"I do."

The Associate Press article about Phyllis Lyon and Del Martin, who will be the first same-sex couple to wed in San Francisco is the most emailed and second most viewed story on http://news.yahoo.com/

That is all.

Get On The Bus

The application deadline for the 2008 Soulforce Q Equality Ride has already passed, but I'm just now getting around to posting this video I put together for Gay Days in California. If you're moved by it and feel the urge to join, you might as well shoot the co-directors an email: Q@soulforce.org. You never know, maybe they'll find some room?



If you're not on the bus, you can still support the mission of the Equality Ride. It is an enormous undertaking--logistically, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and financially. While $250 will buy all of the riders lunch for a day, even $10 will help keep the wheels turning. Check it out some more and if you feel you can donate, I can vouch that it goes to good use.

Personal Experiments

As I set out to read Gandhi's autobiography, subtitled “The Story of My Experiments With Truth,” I find myself asking many questions. What does it mean to be a person of faith? What does it mean to be a member of the global community? How does that relate to family relationships and local communities? What does it mean to be a man, a human? What does it mean to be queer? How does one practice non-violence in daily life? Is non-violence the solution? Is it a path? What would Jesus do? What does justice look like? How does one foster truth and create justice.

Gandhi viewed his life as a series of experiments. Experiments with nonviolence, with diet, with celibacy. Experiments in creating personal change and spreading social change. This idea of experimentation resonates with me. Conversations I had over many months led me to understand the impact of diet, demand, and food processing on not only the environment but on the economy and ability to deal with poverty. I was not an overnight convert. As I strive to maintain a vegetarian diet, I find myself not living up to that ideal. “Stumbling”, “slipping”, “falling” are Christianese words I might have used in the past.

Is perfection possible? Perhaps the lens I should look through is not purity. Let's be honest, one person's vegetarian diet is not going to end the abuse of creation nor solve global hunger. When I understand my pursuit to be one of many experiments, the weight is lifted a bit. I have some breathing room.

In April, I made the decision to work toward a vegan diet. Having been a vegetarian for almost a year, it was not hard to begin removing the remaining animal products from my diet. Life happened. A series of stresses, increasing time away from my apartment and ability to cook for myself, lots of travel. I cracked. A pretty gross “chicken” sandwich at Roy Rogers was my undoing. There are so many problems in the world: US wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, violence across the global, a food crisis, global hunger, rising gas prices, domestic party, the second-rate treatment of LGBT people. And a chicken sandwich the only option unless I want to skip dinner or subsist on french fries. Great.

A chicken sandwich is not the end of the world. Yes, there are many problems inherent in the meat industry. But at that moment, I was juggling too many other experiments. Experiments in social justice for LGBT people and a reawakening that I—as a privileged member of Western society—have much to account for when it comes to my, perhaps indirect, subjugation of the world to my desires.

The seas have settled. I have centered myself and my advocacy around queer issues in New York City. I am educating myself around poverty, hunger, and homelessness issues. I'm preparing for studies and service. With those experiments in balance, I can return to my experiment with a vegetarian diet. Why adopt such a diet? What are the benefits? And more importantly, what are the costs? Are there unintended consequences? How do I balance a desire to reject violence and excess with the risk of indulging in what CS Lewis describes as a new kind of gluttony... a gluttony of “moderation” made to order through imposition?

I don't know. Perhaps a vegetarian diet isn't the answer. Perhaps non-violence is untenable. Perhaps the critics are correct and religion is not a force for good in the world. Perhaps.

In experimentation I have the freedom to be unsure. To test, to observe, to analyze and to adjust.

In what ways have you experimented?

Do I Believe?

The calling toward seminary or divinity school has been on my heart for a year now. I am settling into New York City, my family is a short trip away, I'm getting involved with social justice and LGBT activism in the city, Marble Collegiate Church has quickly become a home-away-from-home for me, work is exciting, and life is good.

"Life would be great if I didn't know any better," I often tell friends. But I do know better. I know that our global community is in the middle of a food crisis, I know that war is tearing up countries in the Middle East and Africa, I know that politics have been polarizing and divisive in the supposedly United States, and I know that a generation is aching for something deeper. I love my job, I think that I may have the best first job imaginable, though I am obviously biased. But I'm not quite sure how long I can stay put.


