More on Warren and Obama

Here's some more thoughts on Warren and Obama. As the national dialog continues, I really do see a lot of good coming from this: (this is originally posted on the William Penn House blog)

I often find myself, as the "gay guy who has worked with evangelicals", being asked my opinion about Rick Warren being such a visible part of the upcoming inauguration. Here are some of my responses:

1. I fully understand the disappointment and anger, especially on the heels of the passage of Proposition 8.

2. I'm not sure it's fair to say that Obama has "turned" on anything as much as partisans on the left (including glbt advocates) were blinded by their own zeal. Obama has been to Saddleback a few times (including HIV testing w/Sen Brownback a few years ago). Obama never said he supports same-sex marriage - in fact he has said the opposite. He certainly never claimed to make gay rights a priority.

3. I'm not sure that Obama is simply trying to woo people who did not support him. Obama won California fairly easily, but Prop 8 also passed. Clearly, many Obama supporters voted for Prop 8. I'm guessing if Obama were more assertive about gay rights, he would have had a narrower victory.

4. On a more "Quaker" level, anger is divisive. Is it our role, as Quakers, to necessarily have to choose sides on this issue, or can we find a more loving response? Rather than lament and fight, what if we were to instead say "this decision has been made. What is ours to do now?"

5. I think the gay community would do well to understand that there have been so many advancements over the past decade that society needs a rest. We are on a positive course without a doubt, and within ten years all will be well. In the meantime, let's step up responsibility rhetoric, rather than rights. An example? Let's step up HIV-prevention. There's too much complacency and even complicitness in the gay bars, pornography, and internet. We cannot simply sit back and blame the government for the continuing spread of HIV in the gay community.

6. Finally, I think the Warren announcement gives pause: let's look at the entirety of this person and of the movement. Much is being exposed. Warren has done a lot for poverty and AIDS. He (and moreso his wife, Kay) have talked of being open and loving to people with AIDS. How does this settle with judgment of those at-risk for HIV: do they need to get HIV for us to care? Warren has also been clear that his belief does come with questioning. In addition, I know many evangelical Christians who are also upset by this announcement, and also many non-evangelicals who have really liked Warren's work and now are re-thinking that because they did not know his stance on glbt marriage. Anything that exposes where we truly are in society, I think is a good thing.

Basically, I think this, along with the passage of Prop 8, are quickly going to be "2steps back, 4 steps forward". We are already seeing this as a new level of dialog has emerged about gay rights, the fullness of people like Rick Warren, how he differs from the Pat Robertson/James Dobson crowd, and the hypocricy of being a "leader" in the fight against AIDS while being against gay rights. An example is Frank Rich's column (12/28/08) where he says: "Equally lame is the argument mounted by an Obama spokeswoman, Linda Douglass, who talks of how Warren has fought for 'people who have H.I.V./AIDS.' Shouldn’t that be the default position of any religious leader? Fighting AIDS is not a get-out-of-homophobia-free card. That Bush finally joined Bono in doing the right thing about AIDS in Africa does not mitigate the gay-baiting of his 2004 campaign, let alone his silence and utter inaction when the epidemic was killing Texans by the thousands, many of them gay men, during his term as governor." Bringing the long needed discussion of the separation of AIDS work from the people who get HIV/AIDS and how they get it to the forefront can only be a good thing.

I think, ultimately, a lot of good can come from this. What will only delay the progress from here is letting anger get the best of us.

Rick Warren, Obama and gays

One of the big stories today is that Rick Warren is going to be doing the invocation at the Presidential inauguration next month. Many gay rights groups and supporters are up in arms, and have every right to be. Warren's church is in California, the state that just passed Prop 8. You can be pretty certain that most of Rick's congregation supported the measure, and if he just said the word, thousands would have voted the other way. So I fully understand why people are upset and disappointed with Obama for choosing Warren, and think the timing is a bit like throwing salt on the wounds.

But, I also see many good things that might come of this. See, I think what Obama may be most effective at doing early in his term as president is to further expose the world for what it is, and then bring healing to it with his compassion. Let's take this example:

First, thanks to the announcement today, Rick Warren has all of a sudden had to become much more accountable for his stand on gay rights. I'm sure that many people who have admired Rick's work - from his AIDS and poverty work to his book "A Purpose-Driven Life" did not know his stance on gay rights. In fact, I know many people who are staunch gay rights supporters and love Rick's work. Exposing this is not a bad thing. As Ricky Ricardo used to say to Lucy, "you got some 'splainin to do". Specifically, now Warren and perhaps many of his ilk will have more pressure to consider the dilemma: how do you maintain a stance that we need greater compassion for and inclusiveness of people with HIV/AIDS, while at the same time, condemn the very people who are most likely to get HIV in the US. Do gay people have to get HIV in order for them to become welcome? Does AIDS make someone more worthy of compassion? If that's so, how are we to stop the spread of HIV?

