The Welcoming Congregation: Living the Promise
January 13th, 2008
The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
When I was in junior high school in the late ‘50s, Thursday was considered “queer day.” As I recall, if one wore green on that day, one risked being taunted as gay (though the word “gay” still only meant “happy” in those days! If we were polite, we’d say “homosexual.” But “Queer” was the preferred term; it implied weirdness - otherness.)
Why Thursd ay was the designated day, or green the prohibited color, I’ve no idea. But none of us seemed to question the rationale; we just made sure we didn’t wear that color on that day!
More importantly – and more sadly, neither did any of us seem to question the assumption that to be gay was bad.
When I was in high school, the handsome young assistant priest at the Episcopal church my family attended was caught soliciting men in a restroom. We were all shocked, I remember. He’d seemed so nice and well - normal; who would have thought he was “one of those?!”
When I was attending Immaculate Heart College – one of the most radical Catholic schools around in the early ‘60s, a friend was accused of being a lesbian and subsequently expelled. I was shocked – not that they would expel her for it, but that she was “one of those.” I’d just had no idea! But it didn’t occur to me at the time to be outraged at the treatment she was receiving.
A number of years later, I had a crush on a male co-worker who one day confided in me that he was gay. Again, I’d had no idea. And while I wasn’t repelled by this information – I’d since grown enough to know it wasn’t a sign of mental illness or immorality. I still thought that he probably just hadn’t met the right woman –me! And so I set out to try to change him. Needless to say, I was sorely disappointed!
It wasn’t really until I entered Seminary that my mind and heart truly began to open to the fact that a person could be gay, lesbian or bisexual, and that this was an essential and natural part of who they were as a person.
But it wasn’t until I began serving a congregation that I learned that even good Unitarian Universalists, who could pass significant resolutions supporting the ordination of gay and lesbian ministers, as well as the marriage of same-gender couples, could still refuse to welcome them fully into their religious communities.
Nor was it until I was serving a congregation that my mind and heart began opening to transgender people. It was there that I met a for the first time – at least to my knowledge – a man who was a straight cross-dresser. His wife would joke of the unfairness that he got to have twice the closet space she had!
And it was there that I met for the first time – at least, to my knowledge – a transsexual person. I will never forget the courage with which this young woman introduced herself at her father’s memorial service, acknowledging to the guests that many of them had known her as her father’s son, and now were being introduced to her as his daughter.
But despite these experiences, I am still not immune from heterosexism – from an unconscious chauvinism grounded in a culture that still views non-straight sexuality and transgenderism as sick or immoral. I don’t suppose any of us is immune from it.
And that’s why our denomination created the Welcoming Congregation program, which Emerson became a part of a in 1997; and why they’ve more recently created the “Living the Welcoming Congregation” program, which Emerson is about to embark on.
We are going to hear now from three members of the LWC Task Force. And then I hope you will remain after the service to hear more about the program, and hopefully to register for it. For it is one very important way that we can live our first UU Principle which promotes “the worth and dignity of every person.” Our affirmation that the Holy Spirit of Life created each of us exactly the way we were meant to be - as a profound gift.
(BELL)
Meredith
When Rev.Anne asked me to speak, it was to answer the basic question: Why do I do what I do in working for BGLT equality and the Freedom to Marry? I’m straight and married, don’t have any family members who’re gay that I know of, haven’t been maligned or discriminated against for my failure to shun BGLT people. I have no apparent dog in that fight. So why would I get myself so involved in something that I could just as easily observe from a nice, safe distance?
The easy answer is that I can. The work doesn’t necessarily require special skills, which is right up my alley. The work needs doing, especially now that some homophobic groups and individuals are trying to get us to change the state constitution to specifically exclude the possibility of legal recognition that BGLT people love like and as deeply as the rest of us. In my mind, it isn’t any different than Jim Crow or anti-miscegenation laws, or the long-standing ignorance of women’s suffrage, among other artificial rules of life.
The next easiest answer is that I’m Unitarian Universalist from a congregation that’s worked to earn the label of a Welcoming Congregation. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to take either of the previous sessions, due to a few too many other commitments, so I know I’m missing something very special. This time around I’m all in, not just an interested bystander.
