Timothy Kincaid is a “blogger friend” who I’ve had the privilege of engaging on a couple of different blogs: Warren Throckmorton and ExGayWatch. He regularly writes on Box Turtle Bulletin. Timothy is a gay Christian who I have found to be insightful and respectful. Timothy wrote this piece as a comment on another blog and I hope that it will be helpful to the readers of ‘Bridging the Gap’: p.s. Timothy is American - but I think us Canadians have a few take-aways here too eh?
Regarding the question as to how best reach gay persons for Christ, I’m not sure I have an answer for that question, but I do know some things to avoid if one has any real genuine desire to reach gay people for Christ:
1. Don’t demand the impossible.
Telling gay people that they shouldn’t be gay is probably going to be about as successful a witness tool as telling Asians they shouldn’t be Asian.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe in orientation. Or if you think the Bible talks about behavior not identity. Or if you can reference a whole list of folks who have “walked away from homosexuality”. Or even if you believe homosexuality is nothing but an addiction, or sin, or the result of some root cause, or a lack of paternal attention, or a demonic spirit.
If you want to reach gay people, it doesn’t matter what you believe at all.
Gay people generally believe that the direction of their attractions is innate and immutable. To ask them not to be gay is, to their way of thinking, preposterous.
This is not to say that you must give up your religious convictions. But rather that you should allow God to guide others to His will.
Remember, the reason for gay persons to come to Christ is not to become un-gay or even to avoid Hell. The reason for gay persons to come to Christ is to have a relationship with God.
In my opinion the smartest response to orientation is to introduce God’s love and grace and simply say that God wants his children to grow into the life He has for them. And then let God direct them.
And if God leads some gay people to some direction other than the plan YOU have for them, well you can take it up with Him.
2. Don’t coerce conversion.
Jews today still resent the efforts of Christians to convert them in the Spanish Inquisition at the point of a sword. Gays don’t feel much different about current efforts to instill repressive and discriminatory laws. They believe that Christians only want to be kind and loving to Christian people and that they will punish you if you are not.
Let’s talk some truth.
Behind every effort to treat gay people differently in this country is language about Sin and Abomination. Gay people observe Christianity to be a threat to their freedoms and sometimes to their very lives. (Yes, some “Christians” use death language).
You may “love the sinner, hate the sin”. You may think homosexuality is a dangerous lifestyle. You may have pity for the person trapped and not want to enable their destruction. You may think that homosexuality is a cancer that will destroy the culture and the nation. You may think that this is a sin that makes God nauseous and that God will rain judgment on the nation that doesn’t harshly punish such filth.
None of that matters.
At all.
Currently, gay people experience their interaction with Christianity as being full of hatred. And the fault lies entirely with the Church (yeah, it really does).
When you seek to harm the livelihood of someone, when you tax them more, when you take away their children, when you deny their ability to serve their country, when you “would never vote for” them, when you lie about their “lifestyle”, when you make entirely bogus claims about their mortality, when you support discrimination against them in business and housing, when you pass laws to remove their health insurance. When you just treat them with contempt.
These are all things that have been done in the name of Christianity. And they are all experienced as hateful.
If you really genuinely want to reach gays for Christ, you cannot do so in a manner that looks like hatred to the people you are trying to reach. You cannot be coercive.
If you care more about reaching gays for Christ than you do about the culture war, you will give up these efforts. Because you cannot reach gays while simultaneously harming them.
And if the culture is destroyed and the nation crumbles, take it up with God. After all, He didn’t call you to protect nations but to win souls.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Conversations - not an easy ride
A day at the office ….. and two conversations are sticking with me – and it’s only 11 am.
I received an email from a friend who had been involved in a lesbian relationship over the last three years. She’d gotten to know me through New Direction and I’d met several times with her and her partner. She emailed to say that her partner had gotten together with another woman ….. and she didn’t know where else to turn, but asked me to pray for her. My heart is broken for this young woman. Her story is one of a string of rejections and abandonment throughout her childhood. I can only imagine that her heart must be fractured in a million pieces. “When one weeps, the other tastes salt”. Today, I’m tasting salt.