Second, what this announcement may also expose is the limits of Rick's reach within the emergent evangelical movement. Most of the people I know from that movement (granted, not a tone, but certainly some that are well-connected) are disappointed with this selection and would have preferred Jim Wallis. This will certainly bring greater scrutiny to just how progressive Warren is.

But, what is the right response from Quakers? Should we align with Human Rights Campaign, denounce the decision, and be angry and disappointed? Perhaps, as humans, these are understandable. But I think that the Quakerly presence calls us to look inside - especially those of us who are gay and lesbian - to acknowledge our hurt, to own it, and to speak to it. But then, let's reach out to accept this gesture of reaching out. Clearly, there are many issues that Obama and Warren do not agree on. Obama, back in 2006, took a lot of heat for going to Saddleback church to speak about HIV and to get tested there with Sen. Brownback of Kansas. The thing is, Obama has not changed his stance on issues - from stem cell/reproductive rights, to gay rights. It's important to keep in mind that he has never said he is for gay marriage - in fact he has said the opposite, although if the courts decide otherwise (as they did in California) he would be ok with that. The ability to join together despite differences is important these days.

As for gay rights and gay marriage, the day is coming. I actually think this announcement today is another step in that direction. I'm sure there will be many on the far right who will be denouncing Warren for being a part of the inauguration as well. As RF Kennedy said, one out of five people will always be against whatever you do. Let's try to be a part of the other 80%, but at the same time, be clear about who we are at all times and hold our heads high. I have found that if we hold that within ourselves, we can find ourselves seated at the table with people like Warren, sitting as equals.

Bystanders...

This past weekend, I co-facilitated a Teachers of Peace workshop in southwest Ohio through Wilmington College. In Ohio, "anti-bullying" is a big thing in the schools, and so it was big in the teachers' minds this weekend. What emerged as a topic was not the bully and the victim, but the bystander. Martin Luther King said "the world begins to end when we are silent on the things that matter". Throughout the course of the discussion, what was interesting to me was to observe how easy it is for all of us to fall into the role of bystander: the teacher who sees in her gym class when students are overly aggressive to the "soft" (meaning gay?) students, and only gives a warning; the teacher who shops at Wal-Mart despite knowing their gender, race, and overall employee bullying tactics; and for me to see the four college students walk right by and look at the woman in DC who was getting ready to jump off a bridge down to a freeway (others of us intervened).

What leads to some of this? Paralysis is part of it; uncertainty of what we can do (such as in the case of the aggressive behavior in the gym); and self-preservation as in the Wal-Mart case (many people shop at Wal-Mart because of the affordability of the products).

At the other end of the spectrum, however, there is the issue of over-reacting in a way that causes more harm than good. To startle the person about to jump may cause him/her to lose balance; to overtly punish and shame the aggressive gym student may simply drive the behavior further underground; and to simply stop shopping at Wal-Mart will do little unless it is done in mass numbers.

So what can we do? Well, what we talked about in the workshop was to put things into a time continuum, and ask the question "where would we like things to be in 5 or 10 years? what can we do now to move things in that direction?" Ultimately we can "speak truth" and bear witness with patience and perseverance. The Wal-Mart shopper can write letters to the editor about unjust practices, or take offensive/mean-spirited t-shirts off the shelves and to the manager to complain about them; the gym teacher can start to track the behavior in the gym, and ask other teachers to do the same outside the gym class, and then take it to the administrator.

The challenge is that we live in a world of polarity - all or nothing. Often we respond to bullying behavior in all its culturally nuanced ways with a bullying response. That's the problem with "anti-" anything; it's about "combating" something which just brings more combat. The real work is to prevent the condition - something that takes a long time, but something we can move towards every day with patience and perseverance.

I am spending much of this summer and early fall going to a few Yearly Meetings and other Friends gatherings both as a participant and as a presenter/facilitator. At some of these gatherings, my topic is really a simple story of the experiences I have had with many evangelical Christians in the midwest, and some subsequent experiences in Kenya, where I have experienced the truth that bearing witness to each can bring about positive change is discussed. This is a challenge for me to talk about, because all I can really do is say that it has happened. The challenge arises when people want to understand how or why it happens, which is something I cannot describe. Perhaps we as a society have become so trained to believe that unless we can clearly state what the outcome will be of our efforts, we cannot engage in anything new. But I think there is more to it than that.

Skeptically, I think there are a number of factors at work: fear, desire for status-quo, ego, the need to be right (and others to be wrong) are among them, and these, I suspect, are not conscious and are a web of synergistic forces not easily delineated. In fact, even trying to delineate them then becomes a further act-delaying tactic.

