention it.”
D and I took a month of dance lessons just to be able to not step on each other’s toes for the first dance at our wedding reception, which is why I’m so impressed by these kids.
Conservative Christian. Straight Woman. Mother. Wife. Southern Girl. Cheryl Moss Tyler has released her first novel titled “And You Invited Me In”, that tells the story of Alex, a young man dying of AIDS, who asks Annie, his conservative Christian sister to help take care of him. Alex’s partner objects to Annie’s involvement while at the same time Annie’s equally conservative friends and family urge her to not go. I haven’t read “And You Invited Me In” although my copy is ordered and on the way. I’ll blog a review in the future but in the meantime, I’ve read about the author, Cheryl Moss Tyler at her book site and discovered her blog, and so far, I’m moved by what I’ve read.
This coming Sunday is the Gay Pride Parade in San Francisco and while D and I’ve gone a couple times in the past it’s something we tend to avoid at this point in our lives. Maybe other 51 year old women enjoy standing in the glaring sun for five hours with 3 bazillion other spectators while a parade moves along at a snail’s pace, all but hidden by a 3 deep row of people but me, not so much. And it’s Sunday when I normally lean toward the worship God, pass the peace, and break the bread sort of activities over gawking at the shapely legs and glittery attire of drag queens. I actually prefer gawking and appreciating our tremendously diverse queer community on Saturdays which is why we’ll head over a day early with our buddies Denise and Heather to grab free stickers from the Marriage Equality booth, buy a cheap Gay Pride teeshirt I’ll never wear and munch on truly bad fair food. Ah, nothing like Gay Pride weekend!
So let me tell you about my first Gay Pride Parade. It was my favorite and you’ll know why at story’s end.
Gay Pride Parade. Chicago. 1996. I’d gone across the nation to join a contingency of folks from the United Church of Christ Coalition for LGBT Concerns. The humidity was suffocating to this west coast girl and the crowds of spectators staggering in number and in diversity. Having only been out as a lesbian for two years and living in a small college town at the time I’d never been surrounded by so many drag queens, leather-clad gay boys and dykes on bikes in my life. Okay, I’ll confess. It was my first time to ever be within close proximity to any drag queens, leather-clad gay boys, and bike-riding dykes and in hindsight I suspect I looked a bit like a two-legged version of a deer in headlights, only gayer.
Our funny little mix of churchy gay folks was stationed in the parade somewhere between a contingent of drag queens in the most extraordinarily high stilettos on earth and a group of PFLAG parents marching with placards reading “I love my gay son” and “Out and proud straight parents of our beautiful lesbian daughter.” As we moved along the parade route waved on by spectators pressing in on both sides of the street, hanging out from every window, and filling every building fire escape and porch, our group, marching without brightly-colored banners, sloganed placards or cheesy rainbow trinkets to hurl to the crowds, contributed nothing more than our mediocre singing to the festive chaos. Included in our extensive musical repertoire of three songs was “Jesus loves me, this I know…”
Over and over we sang the familiar childhood Sunday School song. We walked and as we walked we sang and while the people standing on the side lines changed something never did. No matter where we traveled on the parade route and no matter what direction my eyes would chance upon there would be one or more spectators singing along with us, mouthing the words, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so,” and on more than a few occasions with tears glistening in their eyes. At one point in the parade route we stopped to wait for the groups in front of us to move on and as we sang, my eyes caught two men 15 feet ahead of me standing on the sidewalk; the taller of the two men leaning against a stop sign pole, with his arms wrapped in an embrace around the other man who was leaning against him. Both men were dressed on this stifling humid day in black leather pants and vests, leather boots and black leather caps and they were all but glimmering as the mid-day sun ricocheted off all the metal studs and chains embedded in their clothing and draped around their bodies. They were bearded, mustached, and if I have my queer vernacular down, I believe the term “Leather Daddy” might have been appropriately applied, but then I’m a lesbian, so what do I know about gay guys other than what I learned from “Queer as Folk”?