Another conversation came via phone when I picked up to hear a man telling me about having lived a celibate life for the last 11 years. He’d returned to church after many years away. He shared some hurtful experiences about being kicked out of churches for being gay. I shared with him some of the distinctives of New Direction – and in particular that we are discipleship-focused, not change driven. That is, we are focused on an individual’s faith journey and walk with Jesus, rather than putting the emphasis on attempting to change one’s orientation. I explained that the theology of the ministry hasn’t changed over the years – we do believe God’s best intention for sexual intimacy is within heterosexual marriage. I shared about how some people had put all their energy into trying to change their orientation and when this didn’t happen became discouraged, disillusioned …. some lost their faith altogether. I talked about helping people live consistently with their beliefs and values and being clear about realistic expectations.
Then he said, “Well, I want to change my orientation.” And then he hung up.
And now I feel like crap.
“Lord, was I listening to you?”
“Is this guy going to tell his church that New Direction no longer offers hope – like others have been saying of us?”
“Lord, will you protect this man as he pursues change – keep him close to you – whether his attractions change or not.”
“Lord, help me – to simply walk in step with you and offer up this rush of fear I feel to you.”
I believe God can do anything. But I also know, that in His mysterious ways, He does not always do everything we want or ask of him – at least not in the way we expect.
Our hope, must rest on the person of Jesus Christ. He, alone, is our sufficiency regardless of the healing we do or don’t experience.
I received an email from a friend who had been involved in a lesbian relationship over the last three years. She’d gotten to know me through New Direction and I’d met several times with her and her partner. She emailed to say that her partner had gotten together with another woman ….. and she didn’t know where else to turn, but asked me to pray for her. My heart is broken for this young woman. Her story is one of a string of rejections and abandonment throughout her childhood. I can only imagine that her heart must be fractured in a million pieces. “When one weeps, the other tastes salt”. Today, I’m tasting salt.
Another conversation came via phone when I picked up to hear a man telling me about having lived a celibate life for the last 11 years. He’d returned to church after many years away. He shared some hurtful experiences about being kicked out of churches for being gay. I shared with him some of the distinctives of New Direction – and in particular that we are discipleship-focused, not change driven. That is, we are focused on an individual’s faith journey and walk with Jesus, rather than putting the emphasis on attempting to change one’s orientation. I explained that the theology of the ministry hasn’t changed over the years – we do believe God’s best intention for sexual intimacy is within heterosexual marriage. I shared about how some people had put all their energy into trying to change their orientation and when this didn’t happen became discouraged, disillusioned …. some lost their faith altogether. I talked about helping people live consistently with their beliefs and values and being clear about realistic expectations.
Then he said, “Well, I want to change my orientation.” And then he hung up.
And now I feel like crap.
“Lord, was I listening to you?”
“Is this guy going to tell his church that New Direction no longer offers hope – like others have been saying of us?”
“Lord, will you protect this man as he pursues change – keep him close to you – whether his attractions change or not.”
“Lord, help me – to simply walk in step with you and offer up this rush of fear I feel to you.”
I believe God can do anything. But I also know, that in His mysterious ways, He does not always do everything we want or ask of him – at least not in the way we expect.
Our hope, must rest on the person of Jesus Christ. He, alone, is our sufficiency regardless of the healing we do or don’t experience.
Monday, July 14, 2008
agreeing with someone I disagree with
I am deeply saddened by the turmoil of my brothers and sisters in the Anglican Church worldwide. And I am grieved that to the public, homosexuality seems to be the ‘hot button’.
I read an article today about gay bishop Gene Robinson. This past Sunday, Gene delivered a sermon in St. Mary’s in London. It appears that he didn’t even get through his first sentence before a heckler stood up to call him a heretic. Shouting, “Repent heretic”, the man was led out of the church while the congregation sang a hymn. The article said, “A shaken Robinson called on worshippers to ‘pray for that man’ before asking aloud if a church offering ‘the bread of anxiety rather than the bread of life’ is more likely to draw souls through its doors.”
I agree.
Gene Robinson and I have a different position on sexual ethics. He and I look at Scripture differently. On some important realities, Gene and I disagree.
But when Gene says, “I think God wants us to be bold…. to take risks. I don’t think God wants us to be afraid.” I have to say, I agree.
And when Gene says that the question of homosexuality has been ‘elevated way above its place’ in a world shot through with hunger and suffering, I have to say, I agree.