Where does the "leap of faith" come into play? For years, I have told clients in my private counseling practice that one definition of insanity is to repeat the same behavior and expect different results. The hard part is that we so often don't recognize our own patterns; we need to be in relation with others in order to see our patterns (or, as I like to think, our narratives). What is most helpful is to engage in relations with people that we may consider not like-minded, and to do so in a way of simply witnessing and understanding, not argument and persuasion. I have found that we can then become more conscious of our patterns - our fears, our need to control, our beliefs, our mis-beliefs, etc.

This comes up now, as I find that one of the most frequent questions that arises at the various gatherings I have been attending is: "what can we (Meetings, groups) do to help support the glbt community", especially from among groups that already seem to be "open and affirming". I don't have an answer. I'm not the glbt community. The best I can say is be open to the possibilities, and build relationships out in the community. Perhaps become vocal when you see injustice, but be careful to not be too one-sided - it can fuel a righteousness that does not foster compassion and peace.

As a slight tangent, I recently attended a Congregational church in Silver Spring, MD. It's an open and affirming congregation, with a message of come as you are. One thing they have printed on their program also says "Becoming anti-racist". I love that they acknowledge the "becoming" of this. It's self-effacing; acknowledging that they are not their yet. Perhaps, this notion of "becoming" accepting, or "becoming" open-minded, is something we can all do, rather than state unequivocally that we are open-minded, or open and affirming.

Compassion for Enemies

The acronym SPICE was brought up in today’s Meeting for Worship, with each letter explained: S for Simplicity, P for Peace, I for Integrity, C for Community, and E for Equality. I wondered, why couldn’t the C stand for Compassion instead? And my thoughts swam backwards towards a subject I’ve been thinking about for a while: the Armenian Genocide and the role of Ottomon Turkey in the genocide (and modern-day Turkey in its denial).

Since some of you don’t know me personally and don’t read my livejournal, you may not know that my dad’s family is ethnically Armenian. They lived in Lebanon for a number of years before relocating to America in 1965. We are proud to be Armenian. I’m proud to be Armenian. But part of being Armenian is knowing about what’s been called the “first modern genocide”, that of the Armenians by Ottoman Turks in 1915, where over a million Armenians, including pregnant mothers, elderly men and women, infants, children… everyone, were killed by various horrific ways. But it didn’t start then, not really. The first massacres started in 1896, when hundreds of thousands of Armenians were killed.

Turkey has denied that the slaughter of Armenians in 1915 was a genocide, calling it “civil unrest”, etc. No one except Turks and those paid off by Turkey believes this. But because modern-day Turkey denies the Armenian Genocide, there’s a lot of anger between modern-day Armenians and modern-day Turks. It’s part of being Armenian today, knowing that you’ve lost relatives in the Genocide and knowing that there’s a possibility Turkey will never accept it as genocide, much less apologize.

I’m reading a book now that gives me hope. It’s called “A Shameful Act”, and it’s written by a Turk (who is now barred from Turkey, of course). Most books about the Armenian Genocide focus on the slaughter, the brutality, the sadness, and the official decisions that led to them. This book focuses on the history that made the Genocide possible, what was actually going on in the Ottoman Empire such that the conditions were there for a genocide to happen.

And reading about how scared the Ottoman Turkish government was of losing everything: country, identity, religion, I’ve come to understand that it was fear, not hate, that led to the genocide. And as I was sitting in Meeting for Worship this morning, a wave of compassion swept over me and I found myself thinking, “I forgive you. I forgive you for what you did to my ancestors and what you are still doing by denial. I forgive you.”

Even more than that, I found myself imagining how soul-destroying it must be to be so consumed by fear that one thinks genocide is the only way. Can any of you imagine what that must feel like? To be so afraid of something, of your identity being swallowed by Others, that killing those Others is the only solution?

I can’t imagine that kind of fear.

And then, an uncomfortable thought rose in me, spurned by a message in Meeting: what if we Armenians hadn’t been so Other? I’m not in any way blaming the Armenian Genocide on Armenians. The Ottomon Turks were responsible for how they reacted to their fear, not the Armenians. But I do wonder: if we hadn’t been so intent on maintaining our ethnic and cultural integrity, if we had intermingled more with the Muslims and the Turks, maybe we wouldn’t have been so Other.

There’s no way to know, of course. And intermingling would have required the cooperation of the Muslims and Turks of the time as well: it’s a two-way street, not a one-way.

But what about those of us today? Not just Armenians, but all of us in our cultural or ethnic groups, who worry about losing our integrity by intermingling with the dominant culture? What about Quakers, who worry about losing our cultural integrity if we stop numbering the days of the week instead of using their normal names? What about LGBTQ folks who stick together in one big group where anyone S is made to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome? What about ethnic groups in the US who refuse to learn English to any degree past “Thank you”, etc., and instead go on speaking their native language? (And I’m not talking here about people in ethnic groups who speak their native language when they’re gathered together at family functions, but those who speak their native language all the time.)