Blaine Hogan created a video showcasing Mars Hill Grad School and it captures in words, songs, and images my thought process as I weigh my future. Thanks to Stef, a YoungLife leader from my high school for the tip.


"what if..." an mhgs short film from difted on Vimeo.

Am I ready?

Marking History

When the California Supreme Court decision on marriage equality for gays and lesbians is remembered forty years from now, I hope that we remember the people and not just the policies. I hope that we remember my friend Diane Grey-Reed and her wife, who were married in a religious ceremony only months before and who rushed to the courthouse to legalize their nuptials. I hope we will remember the couples already signing up for ceremonies at my former church, La Verne Church of the Brethren. I hope we remember the brave San Francisco couples who boldly started this journey four years ago.

I am excited about couples we don't even know of yet. I am excited for the conversations between partners sparked on Thursday, "Is it time for us now?" I am encouraged by the young people who will find support and courage to share their stories and raise their voices. The relationships that will from the very first date hold open the option of marriage.

Unlike Massachusetts, California allows all couples to marry in the state which means when that person and that time comes, I have a pastor and a church in Los Angeles already waiting for me to come back. And that feeling is indescribable.

Congratulations California!

I have been tempted to rush a blog post off about California's recent decision. I've already seen 6 scroll past on my Google Reader and I've received (literally) 17 IMs about the case. I won't even bother linking to coverage because by now, only 3.5 hours later, you've probably read most of it. I'm going to give myself some time to digest the significance of what was just accomplished. And since I'm flying to Los Angeles tonight, I'm going to revel in the moment a bit before I put it all out in writing.

I will say though that I have been filled with overriding sense of happiness. My Facebook News Feed is now almost completely full of status changes about the decision. As I talk to friends, I hear that they too have been receiving happy IMs about it. The country is a buzz, justice is contagious.

Cheers!

Uncomfortable Anxiousness

With the California Supreme Court decision for marriage equality less than an hour away, I am uncomfortably anxious. In the past weeks, I have responded that I am "cautiously optimistic" when asked my thoughts on the case. Soon, I will be either excited or disappointed.

Having spent four years in California, I feel invested in this decision. As with the Maryland court case, I am reminded of the interesting position I find myself. Men and women I do not know will determine the validity of my relationships. Ability to form long-term relationships, affect on children, influence on the political climate ... very personal parts of my life are up for public debate.

It is uncomfortable for me and in that uncomfortable place I find strength. It is uncomfortable for the "Arab looking" man who is always stopped at airport security. It is uncomfortable for the black youth getting suspicious glances from subway patrons. It is uncomfortable for the female presidential candidate who is called a conniving bitch while all the men are bold and determined leaders.

And so today, I will not let this decision define me. If it is positive, I will celebrate and if it is negative, I will take a moment to grieve. But always I will continue striving for a world in which justice rolls down like water.

"How do I feel about the gays?"

At the Middle Church street fair, she spoke to the lady next to me who was passing out information about a theatre company. Their conversation was casual and ordinary. As she walked over to me, she surveyed the materials on the table, information about Soulforce NYC and various publications from national. Then she looked up at me,

"How do I feel about the gays?"

She asked as if it mattered, that her assessment of my humanity would mean something.

"I like you all."

It sounded a bit off, I wondered if she might have a mental or emotional disability which effected her interactions. But still, I heard it as if I should be grateful for approval. But that is not what she was saying.

"I used to be homeless. When I was pregnant and living on the street, three gay guys came up to me one day and said "You are coming with us." They picked me up and took me with them. "You need to be eating for two now," and they took care of me until I gave birth.

She grabbed my hand to shake and pulled me in to kiss my cheek. "Gay people took care of me when I needed it, there will always be a special place in my heart for you." She collected one of each publication we had on the table. "They didn't forget me and I won't forget you. I'm going to do everything I can for you."

She scribbled her name, number, and address down in case I ever want to talk. And then she hugged me and walked away. I hope I get to see her again.