And when the Toronto Star, in their analysis says, “But fear and hostility are certain to figure prominently as the gulf between Anglican conservatives and liberals widens at Lambeth”, I have to say that I grieve.
This is what the world sees. Fear. Hostility. Anger.
Robinson has received ‘credible death threats’. This ought not to be.
Whatever happened to, “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love”?
I read an article today about gay bishop Gene Robinson. This past Sunday, Gene delivered a sermon in St. Mary’s in London. It appears that he didn’t even get through his first sentence before a heckler stood up to call him a heretic. Shouting, “Repent heretic”, the man was led out of the church while the congregation sang a hymn. The article said, “A shaken Robinson called on worshippers to ‘pray for that man’ before asking aloud if a church offering ‘the bread of anxiety rather than the bread of life’ is more likely to draw souls through its doors.”
I agree.
Gene Robinson and I have a different position on sexual ethics. He and I look at Scripture differently. On some important realities, Gene and I disagree.
But when Gene says, “I think God wants us to be bold…. to take risks. I don’t think God wants us to be afraid.” I have to say, I agree.
And when Gene says that the question of homosexuality has been ‘elevated way above its place’ in a world shot through with hunger and suffering, I have to say, I agree.
And when the Toronto Star, in their analysis says, “But fear and hostility are certain to figure prominently as the gulf between Anglican conservatives and liberals widens at Lambeth”, I have to say that I grieve.
This is what the world sees. Fear. Hostility. Anger.
Robinson has received ‘credible death threats’. This ought not to be.
Whatever happened to, “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love”?
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Vulnerability and Hiddenness
I’ve been pondering the power of vulnerability. Seems like an oxymoron doesn’t it? In fact, having shared some honest vulnerability with others recently, it seems quite apparent that some, if not many, view vulnerability as weakness and something to be avoided. Someone told me they were embarrassed by my vulnerability. Another said I had weak boundaries and that I was being manipulative by sharing so personally. Others just quoted bible verses to quiet the deep, personal questions I was wrestling with. Such hurtful reactions make you want to just shut up and not risk opening yourself up again. But….. as I ponder and reflect on the value of vulnerability, I feel compelled to continue to risk.
Being real simply seems non-negotiable to me. Not that I propose people spilling their guts about every little thing at all times. Don’t misunderstand me – I have Cloud and Townsend’s copy of “Boundaries” close by on my bookshelf. But like I John 1:7 reminds us, “If we are living in the light, as God is in the light, then we have fellowship with each other, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, cleanses us from all sin.” I want to live in the light – I don’t want to pretend I’m better than I am, I don’t want to worry that if I slip up and let someone see what I’m really like I’ll be rejected, and I don’t want to have to “fake it till I make it”. My mentors remind me that not everyone can handle the “what you see is what you get” approach. That’s true. We all need discernment about what to share and when. But I think there is something life-giving and good about wanting to be known – warts and all – and experience being accepted.
Baxter Kruger says, “Genuine acceptance removes fear and hiding, and creates freedom to know and to be known. In this freedom arises a fellowship and sharing so honest and open and real that the persons involved dwell in one another. There is union without loss of individual identity. When one weeps, the other tastes salt. It is only in the Triune relationship of Father, Son and Spirit that personal relationship of this order exists, and the early Church used the word ‘perichoresis’ to describe it. The good news is that Jesus Christ has drawn us within this relationship, and its fullness and life are to be played out in each of us and in all creation.”
To know and be known is so core to being truly human, truly alive. But to be known means that we have to risk revealing who we really are.
In my work with New Direction I encounter a great deal of fear and anxiety. I encounter a lot of people doing a lot of hiding. In so many different ways I see the damaging, dehumanizing effects of this fear and hiddenness. And something in this idealistic heart of mine says, “That’s not the way it is supposed to be!” IF we really knew how to love ~ we wouldn’t need to hide from each other. IF we really knew how to be accepting ~ we wouldn’t need to invest so much energy into protecting ourselves. Ever since Adam and Eve first sinned, we humans have hidden ourselves. But IF we were really caught up in the relational reality of Father, Son and Holy Spirit we would encounter such a safe, radical place of love and acceptance that we, too, could open our hearts to love and accept with the largeness and generosity we see in God.