Let’s go back to Quakers. What about our Quakerese? What about our sacred peculiarities?

There’s value in cultural integrity. I love being with my Armenian family at parties, hearing four languages (French, Arabic, Armenian, English), the music, the food, the dancing! I’m not in any way saying those things should be less valued or diminished.

What I am saying is that we need to reach out to each other. We need to reach out to people who consider us Other and invite them in, not by forcing them to learn our language, but by showing them our own culture in ways they can understand: why these things are important to us, what we love about our language and our customs.

Most of all, we need compassion for those who consider us Other and whose lives are ruled by fear. We need a great deal of compassion for those who persecute us because they are afraid. And we need to recognize that we have a responsibility to those people, that it is just as much our job to make them unafraid of us as it is theirs. And, of course, we need to be aware of those Others we are afraid of, and reach out to them as well.

“Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you.”

He wasn’t kidding.

More FUM...

I participated in a Monthly Meeting dialog yesterday morning. This MM, like so many others that have a dual affiliation with FGC and FUM, are trying to discern whether to recommend withholding past dues to FUM. This is such a hard issue, as it seems to touch on so many things; past, present, future, faith, individuals, hurt, anger, love, fear, change, resistance to change, fellowship, hope, despair, just to name a few. Clearly, the FUM policy of not hiring people in glbt in relationships (or any non-traditional marriage) is one that increasingly is out of step with the way society is moving, but it is not yet out of the mainstream of society; sadly, but in fact it is perhaps more in step with society than not.

Some of my thoughts and afterthoughts:

• Many corporations, organizations, and institutions have changed and are changing their cultures and policies around glbt issues not as a result of people leaving, but as a result of people staying and being honest. At religious institutions and in faith communities throughout the country, glbt people and their families/friends have stated that their affinity to their faith is strong, and they are staying while working to change the policies. What is clearly happening is the culture is changing; the institutions are often the last to follow, but I believe will do so. Even at places like BYU, policies are changing (last March, the policy was revised so that gays and lesbians are not expelled for merely identifying as such, although pre-marital sex will get any student expelled).
• The era of identity politics seems to be coming to a close, as was mentioned by a colleague yesterday (the changing policy at BYU is a reflection of this).
• Sanctions in general do not work, other than to hurt the poor and disenfranchised. If we are to walk away from FUM, who will be there to provide witness for each other, and for the glbt youth that remain?
• We are meant to struggle, and I believe that struggles of this type nurture the soul. They can help with healing, but not fixing. The FUM policy is as much triggering old hurts in people as it is causing these hurts, and I think this is an important distinction.
• The FUM policy is not a change in policy, but perhaps more a reaction to a change in society. It takes time. When I was coming out, I was reminded to give others time to adjust.
• What we are talking about in many cases is belief systems, and I mean beyond institutional belief systems and include personal beliefs about self/other.

As we search for clarity on this issue, some questions emerged, to me at least:

• How do we tend to the immediate needs and hurts of our members while being aware that we also want to do what we can to end the hurt for future generations?
• We are a faith community. Can we take a leap of faith that in staying within the FUM community, we all might change for the better?
• How can this meeting, and all meetings struggling with this issue, find a way to be clear that it is accepting of all people, while being able to engage and even financially support those with whom it disagrees on some issues? I think my home Meeting in Downers Grove did a good job of this; I never once felt unwelcomed (well, once, really, when a woman felt I should not be washing dishes because I have HIV, but she soon left). The challenge is that some times, no matter what we do, people will never feel fully safe.

I'm sure there is more to come.

Quakers, FUM and the younger generation

I just attended the intersession meeting for Baltimore Yearly Meeting. There was a subcommittee meeting in the morning of FLGBTQC, and then the meeting for business in the afternoon. A good chunk of meeting time with both meetings was spent discussing a minute to release past funds to Friends United Meeting. The brief background is that, since 2004, BYM has withheld its membership dues from FUM because of the FUM personnel policy to not hire gays and lesbians.

What was striking about the meetings, for me, was that the overwhelming majority of people in attendance are not in agreement with the policy, but there are SHARP and very emotionally-charged differences about how to proceed. BYM has dual affiliation with FUM and FGC (as does my home meeting in Illinois, through our memberships with Western Yearly Meeting and Illinois Yearly Meeting, so I am familiar with the challenges, especially since my marrage to Ladd in 1995 created a rift). There are basically two questions on the table: should past dues be paid, and should future membership with FUM continue?

