I don't know about you, but I always read signs in front of churches. Those message boards that change from time to time. Rarely I find something that is moving or inspiring. More often, I find something that I understand, but I wonder why it's there. Phrases or biblical quotations that really only speak to insiders, those who already know the faith. Not so meaningful to non-Christians.
And then, on occasion, I find my favorites. Things that are just plain stupid or wrong, at least in my opinion. I've been seeing one of these for a week now, wondering when they're going to change it. But it keeps rattling around in my head, and ticking me off.
"Self-esteem comes when acceptable behavior is achieved."
Maybe it's just me, but this seems to be exactly, totally opposite to what real self-esteem is. To seek my sense of worth in the approval of another is not self-esteem.
I will grant that acceptable in this quote probably refers to behavior which is acceptable to God. But I see two problems there. First of all, who gets to say what God believes is acceptable behavior. You can't just look at the Bible, for obvious reasons. There are plenty of biblical behaviors which we certainly don't condone today.
More importantly, God doesn't declare me worthy based on my behavior, but based solely on my existence. My self-esteem is rooted in my own knowledge that I am good in my very creation. My behavior, at its best, comes out of my self-esteem, not the other way around.
Interestingly, Pride Week is coming up here in Birmingham. A reminder that I am proud of who I am, as a Christian, a dad, a gay man. I certainly don't need some pastor telling me that my behavior is acceptable and I can, therefore, feel a sense of my own worth. I'm not proud of what I do, I am proud of who I am. What I do is just a reflection of who I am.
Tonight I'm going to see the Elton John/Tim Rice version of Aida. It's been a busy, busy week and I'm excited to have something fun to do!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
They are all perfect
One of the things some of my close and sincere and totally accepting straight friends don't get is the enormous variety within the gay community and the fact that we don't all get along just because we're gay. Racism and bigotry exist everywhere.
But that's not what I'm really writing about. There is a less serious aspect to our diversity, but which occasionally is brought to my attention. It's the discrimination that more effeminate men sometimes experience. It's one thing to find certainly personalities not attractive to you. That's the nature of attraction. But it's another thing entirely to belittle or denigrate men who are not as butch or masculine, whatever masculinity really is.
I experienced this recently with both a gay friend and a straight friend, on separate occasions. Not directed at me personally. The gay friend was simply commenting on how he doesn't like to be around effeminate guys. The straight friend was talking about a gay friend of mine. Neither of them was being intentionally rude, but caused me to reflect on my own feelings.
At one time, more obviously gay men, at least stereotypically gay, made me uncomfortable. When I was living the straight life, such men were only more visible reminders of my own denied reality. However, since coming out, I find myself enthralled by the wonder of our diversity. The gifts that we each bring to the table and the rewards of relationship with so many different people.
Today I found myself flipping channels and came across The Last Samurai, about half way through, and watched it to the ending. I've always enjoyed it and found it moving as a story of personal redemption and finding meaning in life. Today, I picked up on something I had missed.
Katsumoto was working on a poem about cherry tree blossoms, struggling to fnd the last line. He told Nathan Algren that a lifetime spent searching for the perfect blossom would be a life well spent. Later in the movie, as he was dying in he saw petals blowing in the wind and uttered his last words, "They are all perfect."
The realization that each blossom was perfect in itself, what it was meant to be, is a powerful one. As we are each the image of God, we are each perfect, each in our own way. I hope that I am always able to hold that truth both for my own life and for those of all the perfect images of God I meet along my journey.
On a completely unrelated note, I had an actual, honest-to-goodness date this week. A go out to dinner and drinks sort of date. It was good, and fun, and we're going out again.
-David
But that's not what I'm really writing about. There is a less serious aspect to our diversity, but which occasionally is brought to my attention. It's the discrimination that more effeminate men sometimes experience. It's one thing to find certainly personalities not attractive to you. That's the nature of attraction. But it's another thing entirely to belittle or denigrate men who are not as butch or masculine, whatever masculinity really is.
I experienced this recently with both a gay friend and a straight friend, on separate occasions. Not directed at me personally. The gay friend was simply commenting on how he doesn't like to be around effeminate guys. The straight friend was talking about a gay friend of mine. Neither of them was being intentionally rude, but caused me to reflect on my own feelings.
At one time, more obviously gay men, at least stereotypically gay, made me uncomfortable. When I was living the straight life, such men were only more visible reminders of my own denied reality. However, since coming out, I find myself enthralled by the wonder of our diversity. The gifts that we each bring to the table and the rewards of relationship with so many different people.
Today I found myself flipping channels and came across The Last Samurai, about half way through, and watched it to the ending. I've always enjoyed it and found it moving as a story of personal redemption and finding meaning in life. Today, I picked up on something I had missed.
Katsumoto was working on a poem about cherry tree blossoms, struggling to fnd the last line. He told Nathan Algren that a lifetime spent searching for the perfect blossom would be a life well spent. Later in the movie, as he was dying in he saw petals blowing in the wind and uttered his last words, "They are all perfect."
The realization that each blossom was perfect in itself, what it was meant to be, is a powerful one. As we are each the image of God, we are each perfect, each in our own way. I hope that I am always able to hold that truth both for my own life and for those of all the perfect images of God I meet along my journey.
On a completely unrelated note, I had an actual, honest-to-goodness date this week. A go out to dinner and drinks sort of date. It was good, and fun, and we're going out again.
-David
Friday, May 16, 2008
Good Times
The Tuesday night Men's Chorus concert was a success. There were so many people there. The crowd was quite a bit larger than was expected. As much as I enjoy the weekly practices, there is nothing like the actual performance. I think that for an all volunteer, no audition group, we gave quite a show.
The after party was equally fun, although a bit depressing in that it made it more clear that I won't see some of these guys again until August most likely, when we gather again to start up for the Fall. We have been asked to sing at Central Alabama Pride, though. And I know I'll see some of them over the summer, just not everyone.
Wednesday night a friend came over and cooked dinner for me. Soft blue cheese on baguette slices, asparagus and roasted corn risotto, and steaks. He was actually a little concerned about the steaks because I've never cooked meat in my place. Some seafood, but even that's pretty rare. It's not that I'm a die hard vegetarian. We went out not long ago and I had lamb. But I normally only eat meat when I go out or someone else fixes it. I never have it at home.
I will have to say it was a great dinner. So much so that afterwards, well, quite a bit afterwards, I found myself slipping into that totally full, sleepy state, like you get after Thanksgiving dinner! Of course, I had two glasses of wine with dinner, and that was on top of having already had cocktails before dinner with another friend who just wanted to catch up because we haven't seen each other in forever. I realize that I sound like I've got a great, busy social life, and that I'm a borderline alcoholic, when actually neither of those is true! When it rains, it pours.
Last night, my daughters and I planted herbs in boxes on my balcony. Sometimes I forget how much fun I had with dirt as a kid! It was something so simple to do, and yet so much fun.
Life is good.
-David
The after party was equally fun, although a bit depressing in that it made it more clear that I won't see some of these guys again until August most likely, when we gather again to start up for the Fall. We have been asked to sing at Central Alabama Pride, though. And I know I'll see some of them over the summer, just not everyone.
Wednesday night a friend came over and cooked dinner for me. Soft blue cheese on baguette slices, asparagus and roasted corn risotto, and steaks. He was actually a little concerned about the steaks because I've never cooked meat in my place. Some seafood, but even that's pretty rare. It's not that I'm a die hard vegetarian. We went out not long ago and I had lamb. But I normally only eat meat when I go out or someone else fixes it. I never have it at home.
I will have to say it was a great dinner. So much so that afterwards, well, quite a bit afterwards, I found myself slipping into that totally full, sleepy state, like you get after Thanksgiving dinner! Of course, I had two glasses of wine with dinner, and that was on top of having already had cocktails before dinner with another friend who just wanted to catch up because we haven't seen each other in forever. I realize that I sound like I've got a great, busy social life, and that I'm a borderline alcoholic, when actually neither of those is true! When it rains, it pours.
Last night, my daughters and I planted herbs in boxes on my balcony. Sometimes I forget how much fun I had with dirt as a kid! It was something so simple to do, and yet so much fun.
Life is good.
-David
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Set Free
It's been a week since last I posted, though I've started and stopped a couple of times. It's been a very busy week.
