You don’t always get burned*

Yesterday, in my blog browsing, I came across someone who promised to explain why some gay believers persist in their faith despite the “underlying contempt” that comes from what is perceived to be “the church.”  I was irritated, and at first I didn’t want to read it. (And I’m not going to give you the link now either!) Eventually I had a look and I was unimpressed. It not only did not answer any questions at all, it was the usual blather about how gay people are persecuted by “the church.” (Did you notice, I put that in quotation marks both times?)

This sort of thing irritates me because after 14 years of ordained ministry, much of it as a priest in and for the gay community, I just get weary of feeling like I’m talking to a brick wall. And that brick wall, this time, is the glbt community! “Come on folks!” I want to shout. “I have been telling your for years that you have a place at the table, that God created you gay and that’s a good thing, and that the church” (at least mine) “welcomes you with open and affirming and loving arms!”

I guess there are a couple of things going on. Of course, there really are so-called “churches”–like the Roman Catholic one–that oppress gay people. They do it to keep power, pretty much in the same way and for the same reasons they oppress women. And there are the right-wing fundamentalist sects, that do it for the same reasons. And there are similar sects of other religions as well. But then there also is the notorious “Stockholm syndrome,” in which hostages learn to rely on being captive. This is not the first time I have made this analogy in addressing the glbt community. I see it all the time. Somehow, because we grew up feeling oppressed (I don’t mean to belittle the true oppression we face, by the way), but somehow because we have felt that oppression for decades, suddenly when it is not there anymore we just can’t cope. Or, at least, we can’t cope right away. You know I remember when I was a little kid my dad caught his shirt on fire when he got too close to the stovetop. And even though I cook all the time, I still have a little bit of fear of cooktops. So when I’m in my apartment in Amsterdam that has an induction cooktop I’m afraid of it, even though I know it isn’t hot. I have to re-learn. And that’s what happens to glbt folks too. So I’m here to say “Friends, the Episcopal Church has gay and lesbian priests and bishops and laity. We are fully incorporated in the fabric of Christianity. This is true of other Christian groups as well.” Not convinced? Come to Church of the Holy Trinity and see for yourself.

I guess the other part of it is how well we glbt folks have learned to banish or shun ourselves. We need to put that habit aside, and learn to see ourselves in the light of Christ. And that, folks, is what resurrection is all about. Sure the story makes us wonder, about Jesus and the tomb more than 2000 years ago. But resurrection is not distant my friends, it is real and urgent and now happening to each of us, if only we can learn to see it. We have to put aside the old way of thinking, and let the light in.

In the scripture for Easter we have this funny sermon by Peter. Every year I look at this and want to laugh, because it says he converts thousands, but it just isn’t a very good sermon! Then again, I always remind myself, this is not the sermon itself, but the version of it that got passed around like a party story from ear to ear through thousands of people until it got written down. Be that as it may, the power is in the opening clause “I truly understand that God shows no partiality.” That means, you and me, folks, are God’s children too. Paul says we should set our minds on things that are above, where Christ is. He says the old life has died and us with it, and now we are resurrected with Christ. Our glory, like Christ’s, is hidden with Christ, in God. It looks odd to 21^st century eyes. It means, stop living in the past, and start living like a child of God, and you will see that you have resurrection life too.

Finally, the Johanine resurrection appearance reminds us that Jesus is utterly transformed by his resurrection. Not even his good friend Mary Magdalene recognizes him. Until she hears his voice, she cannot believe it is him. My friends, resurrection transfigures—it wipes away the old, it erases the oppression, it reveals the light. And all you have to do to experience it, is seek it. Turn, look, see. Alleliuia, Christ is risen for you.

Easter (Acts 10:34-43;Psalm 118: 1-2, 14-24; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-18)

©2011 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Right-eous-ness: Sin, Passion, Holy Week, Faith*

Well, there it all is, right there in the title.

