Date: Wed, 5 Apr 95 17:36:01 EDT From: "James D. Anderson" MORE LIGHT UPDATE September 1993 Presbyterians for Lesbian & Gay Concerns James D. Anderson, Communications Secretary P.O. 38 New Brunswick, NJ 08903-0038 908/249-1016, 908/932-7501 (Rutgers University) FAX 908/932-6916 (Rutgers University) Internet: janderson@zodiac.rutgers.edu Note: * is used to indicate italicized or boldface text. CHANGES Michael Purintun's address has changed to: 3834 Northwestern Pkwy., Louisville, KY 40212. Michael is a member of the PLGC Executive Board and coordinates "PLGC Postings," our positions referral service. Doug Calderwood has moved to the Albuquerque area of New Mexico. His new address is: P.O. Box 57, Cedar Crest, NM 87008-0057. Doug is a member of the PLGC Executive Board, and now he's a neighbor of our treasurer Richard Koteras, who is also in Cedar Crest, New Mexico. CONTENTS Revolutionary Kisses Texts: 1 Corinthians 13 & Matthew 28:18-20. Lisa Larges' sermon for the PLGC worship service, 205th General Assembly, Orlando Florida, June 6, 1993 More on General Assembly No Ordination -- But Please Don't Leave the Church Holy Unions Still OK Do As We Say, Not As We Do : Resolution on Civil Rights in Colorado Lift the Military Ban But Similar Discrimination in Church Youth Programs Is Just Fine and Dandy My Experience: General Assembly and Beyond, by Katie Morrison Has This Church No Shame? by the Rev. Michael D. Smith & Sylvia Thorson-Smith Rochester Church Firm in Its Resolve A Family Matter, by Chris Glaser Database of Judicial Cases Planned * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Revolutionary Kisses Texts: 1 Corinthians 13 & Matthew 28:18-20. Lisa Larges' sermon for the PLGC worship service, 205th General Assembly, Orlando Florida, June 6, 1993 Note: My problem with language lately has been that of figuring out how to say, "gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender people, and their straight allies," without running out of breath. I've taken to using the phrase "lavender people," which I believe I've stolen from Judy Grahn. Even so, I know it's not a perfect solution, since there are important distinctions between our various identities, and sometimes it is necessary to name these distinctions. So I proudly maintain the right to be internally inconsistent. [Lisa began her sermon by holding up a photograph from her high school prom!] This is me and John at Prom. (I'm the one in the dress.) John and I dated in high school; John's gay (of course) -- about as gay as I'm lesbian -- but such facts hadn't yet bubbled up to the surface. After high school, John and I went our separate ways, though we've remained good friends. So it happened one summer's evening when I was home from college, John and I met for dinner and, well, you know, John came out to me, and I came out to him, and we laughed and we laughed. -- Later on we marched over to his mother's house and announced to her that I was a lesbian, and she was delighted. That night, John told me that he had fallen in love with Kleid. (They're still together ten years later.) He told me all about Kleid, and after we were all through laughing and dishing, John said, "Lis, there's something more I need to say." He said, "Lis, the other night, Kleid kissed me. I mean, he didn't just kiss me -- he kissed my face. He kissed my mouth, my nose, he kissed my eyes, my cheeks, he kissed my hair. And there was something so tender in the way he kissed me, that I couldn't bear it. I had to leave the room. I got up, and I went out, and I sat in the living room by myself in the dark, and I cried -- I cried like a baby. No one had ever loved me like that before -- I had never let anyone ever love me like that before." Coming out is a revolutionary act. It changes the world. For gay and lesbian people in our culture, coming out can be, and most times is, extraordinarily painful. Sometimes it costs too much. Even so, I imagine that many of you know, as I do, that point in your own coming out story when you were, as well, confronted by that almost unbearable love of God. Maybe it was when she kissed you; -- maybe it was when he held you; -- maybe it was on a particular afternoon when you were sitting alone in your office; -- or maybe it was in the middle of a particular night when you were lying awake in the glow of the clock radio when you suddenly knew, in the core of your being, that your emancipation had begun. At the end of Ntozake Shange's play "For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide, When the Rainbow Isn't Enough," there is a line: "I found God in me, and I loved her fiercely! And I loved her fiercely!" That's coming out. Coming out is a revolutionary act. Anita Bryant said, "Orange juice isn't just for breakfast any more." I say: "Coming out isn't just for gay people any more!" Nothing moves me more deeply than standing with the many, many straight people here, who have risked so much for this cause of justice in the Church. I can't know what inner conviction has brought you here, but I suspect that you must have your own coming out story. You, as well, must have been confronted by that almost unbearable love of God. You, as well, must have tasted the sweetness of your own emancipation. It is that fierce love, that almost unbearable tenderness, that burning memory of revolution, that brings us together here as a great coalition of lavender people. The task that brings us to this assembly is only in a small way related to the "issue" of equal access to ordination. Certainly, it is essential to the "peace, unity, and purity of the Church" that we as a denomination repent of this systematic oppression and persecution of lavender people, and