When I hide my true self, my vulnerability ~ I have to wonder if it is because I have not fully experienced the love of God. And when I risk exposing my true self, my vulnerability ~ I have to hope that it flows out from that place of being Loved by the Father (and not some manipulative place of neediness). The test of course, is how I react when the offering of the gift of my vulnerability is met with rejection, shame and judgment. Boy that sucks. But it is a pretty good test of how grounded, secure and known I am in the love of God. Do I want to snap back with a judgment? Do I want to “knock them down a peg or two”? (When faced with a hurt or stressor my typical response is ‘fight’ rather than ‘flight’)
When I consider Jesus I see Someone who chose to embody vulnerability. The Incarnation has vulnerability written all over it. And in this place of vulnerability he encountered rejection, shame and judgment ….. and he resisted both ‘flight’ and ‘fight’. He stayed present ~ completely secure in the love and acceptance and indwelling of the Father and Spirit. That is so where I want to be (though I so quickly fall short).
“And when you come before God… here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place where you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God and you will begin to sense his grace.” Matthew 6: 5-6 the Message
I just re-read this article about men on the ‘down-low’ in Black and Latino communities. I read Christine’s account of her Pride participation. I sat with a ministry colleague who is a married wife and mother seeking to disentangle herself from an affair with a woman. And these themes of vulnerability and hiddenness grip me.
There is a common sentiment in the Christian community that goes something like this, “There aren’t any homosexual people, there are only heterosexual people with a homosexual problem.” While I see multiple challenges with this statement, to me one of the significant ones is the hiddenness it perpetuates. “Don’t own the reality that you experience same-gender attraction – because it is just a ‘problem’ and you just need to deal with it.” “Don’t reveal that vulnerable place where it just feels like this is part of who you are – because that just perpetuates this ‘problem’ and will keep you from emerging into your true heterosexuality.”
I was recently invited to review some policy statements that a denomination is working on. The policy on homosexual conduct carried an undertone of resentment, hostility and fear towards gay people. It seemed to be far more concerned with who was “out” rather than who could be invited “in”. And I groaned under the weight of how to even begin to address such systemic attitudes. “Couldn’t they see that any same-gender attracted person reading these policy statements, even those agreeing with the basic theological beliefs about sexual ethics, would feel compelled to stay hidden, to never share the vulnerable and intimate realities they experience?”
I want to be a safe person – who offers and receives the gift of vulnerability. I want to be a safe person – because through me, I want my gay friends to encounter a safe place in the embrace of God. The God who chooses to reveal himself through vulnerability. The God who offers the kind of genuine acceptance that dispels fear and hiddenness. The God who allows us the grace and strength to stay present – open to his love – even in the face of rejection, shame and judgment from others.
Being real simply seems non-negotiable to me. Not that I propose people spilling their guts about every little thing at all times. Don’t misunderstand me – I have Cloud and Townsend’s copy of “Boundaries” close by on my bookshelf. But like I John 1:7 reminds us, “If we are living in the light, as God is in the light, then we have fellowship with each other, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, cleanses us from all sin.” I want to live in the light – I don’t want to pretend I’m better than I am, I don’t want to worry that if I slip up and let someone see what I’m really like I’ll be rejected, and I don’t want to have to “fake it till I make it”. My mentors remind me that not everyone can handle the “what you see is what you get” approach. That’s true. We all need discernment about what to share and when. But I think there is something life-giving and good about wanting to be known – warts and all – and experience being accepted.
Baxter Kruger says, “Genuine acceptance removes fear and hiding, and creates freedom to know and to be known. In this freedom arises a fellowship and sharing so honest and open and real that the persons involved dwell in one another. There is union without loss of individual identity. When one weeps, the other tastes salt. It is only in the Triune relationship of Father, Son and Spirit that personal relationship of this order exists, and the early Church used the word ‘perichoresis’ to describe it. The good news is that Jesus Christ has drawn us within this relationship, and its fullness and life are to be played out in each of us and in all creation.”
To know and be known is so core to being truly human, truly alive. But to be known means that we have to risk revealing who we really are.