But as usual, I digress. There is, as you know, more or less constant babble in “church-land” about this thing called “sin,” and GLBT people are no strangers to the word. We are told that the love we share is ‘sin,’ or even ‘abomination;’ or we are told that if only we would be chaste (that is, give up most of our reason for living) we would be acceptable as sinners overcoming their sin.

Nonsense.

There is only one “sin” and that is to be separate from God. To “sin” is to separate yourself from the intimate love of the one who created you and whose love for you is so vast that nothing can overwhelm it, not even. That is the message of what theologians call the “Christ-event,” which is shorthand for the life, ministry, trial, crucifixion, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ, the anointed one. He came to save us by teaching us, exactly, how to stop being people of sin, so we could more fully be the people of God.

Probably the most prevalent form of sin is playing God. We all do it and we all do it all the time. It seems like it must be part of the human condition, to judge. We judge and judge and judge. And yet we are not the judge. God is the judge; indeed, God is the only judge. “He talks too much.” “She would be okay if only she dressed better.” “I get so tired of putting up with people like that.” “Get out of my way.” “I get to go first.” Did you know that was judging? It is, because even to have the thought places you in your own head above the other. This was Jesus’ message, that none of us is above another; only God is above all. “Don’t ask/don’t tell.” “Homosexuals are intrinsically disordered.” “Marriage is between a man and a woman.” That is judging too. And it is equally hurtful. All of this judging seeks to place the ‘judge’ in a position of power, and to place the ‘judged’ in a position of inferiority. And that is painful, no matter the circumstances, when you are the one who is being judged.

What is so hard about “love your neighbor as yourself?” Well it requires real sacrifice. What if you really are angry or weary or beaten down? Well, those are not excuses. Loving each other means leaving behind those emotions (notice I did not say not to experience them, I said to leave them behind). It means at every turn to think about what you are doing. No amount of giving up chocolate for Lent can suffice for the powerful action of examining your own motives at every turn and remembering always to uphold the dignity of every human. Every human.

Paul wrote this: “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself.” This is the message of Holy Week, this is the meaning of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. The end of sin, once for all, if only we can learn to walk in love, walk in faith, walk in righteousness. Do you understand that word—righteousness? Try taking it apart. What is “right”? What is “being right” (righteous)? What is “faith (right-eous-ness)”? It is all about being right with God. As Jesus taught us.

Indeed, let the same mind be in you that was in Jesus. Humble yourself in the face of God’s love, empty yourself of foolish, selfish pride, rid your life of the sin of making yourself God. Remember God’s love for you. God made you in God’s own image. Especially if you are gay, remember, God made you in God’s own image. And God is always with you. Think about it–that’s what it means to have faith.

Palm Sunday (Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 31: 9-16; Philippians 2:5-11; Matthew 26:14- 27:66).

©2011 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Sinews*

This lesson from Ezekiel is the lesson about the valley of dry bones. We hear it each year at the Easter Vigil. Every time I hear this lesson, and I do mean every time, I just think of the thousands of bright young men full of life who were struck down by AIDS, and of their haunting wasted faces. The rattling of bones, the faces with no sinews, the promise that God would open their graves and breathe life into them again—well, we’ll see. But for those of us who are gay and have lived through these three decades of AIDS, we have been living in this Valley of Dry Bones. And if you think that isn’t a pretty picture you’re right. I do not apologize for the millions of my happy gay brothers who were struck by a virus that could have been easily controlled if evil forces had not been given power to prevent treatment.

But God will place us on God’s own soil…. That Gospel about Lazarus is the traditional Gospel for “National Coming Out Day”—and not just because at the end Jesus shouts “Lazarus, come out”—but rather, because it is about how the closet is a tomb, and life, the alternative, needs spiritual sustenance. Did you notice that Mary and Martha wept? But Jesus, who wept first, then invoked the Spirit. And the Spirit is life. It really is that simple.