reclaim the tenet of our Reformed Tradition which declares that all who seek to join this faith community shall, as called, have a share in its ministry and leadership. For the good of the Church, it is necessary that we not compromise on this point. Even so, I say that the "issue" of ordination is but a small part of what we're about here, because the work ahead of us is more proactive than this. Indeed, it is the work of calling the Church to embrace an embodied theology. Too often, we have heard the shrill warning that if we "pander to the homosexuals" then that great multitude of bread-and-butter Presbyterians will beat a path "straight" out the narthex door. But as a self-avowed, practicing, nonrepentant homosexual, I'm here to declare that the exodus has already begun, it's been going on for some time now, and it's not my fault! If we are to assess blame, then I believe the fault lies with our failure as a denomination to address those who come as whole persons. The diagnosis of the most recent human sexuality report is that we have inadequately promoted a theology which "keeps body and soul together." As a faith community, we must reaffirm the connection between our head and our heart, and the inseparability of our spiritual and physical lives. People are yearning simply to have acknowledged that the cognitive dissonance in their heads is related to the tension in their shoulders, and the tightness in their stomachs is linked to the conflict in their soul. (OOOPS, that was a plug for massage.*) To put it in the positive, people are yearning to have acknowledged what they've experienced as true: that what they know of God is something they feel in their chests, in their gut, in the atoms of their cells. People are yearning to have acknowledged what they've already discovered; that sexuality is sacred, and that our spirituality and our physicality are deeply intertwined. The trouble with self-avowed, practicing, nonrepentant homosexuals is that they insist on being addressed as whole persons; and if it can happen for them -- then sooner or later, those self-avowed, practicing and nonrepentant heterosexuals are going to start demanding the same thing! [Footnote: *Lisa works as a massage therapist! -- JDA] This work of calling the church to affirm an embodied spirituality is crucial, indeed the life and well-being of the church depends on it. But, as with the ordination question, this too is not yet at the heart of the prophetic mission that brings us together here. Again, beginning at least with the '91 human sexuality report, we have named the center of this prophetic work as that of challenging the church to reclaim the Biblical link between love and justice. In his key-note address to this year's More Light conference, Robert MacAfee Brown noted that in Biblical parlance, love and justice are always connected. By this standard it is astonishing to regard the way in which our culture has driven a wedge between them. I know a woman in San Francisco; she has a six-year-old son, and she's a single mother. If you met this woman, the first thing you'd know about her is how much she loves her son. Two weeks ago, child protective services put her son in a foster home. For this woman, the terrible burden of her past, and all the pressures of her life, conspire to drive her to rage. In that rage she does what she vowed she would never do -- she hits this small child whom she adores above all else. No one could deny that this woman loves her son. There is love there, but there is no justice. Her story is played out all the time, in all kinds of families, in all kinds of relationships -- we know this too well. Love without justice is violence. The hastily put together compromise known as "definitive guidance" is certainly a study in contradiction, if not obfuscation. It counsels that inasmuch as nonrepentant homosexual practice is a sin, self-affirmed homosexuals should not serve in the offices of the church as it would demean the peace, unity, and purity (what Ralph Carter and others have called "the pup") of the church. Yet the document also offers as "definitive guidance" to all Presbyterian churches that they ought to work to protect the civil rights of gays and lesbians, welcome homosexuals into their congregations, and strive to eradicate homophobia. Then, as now, we as a denomination cling to the false hope that we might offer love, without justice. Love without justice is violence. Love without justice is violence. We want love without justice, and we want justice without love. As a culture, we have bought into the notion of justice as dispassionate. A week ago, in this city, there was a trial that garnered a lot of press. As you know in that trial, William Lezano, a police officer from Miami, was acquitted of a manslaughter charge in the death of an African-American man whom Lezano had shot while on duty in Miami's Overtown neighborhood. Certainly, that trial, like the trial of the four police officers in L.A., merits some attention. But it is far more important that our attention be drawn to the injustices perpetrated everyday in Overtown and in South Central L.A. It is far more important that justice be done in these communities, to vindicate the crimes of poverty and neglect committed in the name of racism. It is far more important that we learn to claim a kind of justice which enhances life rather than one which simply metes out punishment. This kind of justice is passionate justice, justice made fierce by love. As we turn to what Paul has to say about love and justice (I was wondering when I'd get around to Scripture) there are a few things we ought to consider concerning this too familiar text from 1st