And to the three gay men who took care of Lucille all those years ago, thank you. By touching her life, you touched mine as well.

Voices Not Heard

Today, hundreds of thousands of students around the country will mark today as a Day of Silence. Gay and transgender people, especially young people, are often intimidated into silence by fear and misunderstanding which perpetuates a culture of homophobia. They are silent about their lives, silent about their relationships, and silent in the face of injustice. It is a silence that does not end at graduation, in many parts of the country gay and transgender people are silent in their workplaces for fear of being fired. An estimated 65,000 members of the armed services are silent, despite—and often because of--the crucial roles many of them play. Even still, the military discharges two gay people every day.

It was silence that taught a 14-year old student in California to execute his gay and gender non-conforming classmate Larry at pointblank during class just this year.

Today young people around the country are silent to draw attention to the voices that are not being heard. As you go through your day, I ask you to consider the voices you are not hearing. Friend, family member, neighbor, co-worker, acquaintance from church, parent from school.

At the end of the day, these young people will break the silence and ask “What are we doing to end the silence?” I pose that question to you. What are you doing to end the silence? 90% of the Fortune 500 companies include sexual orientation in their non-discrimination. ION’s (and by extension qubo’s) non-discrimination policy does not include sexual orientation. What does that silence say about our workplace? In New York, a worker can be fired from her job solely because of her gender identity. What does that silence say about our state? In certain churches and synagogues, gay and transgender are not welcome, what does that silence say about our communities of faith?

The Day of Silence is a powerful display for individuals trapped in silence, for many it empowers them to break their own silence. With families, friendships, and lives on the line, silence is disastrous. Please feel free to come to me if you want to talk about any of these issues and how they might relate to your life and the lives of those around you.

However, there are still places in this country where the conversation is not happening. In October and November, 25 young adults will travel to colleges and universities which discriminate against gay and transgender students; places where breaking the silence could result in expulsion. Recognizing that this conversation is too important not to have, these young adults will go undeterred. I had the privilege of taking that journey last year. Along the way, some schools engaged in dialogue, others refused, but everywhere I saw the healing and transformative power of opening up with one another. You can find more information online at www.equalityride.com and can even donate to this fall’s ride.

I hope you’ll take a moment with me today to listen for the voices we aren’t hearing.

Unaccountable Rulers

The Washington Post reports:

The State Department's annual survey of human rights practices around the world calls Sudan's record "horrific" and notes that countries where power is in the hands of unaccountable rulers are the most systematic violators of human rights standards.

I wonder if that applies to American rulers only Africans...

On Food and Hunger

This Lenten season, I have come to appreciate hunger. I feel it more often and more constantly. It affects my moods and my productivity. I recognize every impulse to grab a snack and realize how lucky I am. It has made me particularly sensitive to the plight of the impoverished, here and abroad, and though I can not shed my privileged status--for I will always have the option of grabbing a snack or charging a quick meal--I can focus some of my energies to enable and empower others.

I have been attempting to maintain vegetarian eating for months now with success for the most part. There is a lot of explaining that comes with the territory. Why would you do that? Humans need to eat meat! That's just a fad. Are you sure you know what you doing, it's easy to get swept up.

There is no need to apologize for not eating meat. To quote a recent New York Times article:

Though some 800 million people on the planet now suffer from hunger or malnutrition, the majority of corn and soy grown in the world feeds cattle, pigs and chickens. This despite the inherent inefficiencies: about two to five times more grain is required to produce the same amount of calories through livestock as through direct grain consumption, according to Rosamond Naylor, an associate professor of economics at Stanford University.

Many vegetarians have thought-out, well-reasoned rationale for making their decisions. And they often have little to do with fad-diets or touchy-feely notions of animal humanity, they have to do with the hard facts of science and the very real consequences of our actions.

Lenten Reflections

Apologies for my protracted absence; though, this is not the first time so I wouldn't be surprised if the 5 people who read this are rolling their eyes thinking "This is old hat!" Lent is a journey that I could not have imagined and I am immensely grateful for it. Marble Collegiate Church makes their Wednesday Worship (WeWo) sermons available via iTunes podcast ... if you have a spare 20 minutes on any given day, check out any one (or all!) of the sermons in the "Jesus Asks..." series.

