Educate Me

I love my life. It sometimes seems that I’m a magnet for fascinating people- I know so many whose stories and attitudes have shaped my life for the better- some of you are reading this right now, and believe me, I’m deeply grateful. I would love to tell all of your stories, or at least give you the opportunity to tell your own to my other friends. With the limitations of time and space however, I’ll have to pick and choose- a little.

I’m going to do a little bit of that today.

I’d like you to meet my friend Ted Hayes. Ted is a retired chemist, Baptist minister and Doctor of Counseling- and an untiring inspiration to me. He always has thoughtful responses to issues that are close to his heart. His partner, recently deceased, was a Montanan, and that, along with our shared “professional Christian” careers, gave us a great place to relate to, from and with each other. He recently shared something with me that I simply had to share here- and with it, you will also learn to know and love my friend Ted.

~

As many of you know, I am an 80 year-old gay male living alone after the death of my beloved nearly two years ago.  In my twilight years, and especially in the 21st century, I really don’t find it necessary to defend who I am and what I have become.  I am just one happy guy still involved in the experiences of life and basking in the memories of the preceding 80 years.

Yet, even at this age and in this century, I still receive inquiries like the following and I want to put an answer out here so that any who wish may see my response.  Some of you may know also that I was a Southern Baptist minister for a number of years during the last century.  It is from my life in that capacity that I receive the most inquiries and to a degree I believe they are legitimate, especially when one comes along under the subject heading: “Educate me.”  I believe that is the primary way that those of the heterosexual “lifestyle” will gain greater understanding of who I am and why.  I want to give their sincere searches the attention they merit.

My response may at times sound flippant or condescending, but it is not intended to be that at all.  (If you, as a reader, are offended, please accept my apology up front.)  It may demonstrate my weariness at being asked the same question year after year when there is such an abundance of written material available to those who sincerely want answers.  But I will address the question from my perspective – the only one to which I can truly speak.

Late last night (2/20/2011) I received the following via Facebook.  It is from someone in my “ministerial” past.  I present it to you verbatim:

Hi, Ted. I’ve been wondering about something and finally am getting down to just asking you about it. I only want to get a better understanding; I’m not being judgmental. How do you reconcile your practice of homosexuality with what the scriptures say about it? My interpretation of the scriptures is that it is a sin. I know we are all sinners, but the sins that I realize I commit, I ask for forgiveness and don’t make a conscious effort to continue.  Just wondering.

Six sentences about which books, theses and dissertations have been written, have been directed at me on Facebook where the normal response is limited to some 400-500 characters, not words.  That is why I have chosen the format of a “note” that I can post on my wall.  I hope it will provide the inquirer, and others who may read this, with a “better understanding.”

I always have to smile when I read, “your practice of homosexuality.”  It is almost like there is the belief – though I am confident that is not the case — that at some point in my life I chose to get a degree in homosexuality so that I could take the state exam, get my license and then open up my office to practice.  It seems similar to someone who might at some point choose to pursue a career in medicine or law and who chooses classes that will provide a solid background for the rigors of either a medical school or a law school curriculum.

Such is not the case with my homosexuality.  I did not wake up one morning and decide that I would be homosexual and set about learning what I needed to know so that I could “practice” my sexuality.  When my family asked me what I was planning on doing with my life, I did not say, “Oh, I think I will be a homosexual even though it will take years of study.”  Being homosexual is what I am, not something I became or something I practice.  Too, I don’t need to “practice” my homosexuality any longer since I am really quite proficient and professional in my ability to be gay.

I cannot remember when I was not homosexual.  I may not have known the vocabulary that is available now but I did know that I was different before I entered grammar school.  I discovered what that difference was a year or two later.  There were no role models in Tennessee back in the 1930s so I lived a life of abject loneliness and sexual abstinence until I screwed up (Freudian choice of words?) the courage to come out when I was a few weeks shy of my 47th birthday and after I had left the ministry.

At that point I became a more serious student of scripture than I had ever been before.  I did not read the Bible and simply say, “That’s what that means.”  I began the kind of study that necessitated a lot of hard work since it required looking at it in the context of the time and customs when it was written, not just my reading it and interpreting it as I saw fit.  I read books by scholars who were on both sides of right/wrong controversy where my sexuality was concerned.  After years, I became convinced that what those scholars said — who were much more intelligent and versed in scripture than I – was true.  “If you want to find a book that condemns homosexuality as an orientation, you must look somewhere else other than in the Bible.”

If we look at scripture in that manner we will find that many of the instances where a verse or two look as if they were condemning homosexual orientation, they were really polemics against idolatry, sexual abuse, inhospitality and other such subjects.  We need to look at all of scripture in its historical context to better understand what the writing was saying then and determine what it means in the context of 21st century life.

