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Reflections
on Lynchburg
By Doug Donley
I
never even got close enough to the Rev. Jerry Falwell to touch him, make eye
contact or shake his hand. But that’s all right. There were enough people
doing that. Besides, I figured it was more important for him to shake hands with
and encounter gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender (glbt) folk than this
non-gay white guy, even though he is a fellow Baptist Pastor. I was much more
interested in meeting his people.
I
was one of 200 people who traveled to Lynchburg, Virginia recently to meet the
Rev. Jerry Falwell and his cohorts in order to encourage them to tone down the
rhetoric against the sexual minority community. I was one of seven people from
the Bay Area, including fellow church member Dave Chandler. We know so well that
hate speech leads to violence. We also know that hate speech comes from
ignorance. We all had stories to share. And we were determined to share them. A
month ago, I wrote Jerry Falwell a letter and in it I said:
"Many
of the gay and lesbian members of my community would not dare step foot in a
church, let alone a Baptist church. They have been too wounded by the
judgmental, cruel and shortsighted pronouncements made by Baptist ministers
such as yourself. Many have contemplated suicide. Many have lost their faith
in God. As a fellow minister, I know this must horrify you. Sadly, people less
intelligent than you and I will see your attacks against gay and lesbian
people as justification for their own violence against gay and lesbians. I
pray that you will cease using public media to spread fear and
misunderstanding about homosexual people."
This
is personal to me. I was denied ordination twice because I would not say
homosexuality was a sin and I now serve as Pastor of San Francisco’s only
Welcoming and Affirming Baptist church. Most gay members of my church have been
the victims of gay-bashing at one time or another. I am also a brother of a
lesbian sister and I would not dream of encouraging her to change her
orientation since it is part of who she is. I see her orientation as a gift from
God. That’s why I had to go to Lynchburg.
The
people who traveled to Lynchburg were not pie-in-the-sky passive pawns. No, we
were committed to active nonviolence. We each logged on to www.soulforce.org
and took a seventeen-step course in nonviolent social change. Ain’t the
internet great? For months, we prayed for Jerry and his followers. We prayed
that our spirits be renewed. We knew that if we were not able to love Jerry,
yes—love Jerry Falwell, then we were not ready for this encounter.
The
nonviolence training changed me. Nonviolence has two goals. The first is your
own personal spiritual renewal. The second goal is to transform society. As an
activist for the past two decades, I can tell you that I have heavily weighted
my activity on the other side—the transforming of society side. I will march
down streets. I will get arrested. I will preach. But I will also let my anger
get the better of me. I will fall into the abyss of depression. My words will
contain the bite and sting of distrust and cynicism. Who wants a transformed
society with a bunch of people who look and act like that? The weekend in
Lynchburg renewed my spirit.
I
had to confront the fact that for all of my idealism and activism, if my spirit
was not renewed, then I had no business there. If I was not right with God; if I
was not willing to love my enemies and pray for those who persecute me and those
I love; if I was not willing to take the insults and the blows without
retaliating—taking the suffering upon myself; if I was not willing to be
relentless in the struggle, then I was not ready for nonviolent social action.
I
had to come to grips with my own blinders. I don’t tend to trust folks who
continue to demonize those whom I love. But when I let that hatred consume me, I
lose part of myself. I hand my best self over to my enemies. I walk around angry
and depressed. Gandhi and Martin Luther King teach us that love is more powerful
than hate. When we are armed with the truth, we have already won. And in the
process we are transformed. Gandhi taught that our passion is released only when
we leave behind the clutter of our lives. This includes our own petty hurts, our
worry about our position and privilege. This kind of prayerful focus was new for
me. This meant searching my own soul—even realizing that some of my words and
actions had not been loving.
And
yet, if you are aware of the blessings and the mercy of God and the sureness of
your mission, I learned, then you are on the way to spiritual renewal. And only
renewed people can effectively change society for the better because those kinds
of people seek a new kind of community, not just a victory.
