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