Now let me make a confession; something I tend to do a little too frequently to retain any kind of queer-coolness factor. At this point in my life as a gay Christian I was struggling with the more wild and wacky members of the gay community who were constantly being held up by conservative Christians in their case against homosexuality. The only video clips they ever showed of gay people were of shirtless oiled-up men dressed in leather pants that lacked cowhide on the buttocks, drag queens with busty casabas that were only out done in grandeur and size by their extravagant hairstyles, and uberbutch lesbians draped in full body press lip-locks. I secretly just wanted everyone to tone it down a bit to give James Dobson and Pat Robertson a little less material to work with. Patch up your pants! Deflate those bazoombas! Lighten up on the PDA! Obviously I’m not in that place anymore, but back then, when I was still running headfirst into my own internal homophobia that’s the kind of arrogant judgmental chatter that went through my head.
Back to 1996. Chicago. Gay Pride Parade. Leather Daddies.
So there I was, forming my critical critique of these two men in my head when it happened. My little self-righteous judgmental butt got slammed to the pavement. Hard. As we moved closer to where the men were standing I could see they were both weeping. I’m not saying that one random tear glistened in their eyes. They were w-e-e-p-i-n-g. Multiple tears. Runny noses. Scrunched up faces. And as they wept, I could see they were singing, “Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me, The Bible tells me so.” I stood there, staring directly at them and in turn, they were looking at me, and for a few brief moments we sang together, singing to each other of a love that all three of us had been taught in our childhood by people who stopped singing it to us when we were grown and gay.
So, do you understand now why that was my favorite Gay Pride Parade?
O LORD, you deceived me, and I was deceived;
you overpowered me and prevailed;
I am ridiculed all day long;
everyone mocks me.
Whenever I speak, I cry out
proclaiming violence and destruction.
So the word of the LORD has brought me
insult and reproach all day long.
But if I say, “I will not mention him
or speak any more in his name,”
his word is in my heart like a fire,
a fire shut up in my bones.
I am weary of holding it in;
indeed, I cannot.
I hear many whispering,
“Terror on every side!
Report him! Let’s report him!”
All my friends
are waiting for me to slip, saying,
“Perhaps he will be deceived;
then we will prevail over him
and take our revenge on him.”
But the LORD is with me like a mighty warrior;
so my persecutors will stumble and not prevail;
They will fail and be thoroughly disgraced;
their dishonor will never be forgotten.
O LORD Almighty, you who examine the righteous
and probe the heart and mind,
let me see your vengeance upon them,
for to you I have committed my cause.
Sing to the LORD!
Give praise to the LORD!
He rescues the life of the needy
from the hands of the wicked.
Put a curse on the day I was born!
Don’t bless my mother.
Put a curse on the man
who told my father,
“Good news! You have a son.”
Isn’t it something how you can know a passage in the Bible, hear sermons preached on it, stumble across it time and again in your devotional reading, and yet it never really sinks in until one day when something in it speaks so real and close to the place you’re at in your own life that it leaves you undone? Jeremiah 20 is one of those passages for me. I was in my third year of seminary when another seminarian presented it for the opening devotional in class, and as I listened that morning it was as though the words pierced through me for the first time in my life; so near to expressing my own heart at the time that the words could have been written by someone who had eavesdropped on my secret prayers of the heart.
Since that morning five years ago, I’ve reflected on Jeremiah’s complaint countless times. It was the Scripture reading and theme for my ordination into Christian ministry on Pentecost Sunday 2004, and when it was read this past Sunday as part of the lectionary reading, it grabbed me all over again. My intention is to share a few personal reflections on the passage as a beginning to a conversation I hope you’ll continue.
By the time Jeremiah came onto the scene, Israel was no longer a united nation but had been divided between Israel in the north and Judah, with Jerusalem as it’s capital in the south. Israel had already been destroyed, taken captive by its enemies because they had ignored the words of the prophets God had sent to them and had refused to repent of their sins. Judah had remained faithful, but her faithfulness was limited to adherence to religious traditions rather than devotion and obedience to God and God’s Word. This is how it came to be that God called Jeremiah to be a prophet to Judah, to warn the people that unless they repent of their sin, return to their first love, and again pledge themselves to the covenant they had long ago entered into with God, their fate would be no different than that of Israel.