On
Saturday afternoon we began to create that new community. I sat down at a table
with a student and a professor from Liberty University, the college that Jerry
founded. In between speeches from Jerry Falwell and Mel White (his former
ghostwriter, author of Stranger at the Gate: to be Gay and Christian in
America, and gay activist) we rushed through our stories. One of the main
reasons for the hatred of the glbt community is ignorance. Folks don’t know
out-of-the-closet gay folks. Too few folks know "straight" Baptist
ministers who welcome glbt people as full members of their congregations without
making them change their sexual orientation. We came armed with the truth. Jesus
said, "you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free."
The
college junior sitting at my table had decided only the day before that she
would attend. If they were judgmental against us, it didn’t show. But they
were nervous. Once the ice was broken, however, we laughed, cried, spoke about
family, careers, friends, hopes, dreams and fears. We began a relationship that
I hope will last.
Those
in positions of power don’t always want to hear the stories, because they are
hard to refute—they add validity to the cause of the opposition and they
undermine their domination. That is why this meeting was so historic. For the
first time, we were able to share our stories one with another across the gulf
that divides too many of us. We tend to demonize our opponents, which keeps us
where we are. And there is an odd safety in tradition, in predictability. But it
also rots our souls.
Jerry
Falwell surprised me. He surprised us. He started out by apologizing for his
violent words and vitriolic fundraising letters. He vowed to watch his words and
his actions very carefully. When he told parents of gays and lesbians to love
their children and not kick them out of their homes, we stood on our feet and
applauded. Mel White was right when he said, "Jerry, that statement alone
will save lives." Jerry Falwell took a huge chunk out of the wall of
division which he helped to create. The wall is still pretty much intact, but
it’s not as strong as it used to be.
Jerry
Falwell has a long way to go. He still says "hate the sin, love the
sinner." He doesn’t understand that calling homosexuality a sin is a form
of spiritual violence. He still uses "the gay lifestyle" when talking
about the supposed sin of homosexuality. He needs to start talking about
orientation, but to do that would admit that God created people gay or lesbian.
Jerry Falwell doesn’t understand (yet) that having an angry ex-gay on the
podium talking about how he left the life of gay debauchery to be a Christian is
also an affront to the deep faith of our glbt sisters and brothers. Jerry
Falwell continues to lump homosexuality with drunkenness and promiscuity—sins
which he says need to be conquered. But he was right in saying that he has spent
more time and energy loving those other sinners than he has loving gays and
lesbians.
But
we should not lose the importance of the victory in Lynchburg. Jerry Falwell
called on people to love their gay children. He called for an end to physical
violence against gays and lesbians. He said he was wrong to caricature the glbt
community based upon the outrageous actions of the fringe. What we showed him
was that a large part of this community is not a whole lot different than his
community: boring.
One
of our Buddhist friends shared the following quote which we held as a mantra for
the weekend: "The thought manifests as the word. The word manifests as the
deed. The deed develops into habit. The habit hardens into character. So watch
the thought and its ways with care. Let it spring from love born out of concern
for all living things."
But
the important victory in Lynchburg was not reflected in the speeches or the
sound bytes or the posturing. The real victory is that we shared stories. There
are now 200 stories which cannot be denied in his community. We also have 200
stories and more from our Lynchburg counterparts, which we need to share. The
community is being created across the gulf that has divided us. And somehow,
that gulf does not seem so insurmountable anymore. I have a little more hope
that if either of my two young daughters should realize that they were lesbian,
that they might live in a church and a society that embraced them without
judgement, fear or violence. But it will take a lot more work than a weekend in
Lynchburg.
Now
comes the hard part. Not only do we need to defend Jerry Falwell for what he
promised, we have to hold him to those promises. And we need to do the hard work
of making this world a better place. We have to expand the use of Soulforce
principles and foster understanding above posturing about crucial issues.
There
is still a lot work ahead, but what a beginning. In Lynchburg, I met 400 sweet
gentle people committed with all their hearts to the pursuit of justice. I know
my spirit has been renewed by this experience. And I am ever more committed to
taking the next chunk out of the wall that separates my glbt sisters and
brothers from the rest of the household of faith.
Rev.
Douglas M. Donley was Pastor of Dolores Street Baptist Church in San Francisco
when the article was written. He now serves as pastor of University Baptist
Church in Minneapolis.
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