Early on a Saturday morning in Feb. of 1997 the phone rang in my dorm room at Emory University. When I took the phone my mother asked in a panicked voice whether I had been at the gay bar that had just been bombed.
The day before Eric Rudolph had left a bomb inside the Otherside Lounge, a lesbian bar in Atlanta. That night it detonated, seriously injuring patrons. It was the third of four bombings he would engineer between 1996 and 1997. Over the course of his spree two people were killed, and more than 100 were injured.
I had always known there were those who deeply hated gay people like me. I had grown up in the South and had been called just about every hateful anti-gay name you could imagine. But now I knew there were people who would actually try to blow us up.
That night gays and lesbians across Atlanta poured into the bars in a show of defiance and mutual protection. Local LGBT groups spoke out. Some local politicians did too. But despite the fact that the bombings were motivated by religious hatred of LGBT people, most of the churches, even the gay-friendly ones, were silent. That silence weighed heavily in the coming weeks.
Fifteen years later, two days after this past Christmas, I woke up to an email signed by a Christian clergy member. I won't dignify the organization to which this person belongs by naming it here, but the Southern Poverty Law Center has called their organization a "hate group." They are strongly tied to Eric Rudolph.
The email told me, "You put your soul in danger of eternal damnation for welcoming unrepentant homosexuals into God's house. You blaspheme the Name of God. Homosexuality should be criminalized. Homosexuals commit crimes against God, against nature, against the Holy Bible and against the human race."
I found out later that many of my LGBT colleagues, and our allies, had also received the same email. I wish I could say it was my first piece of "hell mail," but it's not. There have been other emails and creepy anonymous text messages. There was the ex-gay leader who got within a foot of me and accused me of wearing a fake clergy collar to fool people. And there was the guy from Twitter who emailed me messages about hell from an account using my own name. The first few times these things happened I double-locked my doors.
The Otherside Bombing had taught me that there was reason to be afraid of religious extremism. I still believe that. But religious violence doesn't always come in the form of bombs set off in bars. It doesn't even come in the form of blatantly anti-gay emails. Sometimes it comes in the day-to-day interactions LGBT people have with people of faith. And while the intent of someone with a "love the sinner, hate the sin" theology isn't deadly, the reality is that the consequences can be. And now, with lawmakers in states like Tennessee trying to open loopholes in bullying laws in the name of "religious freedom," LGBT people -- and youth in particular -- will continue to navigate a world where spiritual violence is given free reign.
Fifteen years ago I tried to understand how one night I had gone to bed young, idealistic and full of hope; and then had awakened to a community wondering not if another bomb would be detonated, but where. I wish I had heard more voices of faith leaders in the coming weeks.
Today we wade through the news of suicides, bullying, reparative therapy and religious wars over marriage equality. And while there are certainly inclusive faith voices, we still are often too silent.
And our silence helps the anti-gay vitriol of some faith groups to seem that much louder, and that much more representative of all of Christianity. The sheer surprise I still hear from LGBT people when they find out they are welcome in a growing number of churches is telling. We are often beginning to do the work we need to do in our own faith communities, but we aren't doing the external work of reconciliation that would reach out to those who have been alienated by the church.
That saddens me the most, because I know some churches can be places of healing for LGBT people.
The author of the First Epistle of John wrote, "Perfect love casts out fear." I've learned to trust that. That night after the bombing, 15 years ago in that Atlanta bar, I knew that there were people who wanted me to be afraid. And I also knew that the love that held me in that place was bigger. Not even Eric Rudolph could destroy that.
When I read that email a few weeks ago, I remembered what had happened in Atlanta. But I also remembered what years worth of witness from inclusive Christians has taught me: God's love, unapologetically claimed for all of God's creation, can always triumph over fear.
We pastors tend to turn the theological into the person. And so five days before that email arrived in my inbox, I got down on one knee and asked the woman I love to marry me. She said, "Yes." That night I told her that she makes me feel like I can do all the things that terrify me.
The same is true of the love of God, and what it can make us do.
The people of faith in my life who dared to speak louder than the anti-gay voices around them made me believe that was true. They often spoke at their own peril, challenging the official policies of their denominations, but they spoke anyway. They couldn't be compelled by fear to do otherwise.
To me, that is the strongest indication I have that the love of God is real. That it is so good, and so filled with grace, that it makes us feel like we can do the things that terrify us. For denominations, churches and clergy standing on the edge, preparing themselves for the fearful moment where they take a stand for true inclusion of LGBT people, and for the very real backlash that stand will create, I commend that to you. Trust the love, and not the fear. The love may make you do the things that terrify you. But it will always be worth it.
Follow Rev. Emily C. Heath on Twitter: www.twitter.com/calledoutrev
Chaim Levin: Jewish Queer Youth Speak Out at Yale
Rabbi Jason Miller: Must Clergy Report Confidential Confessions to the Authorities?
Bruce Reyes-Chow: We Are Christianity: An Open Letter to Frustrated Christians in the United States
It does not.
"Now I do not approve of this life style "
First, there is no homosexual lifestyle, that phrase trivializes our lives, and is itself sin. Second, "do not approve" expresses judgement - so you are judging us.