And what followed was both good news and bad news. The bad news was that the word God gave to Jeremiah wasn’t a particularly popular message to deliver to the people. They didn’t want to be told, from one of their own no less, that all their religious works and rituals weren’t what God wanted from them. They balked at Jeremiah’s prophesies. He was ridiculed and made into a laughingstock. Their taunts ring out in Jeremiah 20:10; “Oh we’re sooooo scared Jeremiah. Destruction and terror is all around. Big bad scary God is gonna get us because you say so.” Though Jeremiah had once been their neighbor and friend, they conspired and plotted ways to trip him up and destroy both he and his message. Even the priests from his hometown, who would have watched Jeremiah grow from boy to man, looked for ways to kill him. For the sake of the message Jeremiah suffered. He was mocked, ridiculed and betrayed, dropped into a deep muddy hole at one point in his life and dragged against his will into Egypt at another. They hated the message and the messenger who brought it to them.
The good news? When God chose Jeremiah he didn’t choose a people pleaser. For more than twenty years Jeremiah spoke the word of God without ceasing despite the less than favorable response it received. God said “Go into the streets of Jerusalem and into all the towns of Judah and declare what I’ve told you,” and that’s what Jeremiah did. Kings came and went but Jeremiah remained, never yielding. False prophets came and went but Jeremiah remained, never silent. Though he suffered constant hardship and was condemned as a false prophet, and even though no one believed and responded to the message God had given him, Jeremiah persisted.
I love this guy. I love him for following God’s call, for his courage, his faithfulness, his integrity, and his passion and commitment to God. And I love him because when he was overwhelmed by it all, he complained. Now that’s someone I can relate to. Call it a prayer of lament, or holy whining. Either way, I love the realness of it and I love that Jeremiah names the real problem behind it all, the cause for all his suffering and hardship. Look no further. God was to blame for the mess Jeremiah was in.
Jeremiah had loved God all his life and had heard God call him in his youth, placing words on his lips and a truth in his heart that he was to take to the people. They weren’t words written in ink and bound up in paper. The truth given to Jeremiah wasn’t the truth being preached in the temple at Jerusalem. The words were an offense, a scandal to all who heard them. No way was Jeremiah speaking God’s words. Impossible! But whatever others thought, no matter how they doubted and ridiculed the message, Jeremiah continued to speak the words and believe the truth placed in his heart Jeremiah had recognized the voice as the One he loved and with confidence that it was God speaking to him, he had no choice but to declare the message. He had no choice because it had come from the God he worshiped and the only God he would follow in obedience.
And so it was God’s fault. God had lured Jeremiah with his word and his truth and because he did as God had commanded he was the brunt of everyone’s jokes, an object of ridicule and the target for persecution. If he could just keep his mouth shut. Say nothing. Stop with all the God said this and God said that, life would be easy again. He could fit back in and life could return to normal. “Hey there Jeremiah! How you doing? Fine, you say? Oh, that’s good to hear. Have a nice day now.” What a relief it would be to exchange a few pleasantries on the road, and yet, as much as Jeremiah might have longed for a break, to just have a moment’s peace, he couldn’t be quiet about God. He couldn’t shut up because all that he knew of God and had heard from God burned in him like a fire that couldn’t be contained, and so despite it all, Jeremiah kept speaking what God had said to him and only to him because it was impossible for him to do otherwise.
And when it got bad, so bad he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Jeremiah would air his complaint to God. “God, I’m miserable. This is your doing. They won’t leave me alone. They won’t listen. I’m a joke and a laughingstock and I don’t want to play anymore!“And then, right in stream of lament, Jeremiah declares, “But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior.” There’s trouble on every side, no relief in sight and yet Jeremiah has confidence in God. Oh, and it goes even further than that. Watch. ONE, Jeremiah complained which led to TWO, an expression of confidence in God that anticipated THREE, deliverance by God that resulted in FOUR, praise to God. And then what? FIVE, more complaining, because in Jeremiah’s life time praise wasn’t the final word for real life was then as real life is now; a roller coaster. Even when life is grounded in faith. Even for a prophet.
When you realized you were gay why did you tell anyone? Why did you tell your Christian friends and family when you knew they’d disapprove? Why did you tell your pastor or put the word out in your church when you could have guessed their reaction and the consequences that would follow? Why didn’t you just keep your mouth shut and keep it to yourself? Nobody needed to know. Keep private business private they say. And just why do you bother to share an non-condemning interpretation of the Scriptures to those who stand behind a traditional interpretation that condemns it as a sin and abomination? Why be bold in your love for someone of the same gender when people will devalue and ridicule it? For goodness sake, why do you insist on blogging about being a Queer Christian of all things or about affirming the lives and faith of Queer Christians? Really. What are you thinking?