Here's my own take: we should stay with FUM, and do so not with a sense of "they will come around to see things our way", but because being in relationship with people of diverse opinions and experiences is a very enriching experience. Of course, there are risks. Clearly people have been hurt by theological messages that condemn homosexuality, and even subtle messages like this (as in the form of personnel policies) can be harmful, perpetuating both hurt and prejudice. But my own experience working with evangelicals in Illinois is that there can be a softening of messages, and a deeper understanding of and appreciation for our humanity in each other - our fears, hopes, wants, loves, etc. - has opened us up for profound change. I also believe, and have seen, that we are on a positive trajectory with regards to acceptance of and rights for the glbt community. There will be struggles and resistance, but we Quakers can play a role in easing the resistances and minimizing the harm when we can be loving. I think the "under 30" generation is in a very different place with regards to glbt issues than my generation (mid-40's) and older - the younger generation is more fluid in its understanding of these issues, and how to relate to the complexity of issues in our world in a way that many of my peers were not raised to be. Perhaps technology (the ability to connect globally) is a reason for this; also, the "boxes" of diversity my generation created have less application these days as issues of race and gender are both perceived and in fact are more fluid. More and more, people are of mixed race/religion/ethnicity, and even gender is so much more than the male/female of my youth.

All of this just to say that, perhaps, we need to include and even follow the lead of the younger generation on these issues. There is a gathering of Young Adult Friends at Earlham in May; maybe they can help shed some light on this. It is a challenge - it is important to understand the hurt of people, and try to bring some healing to it, while also acknowledging that the younger glb (the "t" still has more challenges) community is experiencing a different world than 20 years ago.

The fact that like-minded people (such as those in attendance at the BYM meeting yesterday) can get into heated discussions about how to proceed is indicative of how challenging this is. It is perhaps a reminder for us to be humble as we proceed, and not be so quick to judge and withdraw from FUM. It has taken unprogrammed meetings in FGC various lengths of time to find acceptance, and there is still work to go (i.e. with the transgendered community, let alone complete acceptance of the glb community). For those of us who have gone through the coming out process, many of us were counseled that we need to be patient with our families to accept something that we often had more time to come to grips with. Maybe we can demonstrate the same patience with our fellow Quakers?

Clearness

One of the reasons I haven’t posted much in the last month is that I requested a Clearness Committee partially about the purpose of my personal Quaker blog (http://thefriendlyfunnel.quakerism.net). The meeting was yesterday. I still don’t have clearness about whether that blog should be used for ministry only or as a means of spiritual journaling, where I vent my questions and share my thoughts.

But the heart of this Clearness Committee was about my concern about the state of the Meeting with regards to gay marriage. This concern has two parts: first, I am concerned that where the Meeting is makes us not as welcoming as we should be to GLBTQ people; second, I am concerned about the damage done to the Meeting during the stage of conflict that led up to our current position and that time alone won’t adequately heal these wounds. (For the record, our position is that a gay couple can have a commitment ceremony with individual members taking that commitment under their care.)

Without going into too much detail about the inner workings of my Monthly Meeting, I discovered during the Clearness Committee meeting yesterday that even just defining what the letters GLBTQ stand for can be seen as stirring up controversy. This discovery occurred after the statement was made that I would have been treated exactly the same by the Meeting if my life partner had been a woman instead of a man; and that the Meeting has no problem welcoming GLBTQ people specifically. I asked: “How can our Meeting be truly welcoming to people when we can’t even discuss what their letter stands for?”

If we are so uncomfortable discussing sexuality that even the most general information can be seen as controversial, how can this not affect how we treat people who challenge our perceptions of “normal” sexuality and gender?

This saddens me greatly, because I had hoped that my Meeting was past this. And it saddens me to know that there must be people who don’t or won’t feel as welcome as everyone else in my Meeting community.

I went into the Clearness Committee meeting with one question first in my mind: what am I being called to do? It had become clear that my concern was not something I should lay down: because I’ve tried that in the past and it just keeps coming back. By the end of the meeting, I didn’t feel I had the clearness I’d been seeking. But it came to me last night, as I was trying to process what happened during the Clearness Committee meeting, that I do know what I’m being called to do and to say that I don’t know is just an excuse to give me the option to choose not to do it.

I am, quite simply, being called to speak. I am being called to break the silence that smothers my Meeting with regards to non-heterosexual people, loves, sexuality, and even faith. I am being called to stand up and challenge heterosexism whenever and wherever I see it.

I am being called to honor silence when used in worship, but to reject silence when it is oppressive. I am called to respect the comfort levels of other people, but only when they do not deny a part of my being.

I would prefer to keep silent. Anyone who knows my history well knows that I would rather be the one solving a conflict than stirring one up. By speaking up about an issue that will make others uncomfortable, I risk being called or thought of as an attention seeker, a troublemaker, or a drama queen. I am none of those things.

I’ve been struggling with the testimony of Integrity for a while. The only way I can truly live my life with Integrity is by speaking up when being silent would be denying part of who I am. I have to admit, though, that I am terrified.