First, to get the easy stuff out of the way, the Men's Chorus of the Magic City Choral Society presents our Spring concert tonight and there's been a lot of rehearsal! But it is so much fun and so rewarding.
The big deal, though, is that Saturday afternoon, my older daughter and her mom came over, and I came out to her. She's 11, old enough to understand being gay without understanding many of the intimate details. Like so much of my coming out experience, it was far, far better than it could have been. In fact, except for about 45 seconds of teary eyes, it was really good.
We spent a lot of time talking about attraction, starting with interracial couples because we had earlier talked with her about that in light of Mildred Loving's recent death. She understood that we don't choose those to whom we are attracted and that sometimes Church and society don't approve, but that doesn't make it wrong. We worked around to the plight of gays and lesbians which she completely understood. We've worked hard to raise tolerant, open-minded, and accepting children. Then she asked me if I am in love with a man. I answered, no, I'm not, but if I were to fall in love, it would be with a man. She made sure I was serious (I might be known for occasionally joking around!). That triggered the brief watery eyes moment, because some kids at school said gay people were scary.
We spent the next half hour talking about all of the gay people she knows, whom she has never known were gay, singles and couples. She was amazed at how many of us there are! And she agreed that they were all nice, normal people. We shared how many people know this already, and that they are all ok with it...family, friends, church members. We let her know that it's up to her as to whether or not to tell her friends and she has a good understanding of those potential consequences, although she is a bit of a free spirit and not as controlled by peer pressure as many of her friends. She knows she has one friend, her best friend, that she can talk to about it because her mother has known for some time and they are also supportive.
I am both relieved that she is handling it so well, so far, and amazed at the sense of a burden lifted for me. I no longer have to worry that she will find out from someone else. I can more openly be myself. She is a little anxious that I'll go out and get married quickly. Part of her likes the idea of having two dads to spoil her, but another part doesn't want to add anyone to our existing family. But her mom talked about that, telling her that each of us deserves to find the most happiness in life that we can find and that happiness for an adult often includes a partner in life and it will be ok to add someone else to our family.
All in all, it was rather amazing. Hopefully it will continue to be so. My younger daughter is 7 and we expect that she will slowly simply come to realize that this is the way my life is shaped. I'm not so sure I'll ever have to deliberately come out to her.
I want to respond here to a comment posted by throughthestorm to the "Jesus was not a coward" post. Finding the best way, the most perfect way, to act in love is often difficult. And it may be different for each of us, even in the same circumstance.
We are called, first, to love God. For me, this is as much about loving myself as anything. For I know that I am in the image of God. That which makes me uniquely me is a reflection of the divine. In my acceptance of and deepening understanding of myself, I am loving God who shaped me as I am. I am gay for a purpose. Whether I believe that God deliberately made me gay for some purpose in God's own mind, or whether I believe that being born gay, God calls me to some purpose reflecting that part of my identity is unimportant. I am gay for a purpose. And it is good that I am gay. It means that I am capable of giving and receiving that deepest and most giving of all loves, capable of sharing the heart of who I am with another human being, wholly and completely. So whatever I choose to do, it must be rooted in this full and complete acceptance of myself and the certain knowledge that I am good.
To show love to my family, that was a difficult path to find. However, my ex-wife and I are utterly convinced that in order to be the human beings we are created to be, we must be authentic to who we are. And for me, part of that is being gay. While we can love each other deeply, it is the love of friendship. Deeper than any other we had, but not the full embrace of love that includes sexuality. And while marriage is more than sex by far, and in the past was more about property than love, our contemporary understanding of marriage includes a romantic love that includes sexuality. I think that's a good thing. It's what we want to model for our children. That healthy relationships include the whole of a person, not just parts.
For us, we were convinced that we could love and raise our daughters as a family while being authentic. And we've been able to do so, so far. It's been almost two years now. Our daughters know that we love them unceasingly and that we are happy with each other and that we are a family. For us, for me, that is love.
While I freely admit that all of us live in different places and walk different paths, I cannot believe that denying a part of ourselves that is so good is ever the best path. It may not be the worst path, but I don't think it's the best. One of the things my therapist asked me to do was to put myself in my children's place, as adults. I did so by imagining what I would have felt like if my mother had remained married to my father for the sake of her children, though she would have been unfulfilled and unhappy. I thought about my former mother-in-law, who remained in such a marriage, a worse marriage, actually. And I knew that as an adult, I would have been deeply saddened to know that my parent had given up so much of her life.
That's not true for everyone, but it's true for me. Divorce is painful and difficult, but for us it has been road to a deeper and more real happiness and joy and freedom.
-David
First, to get the easy stuff out of the way, the Men's Chorus of the Magic City Choral Society presents our Spring concert tonight and there's been a lot of rehearsal! But it is so much fun and so rewarding.
The big deal, though, is that Saturday afternoon, my older daughter and her mom came over, and I came out to her. She's 11, old enough to understand being gay without understanding many of the intimate details. Like so much of my coming out experience, it was far, far better than it could have been. In fact, except for about 45 seconds of teary eyes, it was really good.
We spent a lot of time talking about attraction, starting with interracial couples because we had earlier talked with her about that in light of Mildred Loving's recent death. She understood that we don't choose those to whom we are attracted and that sometimes Church and society don't approve, but that doesn't make it wrong. We worked around to the plight of gays and lesbians which she completely understood. We've worked hard to raise tolerant, open-minded, and accepting children. Then she asked me if I am in love with a man. I answered, no, I'm not, but if I were to fall in love, it would be with a man. She made sure I was serious (I might be known for occasionally joking around!). That triggered the brief watery eyes moment, because some kids at school said gay people were scary.
We spent the next half hour talking about all of the gay people she knows, whom she has never known were gay, singles and couples. She was amazed at how many of us there are! And she agreed that they were all nice, normal people. We shared how many people know this already, and that they are all ok with it...family, friends, church members. We let her know that it's up to her as to whether or not to tell her friends and she has a good understanding of those potential consequences, although she is a bit of a free spirit and not as controlled by peer pressure as many of her friends. She knows she has one friend, her best friend, that she can talk to about it because her mother has known for some time and they are also supportive.
I am both relieved that she is handling it so well, so far, and amazed at the sense of a burden lifted for me. I no longer have to worry that she will find out from someone else. I can more openly be myself. She is a little anxious that I'll go out and get married quickly. Part of her likes the idea of having two dads to spoil her, but another part doesn't want to add anyone to our existing family. But her mom talked about that, telling her that each of us deserves to find the most happiness in life that we can find and that happiness for an adult often includes a partner in life and it will be ok to add someone else to our family.
All in all, it was rather amazing. Hopefully it will continue to be so. My younger daughter is 7 and we expect that she will slowly simply come to realize that this is the way my life is shaped. I'm not so sure I'll ever have to deliberately come out to her.
I want to respond here to a comment posted by throughthestorm to the "Jesus was not a coward" post. Finding the best way, the most perfect way, to act in love is often difficult. And it may be different for each of us, even in the same circumstance.
We are called, first, to love God. For me, this is as much about loving myself as anything. For I know that I am in the image of God. That which makes me uniquely me is a reflection of the divine. In my acceptance of and deepening understanding of myself, I am loving God who shaped me as I am. I am gay for a purpose. Whether I believe that God deliberately made me gay for some purpose in God's own mind, or whether I believe that being born gay, God calls me to some purpose reflecting that part of my identity is unimportant. I am gay for a purpose. And it is good that I am gay. It means that I am capable of giving and receiving that deepest and most giving of all loves, capable of sharing the heart of who I am with another human being, wholly and completely. So whatever I choose to do, it must be rooted in this full and complete acceptance of myself and the certain knowledge that I am good.
To show love to my family, that was a difficult path to find. However, my ex-wife and I are utterly convinced that in order to be the human beings we are created to be, we must be authentic to who we are. And for me, part of that is being gay. While we can love each other deeply, it is the love of friendship. Deeper than any other we had, but not the full embrace of love that includes sexuality. And while marriage is more than sex by far, and in the past was more about property than love, our contemporary understanding of marriage includes a romantic love that includes sexuality. I think that's a good thing. It's what we want to model for our children. That healthy relationships include the whole of a person, not just parts.
