LGBTQ+ Witnesses to Love

The Acts of the Apostles tell the story of the new church as it was being formed, after the resurrection of Christ, and before there was any serious structure. In fact, “church” here means the community of faith much more than it means any sort of organization. We see in these stories the “acts” of love performed by those who followed Jesus’ ministry and who therefore receive from the risen Christ the gift of the Holy Spirit—God’s love—to be communicated forward for the purpose of building up God’s kingdom.

So the structure that mattered most then as now was the structure of witness. The new apostle [Acts 1:15-17, 21-26] had to be a person who literally was a witness. Now, witness can mean many things—so not just that the new apostle had seen the events but also that he was present and visible to all of the followers and to the new converts as well because he too had received the Holy Spirit from Christ.

And here is where we see our own selves as God’s LGBTQ+ children, called to be witnesses to our own creation, to our own lives of love, to be visible as LGBTQ+ people in the community of the faithful, indeed, in creation at large.

Ask yourself then when have you been an apostolic witness? Maybe you were part of ACT-UP? Maybe you have been in a Pride parade? Maybe you have been there for LGBTQ+ people in need. Maybe you are the same-sex couple who always bring a terrific casserole to the church potluck? All of these are acts of witness.

We are witnesses to God’s love every time we stand up in the church and profess our faith as the proud LGBTQ+ people we are.

John’s first epistle [1 John 5:9-13] continues to proclaim the facts about God who is love. Love is God and God is love. If we know love then we know God. If we know God then we know love. If we know God and we embrace the love we know, eternal life is ours. Knowing God, loving God, embracing love, is witness of the purest form.

In John’s Gospel [John 17:6-19], Jesus’ prayer makes explicit the relationship between God and Christ and love and, yes, us. Jesus says “All mine are yours, and yours are mine … so that they may be one, as we are one.” When we are one with God we do not belong the “the world;” instead we belong to “love.” We are God’s children. We are the children of love.

We who are God’s LGBTQ children are sanctified; we are holy, in the love we share, because love is truth.

7 Easter Year B 2024 RCL (Acts 1:15-17, 21-26; Psalm 1; 1 John 5:9-13; John 17:6-19)

©2024 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

The Bridegroom’s garland*

Isaiah’s prophecy (61:10 ff.) is rich with metaphor; how else do humans explain the experience of the presence of God but to say what it felt like? I have known God on the prairie sweeping like angels’  wings over acres of corn, I have known God in ascending clouds of incense at the feet of God’s altars, I have known God a million times in the eyes of communicants. God is everywhere for sure, but sometimes metaphor is useful for describing theophany, which is this experience we have of God in human time and space. Christmas is a time of ongoing theophany.

Isaiah has this lovely metaphor this week “God has clothed me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland.” Of course, this metaphor is meaningful in a specific way at a specific time. Still I chuckled thinking about getting ready for our wedding.

Brad and I have been together for almost 36 years. We had a pretty exciting beginning, and then we had all of the usual potholes, and then we got it worked out. And like most gay men of our generation, and unlike most heterosexuals, we assumed we never could get married, so we didn’t even think about it. In our eighth year together we had a house blessing which we chose to think of as a blessing of our relationship. But it was in our 30^th year together that we decided to go to City Hall in Toronto and get married legally, just because we could.

What a shock. So I have been trying to think about how I felt getting dressed that morning. I don’t think that was the biggest thing on my mind. And, like being ordained, it turns out it is the aftermath that is the most important part of a sacrament like marriage. Still, I dressed as an Anglican priest, and I suppose the “garland” Isaiah refers to was my pectoral cross, which I drew on at the last moment as we were ready to go.

It was the cross of Christ crucified and risen, Christ who had chosen me, a gay man, as a priest in His church. Christ, who had chosen us, a gay couple, as an example of righteousness. The robe of righteousness was laid around our shoulders that day, in our aging bodies and in our mature love for each other.

The blessing of Christmastide is the coming of the light into a darkened world. No matter how many times we experience this, it remains a constant. Christ brings light. Christ is the light which is life. And we, gay people, are the candles in which Christ’s light enlightens the world.

I hope you had a merry Christmas. Don’t forget we still have nine days of Christmas left! Happy New Year to you too.

*First Sunday after Christmas (Isaiah 61:10-62:3; Psalm 147; Galatians 3:23-25;4:4-7; John 1:1-18)

©2013 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.