Then, Rev.Anne challenged all of us to walk the talk of support in a sermon in early 2005 and I took her up on it. I actually went to the march and rally she mentioned in West Hollywood that Spring and nothing bad happened. In fact, I made my first leap to working outside of the usual UU channels and joined the LA Gay and Lesbian Center’s Vote for Equality Campaign. That’s brought me back around this year to work with the UU Legislative Ministry’s Marriage Equality Leadership Team. The Great Wheel of Life sometimes turns in unexpected ways.
While all of this sounds like a whole bunch of hard work, and a big time commitment, I find I’ve definitely gained at least as much as I’ve given. I didn’t really expect that. I’ve met some truly great and inspiring people. I’ve learned some new skills, like canvassing and cold calling. I can’t really say I enjoy those particular skills, but doing them anyway has been a liberating stretch of my tolerance level for putting myself out there. In acting as if I could, I found I can.
I think I’ve learned to listen a lot better than I have in the past. There are many stories out there and in here, too. Everyone’s story is unique and not all of them have been told. Listening deeply and giving them time to settle often allows the listener to hear more than just what’s said.
One story I heard while doing a polling place canvass was from a man whose niece came out to the family as a lesbian. They come from a conservative Christian background, Baptist, I think, and the whole family is very close and loving. At least, that’s his interpretation. He told me his niece has a girlfriend who she sometimes brings to family gatherings. When I asked him how he’d feel if his niece said she wanted to marry her, he laughed. He said he sometimes teases his niece about being gay, about being in a relationship, neither of which he takes seriously. He figures it’s just a phase, not a real way to be in the world, and that she’ll eventually drop it.
What he didn’t say, because he doesn’t know it, is the effect his dismissive attitude has on his niece. As with most teasing, it really isn’t meant entirely in fun. If it can get her to change back to “normal”, he’d probably be very satisfied with himself. In the meantime, what about her? How does she feel about being marginalized in her own family?
Another story I heard came from here. I think it’s time to share it. After the second version of Welcoming Congregation was completed, when most of us were feeling pretty good about it and us, something very bad happened. Most of us don’t know about it, because it wasn’t meant for us. Someone who used to attend, who was loved and respected by many, fell dangerously ill. After struggling back to partial recovery and rejoining us on a regular basis, this person was given an entirely unexpected pronouncement from a long-time Emerson member. It came basically out of the blue after the service one day. She was told that her condition is God’s punishment for being gay.
She was, needless to say, shocked. The person who told me was shocked, as was I. My immediate reaction was: who the hell would say such a thing? Here, in this building? When so many have done the deep work, twice, to become more understanding and welcoming of BGLT people? In a congregation which, in general, embraces all points of view, religious and secular?
I’m glad the person who told me didn’t tell me who said it. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that none of us can assume that all of us are of the same mind on this or on anything else. Not everyone here welcomes everyone who walks in the door. Not everyone who goes into this next round of Welcoming Congregation classes will emerge entirely healed of their misconceptions and miseducation.
What matters, now that I’ve let the story percolate and settle on my mind and heart, is that I know what binds us and gives us the possibility for communion is our continuing covenant to adhere to our first principle: respect for the inherent worth and dignity of every person. It’s a choice, after all, not a commandment, and one that must be made repeatedly, every time we meet someone new, or find out something we didn’t know before about someone we thought we knew well. It’s the principle we probably struggle with the most. Still, the choice is there.
(BELL)
Rhod
It is noteworthy how much attitudes change as one gains a bit of knowledge. I did not have much contact knowingly with any gays as I grew up. I do recall one gentleman who was a good friend of my parents. They made a point out of telling me he was gay. I never quite understood why I needed to know that about the gentleman (I was 6 or 7), because it was about all I knew about him except he was a phrenologist and a good friend, both facts that I consider more important than his sexual orientation.
During my high school days, circa 1950, most of us felt it was okay to disrespect gays and even make jokes about them we considered harmless. At the same time, my best friend Mike and I shared a lot of anger after Mike’s favorite teacher was either fired or forced to resign because he was gay. Mike and I revisited our anger many times concerning that gentleman’s termination well after high school graduation. Although we each clearly needed a lot of improvement in our attitudes toward gays, we obviously had strong feelings about justice – including the rights of gay men and women.
© 2008 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