For us, we were convinced that we could love and raise our daughters as a family while being authentic. And we've been able to do so, so far. It's been almost two years now. Our daughters know that we love them unceasingly and that we are happy with each other and that we are a family. For us, for me, that is love.
While I freely admit that all of us live in different places and walk different paths, I cannot believe that denying a part of ourselves that is so good is ever the best path. It may not be the worst path, but I don't think it's the best. One of the things my therapist asked me to do was to put myself in my children's place, as adults. I did so by imagining what I would have felt like if my mother had remained married to my father for the sake of her children, though she would have been unfulfilled and unhappy. I thought about my former mother-in-law, who remained in such a marriage, a worse marriage, actually. And I knew that as an adult, I would have been deeply saddened to know that my parent had given up so much of her life.
That's not true for everyone, but it's true for me. Divorce is painful and difficult, but for us it has been road to a deeper and more real happiness and joy and freedom.
-David
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Sometimes it doesn't take much
Now and then I have an experience that reminds me of those bumper stickers about committing acts of random kindness. Often, my experience is not random - it is small and routine and ordinary, but it has a big impact. This past weekend, or actually the last 7 days or so, was filled with such ordinary but meaningful experiences. Perhaps it's my own neediness being fulfilled. In fact, I'm sure that's it. But sometimes the things friends do without thought really just fall into some small empty place that needed to be filled.
I had dinner with a friend, twice in last few days, and a couple of phone calls with another, that came at perfect moments and made me feel just generally happy. Nothing magical, just happy. Interactions that were fun and funny and ordinary and just made the day seem good. Coupled with email and text messages from others, it's just reminded me of how many wonderful people are in my life and how good life really is.
On the negative side, it has reminded me, as I told someone recently, I suck as a friend. I'm horrible about making contact because most of my friends are evidently used to contacting me regularly. So I get to sit back and enjoy the attention. It's really rather selfish of me and I need to do better. Especially after having such a good last week or so all because of others' efforts to maintain relationship with me.
On another, totally unrelated note, I came across some funny lyrics the other day, on a blog and I can't remember whose! Anyway, you can find them here - "Jesus loves me but He can't stand you". I think my favorite line, because it's one I've heard used by people, just not quite with these words - "Jesus loves me, this I know, And he told me where you're gonna go". Hate sin, love the sinner. Whatever.
I find myself more and more unable to understand both the civic and religious opposition to gays and lesbians, bisexual, and transgendered people. I'll leave the civic issues alone, because opposition at that level just seems idiotic in a free country. On the religious side, there was a time when I sincerely understood the position of conservatives, or traditionalists, or reasserters, or whatever you want to call them. But I'm having a harder and harder time with that. The more I experience God's love, and God's call to love and to be love, the more I struggle to understand such exclusion and narrowness of love. How infinite is God and how wondrous and amazing is the incredible diversity and richness of creation! That's my experience. And in that experience, there are no words of unwelcome, no uninvited, no unloved, no unaccepted.
And on yet another note, next Tuesday is the Spring Concert of the Men's Chorus of the Magic City Choral Society. There is one piece we are doing that I am exceptionally UNfond of, but otherwise, there's some good stuff. It's Tuesday, May 13, at 7:30pm at the Southside Baptist Church in Birmingham. A part of it will be a tribute to all of the organizations in the local gay community who have been so supportive of us. And the concert itself, free of charge, is our opportunity to return something both to our gay community and to the larger Birmingham community.
Because of the tribute portion of the concert, and because my daughters will be there, at some point over the next few days I will be sitting down with my oldest daughter and coming out to her. Not that she has any idea what coming out is. But she does know what it means to be gay and is just entering the period of life where so many negative stereotypes will begin to form. Although her mother and I are raising our children to be loving and accepting, we know that peer pressure is powerful. It is important that I be open and honest about myself with them and that they understand that words and ideas are powerful and aren't just about others, but touch all of us. I'm a bit nervous, but not concerned. When she understands that so many of my friends, adults whom she knows and loves, all know and love and accept me, I think that will help her to feel more comfortable.
-David
I had dinner with a friend, twice in last few days, and a couple of phone calls with another, that came at perfect moments and made me feel just generally happy. Nothing magical, just happy. Interactions that were fun and funny and ordinary and just made the day seem good. Coupled with email and text messages from others, it's just reminded me of how many wonderful people are in my life and how good life really is.
On the negative side, it has reminded me, as I told someone recently, I suck as a friend. I'm horrible about making contact because most of my friends are evidently used to contacting me regularly. So I get to sit back and enjoy the attention. It's really rather selfish of me and I need to do better. Especially after having such a good last week or so all because of others' efforts to maintain relationship with me.
On another, totally unrelated note, I came across some funny lyrics the other day, on a blog and I can't remember whose! Anyway, you can find them here - "Jesus loves me but He can't stand you". I think my favorite line, because it's one I've heard used by people, just not quite with these words - "Jesus loves me, this I know, And he told me where you're gonna go". Hate sin, love the sinner. Whatever.
I find myself more and more unable to understand both the civic and religious opposition to gays and lesbians, bisexual, and transgendered people. I'll leave the civic issues alone, because opposition at that level just seems idiotic in a free country. On the religious side, there was a time when I sincerely understood the position of conservatives, or traditionalists, or reasserters, or whatever you want to call them. But I'm having a harder and harder time with that. The more I experience God's love, and God's call to love and to be love, the more I struggle to understand such exclusion and narrowness of love. How infinite is God and how wondrous and amazing is the incredible diversity and richness of creation! That's my experience. And in that experience, there are no words of unwelcome, no uninvited, no unloved, no unaccepted.
And on yet another note, next Tuesday is the Spring Concert of the Men's Chorus of the Magic City Choral Society. There is one piece we are doing that I am exceptionally UNfond of, but otherwise, there's some good stuff. It's Tuesday, May 13, at 7:30pm at the Southside Baptist Church in Birmingham. A part of it will be a tribute to all of the organizations in the local gay community who have been so supportive of us. And the concert itself, free of charge, is our opportunity to return something both to our gay community and to the larger Birmingham community.
Because of the tribute portion of the concert, and because my daughters will be there, at some point over the next few days I will be sitting down with my oldest daughter and coming out to her. Not that she has any idea what coming out is. But she does know what it means to be gay and is just entering the period of life where so many negative stereotypes will begin to form. Although her mother and I are raising our children to be loving and accepting, we know that peer pressure is powerful. It is important that I be open and honest about myself with them and that they understand that words and ideas are powerful and aren't just about others, but touch all of us. I'm a bit nervous, but not concerned. When she understands that so many of my friends, adults whom she knows and loves, all know and love and accept me, I think that will help her to feel more comfortable.
-David
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Jesus Was Not A Coward
This is not my line, but comes from Jerry Falwell, via a local blog I read regularly, Birmingham Blues (http://www.queervoice.net/kmcmullen/). Falwell made the statement in talking about the justification of nuclear weapons, a particularly egregious misreading of Jesus, in my opinion. But the post at Birmingham Blues hit the mark solidly in that one line.
Jesus was not a coward.
In the Deep South, this conjures up an image of the tough guy Jesus, flipping tables over in the Temple and perhaps yelling. Or the brawny jesus as carpenter, unafraid of a little hard work. These images stand in contrast to the oft-portrayed softer Jesus, tender and filled with love and compassion.
Jesus was not a coward. Jesus was tough. Jesus could definitely be an 'in your face' kind of guy.
Falwell might imply that Jesus was all for defending your own, with nuclear weapons if needed. But that's not the courage Jesus demonstrates in the Gospel. Jesus' bravery, his unwavering courage, was in his constant call to love. Love our neighbors. Love our enemies. Love one another. Love God. Love ourselves. No matter what life presents us, no matter what others do or say, we are called to love.
That's tough, in every sense. Not the words of a coward.
When I teach the Confirmation class on Ethics in my parish, though I talk about morality and ethical systems, historically and in the tradition, I come back to a single guiding moral value, that of love. Above all else, we must act in love. If we can do that, we have nothing else to worry about. There are no other moral values, no other ethical choices.
That's not to say that acting in love is easy. There is 'tough love' though it seems to me that most people who talk about tough love seem to enjoy acting in tough love far too much. It is reminiscent of "hate the sin, love the sinner" behavior. Nonetheless, oftentimes love is hard. It's hard to determine what action is most loving and even more often it's just plain hard to show love to some people.