Maybe you’re thinking what I’m thinking when you open your mouth to declare the truth of your life and how it is that you encounter and rejoice in the presence of God in all your days. Maybe we share the same reason for not backing down from declaring the love and grace of God that extends to all and embraces all. I wouldn’t be surprised for a minute if it’s because you don’t have a choice. Not really. If that’s the case then remember you stand in good company with one another, and with those in the faith who have gone before who couldn’t shut up either.
But if I say, “I will not mention him
or speak any more in his name,”
his word is in my heart like a fire,
a fire shut up in my bones.
I am weary of holding it in;
indeed, I cannot.
Tomorrow D and I are heading over to San Francisco for our appointment at City Hall to hand over our cash and a completed application form in exchange for one state-recognized marriage license.
As an ordained member of the clergy I’ve officiated at several marriages over the past few years and one of the main behind the scene tasks for the officiant is to take charge of the marriage license. I’d take it from the couple at the rehearsal, bring it with me the next day to the wedding, gather the signatures from the bride and groom and witness(es), verify all the information to be correct and in the right color ink (black not blue), add my signature, and the day following the wedding send it off to the county recorder. The irony hasn’t been lost on me; that my signature on these marriage licenses was an essential component in legalizing the marriages and at the same time I couldn’t secure a legal marriage license for D and I. One of the many quirky realities that comes along with inequality but tomorrow that changes and that’s more than a good thing.
So the mini-wedding is on Sunday afternoon and if any of you living in the Bay area would like to attend, we’d be honored to have you join with us as we re-affirm our love and commitment to one another before God. Following the very brief ceremony we’ll be celebrating with friends, cake and other yummies. Just send an email to anita at sisterfriends-together.org (replace “at” with “@”) and I’ll send you a link to our evite page that gives all the details for the day.
Oh, and the little clay-headed lesbians above will be topping our wedding cake this Sunday as they did six years ago. They were crafted by Elayne, a friend from my Bible College days and replicated our original wedding outfits; D in her ravishing girlie-girl frock and I in my three piece Eileen Fisher pant suit. A dashing couple, thank you very much.
The beautiful D and her lucky-as-a-dog wife
UPDATE
When D and I went to San Francisco City Hall in 2004 to get married during the brief window of time that had been pried open for gay couples, the place was a mad house with crowds standing outside cheering, protesting and gawking and the line we waited in that day was like a joyously queer line at Disneyland, curving and winding through the basement of City Hall, up onto the main floor and down the corridors. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a “If you aren’t as tall as this line, don’t expect to go on the ride!” sign at some point along the way.
Today was a whole different experience but no less incredible. There were no crowds outside or inside, just scattered couples, gay and straight, checking in for their appointments, filling out forms, or mingling around the hallways and taking in the moment. What a moment. The volunteer staff was delightful; all of them congratulatory and genuinely happy to be participating and everything was well organized, efficient and friendly. Thank you volunteers and City Hall officials, and Mayor Gavin Newsom, I could just pinch your cheeks, you handsome straight man you.
I took a few photos outside City Hall and in the breathtaking rotunda space (where we had our civil ceremony in 2004) and have them posted in an album at our Flickr account. San Francisco City Hall today but coming to a City Hall near you one day. Believe it!
Grace is the unfailing commitment to love all persons, regardless of their beliefs. Only grace makes it possible for those who believe differently to respect and relate to one another. Grace allows us to disagree, to challenge the damaging beliefs of others even as we are challenged and to do this without violating the autonomy and dignity of others. Grace empowers us to embrace deeply divergent convictions even as we embrace one another. We love one another as God loves us - graciously.
Max Lucado
Grace doesn’t have to be logical. If it was, it wouldn’t be grace.
Nicolas Berdyaev
True liberation comes through grace and not through free will.
Paul, the Apostle
By grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not our own doing, it is the gift of God - not because of works, lest any man should boast.
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July 3, 2008 
Posted in Sexual Ethics 
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