And no, since you judge and condemn our lives, you do not really love us. You may want to love, you may want to appear to love us, you may think you are supposed to love us - but if you believe that our capacity for love and intimacy is evil, you do not really love us.
That indifference alone would be enough to convince me that homosexuality is not sin. It tells me that the people who teach that homosexuality is sin are seriously lacking the gifts of the Holy Spirit.
It tells me that this entire mess that they have made, is about their ego. It tells me that anti-gay theology is just is about having a way to increase their own perceived social standing, by bad-mouthing gays in lesbians in public.
And that truly is sin.
I know of no atheists, although I am sure they exist, who are homophobes. Ironically, that is not a feather in the atheist cap, you are not supposed to be a homophobe in the first place.
The attempt to glorify "true love that is Christianity' is misplaced. The question you should be wondering about is why Christianity, when it does breed, because of scriptures such hatred in the first place?
Compassion understands and this world is at a very low level of understanding. But then where would our souls go to school if the world were perfect????
As difficult as it is to attain knowledge of: lack of understanding = unawareness and unawareness is a necessity to create and develop every soul as a unique soul.
Think of it as eating from the tree of knowledge. There would be no need for such a “tree” if every soul had perfect understanding, but then there would be no souls, just the Isness of God. God does not duplicate or clone but creates uniqueness, i.e. infinite uniqueness. That is a wow and awe if there ever was one. :-)
Interestingly, a synonym for unawareness is ignorance and the Buddha realized that the origin of suffering is ignorance. Noteworthy view of ignorance don’t you think.
We are all a work in process to greater and greater understanding/awareness; yes even those that hate gays. I suspect much homophobia in those that hate gays and they use religion and the denial of projection to try and overcome that homophobia.
Seen from your (presumably straight) side of the gay civil rights debate, that might be how you picture it. But the reality is different. While the majority of Americans are indeed "tolerant", there is a large, highly vocal minority that still condemns us - loudly and in very direct (I dare say bullying) terms. And tolerance isn't acceptance - I want to be accepted for who I am, not 'tolerated' for my difference.
The discrimination against us is real, and sometimes quite violent. I have had my life threatened, been denied access to services, forced out of a church, and been called countless names, all in the last five years - DESPITE that majority of "tolerant" Americans. And I actually consider myself lucky; many of my friends' life experience has been much worse.
As for the "Muslim theocracies" comment - we have enough to do in our community to fight for our own civil rights, no matter how much we might sympathize with other oppressed groups.
Your silence damns all of those people being murdered because of their sexuality.
HOWEVER, I totally agree that people who use violence against homosexuals (or anyone for that matter) are definately in the wrong. Not only can it be deadly, but it causes fear, and if you're trying to get someone to see your point of view, fear is not the way. Kindness in expression of a point of view is the best way for people to actually LISTEN, instead of just HEAR you.
It does not.
"I do not agree with living that lifestyle."
There is no such thing as the gay lifestyle.
"I totally agree that people who use violence against homosexuals (or anyone for that matter) are definately in the wrong."
This violence is the direct fruit of 'homosexuality is sin'. And for people who do follow Jesus Christ, it is evidence that 'homosexuality is sin' does not come from God. In Matthew 7:15-23, Jesus gives a test for recognizing false teaching from true teaching "By their fruit".
As the essay above points out, the fruit of 'homosexuality is sin' is evil. Nothing good comes from it. Now, this week, in Uganda the Parliament is discussing and could vote on a law that would make homosexuality punishable by death - a law instigated by the anti-gay ministry of several clergy from the U.S., and supported by clergy and politicians in Uganda who accuse each of Sodomy for political and monetary gain.
The belief you "know" only bears evil fruit, Kelly. And Christ's own commands refute it and condemn it and expose it as a false teaching.
"Homosexuality is sin" is a construct - something created by taking verses out of context, mistranslating them, and making wildly irrational assumptions. It is not what the Bible says, but what some people claim the Bible says, and there is a huge difference.
Thank you and the posts author for your thoughts and comments.
As a heterosexual male, a Christian church member, and a follower of Jesus, (but not always of the sometimes hopelesly misguided Paul of Tarsus), I fully agree with all of your points.
I know you are trying, in your way, to be accepting. But in fact your words may be part of the problem. As Darr Sandberg pointed out in another response, what most people THINK the Bible says is NOT always what it actually says.
Let me give you an example from another context:
"I hate divorce,” says the LORD, the God of Israel, “because the man who divorces his wife covers his garment with violence." (Malachi 2:16)
Are we to use this verse to condemn the divorced as sinners? That's what it seems to imply, doesn't it? Yet nearly all Christian denominations accept divorce as a fact of life, and don't call it a sin and preach against it like they do with homosexuality.
The problem is not just direct violence against homosexuals, but also 'indirect violence' - the continuous & highly vocal religious condemnation that gay men and women constantly get from those around them. This can lead to suicide, depression, substance abuse, relationship problems, and a host of other unhealthy side effects. All as a result of the words coming from religious folks, even ones like you who have a good intent.
As a gay man who just turned 61 yesterday, I'm encouraged to hear younger voices will continue to stand for the equality of love --- a goal that I consciously joined late in my life, but one which I realize has always been a part of my journey since the day I was born.