We are both surrounded with opportunities to love and love to accept from others. May my eyes be always open to see both, and may I have the courage to love unrelentingly.
-David
Jesus was not a coward.
In the Deep South, this conjures up an image of the tough guy Jesus, flipping tables over in the Temple and perhaps yelling. Or the brawny jesus as carpenter, unafraid of a little hard work. These images stand in contrast to the oft-portrayed softer Jesus, tender and filled with love and compassion.
Jesus was not a coward. Jesus was tough. Jesus could definitely be an 'in your face' kind of guy.
Falwell might imply that Jesus was all for defending your own, with nuclear weapons if needed. But that's not the courage Jesus demonstrates in the Gospel. Jesus' bravery, his unwavering courage, was in his constant call to love. Love our neighbors. Love our enemies. Love one another. Love God. Love ourselves. No matter what life presents us, no matter what others do or say, we are called to love.
That's tough, in every sense. Not the words of a coward.
When I teach the Confirmation class on Ethics in my parish, though I talk about morality and ethical systems, historically and in the tradition, I come back to a single guiding moral value, that of love. Above all else, we must act in love. If we can do that, we have nothing else to worry about. There are no other moral values, no other ethical choices.
That's not to say that acting in love is easy. There is 'tough love' though it seems to me that most people who talk about tough love seem to enjoy acting in tough love far too much. It is reminiscent of "hate the sin, love the sinner" behavior. Nonetheless, oftentimes love is hard. It's hard to determine what action is most loving and even more often it's just plain hard to show love to some people.
We are both surrounded with opportunities to love and love to accept from others. May my eyes be always open to see both, and may I have the courage to love unrelentingly.
-David
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Fun
I remember back when I was coming out and my therapist told me to expect a bit of a second adolescence. I knew what he was talking about, and some of what I was feeling at the time did hearken back to those turbulent years. The searching for who I am and what I believe and what choices I was going to make for my self. Taking responsibility for my life.
But, of course, it is different when you go through some of that as a fairly well established, responsible adult. The experience of life often keeps you from living with the wild abandon possible as an adolescent and young adult. And that's not a bad thing! I'm much more aware that there are some serious consequences to each and every choice I make.
To my relief, and the surprise of my therapist and some close gay friends, I didn't have a "wild" phase. Or perhaps I've just not had it yet! No, I don't think that's me. I took a slower, thoughtful path as I came out and got involved in the gay community. And now I'm glad I did. Because as I begin to date or seek to date or flirt or whatever is I'm doing, I'm feeling a lot like an adolescent.
There's a bit of the nervousness and fear, but a lot of the rush. I think if I had really started trying to date right out of the closet door, I would have spent a lot of time just hooking up. I can really feel the temptation there. I'm not saying I've been celibate, but I've been pretty deliberate and conscientious.
Lately, I've been quasi-dating someone. I say quasi-dating because neither of wants to call it dating because neither wants a serious relationship right now. It's more of a growing friendship with a lot of flirting. And it's a bit addictive! I do feel like I'm back in high school at times. We have great phone conversations and fun when we are together. At the same time, it's not a dating relationship so I can use the flirting skills I'm honing with him on other guys when the opportunity arises! Basically it's just fun.
I am feeling less and less nervous about dating, and definitely more self-confident. After a couple of months of serious life upheaval around my job, it's nice to feel that so many things are working together well and to feel free to have some fun for a bit.
-David
But, of course, it is different when you go through some of that as a fairly well established, responsible adult. The experience of life often keeps you from living with the wild abandon possible as an adolescent and young adult. And that's not a bad thing! I'm much more aware that there are some serious consequences to each and every choice I make.
To my relief, and the surprise of my therapist and some close gay friends, I didn't have a "wild" phase. Or perhaps I've just not had it yet! No, I don't think that's me. I took a slower, thoughtful path as I came out and got involved in the gay community. And now I'm glad I did. Because as I begin to date or seek to date or flirt or whatever is I'm doing, I'm feeling a lot like an adolescent.
There's a bit of the nervousness and fear, but a lot of the rush. I think if I had really started trying to date right out of the closet door, I would have spent a lot of time just hooking up. I can really feel the temptation there. I'm not saying I've been celibate, but I've been pretty deliberate and conscientious.
Lately, I've been quasi-dating someone. I say quasi-dating because neither of wants to call it dating because neither wants a serious relationship right now. It's more of a growing friendship with a lot of flirting. And it's a bit addictive! I do feel like I'm back in high school at times. We have great phone conversations and fun when we are together. At the same time, it's not a dating relationship so I can use the flirting skills I'm honing with him on other guys when the opportunity arises! Basically it's just fun.
I am feeling less and less nervous about dating, and definitely more self-confident. After a couple of months of serious life upheaval around my job, it's nice to feel that so many things are working together well and to feel free to have some fun for a bit.
-David
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Lovely People
I worked from home today, though not intentionally. Most mornings, as part of my routine, I do a quick log in to see what's on my calendar and check to see if any urgent emails or IMs have arrived for me. Mostly because I am chronically late! This morning opened with several hot issues before I even took my shower and I got so involved I just stayed home and worked. While it was very busy, workwise, the nice thing is that I can take breaks and do stuff here I need to do. Or, I can let the TV play in the background.
Honestly, it is in the background when it's on. I'm not a TV junkie and generally tune it out. In fact, my TV is rarely on. But today a British miniseries was playing, which I've seen before, called "The Line of Beauty". All of a sudden, a line jumped out at me, an intersection with a conversation I had last night with a friend.
"You don't fall in love with someone because they're beautiful. People are lovely because we love them, not the other way around."
Last night, a friend and I were discussing the mysteries of attraction. The inexplicable nature of what draws us to another human being. Of course, physical beauty is undeniable. But I can list, easily, a dozen physically beautiful men I am not the least attracted to, generally because of personality. It's as though I can objectively see the beauty, but it doesn't move me. And there are definitely other guys who don't initially strike me as physically beautiful, who become more and more lovely as I get to know them more.
What a mystery.
-David
Honestly, it is in the background when it's on. I'm not a TV junkie and generally tune it out. In fact, my TV is rarely on. But today a British miniseries was playing, which I've seen before, called "The Line of Beauty". All of a sudden, a line jumped out at me, an intersection with a conversation I had last night with a friend.
"You don't fall in love with someone because they're beautiful. People are lovely because we love them, not the other way around."
Last night, a friend and I were discussing the mysteries of attraction. The inexplicable nature of what draws us to another human being. Of course, physical beauty is undeniable. But I can list, easily, a dozen physically beautiful men I am not the least attracted to, generally because of personality. It's as though I can objectively see the beauty, but it doesn't move me. And there are definitely other guys who don't initially strike me as physically beautiful, who become more and more lovely as I get to know them more.
What a mystery.
-David
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Circles and Intersections
I am still reading "Eat, Pray, Love" and have to say that there are some great bits of truth in her story. Of course, since our stories always reflect our own truths, that’s to be expected. It’s odd how things intersect in life. Or perhaps we just notice those intersections that are important to us at the moment, missing all of the others. In any event, last night I read her struggle with desiring sex, but trying to keep clear her focus on her goal and seeing sex as a distraction to that. Of course, I don’t have some great goal from which sex would be a distraction, I’m just struggling with the desire. To be more precise, I’m struggling with the appropriate circumstances for fulfilling the desire.
I feel a bit like I’m in a cycle. Or at least I keep reliving certain experiences. For some reason, my own coming out has made me a magnet for a couple of other men, married, to share their own struggles or to just admit fully that they are gay. I appreciate their need to talk with someone they perceive as safe. But it is a bit awkward.
Sunday night, at Barnes & Noble, I ran into an old friend. This someone I knew in elementary school, high school, and college, though not well because he is a couple of years younger than I. He saw me in the GLBT section, picking up a copy of "Mississippi Sissy" and that led to questions and a bit of catching up on my story. It’s been perhaps 7 years since we last talked to each other. We talked about his wife, my daughters and their mom, work, life in general. We ended up in the parking lot, at his car, still talking. At some point, he admitted he had fooled around with guys in high school, but not in college, but had again since college. And then, somehow, we wound up kissing. Not too long, but more than just a casual, friendly kiss. Definitely more. And I gave him my number because he asked for it.