When an inquirer states, “I am not being judgmental,” I begin looking for the judgment that undoubtedly will come, if not immediately, then certainly, soon.  That happened in this inquiry as well.  Notice the reference to “sin.”  The statements, “How do you reconcile your practice of homosexuality with what the scriptures say about it? My interpretation of the scriptures is that it is a sin. I know we are all sinners, but the sins that I realize I commit, I ask for forgiveness and don’t make a conscious effort to continue,” say, in essence, “I make changes and you haven’t” or “my repentance has been more effective than yours.”  Reminds me of the little ditty we used to chant after Sunday school as children back in the dark ages: “We don’t smoke and we don’t chew and we don’t go with girls who do.  Our class won the Bible.”

If we are speaking in theological terms, then, yes, I am a sinner.  But my sin is not my homosexuality.  The inquirer seems to define homosexuality as a behavior that is interpreted as sin.  I did not engage in “homosexual behavior” until I was 47 years old.  Does that mean that, even though I was homosexual all those years before, I did not become the sinner until I engaged in the behavior defined as sin?  Does it mean that since I am now alone again and “not practicing my homosexuality” I am no longer a sinner?  I think you can begin to see how ludicrous this becomes.

It also necessitates calling up that old standby that many anti-gay individuals and groups use: “Love the sinner; hate the sin.”  This is an effort to relieve the guilt felt for hatred.  If I (the sinner) am defined as the behavior that is defined as “sin,” then those who use the little statement above have not gained absolution of their guilt, they have rather compounded it.  If I am the sin and the sinner, then the statement really reads: “Hate the sinner; hate the sin” and there needs to be some other escape from the unchristian act of hatred.

I would encourage those who read scripture, and use it to pass judgment, to begin reading the scripture as a means of confronting their biases and not as a tool for confirming them.

Many of those who condemn on the basis of scripture apparently have not confronted their own sins during their “studies.”  Some of the most outspoken critics, of those of us who are gay, base it on scripture while they themselves, for example, have been through numerous marriages and are, therefore, guilty of adultery according to scripture.  And we know what the Bible says the penalty for adultery is, don’t we?

Stones anyone?

Wisdom

From my meditation time today, I realized the following truth:

“The root of great personal wisdom for me consists of two things:

Knowing when to hold on and knowing when to let go.”

~D Gregory Smith


“The Rainbow Belongs To Everybody”

So says Patricia Nell Warren in a beautiful post on Bilerico today.

My Homily, World AIDS Day, 2010

(This is the text of the homily I gave at the interfaith World AIDS Day service at Grace United Methodist Church in Billings last night. The scripture readings were from Isaiah 43 and psalm 22)

I remember when World AIDS Day was different than it is now.

I remember when we gathered in the darkness with candles and listened to words and music that were designed to comfort- but we all knew that comfort was a luxury we couldn’t afford. We were terrified.

We remembered the dead. We hugged the living, and the very sick. We held the hands of people who couldn’t tell their own families that they had lost or were going to lose the most important person in their life. We cried.

Our grief and fear were the engines that drove us back then. We were sick of burying our friends. We were tired of trying to defend the ways we struggled to love. We were working hard to be responsible- to make safe sex cool. We fought to get programs and found organizations that would take care of the often very simple needs that the government couldn’t- or wouldn’t. And the fear- some of you can remember can’t you? It was an entity that lived in our midst, a specter of doom that we couldn’t shake.

Because the work seemed to be so overwhelming and the fear, shame and hopelessness we fought was exhausting, we needed our sorrowful mothers, our indignant sisters and our caring brothers, fathers and friends to carry us.  And carry us they did- often at great risk to their personal livelihoods and professional credibility.

There are people still doing this work because they remember the pain, remember the fear, and remember the exhaustion echoed in the psalm we heard tonight:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

We remember. Especially tonight, we remember. We remember that we never want to see it again.

That is the purpose of memory. The pain of those memories has become our strength.

This is our Seder, I daresay our Holocaust.

Only, in this we are not bound together by race, by religion, by nation or even by faith. I think we are bound together by our naked humanity, our compassion, our memory and our hope.

Isaiah gives voice to the hope we share- and not in grand or exalted words, in very simple words actually.

“Do not fear. I have called you by name. You are precious in my sight.  I love you.”

Much like Isaiah, John Donne’s meditations on life, death and salvation in what have come to be known as the Holy Sonnets, show the majesty and humility in the ordinary. And like Isaiah, he works to remind us of a perspective that relies on the struggle of faith.

