Very married*

What a surprising week for gay Americans. To be honest, I had been guessing the SCOTUS would choose to let the circuit court decisions stand rather than take the cases for states that had voted marriage discrimination laws. It made sense to me that the conservative majority would not want to be associated with a decision in favor of marriage equality, even if they knew they could not stop it. But what I think is most interesting is that by this narrow precise decision concerning a few cases, the court has allowed society to transform itself. In simpler terms, although the court’s decision was to let stand decisions overturning discrimination, the effect is the utter transformation of the majority of the United States of America into (mostly) a land of marriage equality (35 states and the District of Columbia by current reckoning).

Christians often catch the “God is love” theme from the Gospels without understanding that it is not about smarmy greeting card love, but rather about justice and equality. For what is God’s love if it is not a guarantee of life, equality, and justice? God’s glory is in the glimmer of justice known, experienced, and lived.

Finally I could say to my husband, “well, dear, now you’re really stuck with me.” For a gay American born in 1952 I cannot imagine a more glorious thing to say. (For the record, we were married on May 31, 2008, at City Hall, Toronto, Ontario, Canada; we have been together 36 years.)

Someone posted a reminder of National Coming Out Day on Facebook the other day. I always remember that the date of that event is October 11. Of course, for sixteen years of ordained ministry in Philadelphia it coincided with the lgbt street fair known as OutFest. We would sit at a table replete with symbols of the Episcopal Church, make sure a collared clergy person was always present along with some savvy normal-looking parishioners. Hundreds would stop by our table to ask questions about the church—everything from “do you know one with good music?” to “will you baptize our baby?” But I always thought our real impact was on the thousands more who walked by about twenty feet away, slowing down to read the signs, looking us in the eye with frightened longing. I always knew those were the people for whom our quiet witness was most effective. Just before I left Philadelphia I finally met someone who came to church and said casually “I used to walk past you at OutFest; it took me years to get up the nerve to come here.”

Witness, faith worked out in justice, is righteousness made into the transformative power of God’s love.

But the real reason I know October 11 is National Coming Out Day is that when I was a young lecturer at my first academic post the local lgbt group announced “wear jeans on coming out day” as a sign, a witness, of the presence of lgbt people throughout the whole community. I remember it because I was not yet “out,” not yet certain what “gay” really was, not yet certain whether that was a term that described me. And yet I wore jeans every day (ex-hippy that I was and still am). So I remember being terrified that whatever I did would be a lie in some way. I worried about it for weeks. And when the day came I called in sick (this was before computers and email!). The power of my emotional upheaval made a permanent impression on my psyche. And yes, by the following October, I had come out. The rest is history, as they say.

In Matthew’s gospel (22:1-14) Jesus tells the parable of the wedding feast. At the very end, when finally the rabble joyously constitute the guests at the feast, one man refuses to wear the wedding gown and is thrown out. “For many are called but few are chosen.” Of course the parallel of the jeans is not lost on me. Until I ponied up and put on my jeans I was relegated to the exile of outer darkness. Once I became the gay man God had made me to be, once I had put on the robe of righteousness by acknowledging and rejoicing in the gay man God had made me to be, I was once again admitted to the feast. Who’d ever have thunk such a critter could become a priest?

But you know what, today I am very married. That is the transformative power of God.

Proper 23 (Exodus 32:1-14; Psalm 106:1-6, 19-23; Philippians 4:1-9; Matthew 22:1-14)

©2014 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.