Corintians. First, it is worth remembering that Paul didn't pen this ode to love because there wasn't yet a suitable text in the cannon for heterosexuals to read at their wedding services. What Paul had in mind as he wrote was not a couple, but a community -- a community struggling with issues of identity, a community struggling to balance growth and security, and a community struggling with questions of whom to include, and whom to leave out. Sounds a bit too familiar, doesn't it? Second, it must be said that any feminist worth his or her salt, would immediately recognize this text as a sure-fire recipe for co-dependency. "Love hopes all things, bears all things, believes all things, endures all things . . . ." Hey Paul, I don't think so! Don't tell a woman, battered by her spouse, "Love bears all things." Don't tell a gay man, rejected by his family: "Love endures all things." Don't tell the folk in south central L.A., or Miami's Overtown, betrayed by their government: "Love hopes all things." Don't tell a community brutalized by the dogma of the Church: "Love believes all things." In a culture where love is split off from justice, a text like this becomes an agent of violence. But finally, it has to be said about Paul that he was always a good Jew. In his bones he knew the Torah and the words of the prophets. Paul never said "love", without meaning within it: "justice." If we are to continue to endure, to struggle to believe, and even to hope, then we must turn to that place within ourselves where love and justice, in the words of the Psalmist, kiss each other. This work of calling the church to reunite love and justice is most central because after all, we are talking about nothing less than grace. By the most orthodox understanding, grace is the meeting place between God's fierce love, and God's passionate justice. For the church, Paul is the theologian of grace, and he is so because he never let go of the Hebrew union of love and justice. For Paul, and for us, this love, this justice, this grace of God were embodied for us in the person of the Christ. At the outset I said that coming out was a revolutionary act. Certainly, coming out has to do with that internal, spiritual revolution of coming to trust that the love we know in our whole being is a sacred gift from God. Understanding this leads us to know that this love demands justice. When that love is silenced, or buried, or treated as a psychological, or spiritual dysfunction, then that love is dishonored with injustice. By our particular experience, we as lavender people have a responsibility to the church to name what we know of the union of God's fierce love and God's passionate justice. At the end of Matthew's Gospel, Jesus gathers with his disciples one last time. In the short time he has been with them he has embodied grace for them. Now he hands over that work of embodying grace to those disciples, and to us. There at the end of Matthew, Jesus quotes Janie Spahr and says to his disciples, and to us: "Just go out there, and do it!" * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * More on General Assembly No Ordination -- But Please Don't Leave the Church *Many Presbyterians would love to get rid of us lesbian, gay, bisexual folks all together, but the General Assembly rejected this suggestion in an overture from the Presbytery of San Joaquin by adopting the following response from the Committee on Human Sexuality.* **Overture 92-32. Regarding the Unacceptability of Practicing Homosexuality within the Leadership of the Church -- From the Presbytery of San Joaquin.** [This overture, held over from last year's General Assembly, also asked lesbian and gay Presbyterians to leave the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and join some other denomination.] The representative committee on human sexuality recommends that Overture 93-32 not be adopted, with comments: 1. The overture from the Presbytery of San Joaquin, both in tone and in content, is not compatible with current church policy, and does not affirm the "visible oneness" (Book of Order G-4.0203) of the church of Jesus Christ. 2. This overture stands in complete opposition to current church policy calling for hospitality toward homosexual persons. Homosexual persons are to be welcomed as members of all congregations in the PC(USA). In 1978, the UPCUSA assembly concluded that "there can be no place within the Christian faith for the response to homosexual persons of mingled contempt, hatred, and fear that is called homophobia," and "the church must turn from its fear and hatred to move toward the homosexual community in love and to welcome homosexual inquirers to its congregations. [H]omosexual persons . . . should not be excluded from membership." (Minutes, UPCUSA, 1978, Part I, p. 263). In 1979, the PCUS adopted similar language with regard to homosexuality and church membership. (See Minutes, PCUS, 1979, Part I, p. 1028). Subsequent assemblies have reaffirmed these statements regarding the welcome of homosexual persons into church membership. (Committee Vote: 35/0/0) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Holy Unions Still OK Two overtures, held over from the 1992 Assembly, asked that the constitution be amended to "Prohibit Ministers of the Word and Sacrament from Participating in Same-Sex Union Ceremonies" -- From the Presbytery of Shenango [the wording of the similar overture from the Presbytery of Northumberland was slightly different]. By a yes vote of 84.1%, the Assembly accepted the recommendation of the Committee on Worship and Sacraments (and of the Advisory Committee on the Constitution) "That the overture not be adopted, with comment" [which follows]: The Advisory