I have prided myself on being a bridge-builder across political and theological divides. With regards to gay rights, I am clear on a couple of things. For example, I know that being gay is not a choice. I know that when we can live in a world where we not fear the scorn of friends or the rejection of our family or faith because of our sexual orientation, we can be a healthier presence in the world. At the same time, I do not think that being gay absolves us from the responsibilities in our community to be good stewards, to bear witness to the richness and diversity of the glbt community, and that we can do what we can to support future generations regardless of whether we have children or not. One thing I cannot say with 100% authority is whether being gay or not is a sin. I truly do not believe it is, and no one can convince me that it is, but, ultimately, no one living on this earth is the ultimate authority of this.
The recent Rutgers case of invasion of privacy and suicide, and the public reaction to it, has had me thinking about all of these things, as much of our media and community have entered into some serious soul-searching. Some are looking for blame, and certainly the two students who engaged in the invasion of privacy should not be let off the hook. By the same token, perhaps the young man who took his life should share some of the responsibility for this as well. There are many of us who have felt intense pain and shame, but took into consideration the feelings of others in our decisions to plug on. Things that lead to suicide are rarely simple causal equations, but a myriad of complexities. I know this can sound incredibly cold, and I by no means discount the intensity of pain that can exist, but I also think it is important to not overly-victimize and glorify someone who takes his own life, and to state unequivocally that were it not for this act the outcome would have been different. There is often much more to the story. There can be too many copy-cats.
But beyond looking at this saga in a vacuum, or even in the lens of a university campus, I can't help but look at this through a macro-lens and think, well, what do you expect? We live in a world where gays and lesbians are routinely considered "less than equal". There are open community conversations about the worthiness and rights of gays and lesbians, and people in well-placed positions of power feel no qualms about denying gays and lesbians equality. Everything from Don't Ask/Don't Tell, to gay marriage, to child adoption create opportunities to reinforce the societal imprint that we are second-class citizens. Preachers and congregants in countless churches talk openly about the sinful life of gays. Quakers are no exception, as is evidenced by this letter. Lest we think that liberal Friends are absolved from this, even the most well-meaning of Friends can easily dehumanize glbt folks with the kindest of terms, but still talking about "them" as if we are not in the room. Even the recent study about the high-rates of HIV in the gay community and the reaction of the media are players in the dehumanization process, as written about here.
I can't help but think that righteous indignation and attacking of whole groups (such as the Mormon Church in this case) because of the heinous acts and words of some within those groups may actually hinder the ability to reach out with compassion, healing, support and love that is missing from all of this. I think we all could benefit from taking a deep breath and see, that, outside of this Rutgers incident, we all share a responsibility to see that situations like this do not get repeated. Our whole society works in concert to perpetuate the second-class citizenship of the glbt community. It's not any one church; it's our collective society, and many of us play into the process in subtle ways - even when we over-generalize our "glbt" friends. We just have to recognize that, as long as we do this, it gives license to those who choose to prey on the vulnerable for personal gain can do so against glbt folks. If we can recognize this, then we can start to hold each other accountable in our words and actions as we work towards that better place.
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1 comment:
Dear Brad,
I appreciate your loving and thoughtful posts. Bridge builders like you are my favorite kinds of people. And bridge builders rarely receive applause because they aren't the ones preaching to the converted and stirring up emotions, but are standing out in the middle somewhere, inviting people from both sides of the divide to talk and, happily, people do wander over and listen. Thank you for the very good and patient work you do.
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