Iran, Gays, and execution

One of the gifts of Quakerism has been the gift of bearing witness and speaking truth to power. John Woolman is perhaps the figure who best personifies this, demonstrating that this bearing witness can make a difference. Do gay rights rise to the occassion for Quakers, as abolition, civil rights, and rights for women has in the past? Below is an e-mail I sent out to some Wheaton, IL peers, most of whom are active in Evangelical churches.

"I know we've all heard of persecution of gays, but apparently, Iran, as a government policy, takes it a step further:
http://news.aol.com/story/_a/gay-iranian-teen-loses-asylum-bid/20080311192709990001

I saw last night an article that Iran, on the other hand, has very loose guidelines for sex-change operations (see http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/newsnight/4115535.stm for more information). Apparently, many homosexuals are opting for sex-change over execution. Go figure."

What should Quakers do about this? What can we do?

Quakers as Teachers

This morning, I was sitting in on a teen First Day school class. I had not been to this group before, but I wanted to meet the woman running the group as we had previously communicated about me talking with the group about glbt issues. Because the scheduled speaker/activity was late, we actually spent much of today talking about these issues. There were 4 youth in the group (a senior, a junior - both from a local Quaker private school, a freshman from a suburban public school, and a sixth grader).

Rather than lecture, I did what I usually do, turn to questions for discussion. Here's what was identified: at the private high school, sexual orientation was absolutely no big deal, according to the students from that school. But, at the suburban school, the youth reported that gays were annoying - loud and irritating. I asked if the lesbians were the same, and he said no. We talked about why there might be more reactivity to male homosexuals (and, perhaps more reactivity from among within this group). We seemed to reach a point of understanding taht we live in a time where it is easier for females to slip out of feminine roles, than for males to slip out of masculine roles (such as express their affection for each other). For this same youth, I hasked if the "annoying gays" were the only gays in the school, and he said they are the only one's that are out. I asked how gays who come out are recieved, and he stated that they are generally directed towards the annoying gays, which led to a discussion about how we often tend to reflect the behaviors of our environment (I used regional accents as an example).

At this point, we abruptly shigted gears because the scheduled presenter showed up. He is involved with Amnesty International, and talked about the 3 issues on AI's docket for this week that are their letter-writing campaign. This is where something interesting - perhaps troubling - happened. The three issues are clearly of concern, but the coercion to sign the three letters was not good. The youngest member of the group stated he wasn't sure he wanted to sign the letters (his stated reason: wondering what would happen to him. The teacher said he'd become a good person if he signed the letters). She really did not leave "not signing" as an option, and the older kids pretty much jumped on the bandwagon. At first, I did not want to sign them either (I'm not much for that kind of activity, although I support others in doing it), but also felt as if that was not ok.

My concern here is the overly coercive/lack of dialog approach to activism. It seemed like what was happening was this: "here's the problem (amnesty issues); we all agree these are problems; now, do what I say to address this" For me, this didn't seem to be the best of Quakerism as a process of unerstanding and love; instead it seemed to be more of the bad stuff - a fundamentalist, don't ask questions, just get in line approach to social justice.

FLGBTQC, or Why Is This Acronym So Long?

[EDIT: The final draft can be read here.]

For my Monthly Meeting's Newsletter, our Testimonies & Concerns committee has suggested I write an article about FLGBTQC. Here is the rough draft. I am open to suggestions at this time; the article is not due until February 22nd. Please let me know if you have any thoughts or suggestions.

Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Concerns (FLGBTQC) is an organization composed of and run by Quakers who are concerned about the Testimonies (especially the Testimony of Equality) in relation to Friends with a variety of understandings and experiences of sexuality and gender. As I've told several Friends at Third Haven about this group, the response has tended to be laughter at the length of the name and the amount of initials in the abbreviation. Friends have implied that the name could be shortened; or the Q could be dropped, asking why the Q is necessary with all the LGBT in front of it.

I do not mean to imply that Friends have not been appropriately supportive of the group; but each and every one has commented on the length of the name. We Quakers love our abbreviations and have many of them that are commonly used in normal conversations at Meeting (AFSC, PYM, T&C, FGC, FCNL, etc.). FLGBTQC is longer than most; I admit to having trouble memorizing it at first. Yet since I've come to realize what the letters stand for, the acronym FLGBTQC comes easily to me now.

I can't imagine any of us not knowing what Lesbian and Gay means, but I will speak for a moment about why listing both Lesbian and Gay is a tribute to our Testimony of Equality. Gay was first used to refer to homosexual men, to the exclusion of women. In recent years, it was extended to refer to homosexual women as well; as homosexual women began to get more recognition both inside and outside of the "non-straight" community. By using both Lesbian and Gay, FLGBTQC is acknowledging that lesbian women and gay men have different identities. This is important, because not only is it true; but their experiences can differ vastly as well. Also, listing Lesbian first reverses the common acronym of GLBT, where Gay is listed first. This is a step towards equality of men and women, by not automatically assuming that the male-oriented acronym should go before the female-oriented one.

