Letting Love Win

I've started writing several blog posts about the recent victory for gay marriage in our country.  Some of them have been happy and optimistic, and some of them have been downright angry and bitter.  This one came out kind of sad, but I think it's the truest representation of how I feel about the anger a lot of folks in the Christian church are currently feeling.  It's a difficult time to be a queer Christian. Obviously, things aren't all bad.  Most of my friends are very supportive.  My family loves me, and my sexual orientation hasn't changed that.  Of course, we just got nationwide marriage rights, which is a HUGE thing that I'm so excited about.  I'm helping local churches come together to run a reconciliation table at Tacoma PRIDE, and I'm very excited to be celebrating my first-ever pride out-of-the-closet!

These are all great things that I'm very excited about, but I think this post was important to write.  It's a modified version of a letter I wrote to an anti-gay friend of mine.  At least, I hope we're still friends.  

For those of you who support LGBTQ+ rights, thank you.  For those of you who, like me, are part of this group, congratulations!  And be careful.  There are a lot of angry, confused folks out there.  For those of you who are part of the group that is lamenting the Supreme Court's decision about this issue, please read this.  I'm not trying to change your mind, but I do want you to understand the effect your words have on people like me.  

No matter where you land on this issue, please be kind to each other. 

-----------

I wanted to send this to you personally, instead of posting it publicly. I'm not trying to embarrass or shame you, and there are a lot of people who have been ranting in your comment sections. When I started writing this note, I was angry. And I wanted to say some really hurtful things. But my mom taught me when I was little that anger is usually caused by feeling sad or hurt or some other negative emotion, and when that emotion is hard to deal with, you pick anger instead, because anger feels less vulnerable. That's true. I'm not angry with you; I'm sad. I'm hurt. And I understand if this is the point where you stop reading. That's totally up to you, but I wanted to give you the chance to understand why what you've said has affected me this way. I am a Christian, and I am a member of the LGBT+ community. And it is heartbreaking for me to see some of the posts you've been making this past week. I know you don't think these posts are personal attacks, but this issue is personal, no matter what side of it you're on. It's when things get "not personal," that you start dehumanizing groups of people. "Gays" are not some mysterious outside force attacking religion. We are people. Individuals. And I'd bet money you know more homosexuals than you realize. Statements like the ones you've been making are the reason why for the first 20+ years of my life, I didn't believe that God could ever really love me. Regardless of whether or not you believe God "loves gay people anyway," it is almost impossible to believe that there is a place for you in the church when people are constantly telling you that you're "wrong," "broken," a "sexual deviant."

All any of us want is to be able to live our lives in peace, and love the people we love. I hope someday you change your mind. I don't know that you will, and I can't ask you to. If I believed the same things you believe, I would probably react the same way to the decisions that have been made lately. I will say this though; please be careful about how you treat people, and how you talk about this issue. To someone like me, the way you throw your words around could mean the difference between seeing Christians as loving or hateful. It doesn't have to be LGBT+ vs. Christians. The two are not mutually exclusive. I know where I live now, they aren't. But not every young gay Christian is as lucky as I am, and I have seen a heartbreaking number of people walk away from the church because they can't change their orientation, and they don't think that God can love them anymore.

Please understand I am not angry with you. I just wanted you to be aware of how the things you say affect some people. It's a lot more hurtful than you think, and you're not convincing anyone not to be gay anymore, but you might be convincing them that the church is not for them. And I know that's not at all your goal.

I understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore, but please don't attack me for what I'm saying now. It came from a place of real vulnerability.

Called to Wait

In February, I went to California with several dozen young adult missionaries from various other service programs around the country.  We were participating in a retreat that was designed to give us some time away from the stress of the everyday to discern God’s calling on our lives.  There was a small part of me that wondered why I even agreed to go, considering that at that moment, I had the rest of my near-future mapped out for myself.  I had decided that God was calling me to work in food justice.  I was planning on heading to culinary school after my service term was over, then getting my M.Div. so I could help feed hungry people.  It sounded like a great plan to me.  Until I went to California. 

I wasn’t actually feeling called to go to culinary school, or seminary, or really anything for that matter.  And for a while, that made me angry with God.  I felt abandoned.  Deep down, I think I also felt entitled.  I felt as though God owed me some great calling to ministry.  Almost as though following God this far was just a down payment, and I was waiting for the payoff that came with my good behavior. 

So, since God was obviously not going to tell me what I was supposed to do, I started trying to manufacture my own calling out of things I enjoyed doing.  I like to cook?  What’s a way I can make that into a calling from God?  Food justice?  That sounds good.  I guess I’m called to work in food justice.  Problem solved.

Except, the main issue with that, is that when you make decisions on God’s behalf, they’re very rarely the right decision.  I almost spent several years and hundreds of thousands of dollars to become certified to do something I wouldn’t be happy doing.  Why?  Because I’m impatient.

I sought out some one-on-one time with one of the leaders of the retreat on the third day I was there.  The question I had for him was one that embarrassed me; “I did the opposite of what most of these people did.  I came here with a clear calling in my head, and I feel like I’m leaving without any direction at all.  What do I do?”

He asked me questions about where I wanted to be.  This made me uncomfortable, because I knew the answer, but I figured that wasn’t where God was calling me.  It was just where I wanted to be.  The easy path.  But he told me two things that I think are so important:

1. God’s timing is not our timing.

In the book of Luke, we meet Simeon, who was told he would not die until he had seen the Messiah.  Some historians in the Eastern Orthodox Church believe that Simeon was over two hundred years old when this finally happened.  Simeon, in this case, was called to wait.  A long time.  And I’m sure there were plenty of times when he doubted he would ever see Christ, but God followed through with that promise.

2. It doesn’t have to be difficult or scary for it to be what God wants from you.

Sometimes I think we feel like we have to sacrifice what we believe will make us happy in order to follow God.  Like we need to be miserable or struggling in order for the work to matter.  But while we may sometimes be called to, “Leave everything and follow,” sometimes we’re called to stay put and do good work where we are.  God’s call is different for everyone.

So I am answering the call to wait.  I’m going home to Upstate New York, and I’ll be living with my older sister and her beautiful family.  I’ll be in the Saratoga Springs area, and I’m currently looking for a job if anyone hears of anything.  Mostly, I’m just excited to take a break from living such a transient life.  I’m looking forward to not wondering where I’m moving to in a few months, which has been almost a constant question for me since I was seventeen. I’m excited to read books and cook and play with my nieces.  I’m excited to be a couple hours’ drive from the rest of my family.  I’m also excited to make plans for my future.  As the retreat leader in California told me, waiting is not a passive thing.  There is a lot of work in waiting.  There’s a chance to learn and to grow and to prepare so that when you’re called to move, you’ll be ready.

For those of you who are wondering where I’ll end up, that is an excellent question, and one that I still struggle with.  Looking back both at the journaling I did at the retreat, and at my own journey up to this point, one of the major themes that keeps emerging for me is mental health.  In college, I started out as an art major, but I took so many psychology classes that I accidentally minored in it and ended up changing my degree to reflect this.  I enjoyed my art classes, for the most part, but psychology was where I really flourished.  I loved learning about how the mind works.  I love helping people.  I love listening and I’ve been told I give good advice and that people feel like they can trust me.  Maybe eventually I’ll go back to school to be a therapist.  It’s the one idea I can’t get out of my head.  For now though, I’m looking forward to getting a job, killing off some of my student loans and reconnecting with friends and family in New York.