I have been keeping a journal during Lent and have mulled over whether not post excerpts from it here. I'm still undecided but this morning's entry is still haunting me so I'm going to share it:

Was it not necessary that the Messiah should
suffer these things and then inter into his glory?

--Luke 24:26

Luke 24 tells a surreal story. It gets at the heart of Christianity: regardless of what the Gospels say Jesus did or what his followers did after his death, did Jesus rise from the dead? Did he have a body of flesh and bones in which he could eat fish? And yet, could he prevent people from recognizing him, even as they spoke to him? How would that work?

Eventually, he leads the disciples out for a blessing and is taken up into heaven. Did he levitate, got out in a puff of smoke, or dissolve as though he was in an old-sci flick? Where did he go? And if he indeed had a physical body, what became of it? Is he (and his body) in some physical realm currently? If not, when did his body disappear? Once he was out of sight? When he left the atmosphere? And then...

Does any of that matter? What is the nature of a "gospel"? Is it an account of "factual" history or merely stories and theological statements. If Jesus did not appear in bodily form, what "really" happened and why do the Gospels seem to tell a different story? Does it matter if his body did not walk out of the grave? Where is it now?

Do I follow Jesus because his message resonates with my soul or because I believe he was sent from God and thus want good favor?
What motivates me?
Is it even possible to do (or believe) anything without the grace and ower of God?

Lent is a time of prayer and reflection. Sister Perry was right when she said the answers might be more questions.

I Feel Sick

I've had this post started for weeks now, unable to bring myself to finish it but given another push in the form of NG's highlighting of Ellen's powerful video:



I think the reaction is being felt around the country, maybe around the world: a very real feeling of nausea, that I might actually be ill. And even more frustrating is that I can't determine just why. Is it because somehow, violence still seems like an acceptable course of action in America? Is it because I'm not even surprised? Or is it because I feel absolutely helpless to stop it? That despite dedicating two months to Equality Ride, despite visiting with politicians, despite organizing communities, despite speaking at universities, people are still dying.

I do not understand where the outrage is when pastors say things such as “If ... some [gay or effeminate] guy opened the door for me, I’d rip his arm off and beat him with the wet end.” or why no one is taking crimes against queer people seriously. A young boy was executed in California and it doesn't blip on most of the nation's radar. I don't have much to add that hasn't been said before. I just need to stew.

Value in Tradition

Comfort is rightly taken in community. Traditions can lift us up. Lent in general and Ash Wednesday in particular are extra-Biblical traditions dating back as early as the fourth century. As a child I often bristled, “The Catholic Church just made them up!” Possibly, but after attending my first Ash Wednesday service, I feel blessed by this tradition. As a Protestant church, the Lenten season can be something we observe not out of obligation, but with deliberation. Jesus asks,

But what about you? Who do you say that I am?

And we cry, holy holy holy, is the lamb! Life is difficult, but it is also precious and sacred. New York is a whirlwind of city: meetings, tourists, traffic, shows, events, entertainment; everything moves at a breakneck pace. I've been here five months, almost half a year, and it feels as if I moved in just yesterday. Today, for the first time, I am moving with deliberation, taking in each step, each encounter, each experience with purpose and with thanksgiving. Soup and salad never tasted so good!

For ashes you are and to ashes you will return.

My time in this life is precious, what am I going to do with it?

Comfort in Community

"But what about you?" he asked. "Who do you say that I am?"

Sister Carol Perry has prepared a Lenten devotional for the church to journey through each morning. It is a compilation of questions that Jesus asks throughout the Gospels. This morning, I focused on this pivotal question from Matthew: What do I think of Jesus?

Comforter, role model, teacher, leader... sacrifice. Yes, all of these things. But was he a Savior? He transformed the lives of those around him. His message of grace and of justice resonates in believers who in very real ways change the world: Advent Conspiracy, BloodWaterMission, the homeless ministry of the church down the street. Savior, indeed.

But what else? Who do I say that he is?