In my work with New Direction I encounter a great deal of fear and anxiety. I encounter a lot of people doing a lot of hiding. In so many different ways I see the damaging, dehumanizing effects of this fear and hiddenness. And something in this idealistic heart of mine says, “That’s not the way it is supposed to be!” IF we really knew how to love ~ we wouldn’t need to hide from each other. IF we really knew how to be accepting ~ we wouldn’t need to invest so much energy into protecting ourselves. Ever since Adam and Eve first sinned, we humans have hidden ourselves. But IF we were really caught up in the relational reality of Father, Son and Holy Spirit we would encounter such a safe, radical place of love and acceptance that we, too, could open our hearts to love and accept with the largeness and generosity we see in God.
When I hide my true self, my vulnerability ~ I have to wonder if it is because I have not fully experienced the love of God. And when I risk exposing my true self, my vulnerability ~ I have to hope that it flows out from that place of being Loved by the Father (and not some manipulative place of neediness). The test of course, is how I react when the offering of the gift of my vulnerability is met with rejection, shame and judgment. Boy that sucks. But it is a pretty good test of how grounded, secure and known I am in the love of God. Do I want to snap back with a judgment? Do I want to “knock them down a peg or two”? (When faced with a hurt or stressor my typical response is ‘fight’ rather than ‘flight’)
When I consider Jesus I see Someone who chose to embody vulnerability. The Incarnation has vulnerability written all over it. And in this place of vulnerability he encountered rejection, shame and judgment ….. and he resisted both ‘flight’ and ‘fight’. He stayed present ~ completely secure in the love and acceptance and indwelling of the Father and Spirit. That is so where I want to be (though I so quickly fall short).
“And when you come before God… here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place where you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God and you will begin to sense his grace.” Matthew 6: 5-6 the Message
I just re-read this article about men on the ‘down-low’ in Black and Latino communities. I read Christine’s account of her Pride participation. I sat with a ministry colleague who is a married wife and mother seeking to disentangle herself from an affair with a woman. And these themes of vulnerability and hiddenness grip me.
There is a common sentiment in the Christian community that goes something like this, “There aren’t any homosexual people, there are only heterosexual people with a homosexual problem.” While I see multiple challenges with this statement, to me one of the significant ones is the hiddenness it perpetuates. “Don’t own the reality that you experience same-gender attraction – because it is just a ‘problem’ and you just need to deal with it.” “Don’t reveal that vulnerable place where it just feels like this is part of who you are – because that just perpetuates this ‘problem’ and will keep you from emerging into your true heterosexuality.”
I was recently invited to review some policy statements that a denomination is working on. The policy on homosexual conduct carried an undertone of resentment, hostility and fear towards gay people. It seemed to be far more concerned with who was “out” rather than who could be invited “in”. And I groaned under the weight of how to even begin to address such systemic attitudes. “Couldn’t they see that any same-gender attracted person reading these policy statements, even those agreeing with the basic theological beliefs about sexual ethics, would feel compelled to stay hidden, to never share the vulnerable and intimate realities they experience?”
I want to be a safe person – who offers and receives the gift of vulnerability. I want to be a safe person – because through me, I want my gay friends to encounter a safe place in the embrace of God. The God who chooses to reveal himself through vulnerability. The God who offers the kind of genuine acceptance that dispels fear and hiddenness. The God who allows us the grace and strength to stay present – open to his love – even in the face of rejection, shame and judgment from others.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Volunteering at Pride
For a few years, I’ve been pondering and dreaming about some way to demonstrate the love and care I feel for gay people in connection to Pride events. I’ve winced, as I know many Christians have, at the images of religious people holding placards in protest along the side of parade routes. The most ridiculous photo I saw was of the back of a man’s t-shirt that read, “Real Christians Don’t Sin”….. What????? Every real Christian I know sins – all the time. That’s why we need a Saviour. And what about I John 1:8, “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”? Anyway….needless to say, I have long desired in some small way to try to undo what some, who name the name of Jesus, have done in the past.
This year, things finally seemed to come together in a small, under the radar, anonymous sort of service initiative. In partnership with the Meeting House, one of the churches we connect with, we gathered a small group of people willing to serve as volunteers – and offered ourselves to the Pride Toronto committee. The initial idea was that we would go down and pick up garbage after the parade. Simply show up, be the presence of Jesus, and serve our city. But God seemed to have a different idea. When I initially spoke months ago to the fabulously organized Lisa Duke, Volunteer Coordinator, she thought it would be great if we could help them ‘de-register’ the vendors. Basically, last year a lot of vendors all took off at the same time and left a lot of garbage behind – which cost Pride a lot of money because they had to pay the city more to clean it up. So Lisa thought it would be great if we could go around to the vendors on the last day of events, introduce ourselves, offer our service in helping them de-register and make sure their site was squeaky clean. It seemed, we were being given the opportunity to make connections and be in conversation, as well as helping to clean up. Cool.