I remember before I came out. I was dead inside, filled with fear where the life should have been; I had no possibility, no hope. Every man I met who was attractive was just a temptation, because, because I was gay, there was no hope I could have a relationship with him. But, once I was out, the world of relationship with men was wide open for me. And connections with men, with humans, with the universe, were wide open to me.  I remember in those early days, that whenever I met an attractive straight man I would try to scare him just a bit by carrying on about how gay I was. I actually still do that sometimes, because I don’t want him to think I’m just going to go sit in the closet about my sexuality. I once was told by a married straight man that it was okay (with him) for me to be a gay priest so long as I didn’t need to talk about it. My response was “every time you take your wife and son to dinner, you trumpet your virility and your sexuality.” Why shouldn’t I?

Well, some of that goes to heterosexism, which is still so rampant it makes me ill. But some of it has to do with what Paul calls setting the mind on the Spirit instead of the flesh. It is much too simplistic to accept the judgment of frauds who will tell you Paul means not to have sex; that is not the point at all. The point Paul is making is that we have to learn to know the difference between what really connects us to God, and that which just makes us bigger and stronger than everybody else.

Which brings us back to how to put sinews on those fleshy bones. Love God. Love yourself. Love one another. That’s about it.

5 Lent (Ezekiel 37:1-14; Psalm 130; Romans 8:6-11; John 11:1-45)

©The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

We are all born blind*

When I was about 11 or so, my dad had a terrible car accident. I remember it was the 4th of July and he had just shipped into Long Beach from Taiwan. We’d greeted him at the pier, and we’d had a great reunion evening, and then early that morning he’d taken the car in to the ship to get the stuff he’d bought in Taiwan, including some magnificent rosewood furniture. But, the main thing was, he’d brought Chinese fireworks for the 4th. So all day we waited for him but he never came; some time in the late afternoon Mother got “the” phone call—he’d been in a wreck and had been taken to San Diego where there was a better military hospital. (You know, right, that this is a fifty page story, so I’m doing my best here to cut to the chase.) Mother had to buy a new car [!] with the money in her purse … it was a horrid chevy station wagon. She paid for it off the used car lot, then she and I drove to San Diego to see Dad. She got a neighbor to babysit the kids (my much younger siblings). Dad was in traction with broken hips. But let’s just cut to the chase. Three months later, Dad is home, and they sit me down in the living room after the kids are asleep, and they explain to me how bad men will try to touch me. It took me years to figure out that really nice Navy nurse (a young red-headed guy) had put the moves on Dad, and Dad had ratted him out.

So, let’s see, I was 11. And it was 13 years later before I could let the eyes of my soul, “born blind” open up and realize it was okay to love another boy.  And this is the value of today’s Gospel for gay and lesbian and bisexual and transgendered people everywhere. Because we are all born “blind” my friends. And we have to let our eyes be opened if we are going to experience the beauty of life God has made for us. In the story you might notice that there is a lot of chatter about how Jesus made the blind boy see, but there isn’t any detail about the process. Okay, a little bit of mud. But, it isn’t the mud that opens the boys’ eyes anymore than it was mud that opened my own eyes when I finally came out. One day I just realized I was gay, and I just wanted to stop playing blind. You know what, in 1975 it was harder than you might think to come out. It took the blink of an eye to come out to myself; but it took months to find a sympathetic gay person to take me by the metaphorical hand and show me how to find the community into which I had been born. All jokes aside, his name was Billy, and I’ll never forget the joy and laughter with which he welcomed me into the reality of my own self, and drew me toward the community where I could and would be nurtured.

You know, I intended this story to follow on from the gospel about the man born blind. But now that I think about it, it follows too from the story about the selection of David, the least of  Samuel’s sons. Later we will learn that David was “the fairest of men” and that his love for Jonathan surpassed the love of God. So let’s see, sometimes these weird stories we tell about our own lives are pretty much like these stories where God chooses the right one, which is why the Bible is considered revelatory.

“For once you were in darkness but now in the Lord you are light.” You are light. You. Are light. Let your light shine friends, let it illumine the world.

Let me put it more bluntly—BE GAY! Or, REJOICE AND BE GAY! And let your light shine my friends.
*4 Lent (1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5: 8-14; John 9:1-41)

©2011 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.