And then I got in my car thinking, what am I doing? I realized that I wouldn’t have done this with a stranger. But there is this level of trust with this guy, based on some history. Still, he is married. He shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. But it felt like being in college again, outside the normal rules of life. Only that’s not where I am. This guy is someone I would date in a heartbeat, but I can’t. Because like so many guys I end up talking to, he’s not available!
In a way, this is only a part my feeling like I’m not fully where I need to be. I’m still holding back. Part of that is my daughters. We’ve not yet explained why we divorced yet. And they don’t ask, because in so many ways their lives have gone on with only the absolutely necessary changes involved in my moving out. Otherwise they see us getting along so well and doing things as a family and so there is no real stress or need to understand. Things remain good. I actually don’t have long to keep waiting because they will come to our Men’s Chorus Spring Concert and it will be much more evident than at our inaugural concert that this is the gay men’s chorus. I don’t dread telling them, and think it will be good. I just need to do it. And then, I think, I will begin moving forward more intentionally.
I still have to figure out how to manage my relationship with this old friend, who is married, but kisses so very well!
-David
I feel a bit like I’m in a cycle. Or at least I keep reliving certain experiences. For some reason, my own coming out has made me a magnet for a couple of other men, married, to share their own struggles or to just admit fully that they are gay. I appreciate their need to talk with someone they perceive as safe. But it is a bit awkward.
Sunday night, at Barnes & Noble, I ran into an old friend. This someone I knew in elementary school, high school, and college, though not well because he is a couple of years younger than I. He saw me in the GLBT section, picking up a copy of "Mississippi Sissy" and that led to questions and a bit of catching up on my story. It’s been perhaps 7 years since we last talked to each other. We talked about his wife, my daughters and their mom, work, life in general. We ended up in the parking lot, at his car, still talking. At some point, he admitted he had fooled around with guys in high school, but not in college, but had again since college. And then, somehow, we wound up kissing. Not too long, but more than just a casual, friendly kiss. Definitely more. And I gave him my number because he asked for it.
And then I got in my car thinking, what am I doing? I realized that I wouldn’t have done this with a stranger. But there is this level of trust with this guy, based on some history. Still, he is married. He shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. But it felt like being in college again, outside the normal rules of life. Only that’s not where I am. This guy is someone I would date in a heartbeat, but I can’t. Because like so many guys I end up talking to, he’s not available!
In a way, this is only a part my feeling like I’m not fully where I need to be. I’m still holding back. Part of that is my daughters. We’ve not yet explained why we divorced yet. And they don’t ask, because in so many ways their lives have gone on with only the absolutely necessary changes involved in my moving out. Otherwise they see us getting along so well and doing things as a family and so there is no real stress or need to understand. Things remain good. I actually don’t have long to keep waiting because they will come to our Men’s Chorus Spring Concert and it will be much more evident than at our inaugural concert that this is the gay men’s chorus. I don’t dread telling them, and think it will be good. I just need to do it. And then, I think, I will begin moving forward more intentionally.
I still have to figure out how to manage my relationship with this old friend, who is married, but kisses so very well!
-David
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Vision
I am serving on my parish's search committee as we seek a new priest. We have just begun the process and another committee is beginning the work of self-study and development of a vision of who we are and where we see ourselves going. I'm not involved in that, to every one's relief. I get lost in the minutiae of gathering and collating the thoughts of a few hundred people! But I did come across a terribly apropos blog post at Father Jake's. Please read it in its entirety:
Evangelism for Today's World: Radical Welcome
The notion of radical welcome is both wonderful and scary. Sort of like the whole Gospel. And maybe that is the whole Gospel. God's radical welcome of us. Elizabeth Gilbert, in "Eat, Pray, Love" quotes one of her teachers in India as saying something along the lines of "God is in you, as you." I quoted that during our search committee retreat. As we were seeking to identify our own gifts and vision, I encouraged people to recognize that who they are is a reflection of God's very image. That's not to say we don't all have things to improve. But at my core, I am the image of God. And it is that, the heart of my humanity, that God welcomes. I am not like others, and yet I am inescapably bound to all of my sisters and brothers.
Father Jake quotes Archbishop Desmond Tutu in talking about Ubuntu, the idea that we are persons only through other people, our humanity is never a solitary proposition. In light of that, which I think is very reflective of the biblical ideal of community, isn't it vital that we welcome and embrace all who come to us? That we realize that only in accepting others can we accept our own humanity and accept God.
I shared this, in a longer and more wordy email, with the chair of our committee and expressed the hope that this is my vision for our parish, indeed for the whole of the Church.
On a more personal and mundane note, I got a text from a friend, a recently divorced woman, the other day, asking why every man who is emotionally, financially, or mentally unstable is totally attracted to her. I responded that anytime a man lets me know he finds me attractive, I know immediately he is either married, partnered, or dating! And that's almost the truth. The guys with whom I share the most mutual attraction, all totally innocent, are all unavailable. Of course, part of the attraction on my part is the stable and committed relationship I am witnessing!
Except for this one guy. Who reminds, slightly, of the guy I wrote about a while back. The one who deep down wants to be straight and only wants a relationship with another "straight" guy. Anway, this friend really wants to date me, at least that's what I'm picking up from him. Besides the fact that I'm only mildly physically attracted to him, he's one of the I'm gay but in the closet but not really in the closet but don't like the "scene" kind of guys.
OK, so I get the guys who don't like the "scene", whatever that is. Because in my experience, there are just lots of scenes and lots of guys overlapping from one to the other. In a smaller city like Birmingham, lots of guys who aren't really clubing types are at a club because our options aren't as diverse as in larger cities. It's more about seeing people you know. And I get that the community can be superficial. But so can every community. And I understand that some people don't like the idea of advertising their sexuality, although my straight friends do it in small and large ways all the time without even thinking about it.
But I'm not sure I can date someone who seems so unhappy with the gay community and, seemingly at some level, with being gay. I mean, I love being involved in the community. I love singing in the chorus. I love doing things at Birmingham AIDS Outreach. I love volunteering with Equality Alabama. I like going to Pride and seeing the enormous diversity, from the tables of people selling things that I'm sure are probably illegal in this repressive state to the beautiful sounds of the Covenant Community Church choir on stage.
Actually, I guess after writing that, I know I can't date someone who is basically not happy with things that mean something to me. So that question is answered. What is unanswered is why do I feel like a magnet for the unavailable or those who don't share many of my values?!? Of course, if I'm a magnet for them, I guess that means I should just keep trying. The more involved I am, the more people I meet, as friends as well as perhaps a potential date!
-David
Evangelism for Today's World: Radical Welcome
The notion of radical welcome is both wonderful and scary. Sort of like the whole Gospel. And maybe that is the whole Gospel. God's radical welcome of us. Elizabeth Gilbert, in "Eat, Pray, Love" quotes one of her teachers in India as saying something along the lines of "God is in you, as you." I quoted that during our search committee retreat. As we were seeking to identify our own gifts and vision, I encouraged people to recognize that who they are is a reflection of God's very image. That's not to say we don't all have things to improve. But at my core, I am the image of God. And it is that, the heart of my humanity, that God welcomes. I am not like others, and yet I am inescapably bound to all of my sisters and brothers.
Father Jake quotes Archbishop Desmond Tutu in talking about Ubuntu, the idea that we are persons only through other people, our humanity is never a solitary proposition. In light of that, which I think is very reflective of the biblical ideal of community, isn't it vital that we welcome and embrace all who come to us? That we realize that only in accepting others can we accept our own humanity and accept God.
I shared this, in a longer and more wordy email, with the chair of our committee and expressed the hope that this is my vision for our parish, indeed for the whole of the Church.
On a more personal and mundane note, I got a text from a friend, a recently divorced woman, the other day, asking why every man who is emotionally, financially, or mentally unstable is totally attracted to her. I responded that anytime a man lets me know he finds me attractive, I know immediately he is either married, partnered, or dating! And that's almost the truth. The guys with whom I share the most mutual attraction, all totally innocent, are all unavailable. Of course, part of the attraction on my part is the stable and committed relationship I am witnessing!
Except for this one guy. Who reminds, slightly, of the guy I wrote about a while back. The one who deep down wants to be straight and only wants a relationship with another "straight" guy. Anway, this friend really wants to date me, at least that's what I'm picking up from him. Besides the fact that I'm only mildly physically attracted to him, he's one of the I'm gay but in the closet but not really in the closet but don't like the "scene" kind of guys.