So the big day finally arrived. The parade was finishing up and we got our volunteer t-shirts, our photo i.d., our meal and snack tickets, got pointed to the tent where there was a constant supply of pizza and water, and told to have fun. Robert, the food vendor coordinator, was so great and so glad to have us. Allan,one of TMH’s pastors and key coordinator for our involvement, kept saying how as pacifist BIC pastors they would have to “radically love” the vendors into cleaning up their sites – the big love-enforcers :).
We had a fair bit of time to wander around before we had to really get down to the business we were there for ….. and though I’d seen many photos of Pride and watched it on T.V in the past, I had never been ‘in the flesh’ at Pride before. To be honest, I’m a suburb soccer mom and don’t get downtown too much. So I did feel like a fish out of water. Not because I was shocked or offended …. but it was just a very different context than I normally find myself in. That’s good. It was colourful, diverse, loud, and lively.
When Robert began to give us our assignments, a few of us chose to work to help out the vendors who were not selling food. To be honest, I was still a bit fatigued and jetlagged from my recent trip out west, and it seemed this volunteer role included a bit more sitting. As I began to make my way to the various booths to introduce myself and begin giving reminders about ‘tear-down’ and cleanliness, I found myself engaging some very interesting people. There were the service group booths: AIDS education, anti-discrimination groups, anti-poverty groups, District School Board representatives, Youth Helpline, and even a Barack Obama booth. And then there were the vendors selling stuff: sunglasses, t-shirts, hats, leather goods, and sex toys including glass penises. Hmm. That was a little awkward I must say.
I had shared in my church that morning that I was heading down to Pride events to volunteer, serve and simply be the presence of Jesus by being there. The elder who prayed for me said, “That is going to be really hard. I could never do that.” I hadn’t really had a lot of time to think about it – or contemplate that it would be hard. I engage gay people all the time so I expected it to be a pretty normal, every-day experience. So I said to the elder, “That’s why God is sending me – because He’s called me and I want to do it.” But I want to do it so that I can share with other Christ-followers how they, too, can be present through love and service – to begin to undo the enmity and divide. As I shared with the other volunteers, our being there was more about us being changed than trying to change anyone else. Our hearts need to continue to be open to what God is saying to us as we show up and be present.
Having said that, however, I was a bit surprised by the ways it was hard to be present at Pride. I found it hard to listen to God – I think just because of my own sense of distraction by so many different sights and images to take in. I began to feel in my body a heaviness, fatigue and quite quickly developed a tremendous headache. I’ve experienced these sorts of things before – and not to get all oogedy-boogedy on anyone, but I know a sense of spiritual heaviness when I feel it. So while I did find it hard to hear what God might be saying, or to really pray much at all, I do feel that in my physical body I was both carrying the presence of God and encountering the presence of darkness. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to suggest that every person there was filled with spiritual darkness. I saw people who seemed to be at peace and at rest. I saw couples strolling hand-in-hand who seemed very happy and content. I saw people deeply concerned about injustices – not just injustices toward the glbtq community – but global injustices. It was a very diverse kaleidoscope. But I also began to be moved in my physical gut with the kind of compassion that the scriptures describe Jesus feeling when he looked at the crowds and saw that they were harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd.
As I saw 50-something year old men walking naked, except for a dog-collar, down the street, something in my heart grieved….. What is their legacy in life? Who is their family? Where do they find a sense of purpose? What is their hope? A man, I’m guessing in his 40’s, was riding a tricycle, sucking a pacifier, dressed in a baby bonnet with a sign “big baby on board” …. and it just made me very sad in my spirit. Two transvestites were rather aggressively trying to pick up a very drunk lesbian (who thankfully blew them off after about 10 minutes) – and something in me just ached. Again, please don’t misunderstand me. It was not judgment I felt, nor offense particularly. I tried to be careful to not presuppose too much about these individuals’ lives outside of the few moments I witnessed. But in a deep place I felt a groaning and sadness ~ a sense of emptiness washing over me.