His familiar lines echo in our world today, where we can instantly see war and famine and suffering- even from opposite places on the globe- places that we have no context for, places that we can only imagine, spurred by the small glimpse on our television or computer screens. The question he asks more than 400 years ago, is still relevant today- Why do we fear?

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;

For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.

Thou’art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy’or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And death shall be no more, Death, thou shalt die.

Death has only the power we give it. Now life, that’s the true power here. And the life that lives not only for itself, but also for the greater good. Or, as Donne would say, for the greater God.

This is the movement from the psalmist to Isaiah- despair gives way to the reality of God’s infinite love, protection and mercy.

The psalmist gives voice to the doubts and grief brought on by suffering.

Isaiah gives voice to the promise of love, of life, of joy brought on by seeing life as precious, and seeing our own perception as limited.

In short, these two proclamations give us the breadth of human experience. It would be easy to reflect on the pain, the suffering, the agony and the fear. But I think that what we need right now is to celebrate the spirit of life, of courage, of hope.

I think that’s what brings us here tonight.

We are here because we all believe that coming together lessens our pain, strengthens our resolve and renews our courage. We know that HIV is still infecting Montanans- too many. They are often young, they are Native American, and women. Many are not being tested because of the fear, the stigma and still more fear.

We are here because we need the habit of coming together. We need to be each other’s memory. We need to remember that we are not alone. To remind one another when we forget. To comfort one another when we are sad, to celebrate with one another when there is joy. To gather strength in the face of difficulty. To counter ignorance and fear with the truth and with compassion.

To be here now. To show up.

Woody Allen said “80 percent of success is showing up.” I think he had something there.

As a therapist, sometimes the only thing I can do for someone is to show up. To be there with them. To quietly see them for who they are- a precious person who may be lost in the confusion of pain and fear. And who won’t always be lost. Especially if they have someone to join them on the journey out.

It’s not about solving a problem or fixing anything.

It’s about being present and being awake.

My being present involves something a little different than it used to. HIV lives with me. It is a guest in my house. It is the guest I never openly invited, but nonetheless it sits in my living room, it gets into my refrigerator, hogs the bathroom and often makes me just want to go to bed and stay there.

When I was first told I had this “intruder” in my house, I felt strange. Somewhere between elation and anger. I really can’t be more specific. I do remember thinking I had to slow down. I had to stop and sit down and wrap my head around this.

I had to decide what to do. And for me, this was serious. This was the decision that was going to shape the rest of my life. I had to decide how I was going to treat this uninvited guest.

For me there were only two options: I could either hate it, or I could love it.

If I hated it, I would live my life as an angry man, always disappointed, always suffering, always asking “why me?”, never seeing truth, beauty or kindness. I would be causing most of my own suffering.

If I loved it, I would be free.

It was that simple.

And, really, what was not to love? This is my reality. Truth is love. Hate is suffering. And HIV is my reality. The sooner I make friends with it, the sooner I find out what it has to teach me, the sooner my own salvation becomes obvious. This is simply a virus, doing its job. It is not a moral judgment, or a sign of anything but reality.

It is often simply a microscopic sign of the reality that human beings will do almost anything to be loved.

So, I love my little guest. I accept my reality. To be honest, I’m grateful for him. (I’m not being sexist, it’s just easier to think of the virus as him, somehow) Without this home invader, I think it would have taken me a lot longer to wake up. I would have had a longer, more painful road to deeper awareness. I wouldn’t have so easily seen the love that surrounds me every day. I wouldn’t have been able to put up with all of the harsh judgments that people with HIV have to put up with.

I guess I see my role as very simple: I’m here to teach some people how to love better. If they can overcome their prejudice and love me, the gay, HIV+ former priest- they can love anybody!

And I get to learn how to love better in return.

I think there are three great reasons to gather here tonight: To remember, to be present with one another, and to choose love instead of hate. That’s the lesson.

But you get to decide how to love- that’s the human prerogative in all this. You get to decide how to use your gifts, how to stand up to ignorance, how to offer your heart in the face of anger and hatred.

From the psalmist to Isaiah, to John Donne to you and me here in this place the lesson is being passed down.

“Death, be not proud” because, Death, you are not the greatest thing there is.

The God who loves me is always here, even if, like the psalmist, I have my doubts. God is the one saying “I have called you by name, you are mine. I love you and the world is not big enough to contain that love.”

If we listen closely, we can hear the words of God in our own hearts: “Always choose love, even when it’s hard. I promise you will never regret it.”

Tonight, let’s vow to pay attention to that voice.

Choose love.

Even when it’s hard.