OK, so I get the guys who don't like the "scene", whatever that is. Because in my experience, there are just lots of scenes and lots of guys overlapping from one to the other. In a smaller city like Birmingham, lots of guys who aren't really clubing types are at a club because our options aren't as diverse as in larger cities. It's more about seeing people you know. And I get that the community can be superficial. But so can every community. And I understand that some people don't like the idea of advertising their sexuality, although my straight friends do it in small and large ways all the time without even thinking about it.
But I'm not sure I can date someone who seems so unhappy with the gay community and, seemingly at some level, with being gay. I mean, I love being involved in the community. I love singing in the chorus. I love doing things at Birmingham AIDS Outreach. I love volunteering with Equality Alabama. I like going to Pride and seeing the enormous diversity, from the tables of people selling things that I'm sure are probably illegal in this repressive state to the beautiful sounds of the Covenant Community Church choir on stage.
Actually, I guess after writing that, I know I can't date someone who is basically not happy with things that mean something to me. So that question is answered. What is unanswered is why do I feel like a magnet for the unavailable or those who don't share many of my values?!? Of course, if I'm a magnet for them, I guess that means I should just keep trying. The more involved I am, the more people I meet, as friends as well as perhaps a potential date!
-David
Thursday, April 10, 2008
The Cusp
I feel like I am walking this narrow precipice with my past on one side, somewhat dark and better left behind because of all the secrecy there, and my future on the other, bright and hopeful, but scary. Not scary in a terrifying way, but in the way the unknown fills you with anticipation, excitement, worry, concern. So out of control.
My problem is that I am standing on this cusp, but I don't know how to step forward. I know that I want to. I just cannot quite figure out how to do it.
Generally, I am a shy person. Spending an entire life trying to hide who you are seems to create all sorts of social difficulties even after you embrace all of yourself and live openly. I've always held back when meeting people, lest they see enough of me to see through me. To be honest, it wasn't that difficult to see through me, but I still tried to hide it. I am still adjusting to being more comfortable with friendly, affectionate physical contact with men. During my years in the closet, physical touch was definitely out of bounds. Too risky on so many levels.
I am still learning my way around, as it were, and sometimes I'm not quite sure where to go. The path is a bit dim some days and on others there are so many turns and directions I cannot possibly decide where I am going.
Honestly, though, the only thing that holds me back is myself. In some ways, life in the closet
was much easier because I didn't have to take so much responsibility for where I was and who I am. Now my life is mine to shape and sometimes I'm so afraid of screwing it up.
-David
My problem is that I am standing on this cusp, but I don't know how to step forward. I know that I want to. I just cannot quite figure out how to do it.
Generally, I am a shy person. Spending an entire life trying to hide who you are seems to create all sorts of social difficulties even after you embrace all of yourself and live openly. I've always held back when meeting people, lest they see enough of me to see through me. To be honest, it wasn't that difficult to see through me, but I still tried to hide it. I am still adjusting to being more comfortable with friendly, affectionate physical contact with men. During my years in the closet, physical touch was definitely out of bounds. Too risky on so many levels.
I am still learning my way around, as it were, and sometimes I'm not quite sure where to go. The path is a bit dim some days and on others there are so many turns and directions I cannot possibly decide where I am going.
Honestly, though, the only thing that holds me back is myself. In some ways, life in the closet
was much easier because I didn't have to take so much responsibility for where I was and who I am. Now my life is mine to shape and sometimes I'm so afraid of screwing it up.
-David
Sunday, April 06, 2008
So much....
Sometimes so much comes at me that I cannot find words or thoughts or feelings to capture it all.
Saturday night I found myself at a party for the chorus (The Magic City Choral Society Men's Chorus) in which I sing. The few times I am at an event surrounded by other gay people, such as the GCN conference in DC this past January or this party, I am amazed at how much sense the world suddenly makes. I tell my handful of gay friends that I live in an overwhelmingly straight world. In one sense, as a small minority, we all do. But my world was built around straight people. My parish is full of straight people, except for me. All of my closest and oldest friends are straight. Everyone I work with is straight. So much so that I sometimes forget the difference. Until I'm with a large group of gay people and all of a sudden I realize that in some important ways, these are people who see and experience the world and personal relationships in ways that I share. And it is just liberating. That's really the word for my experience of it. It was a great party and a chance to begin getting know some of the men I see week after week, but don't really spend much time with on a personal level. It helped me realize that a significant part of the loneliness I sometimes feel is not about an intimate relationship, but about friendship.
This morning, as I sat listening to the Scripture readings, a phrase from Acts leapt out and almost grabbed me. I was surprised at this because I thought I would be totally focused on the Gospel, the story of the two friends traveling to Emmaus, my favorite of all biblical stories. But the words from Acts were all I could think of.
"The promise is for you."
These words grabbed me hard and personally. They were words I desperately needed to hear. I have lately found myself, more often, feeling unwelcome. My parish is in no way unwelcoming. But it is the constant division in the Episcopal Church over the role of gays and lesbians. I understand the arguments, the struggle, the very real pain on the part of many straight people in wrestling with these issues. But on my side of this fence, I feel excluded, left out, second class. I want to stand and shout - I am a person, a child of God, a lover no different than you.
"The promise is for you."
It is for me. No matter what any person, any priest or bishop, or my Church might ever say, the promise is for me. I am God's beloved. My love is rooted in God and I am the image of God, all of me. While I didn't leave church with my discontent resolved, I felt at peace with myself, if not with my Church.
This afternoon, I found myself swirling in turmoil and confusion. And I'll be honest. It was, is, rooted in lust. Or at least that's the trigger.
I met a guy this afternoon, totally randomly, innocently, and unexpectedly. We struck up a conversation, talking about books we like, current events. It was random, but totally appropriate. It was odd, and I suspected that he was interested in me beyond what would happen with a straight guy. As it turns out, he was. And I liked that, because he is a smart, attractive, and successful attorney. After we crossed that awkward point, in realizing that we were attracted to each other, we began talking a bit more about our personal life. And that's when I began to be uneasy. I was intensely attracted to him and thought that this would be someone worth getting to know. But as he talked, I became aware that at the root, he was unhappy with his attraction to men, though he enjoyed it physically, and wanted me to the be same. I suppose it made it safe for him. Made it possible for him to be "straight" and still do something else when he wanted.
I wanted to be someone he would like. He did like me and we connected, but clearly, if we were going to continue to talk, and to possibly talk again, I couldn't be who I am. Proud of who I am. Can I hide that? Just because some guy comes so incredibly close to being physically and mentally perfect for me, at least insofar as I can judge that on an hour of conversation?
No. Randomly, or perhaps an evidence of grace, my mind dredged up that phrase from Acts. The promise is for you. It is for me. As I am. Proud. Out. Confident.
So I was honest. To his credit, he was honest in return. Basically, he was looking for a "straight" guy. Initially, he was very attracted to me. Actually, he still was. Mentally, intellectually, on a potential friend level, he felt a strong connection. And he wasn't really homophobic. At least not in an open way. But a guy who is gay, who knows he is gay, and is happy being gay, that was more than he can be comfortable with. So that was that. Very polite. No problem.
There was, of course, a sense of disappointment for me, but nothing serious. However, I was upset with myself that I actually considered pretending to be something I'm not just to get to know this guy. I seriously considered it. It wasn't a passing thought. It was a real contemplation of how I could make this work.
Am I so easily tempted by lust? Because, honestly, that's what it was. I hate to think that I can be so easily led to suppress my identity, an identity I've struggled to embrace.
There is always something to work on.
-David
Saturday night I found myself at a party for the chorus (The Magic City Choral Society Men's Chorus) in which I sing. The few times I am at an event surrounded by other gay people, such as the GCN conference in DC this past January or this party, I am amazed at how much sense the world suddenly makes. I tell my handful of gay friends that I live in an overwhelmingly straight world. In one sense, as a small minority, we all do. But my world was built around straight people. My parish is full of straight people, except for me. All of my closest and oldest friends are straight. Everyone I work with is straight. So much so that I sometimes forget the difference. Until I'm with a large group of gay people and all of a sudden I realize that in some important ways, these are people who see and experience the world and personal relationships in ways that I share. And it is just liberating. That's really the word for my experience of it. It was a great party and a chance to begin getting know some of the men I see week after week, but don't really spend much time with on a personal level. It helped me realize that a significant part of the loneliness I sometimes feel is not about an intimate relationship, but about friendship.