I hadn’t expected all of that to be honest. Though looking back I’m not surprised that God stretched my heart in unexpected ways. True compassion isn’t patronizing. It isn’t about judgment. The dictionary definition of compassion describes it as, “The deep feeling of sharing the suffering of another, together with the inclination to give aid or support or to show mercy.”
The Hebrew people saw compassion as a deep, visceral experience – of being moved to the depths of one’s being – but they also saw it as the place where life is created. Compassion, by its nature, is the recreation of life, the bestowing of grace. They saw compassion as the trembling womb. In fact, the Hebrew verb rakham meaning “have compassion” is closely associated with the noun rekhem which means womb. In Isaiah 49:15 God says, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
I believe the compassion that I felt in my body at Pride has everything to do with the longing of God to be known in the lives of those who are disconnected, lonely and empty – and needing to know the love of the Father.
I’m grateful to have been at Pride this year. Already, I’m looking forward to extending the invitation to more Christ-followers to volunteer with me next year. The Pride folks were fantastic. They were so grateful to have us there. Allan reports that some of the Pride Committee people were so intrigued that members of a church would want to come and volunteer (apparently it is the first time they’ve had volunteers “like us” :)), that some of them said they wanted to check out the Meeting House. Robert already said, “You guys have to come next year to help us get the vendors set up – this year it was a disaster.”
I was really grateful to simply be able to engage with my gay neighbours. I really enjoyed hanging with some of the other volunteers and having the opportunity to hear from some of the service group representatives. Some of the things I saw were hard to see, some things broke my heart, and some brought a smile to my face. I don’t have any grandiose notion that my presence at Pride is going to bridge the gap between the Christian community and the gay community ~ but I do think it is a step in the right direction. It puts me in a place where God can, even in spite of me, continue to work in my heart and to open my eyes to see what He sees.
This year, things finally seemed to come together in a small, under the radar, anonymous sort of service initiative. In partnership with the Meeting House, one of the churches we connect with, we gathered a small group of people willing to serve as volunteers – and offered ourselves to the Pride Toronto committee. The initial idea was that we would go down and pick up garbage after the parade. Simply show up, be the presence of Jesus, and serve our city. But God seemed to have a different idea. When I initially spoke months ago to the fabulously organized Lisa Duke, Volunteer Coordinator, she thought it would be great if we could help them ‘de-register’ the vendors. Basically, last year a lot of vendors all took off at the same time and left a lot of garbage behind – which cost Pride a lot of money because they had to pay the city more to clean it up. So Lisa thought it would be great if we could go around to the vendors on the last day of events, introduce ourselves, offer our service in helping them de-register and make sure their site was squeaky clean. It seemed, we were being given the opportunity to make connections and be in conversation, as well as helping to clean up. Cool.
So the big day finally arrived. The parade was finishing up and we got our volunteer t-shirts, our photo i.d., our meal and snack tickets, got pointed to the tent where there was a constant supply of pizza and water, and told to have fun. Robert, the food vendor coordinator, was so great and so glad to have us. Allan,one of TMH’s pastors and key coordinator for our involvement, kept saying how as pacifist BIC pastors they would have to “radically love” the vendors into cleaning up their sites – the big love-enforcers :).
We had a fair bit of time to wander around before we had to really get down to the business we were there for ….. and though I’d seen many photos of Pride and watched it on T.V in the past, I had never been ‘in the flesh’ at Pride before. To be honest, I’m a suburb soccer mom and don’t get downtown too much. So I did feel like a fish out of water. Not because I was shocked or offended …. but it was just a very different context than I normally find myself in. That’s good. It was colourful, diverse, loud, and lively.
When Robert began to give us our assignments, a few of us chose to work to help out the vendors who were not selling food. To be honest, I was still a bit fatigued and jetlagged from my recent trip out west, and it seemed this volunteer role included a bit more sitting. As I began to make my way to the various booths to introduce myself and begin giving reminders about ‘tear-down’ and cleanliness, I found myself engaging some very interesting people. There were the service group booths: AIDS education, anti-discrimination groups, anti-poverty groups, District School Board representatives, Youth Helpline, and even a Barack Obama booth. And then there were the vendors selling stuff: sunglasses, t-shirts, hats, leather goods, and sex toys including glass penises. Hmm. That was a little awkward I must say.