Bisexual might be a term most of you are familiar, but uncomfortable, with. Bisexuals can be attracted to either sex. To a bisexual, lesbians and gays, and straight men and women are considered monosexual; that is, they are attracted to only one sex instead of two. Bisexuals can be accused of being "fence sitters", or "confused", or "going through phases". I had a male friend in high school first come out to me as bisexual, and then later came to accept that he was gay. This does happen; but it does not mean that all people who identify as bisexual are confused or in denial. We are perhaps the only sexuality group whose sexuality is regularly denied and ridiculed by members of the "normative" sexuality (i.e., straight) and members of the GLBT community. There is a lot of confusion about bisexuals; I would like to offer myself as a resource to any member of Third Haven who would like to know more about bisexual people (I am one).

Transgender is one category that I have to admit to having little knowledge or experience of. Transgender can refer to people with both male and female sex organs, those who are in the process of changing their sex surgically (or are thinking about doing so, or have done so in the past), those who feel they have a different gender than sex (for example, a man stuck in a woman's body), those who bend the gender identity rules of our society (such as crossdressers), and so on. Transgender is not a sexual orientation, but a gender identity. Transgender people can have any sexual orientation, including straight.

Queer is for those people who don't identify with any of the previous identities, but do not consider themselves to fit into societal norms of sexual orientation or gender identity. For example, some people consider themselves to be pansexual instead of bisexual, acknowledging that they can be attracted to anyone regardless of sex or gender identity. Pansexuals feel that bisexual, with its implication of men and women only, excludes transgender individuals. Pansexuals often feel they are attracted to the person, regardless of the person's sex or gender. There are also those who consider their sexuality and/or their gender identity to be fluid instead of set into a specific category. The Queer is listed as part of FLGBTQC concerns to allow those people the chance to have a voice in the Religious Society of Friends.

If any would like more information about FLGBTQC, they have a website at http://www.quaker.org/flgbtqc/ . Included at their website is a letter to all Friends everywhere written last February:

"Once again, we are called to testify to the love we find moving among us. It is a testimony of radical inclusion. It is a cause of great pain to our corporate body to know that there are some Friends for whom our message is deeply disturbing; indeed, apparently, in contravention of their strongly held beliefs. It would gladden our hearts if Friends could soften their hearts to hear us out."

The rest of that epistle can be found here: http://www.quaker.org/flgbtqc/2007epistle.html .

I hope that I've cleared up the necessity of each of the initials in FLGBTQC; and that by doing so have made the acronym easier to remember.

Sexuality and Faith

At my last Worship & Ministry committee meeting, the following question was posed to me:

"How do you feel your sexuality relates to your faith?"

I was a bit taken aback by this, as I assumed I already knew the answer and found out when I tried to answer the question that, indeed, I am not clear on this yet. The answer I gave was something to the effect of since love is spoken about so much by Jesus as being so important, thus who I am capable of loving affects my faith. That answer isn't wrong, but it is incomplete.

The truth that I knew then and was too afraid to speak borders on severe egoism. I worried at the time, as I am worrying now, that sharing the true answer to that question would lead to charges that I was raising myself to God's level; further, that these charges wouldn't be altogether uncalled-for, either. But a truth that I keep to myself and am unwilling to have tested by people who might disagree with it or find it offensive isn't a truth at all, but just a shadow of the truth.

Here is the truth, egotistical as it may be.

The answer I gave is the beginning of the truth, but not the whole truth. As the cliché goes: "God is love". I find romantic love to be the closest we humans can get to experiencing the love God has for us. I don't know who first said that to be in love is to see someone as God sees them, but I find this to be true experientially. Thus, who I can love is connected to my faith in a sense of perception, that I can potentially see all these people the way God sees them.

And this is where the potential charge of egotism might be raised. I consider the fact that I am bisexual (or, more accurately, pansexual, if any of you are aware of the difference), to be a great gift from God. The fact that I have the potential to love someone regardless of their sex, seems to me a true blessing. I am capable of seeing so many more people as God loves them than most mono-sexual (heterosexual or homosexual) people are capable of. My potential to see someone as God does is, in a way, higher than most people whose attractions depend on the sex of the person.

I try to not let this make me think I am better than people who are only attracted to one sex, but the truth is that I find bisexuality to be a unique blessing. If God has a sexuality, I imagine that He or She would share the same sexuality I have. This is not to say that I don't think gender identity is important. I love my husband partially because he is a man and he wouldn't be who he is if he were a woman. But the potential to love a woman the same way I love my husband is there. The potential to love two people, one male and one female, is there. And I am infinitely grateful for this, even when it means I feel excluded from both straight and gay people.