The church community provides friendship and support. It is a place to go and there are always things to do. A faith in God and in Jesus gives an authority to the work of justice: it is not just because I think the way should be such, but rather because God demands it. It is nice to feel connected, needed, belonging. Am I a Christian because it provides a framework for me to operate within? A structure to live within and a community to be a part of? Those are not bad aspects of the Christian community; in fact, they may be some of its strongest assets, but are they enough? Do I believe in the ideals of community, faith, hope, grace, justice... or do I believe in One who laid them down first?

"Who do you say that I am?" Way to hit the ground running, Sister Perry!

Nervous About Lent

I have searched for Your will in all of this. I read, I have studied, I have prayed, I have discussed. It has been a long and difficult process and sometimes I worry that I have not progressed toward a greater understanding but slipped away from one. But everything You've shown me so far is that I must accept my orientation as one part of Your plan for my life. And so that is what I will do. I have asked those around me to approach this with an open heart and an open mind and so I have tried to do the same thing. If you have other plans for me, let me know; I am still listening.

Thus was the prayer I offered during my sophomore year in college at USC. I had only recently come out, after many years of struggling to find what was right. It took years for me to move from a place that saw all gay relationships (if not gay people) as sinful to a place that embraced the diversity of God's creation and recognized the value which gay and trans people have and the blessings that their relationships can bring. But even then, it was not an easy road.

I came out but had only a tentative understanding for what that meant to my life as a Christian. To be honest, I took a break, for all intents and purposes, from faith communities. I had grown up in an Evangelical Presbyterian Church, immersed in YoungLife, and (occasionally) attending Campus Crusade with friends. Being gay didn't fit in any of those places and I wasn't sure where to go.

I realized that Christian faith had played such a formative role in my life that I simply couldn't abandon it and I slowly began to walk back towards it, attempting to piece together everything I thought I knew and believed.

Senior year of college I had been dating Pat, a guy I met through my former roommate Frank, for about six weeks when Chase Edler died in a skateboarding accident. I'd only met Chase once but he was close friends with many of my good friends and the roommate of one of my best friends. It was unexpected and it hit me hard. I could not wait any longer to figure out who God was or to determine my relationship to the Creator. As my (straight) roommate Sean would later put it: "Nice guy, things were going great. But then Brian freaked out."

I ended the relationship and immediately began to question whether I had been living authentically for the past three years. Is this really what God wanted? For awhile, I thought I had made a tragic mistake. I launched back into small group, started going back to church regularly, and made it a habit to study the Word.

This time I was sure: God didn't create in me a capacity to love so that I might deny it.

Equality Ride only cemented my understanding that anti-gay teachings are thoroughly misguided. No matter how dressed up with smiles the teachings may be, they lack a cogent Scriptural basis and wreck havoc upon the lives they reach. Bad fruits if I've ever tasted them. Soulforce reminds us--gay, straight, Christian, atheist, condemning, affirming--that one must not chose one or the other. Interactions save lives and restore faiths.


I have been blessed with Marble Collegiate Church, a beautiful church community, since moving to New York City. I have also been challenged to grow in my faith in greater ways than ever before. Sometimes I can feel the growing pains as my soul stretches. And as Lent approaches, I'm preparing for even more growth. Growing up Protestant, Lent is not a time of year that is often focused on, and this will be my first year observing it. I am excited to set aside the upcoming 40 days and call them holy, to use them to grow in my understanding of my faith, and to appreciate the ultimate sacrifice which Jesus of Nazareth made on our behalf.

And yet, I can't say that I am not nervous. Sometimes, when I go to sleep I wonder if those growing pains are my soul aching to return to a Truth I've been missing. When Lent comes, when my comforts are stripped away, when I am left face to face with God; what will I find? My sophomore year prayer is in my head and in my heart every day. I take it with me wherever I go. I'm still listening, but will I be strong enough to change if I hear something different this time? Will I be confident enough to lay it to rest if the challenge I face is continued advocacy or even greater sacrifice for justice? On this year's Mardi Gras I'm left wondering if I didn't skip out on Lent because it was "too constructed by humans" but rather because it was too inspired by God.