This morning, as I sat listening to the Scripture readings, a phrase from Acts leapt out and almost grabbed me. I was surprised at this because I thought I would be totally focused on the Gospel, the story of the two friends traveling to Emmaus, my favorite of all biblical stories. But the words from Acts were all I could think of.
"The promise is for you."
These words grabbed me hard and personally. They were words I desperately needed to hear. I have lately found myself, more often, feeling unwelcome. My parish is in no way unwelcoming. But it is the constant division in the Episcopal Church over the role of gays and lesbians. I understand the arguments, the struggle, the very real pain on the part of many straight people in wrestling with these issues. But on my side of this fence, I feel excluded, left out, second class. I want to stand and shout - I am a person, a child of God, a lover no different than you.
"The promise is for you."
It is for me. No matter what any person, any priest or bishop, or my Church might ever say, the promise is for me. I am God's beloved. My love is rooted in God and I am the image of God, all of me. While I didn't leave church with my discontent resolved, I felt at peace with myself, if not with my Church.
This afternoon, I found myself swirling in turmoil and confusion. And I'll be honest. It was, is, rooted in lust. Or at least that's the trigger.
I met a guy this afternoon, totally randomly, innocently, and unexpectedly. We struck up a conversation, talking about books we like, current events. It was random, but totally appropriate. It was odd, and I suspected that he was interested in me beyond what would happen with a straight guy. As it turns out, he was. And I liked that, because he is a smart, attractive, and successful attorney. After we crossed that awkward point, in realizing that we were attracted to each other, we began talking a bit more about our personal life. And that's when I began to be uneasy. I was intensely attracted to him and thought that this would be someone worth getting to know. But as he talked, I became aware that at the root, he was unhappy with his attraction to men, though he enjoyed it physically, and wanted me to the be same. I suppose it made it safe for him. Made it possible for him to be "straight" and still do something else when he wanted.
I wanted to be someone he would like. He did like me and we connected, but clearly, if we were going to continue to talk, and to possibly talk again, I couldn't be who I am. Proud of who I am. Can I hide that? Just because some guy comes so incredibly close to being physically and mentally perfect for me, at least insofar as I can judge that on an hour of conversation?
No. Randomly, or perhaps an evidence of grace, my mind dredged up that phrase from Acts. The promise is for you. It is for me. As I am. Proud. Out. Confident.
So I was honest. To his credit, he was honest in return. Basically, he was looking for a "straight" guy. Initially, he was very attracted to me. Actually, he still was. Mentally, intellectually, on a potential friend level, he felt a strong connection. And he wasn't really homophobic. At least not in an open way. But a guy who is gay, who knows he is gay, and is happy being gay, that was more than he can be comfortable with. So that was that. Very polite. No problem.
There was, of course, a sense of disappointment for me, but nothing serious. However, I was upset with myself that I actually considered pretending to be something I'm not just to get to know this guy. I seriously considered it. It wasn't a passing thought. It was a real contemplation of how I could make this work.
Am I so easily tempted by lust? Because, honestly, that's what it was. I hate to think that I can be so easily led to suppress my identity, an identity I've struggled to embrace.
There is always something to work on.
-David
Friday, March 21, 2008
Good Friday
It seems that every year I hear a sermon that involves a play on the word Good associated with this darkest day of the Christian year. But this year, for me, this has been a good day.
Today, on what was to be my last day in the office, I was asked to take a job in another group. It's the kind of opportunity I've wanted for quite some time and it appeared suddenly, right as things were at their end. Appropriate for a day of darkness that looks forward to the light.
I've come to accept that my life is so filled with grace, unexpected and undeserved. There have been times on this difficult journey into honesty and integrity that I've felt guilty because I have suffered so little. My family, my friends, my ex-wife, all have been gracious and loving and supportive in ways I never imagined.
When life is at its darkest, I've learned to wait for the light. It doesn't always come from the direction I'm looking, nor does it always illuminate what I expect. But where I was blind, now I see.
-David
Today, on what was to be my last day in the office, I was asked to take a job in another group. It's the kind of opportunity I've wanted for quite some time and it appeared suddenly, right as things were at their end. Appropriate for a day of darkness that looks forward to the light.
I've come to accept that my life is so filled with grace, unexpected and undeserved. There have been times on this difficult journey into honesty and integrity that I've felt guilty because I have suffered so little. My family, my friends, my ex-wife, all have been gracious and loving and supportive in ways I never imagined.
When life is at its darkest, I've learned to wait for the light. It doesn't always come from the direction I'm looking, nor does it always illuminate what I expect. But where I was blind, now I see.
-David
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Love One Another
Maundy Thursday. So many images, memories, meanings for me. This is one of the high points of the whole Easter drama for me. Washing feet. An act of such humility and so ordinary, so earthy. Not like baptism, which is so symbolic and barely resembles a bath. Not like the Eucharist, with its actions and ritual, its solemnity and sense of the sacred.
No, this is so ordinary. Water. Benches. Towels. Basins. Feet. And yet, I am moved to tears each and every year. Seeing my brothers and sisters caring for one another in this way. Serving one another. Demonstrating our love for one another.
This day is also the memorial of my mother's death. I don't remember the actual date, because that event is forever entwined with this one. I spent much of my day at the hospital with her, leaving only to attend church that evening. Leaving her resting but stable. In the middle of the service my pager went off and I left immediately for the hospital, fortunately arriving shortly before she died. I count myself so blessed to have held her as she breathed her last breath, her arm glistening with my tears. I later learned that my priest, seeing me leave quickly, knew what had happened and that my mother was memorialized at that celebration of the Eucharist. Almost immediately at her death, her name and memory were lifted to heaven by my faithful brothers and sisters.
More than Christmas, more than Easter, this particular day moves at the center of my life of faith. In simple acts of kindness and grace, we show to one another love. We answer our calling to be human. I find myself always on this day reminded that life is finite and filled with loss and grief, but that we are called to reach beyond the finite and beyond the hurt and to love one another. To touch and wash and heal and care. We are one family, bound together in sadness and joy.
I give you a new commandment: Love one another.
No, this is so ordinary. Water. Benches. Towels. Basins. Feet. And yet, I am moved to tears each and every year. Seeing my brothers and sisters caring for one another in this way. Serving one another. Demonstrating our love for one another.
This day is also the memorial of my mother's death. I don't remember the actual date, because that event is forever entwined with this one. I spent much of my day at the hospital with her, leaving only to attend church that evening. Leaving her resting but stable. In the middle of the service my pager went off and I left immediately for the hospital, fortunately arriving shortly before she died. I count myself so blessed to have held her as she breathed her last breath, her arm glistening with my tears. I later learned that my priest, seeing me leave quickly, knew what had happened and that my mother was memorialized at that celebration of the Eucharist. Almost immediately at her death, her name and memory were lifted to heaven by my faithful brothers and sisters.
More than Christmas, more than Easter, this particular day moves at the center of my life of faith. In simple acts of kindness and grace, we show to one another love. We answer our calling to be human. I find myself always on this day reminded that life is finite and filled with loss and grief, but that we are called to reach beyond the finite and beyond the hurt and to love one another. To touch and wash and heal and care. We are one family, bound together in sadness and joy.
I give you a new commandment: Love one another.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
What do I do with the rest of my life?
I almost hesitate to write this, because it seems like it will never be final, but it looks like my last day of employment will be this Friday. It's been over a year in coming. Not literally, but the stress and worry has been that long.
Over a year ago, my employer merged with a larger company. One of the largest companies in the US. In the world. And I became a much smaller fish in a much bigger pond. In January my job was declared redundant and I became a surplus employee. Surplus. Are people ever rightfully considered surplus? I'm just an unnecessary extra now.
But then there was a concerted effort to find a way to keep me. And we thought it had worked out, until yesterday. And so Friday moved from my possible last day to my definite last day. Except now I'm hearing that maybe something will still happen by then. It's really more up and down than any one man should have to take!
