Profoundly Offended

It's been a long time since I've cried. I don't mean the single tear out of the corner of my eye and that heart felt feeling of getting choked up inside after seeing a movie or hearing a song that triggered a memory. I mean that gross, nasty, snot running down my nose, mouth crinkled, with waterfall tears flowing from my eyes kind of cry. I'm talking about utter weeping. Have you ever weeped before? I was completely a mess! Driving home on the freeway, I could barely see the road as my eyes were full of tears and my heart wrenched in sorrow.

It was only last Wednesday night that I was feeling so free. I was feeling liberated. I felt like I no longer had to be silent. I could be known as the man that I am. To understand my weeping, you really have to read the last post, "Living Life As All Of Me" (if you haven't already), because that's the frame of mind I was in the very next day when Thursday night hit me . . . .

The very nature of the work that I do in the non-profit organization that my ministry partner and I co-founded is somewhat twofold: helping people to live out their faith and encouraging unity in the 'Body of Christ' (that's Christianese for the whole 'Church'). We started our work here in Long Beach, California (2nd highest gay population in California next to San Francisco) about three and a half years ago and we now have operations in several cities throughout the Los Angeles metropolitan area here in the Southern California region. We work with leaders in churches, businesses, community organizations, schools, city government, and neighborhoods to build relationships with each other, establish trust, identify a common concern, and partner together for tangible growth in a city. It's very exciting stuff and we do this with passion!

So here's the thing. We are a part of an event taking place in January where many organizations from throughout Los Angeles are coming together to identify positive indications of hope and life in the city - both in and out of the Church. I am part of the planning committee. We identified a location for the event and were proceeding with organizing the logistics of everything when a concern was raised. A pretty major concern.

The pastor of the church where we were planning on having the event is gay.

Of course, now everyone has to have a meeting about it. Phone calls are made. Emails are sent out. Conversations are taking place about the appropriateness of having our event at this location. Should we have it there? Would we be endorsing this man's "lifestyle" by having our event there? Will people be offended if they knew that this church where we were having this event at is "open and affirming"? What if people see the rainbow flags at this church's Web site? What if our key speakers back out because they don't want to be a part of an event at a "place like this"? What if people choose not to come to the event because it's at a "place like this"? What if God doesn't show up because it's at a "place like this"?

Goodness. Here we go, about to enter the hot zone - that place where the Church's unspeakable topics and dirty little secrets dwell.

Immediately, efforts were made to find an alternate location for the event. The excuse was made that the alternate location was cheaper (but in reality it is logistically less convenient for the event). The initial discussion was that we were going to take the issue to the larger planning group to decide what we wanted to do about the location of the event. Before that happened, the decision was made to contract with the alternate location. As people began to discuss it, the excuse about the cheaper location was presented as the primary reason for making the change - justification for not giving the rest of the planning committee an opportunity to weigh in and voice their opinion or concerns about the issue.

It was a lie.

The ones who brought up the issue in the first place were not being honest. They were masking the real reason why the location was changed without anyone else's input about the matter.

The location was changed because the pastor of the church, who communicated a tremendous heart and love for God and his community, is gay. They refused to acknowledge every indication of hope and life that could be seen through this ministry because he is gay.

I felt profoundly offended. I felt silenced. I felt second-class. I was a part of some of the early discussion but I, like the rest of the group, was denied an opportunity to speak to the issue.

Keep in mind, just the evening before I posted about finally being whole, finally being known, finally being me - as I am, all of me. And now, I felt deeply connected with this gay pastor and the experience of thousands of gay and lesbians across this country. For the first time in my life, I experienced a personal offense of being persecuted for being the person I am. For the first time in my life, I felt empathy for what it must have felt like to be told to sit at the back of the bus and to be told to use a separate restroom so as to not contaminate those who are clean. For the first time in my life, I truly felt a personal injustice. Granted I have had mild experiences with racial discrimination, but nothing this close to where my heart was attached and it was being beaten with a baseball bat.

And so I cried on the way home from that meeting last Thursday. I weeped. I was filled with images of rejection and hatred towards me - people like me. It was personal. And all I could think of was all of the things - the wonderful things - that I was witnessing God do in my life. And these people would refuse to hear any of it - because I am gay. Their concern was whether or not some people may be offended if they knew what kind of a location the event was held at. They neglect the reality that in raising such a concern, they had already offended me. Profoundly. Yet, that was somehow, acceptable.

Is this acceptable? Is it acceptable to deny justice for one group of people for the sake of offering comfort to another group? Is it acceptable to casually lie about true discriminatory motives and to sweep the issue under the rug? Is it acceptable to host an event designed for identifying hope and life in a city while divisively and disgustingly disassociating from the Christian lepers?

My heart aches. My heart is aching. And I weep over the reality of a society too huge for me to change.

What is God weeping over?