I sometimes wonder if attraction to the opposite sex implies an attraction to what's different while an attraction to the same sex implies an attraction to what's similar. At least, this is how my sexuality often feels to me. And I consider this to be another aspect of my sexuality to be grateful for, that I can be attracted to the similarities and the differences. My sexuality is not only part of my identity, it affects the whole of my identity. My ability to relate to other's attractions taught me empathy for other's perspectives. And this has led me to open-mindedness, which is an enormous part of my faith, the ability to empathize with other people and their different faiths.

I hope this doesn't make me sound monophobic, if I can coin a term. (By this, I mean someone who thinks bisexual people are better than those who are only attracted to one sex.) This is just my attempt at answering the question I was asked honestly and fully.

The Gay Christian Network Gathering

I attended the Gay Christian Network Gathering yesterday. This event is taking place in Alexandria, VA from Jan. 3 to 6. I'm not up for the whole weekend, so I'm thankful to Justin for allowing me to participate for the afternoon and into the evening. It was impressive to see the numbers of people (350 is what I heard). Overwhelmingly, the participants were white males, and people came from all over the country.

As someone from the tradition of unprogrammed Quakers and silent worship, here are some of my observations and thoughts:

• The opening of the afternoon General Session consisted of singing, and not the kind of singing I've experienced at the more traditional (Episcopal, Lutheran or Catholic) services I've attended over the years, but singing in the Evangelical tradition - drums, keyboards, and video screens with words. Very uplifting, but as I so often feel with these kinds of things, a bit awkward. I don't know if it's because it's not a part of my nature to go with the flow (what's that all about, anyway?), or if I'm feeling that my emotions are being manipulated, or what.
• LOVE - there was lots of love in the air. But I could also sense a lot of pain - people who have been hurt by their church. There were many people there who had been through "ex-gay" programs, and are among the 70% of people for whom ex-day programs tends to do more harm than good, although they are clear that they do not blame these programs for their hurt, nor do they begrudge those for whom the programs work.
• There was nothing visible about HIV/AIDS. It's possible that I was the only one with HIV there (in fact, I mentioned it at the small group gathering I attended, and a man sitting next to me asked "what is HIV?". I said "You know, AIDS", and he still didn't know what I was talking about). It's quite possible that something was said in the morning session or opening session the night before, but I'm sensitive to is the silence a form of acceptance or denial?
• The speaker for the general session I attended was fantastic! Kelly Fryer is a former Lutheran Minister who was "de-frocked" after coming out as a Lesbian by the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America. She started an organization called A Renewal Enterprise ("Setting people free to change the world"), based in Chicago. (For more info, see http://www.arenewalenterprise.com/). The theme of her message was that we all draw lines, and right now in "the church", glbt issues is one of the most prominent lines being drawn. The fact is, however, that everyone draws lines somewhere (I sure can back that up: my parents are wonderful and caring secular humanists, but have very fundamentalist lines when it comes to certain political and religious groups). But, Kelly said, Christ died to set us free from hatred, self-hatred and doubt, and that ultimately, we don't get to draw the lines. I particularly like her calling that we all have a mission, and that when we accept this, it is a responsibility (as my good friend Lois so often says, with opportunity comes responsibility). A part of that mission is reconciliation, something our world so desparately needs, and that this comes to us and through us to the whole of creation (a concept very much in line with Quaker teachings of the inner Light and God in all things). Kelly stated "Jesus is Lord" as the first of five guiding principles. Just from my own upbringing and knowledge, I know that this statement is not universally agreed upon by Christians, let alone other faith traditions, but the more powerful part of her message (this is why, I think, it's important to keep listening) is that no one - not the church, not one's pastor, not one's family - speaks for God. God/Lord is the one who knows us better than we know ourselves, and loves us anyway.

Kelly's message, I think, was very empowering. She emphasized responsibility, and not being a victim. She stressed that we all need to be willing to be changed, not just wait for others to change - all messages that I completely resonate with, and like to think have been a part of my life's work. I know that I've changed immensely in my ability to see love in places I never thought I'd see it in the work I did in Wheaton, IL, and now see that when love rather than anger can be the driving emotion, good things can happen.

The question, for me, is "what about Quakerism?" The GCN gathering was clearly more Evangelical in nature. There are those of us who have not necessarily been hurt by our faith communities, but within Quaker traditions, there have been and continue to be a lot of angry words about homosexuality. Is there a way for Quakerism to be a part of the healing, bringing forth some of what is uniquely Quaker - the Peace Testimony, for example? And, at future GCN gatherings, can/should we try to have a greater presence to perhaps offer silent worship in the morning for those who need that as part of their faith practice?

I've been reading a book called "Head and Heart" by Garry Wills about Christianity in America. In early America, Quakers figured prominently in the abolition movement. In a future posting, I'll write about that, as I think we have some models from that history to perhaps guide our role in holding the dialog around homosexuality, faith, and God.