In any event, the whole process has set me on a path of wondering what I'm going to do next. It's as though someone hit the reset button on my entire life about two years ago and it's finally finishing booting back up. Everything is new.
One of the thoughts that pervades my contemplation is that I want to do something I find meaningful. Something with purpose. Making some sort of positive difference. Unfortunately, the meaningless job I've had all these years has paid really well. And nothing I really want to do pays anything close to what I've been making. I think I can handle that. I'm not really materially needy. But I do have my daughters to worry about. There, though, I have an incredible ex-wife, who I think will always be one of my best friends and supporters. She's been concerned that I pay too much child support for a while (is it really possible for me to contribute too much to my children - I've never thought so). So she has really been encouraging and insistent that everything will work out. And truly I believe this.
Somehow, things always manage to work. Not in the way I might envision, but still, I'm left on my feet and breathing and surrounded by love. But still, what in the world am I going to do with the rest of my life??
-David
Over a year ago, my employer merged with a larger company. One of the largest companies in the US. In the world. And I became a much smaller fish in a much bigger pond. In January my job was declared redundant and I became a surplus employee. Surplus. Are people ever rightfully considered surplus? I'm just an unnecessary extra now.
But then there was a concerted effort to find a way to keep me. And we thought it had worked out, until yesterday. And so Friday moved from my possible last day to my definite last day. Except now I'm hearing that maybe something will still happen by then. It's really more up and down than any one man should have to take!
In any event, the whole process has set me on a path of wondering what I'm going to do next. It's as though someone hit the reset button on my entire life about two years ago and it's finally finishing booting back up. Everything is new.
One of the thoughts that pervades my contemplation is that I want to do something I find meaningful. Something with purpose. Making some sort of positive difference. Unfortunately, the meaningless job I've had all these years has paid really well. And nothing I really want to do pays anything close to what I've been making. I think I can handle that. I'm not really materially needy. But I do have my daughters to worry about. There, though, I have an incredible ex-wife, who I think will always be one of my best friends and supporters. She's been concerned that I pay too much child support for a while (is it really possible for me to contribute too much to my children - I've never thought so). So she has really been encouraging and insistent that everything will work out. And truly I believe this.
Somehow, things always manage to work. Not in the way I might envision, but still, I'm left on my feet and breathing and surrounded by love. But still, what in the world am I going to do with the rest of my life??
-David
Sunday, March 02, 2008
One Thing I Do Know
I started blogging some time ago, when I began to seriously journal, as part of coming out. But the blog got messy, and somewhat pointless. So I’m starting again. Partly as a personal commitment to journal more regularly, but to do so in a different way. Less random and shallow in terms of subject. I cringe when I read portions of my journal. It’s important to just be open and honest, but I need something to challenge me to think more deeply as well, so this will be that something.
One Thing I Do Know
This morning I sat in the congregation. That’s unusual. I’m normally in the choir, but I have a cold and can’t really sing so I decided to worship from a different perspective. I find it’s much easier to actually listen to the word and music, to experience the liturgy, when I’m not looking at all those faces.
The lectionary readings this morning were long. The story of Samuel anointing the boy David and the Gospel story of Jesus healing the blind man with mud made with his spit. In between these, the assigned Epistle was from Ephesians, living as children of light. Now I really like this passage, and it is was the subject of the sermon. But what stuck with me, what really pierced me, was the ending of the Gospel. This nameless man whom Jesus healed was questioned by the Pharisees over and over as to who was this healer. In the end, the man says simply that he doesn’t really know but this: “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
One thing I do know. For some reason, this jumped from the Deacon’s mouth as she read it and made a line straight for me. I so often feel like this poor man being bombarded with questions – What do you know? What do you think? How? Why? Are you sure? What if?
One thing I do know. What do I know? If it comes right down to it, to the very bottom, the last strand on the rope that holds me, what is it? What one thing do I know? The “right” answer, being the Christian that I am, would be that I know Jesus loves me. Sounds trite, but it means a great deal. But is that it? Is that the one thing I do know?
I thought about the man in the story and the nature of his answer. He didn’t know if Jesus loved him. He didn’t know if Jesus was a prophet or a sinner. He thought Jesus was a prophet, but when it came down to it, he had to admit that he didn’t know. I think that I am loved by God. Everything in my life story points to that. But can I say it is the one thing? Well, no, I can’t. I can believe it. I can hope it. I can think it. But, honestly, I cannot know it.
The only thing I can know, really know for sure, comes from within me. I can know how I feel about someone. They may be confusing feelings, but if I try, I can put names to the morass of emotions that make up most of my relationships. I can know what I like, what I dislike. I know what motivates me and discourages me. I know a lot about me. But what is the one thing I do know. Again, going way down to the bottom. What do I find there. It cannot come from or depend on something outside of me, like saying I am good because I am the image of God and God’s creation is good. And, boy, do I like telling myself that! But no, this has to come from me. From the reality which I totally and fully experience inside myself.
The one thing that I do know is that I have love. And because I have love, I want love. It’s two sides of the same thing, I think. But the one thing I do know is love, love deep within me.
And what really matters to me is what I do with this one thing I do know. How do I give that love to others. That matters. Unless I share it, unless I am open, honest, and sincere, I am not true to what lies at my core. I am not me.
The last couple of years have been about being me. Well, more about really learning how to be me, fully and sincerely. I could say it’s about no longer living a lie, but I don’t feel that. It’s more about living all of the truth.
I plan to spend the remaining days and weeks of Lent really reflecting on how I live in love. How I am honest with myself and others. And challenging myself to be more honest, more genuine, more loving.
-David
One Thing I Do Know
This morning I sat in the congregation. That’s unusual. I’m normally in the choir, but I have a cold and can’t really sing so I decided to worship from a different perspective. I find it’s much easier to actually listen to the word and music, to experience the liturgy, when I’m not looking at all those faces.
The lectionary readings this morning were long. The story of Samuel anointing the boy David and the Gospel story of Jesus healing the blind man with mud made with his spit. In between these, the assigned Epistle was from Ephesians, living as children of light. Now I really like this passage, and it is was the subject of the sermon. But what stuck with me, what really pierced me, was the ending of the Gospel. This nameless man whom Jesus healed was questioned by the Pharisees over and over as to who was this healer. In the end, the man says simply that he doesn’t really know but this: “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
One thing I do know. For some reason, this jumped from the Deacon’s mouth as she read it and made a line straight for me. I so often feel like this poor man being bombarded with questions – What do you know? What do you think? How? Why? Are you sure? What if?
One thing I do know. What do I know? If it comes right down to it, to the very bottom, the last strand on the rope that holds me, what is it? What one thing do I know? The “right” answer, being the Christian that I am, would be that I know Jesus loves me. Sounds trite, but it means a great deal. But is that it? Is that the one thing I do know?
I thought about the man in the story and the nature of his answer. He didn’t know if Jesus loved him. He didn’t know if Jesus was a prophet or a sinner. He thought Jesus was a prophet, but when it came down to it, he had to admit that he didn’t know. I think that I am loved by God. Everything in my life story points to that. But can I say it is the one thing? Well, no, I can’t. I can believe it. I can hope it. I can think it. But, honestly, I cannot know it.
The only thing I can know, really know for sure, comes from within me. I can know how I feel about someone. They may be confusing feelings, but if I try, I can put names to the morass of emotions that make up most of my relationships. I can know what I like, what I dislike. I know what motivates me and discourages me. I know a lot about me. But what is the one thing I do know. Again, going way down to the bottom. What do I find there. It cannot come from or depend on something outside of me, like saying I am good because I am the image of God and God’s creation is good. And, boy, do I like telling myself that! But no, this has to come from me. From the reality which I totally and fully experience inside myself.
The one thing that I do know is that I have love. And because I have love, I want love. It’s two sides of the same thing, I think. But the one thing I do know is love, love deep within me.
And what really matters to me is what I do with this one thing I do know. How do I give that love to others. That matters. Unless I share it, unless I am open, honest, and sincere, I am not true to what lies at my core. I am not me.
The last couple of years have been about being me. Well, more about really learning how to be me, fully and sincerely. I could say it’s about no longer living a lie, but I don’t feel that. It’s more about living all of the truth.
I plan to spend the remaining days and weeks of Lent really reflecting on how I live in love. How I am honest with myself and others. And challenging myself to be more honest, more genuine, more loving.
-David
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