I had shared in my church that morning that I was heading down to Pride events to volunteer, serve and simply be the presence of Jesus by being there. The elder who prayed for me said, “That is going to be really hard. I could never do that.” I hadn’t really had a lot of time to think about it – or contemplate that it would be hard. I engage gay people all the time so I expected it to be a pretty normal, every-day experience. So I said to the elder, “That’s why God is sending me – because He’s called me and I want to do it.” But I want to do it so that I can share with other Christ-followers how they, too, can be present through love and service – to begin to undo the enmity and divide. As I shared with the other volunteers, our being there was more about us being changed than trying to change anyone else. Our hearts need to continue to be open to what God is saying to us as we show up and be present.
Having said that, however, I was a bit surprised by the ways it was hard to be present at Pride. I found it hard to listen to God – I think just because of my own sense of distraction by so many different sights and images to take in. I began to feel in my body a heaviness, fatigue and quite quickly developed a tremendous headache. I’ve experienced these sorts of things before – and not to get all oogedy-boogedy on anyone, but I know a sense of spiritual heaviness when I feel it. So while I did find it hard to hear what God might be saying, or to really pray much at all, I do feel that in my physical body I was both carrying the presence of God and encountering the presence of darkness. Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to suggest that every person there was filled with spiritual darkness. I saw people who seemed to be at peace and at rest. I saw couples strolling hand-in-hand who seemed very happy and content. I saw people deeply concerned about injustices – not just injustices toward the glbtq community – but global injustices. It was a very diverse kaleidoscope. But I also began to be moved in my physical gut with the kind of compassion that the scriptures describe Jesus feeling when he looked at the crowds and saw that they were harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd.
As I saw 50-something year old men walking naked, except for a dog-collar, down the street, something in my heart grieved….. What is their legacy in life? Who is their family? Where do they find a sense of purpose? What is their hope? A man, I’m guessing in his 40’s, was riding a tricycle, sucking a pacifier, dressed in a baby bonnet with a sign “big baby on board” …. and it just made me very sad in my spirit. Two transvestites were rather aggressively trying to pick up a very drunk lesbian (who thankfully blew them off after about 10 minutes) – and something in me just ached. Again, please don’t misunderstand me. It was not judgment I felt, nor offense particularly. I tried to be careful to not presuppose too much about these individuals’ lives outside of the few moments I witnessed. But in a deep place I felt a groaning and sadness ~ a sense of emptiness washing over me.
I hadn’t expected all of that to be honest. Though looking back I’m not surprised that God stretched my heart in unexpected ways. True compassion isn’t patronizing. It isn’t about judgment. The dictionary definition of compassion describes it as, “The deep feeling of sharing the suffering of another, together with the inclination to give aid or support or to show mercy.”
The Hebrew people saw compassion as a deep, visceral experience – of being moved to the depths of one’s being – but they also saw it as the place where life is created. Compassion, by its nature, is the recreation of life, the bestowing of grace. They saw compassion as the trembling womb. In fact, the Hebrew verb rakham meaning “have compassion” is closely associated with the noun rekhem which means womb. In Isaiah 49:15 God says, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
I believe the compassion that I felt in my body at Pride has everything to do with the longing of God to be known in the lives of those who are disconnected, lonely and empty – and needing to know the love of the Father.
I’m grateful to have been at Pride this year. Already, I’m looking forward to extending the invitation to more Christ-followers to volunteer with me next year. The Pride folks were fantastic. They were so grateful to have us there. Allan reports that some of the Pride Committee people were so intrigued that members of a church would want to come and volunteer (apparently it is the first time they’ve had volunteers “like us” :)), that some of them said they wanted to check out the Meeting House. Robert already said, “You guys have to come next year to help us get the vendors set up – this year it was a disaster.”
I was really grateful to simply be able to engage with my gay neighbours. I really enjoyed hanging with some of the other volunteers and having the opportunity to hear from some of the service group representatives. Some of the things I saw were hard to see, some things broke my heart, and some brought a smile to my face. I don’t have any grandiose notion that my presence at Pride is going to bridge the gap between the Christian community and the gay community ~ but I do think it is a step in the right direction. It puts me in a place where God can, even in spite of me, continue to work in my heart and to open my eyes to see what He sees.
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