Lent approaches and I am nervous, but I am ready.

Where to begin

For three weeks WeWo focused on the soul. Not surprisingly, suffering was examined at length. “Life is difficult.” That is the opening line of M. Scott Peck's The Road Less Traveled and it is something our pastor Dr. Arthur Caliandro repeats often. Indeed life is difficult. From finding food to eat in remote villages to navigating family relationships in a metropolis, we humans are faced with the difficult task of navigating through life.

What struck me about Pastor Lewicki's sermon was that it focused not on why we suffer or even how to avoid suffering, but rather how to respond to suffering. He painted the picture of a river of suffering that runs through life, everyone eventually comes to it. We can stand on the side and never cross or we can wade and swim and struggle through. It is easy, maybe even natural, to desire the comfort and safety of the river shore, but it is only through navigating those difficult waters that a soul can grow. “Our souls are smaller than they could because it is easier, safer,” David says.

But there is another way. Simone Weil, a wealthy European Jew quit her lucrative job to work in a factory. When the Nazis rose to power she escaped to England and lived on the rations of those in occupied France. Inspired by a conversion to Christianity, She worked endlessly for justice for the working class and then for the Jews during the reign of Hitler. She believe that:

“It is possible for a person to engage in and take seriously, even take on, the suffering of others. One can not only live with suffering, but live as a suffering person, in a way that does not wallow in it or glorifies it but trusts that God will use even suffering to dignify and even elevate the human soul”

As David continued to talk about suffering and our response to it, both our own suffering and that of those around us, I remembered just how important Equality Ride was. That voluntary redemptive suffering is not an idea someone cooked up recently. It isn't even a tactic that Gandhi created. Rather, voluntary redemptive suffering is a very basic way in which we can confront suffering and injustice and rise above it, refusing to be beaten down. Suffering can “compress the human soul into a cramped knot of bitterness” as Weil said, or it can explode it into something powerful and beautiful, as I saw in my two-months on the road and the unexpected path my life has since taken.

I return to a faith in Christ not because I expect to make life easier, or prettier, or more orderly. Far from it, for my life has been more demanding, more taxing, and more uncertain than ever before, but it has also been more fulfilling.

I remember when I was growing up and beginning to realize that there was “something different,” it was my faith in God that supported me. That whatever the reaction of the world may be, I could take shelter in the Lord. I'm not sure what type of person I would have become if I didn't have if the pressures of the world did not forge me into the person I am today; I’m learning to harness the strength I gained in swimming across that whirlpool of a river.

Life is difficult.

Checking In

I have been a lot spinning around in my head over the past few months. There is a lot to talk about but it is overwhelming to even think about how to say it and say it well. Grace, justice, God's will, my life, my future, my walk with Christ: it's all been stewing, enhanced by some great time reading in Scripture.

More recently there was this week's WeWo service, today's sermon on Micah 6:8. Connection's discussion on Lent, discussions with Sam about Passion, and general reflection. Life has been challenging and rewarding and I'm looking forward to getting it all out it writing.

But for now, there's the Super Bowl.

Duh.

The Washington Post reports that the Maryland Circuit court affirmed the Maryland State School Board which affirmed the Montgomery County school board which included information about sexual orientation in the health education curriculum. The judged ruled there was no reason to "second-guess the appropriateness" of the curriculum chosen by the Montgomery community. Which includes giving the factually correct answer "No," if asked if being gay is a mental disorder.

For all the talk of activist judges and special interest groups ramming agendas... it seems is is the anti-gay agenda which is out of step with the people, the public interest, and the process of law.

Falling Into Grace

I attended Wednesday Worship at Marble Collegiate last night, as per usual, and Pastor Lewicki's sermon touched upon some themes that have been on my heart recently. Also as per usual, timing was miraculous. I've got a bunch to say about the sermon (you can subscribe to the podcast) but for now I want to share a verse from "If I Stand" by Rich Mullins, one of the songs we sang:

If I stand, let me stand on the promise that you will pull me through
And if I can't, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to you

For me, those two lines stand out as a beautiful encapsulation of what it means to walk with God.