Committee on the Constitution has previously spoken on this. We refer to the action of the 203rd General Assembly (1991) regarding the Book of Order and same sex unions: There is no mention in the Book of Order of same sex unions (ceremonies). If a same sex ceremony were considered to be the equivalent of a marriage ceremony between two persons of the same sex, it would not be sanctioned under the Book of Order. In section W-4.9001, Christian marriage is specifically defined as: [A] covenant through which *a man and a women* are called to live out together before God their lives of discipleship. In a service of Christian marriage[,] a life-long commitment is made by *a woman and a man* to each other, publicly witnessed and acknowledged by the community of faith. (Emphasis added by the Advisory Committee on the Constitution.) Inasmuch as the session is responsible and accountable for determination of the appropriate use of the church buildings and facilities (G-10.0102n), it should not allow the use of the church facilities for a same sex union ceremony that the session determines to be the same as a marriage ceremony. Likewise, since a Christian marriage performed in accordance with the Directory for Worship can only involve a covenant between a woman and a man, it would not be proper for a minister of the Word and Sacrament to perform a same sex union ceremony that the minister determines to be the same as a marriage ceremony. (Minutes, (1991), Part I, p. 395) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Do As We Say, Not As We Do As the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) embraces a policy of apartheid, constructing special discriminatory barriers for lesbians, gays and bisexuals in order to exclude them from all church offices, the church is pleased to tell other folks not to act in such an un-Christian manner. Here is the resolution the Assembly adopted condemning the State of Colorado for its "discriminatory legislation": Whereas, in 1977, the Presbyterian Church in the United States General Assembly expressed "the need for the Church to stand for just treatment of homosexual persons in our society in regard to their civil liberties, equal rights, and protection under the law from . . . discrimination. . . ." (PCUS, 1977, p. 174); and Whereas, in 1978, the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America declared that "there is no legal, social, or moral justification for denying homosexual persons access to the basic requirements of social existence" (UPCUSA, 1978, p.264); and Whereas, in 1987, the General Assembly called for the "the elimination . . . of laws governing the private sexual behavior between consenting adults [and the passage] of laws forbidding discrimination based on sexual orientation in employment, housing, and public accommodations. . . ." (PCUSA, 1987, p. 776); and Whereas, current church policy clearly states that as Presbyterians, we are to stand for just treatment of homosexual persons, including working toward protection under the law from discrimination; and Whereas, the state of Colorado passed a state constitutional amendment on November 3, 1992, which abrogates all laws that protect people against discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation; and Whereas, this incident is the first time ever a state constitution has been amended to prevent antidiscrimination laws protecting a particular class of people; and Whereas, political action groups in various states are using the successful passage of Amendment 2 in Colorado as a model for discriminatory laws, therefore, be it Resolved, That the 205th General Assembly (1993) unequivocally condemns all discriminatory legislation, such as is exemplified by Article 2, Section 30 (Amendment 2) of the Colorado Constitution, and calls for the repeal of Amendment 2 of the Colorado Constitution. The 205th General Assembly (1993) further instructs the Stated Clerk to communicate with presbytery and synod councils, requesting them to notify the office of the Stated Clerk of proposed or pending legislation in their states or communities regarding similar discriminatory measures, so that the Stated Clerk may communicate with state or local officials informing them of the official Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) policy. (Committee Vote: 27/7/0) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Lift the Military Ban In a similar spirit, the Assembly told the U.S. Military to lift the ban on lesbian and gay folks in the military. Here is that resolution: **Commissioners' Resolution 93-31. On Affirming Our Commitment to End Discrimination Based on Sexual Orientation and on Urging the U.S. Military to Do Likewise.** Whereas, the 190th General Assembly (1978) of the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. declared: "The Christian community can neither condone nor participate in the widespread contempt for homosexual persons that prevails in our general culture. Indeed, beyond this, it must do everything in its power to prevent society from continuing to hate, harass, and oppress them" (*The Church and Homosexuality*, pp. 60-61); and Whereas, the 190th General Assembly (1978) also urged Presbyterians to work for the passage of laws that protect the civil rights of lesbian and gay persons by banning discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation; therefore, be it Resolved, that the 205th General Assembly (1993) of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) 1. commend our Stated Clerk, the Reverend James E. Andrews, for joining with other national religious leaders in urging an end to discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation in the U.S. Military, saying: "Refusal to induct a person into the military, or the discharge of a person, solely on the basis of sexual orientation, is intolerable. Such government sanctioned action by military leaders has only served to legitimate and encourage other acts of discrimination against gay and lesbian persons in our society, which, at times, have led to harassment, violence, even death. Protection of the rights of gay and lesbian persons in the military becomes, therefore, an important act of justice in its own right, as well as a symbolic statement of our nation's commitment to liberty and justice for all" (*More Light Update* (April 1993): 14, Andrews, James E. Letter to President Clinton as quoted in *The News*, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), (8 January 1993)); and 2. direct our Stated Clerk to urge President William J. Clinton and the Congress of the United States to move to end all discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation in the U. S. Military and that letters to this effect be sent to President Clinton, the Secretary of Defense, and to all members of the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives. (Committee Vote: 19/10/4) [Editors addendum: It is ironic, and sad, that the so-called "don't ask, don't tell" policy, designed to force lesbian, gay, and bisexual folks in the military to lie and stay in the closet, is exactly the policy of the frightened and homophobic Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). In the church, it is the source of the phrase, "self-affirming, practicing homosexual." As in the military, our church tells us, "if those damned faggots would just stay in the closet, then they may continue to serve -- its just the 'self-affirming' that we cannot abide." (By the way, it is only the courts and governing bodies of the church that damn us, not God, nor Jesus, nor the Bible, and in so doing, the courts and governing bodies of the church damn themselves, creating a "scandal to the Gospel" -- see Book of Order G- 5.0103!) -- JDA] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * But Similar Discrimination in Church Youth Programs Is Just Fine and Dandy *While condemning discrimination in Colorado and the military, the Assembly refused even to ask congregations just to examine policies that exclude gay boys and gay and lesbian leaders from Boy Scout programs that are chartered to Presbyterian congregations and that form a part of congregational youth programs. Here is the commissioner's resolution that they rejected:* **Commissioner Resolution on Congregational Programming for Boys and Young Men (original title).** The Office of the General Assembly changed it to: **"On Examining the Current Boy Scouts of America Policy that Precludes Homosexual Youth and Homosexual Leaders from Participation in Scouting Programs."** Whereas, local units of the organization known as the Boy Scouts of America are frequently sponsored by congregations of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.); and Whereas, membership in the Boy Scouts of America is open to all boys of every race, ethnicity, economic status, or educational background; and Whereas, the Boy Scouts of America has provided since 1908 a character-building program with commitment to a purpose and rules established by its founders; and Whereas, the 190th General Assembly (1978) of the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. declared: "The Christian community can neither condone nor participate in the widespread contempt for homosexual persons that prevails in our general culture. Indeed, beyond this, it must do everything in its power to prevent society from continuing to hate, harass, and oppress them . . . . There is no legal, social, or moral justification for denying homosexual persons access to the basic requirements of human social existence"; and Whereas, the Boy Scouts of America prohibits gay boys and men from participating in its programs, and expels them when their sexual orientation is discovered, regardless of their records of service to the organization and to society; and Whereas, this discriminatory practice prevents the session of a congregation from opening its scout program to all boys, and may negate its decision to appoint or approve the appointment of qualified leaders for its scout programs; therefore, be it Resolved, that the 205th General Assembly (1993) of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) urge sessions of congregations that are chartered by the Boy Scouts of America to operate one or more Cub Scout packs, Scout troops, Explorer posts, or other Scout units as a part of their youth programs to examine carefully the present Boy Scouts of America policy that precludes the congregation from including gay youth as members of its Scout program and prohibits the session from appointing or approving qualified gay or lesbian people for leadership positions in its Scout program. Sessions are advised to declare to the local Scout council that the session will exercise its own moral judgment on whom it appoints or approves as leaders for its Scout program and that its Scout program is open to all youth without discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * My Experience: General Assembly and Beyond by Katie Morrison Prelude The following is a transcript of a talk I gave as part of a panel I participated on (at Pasadena Presbyterian Church in California were I am a member) with Dean Thompson, Jack Rogers, and Evelyn Thomas. The purpose of the panel was to report to the congregation what went on at General Assembly. Although rather intimidated by the implications, I was glad to have the opportunity to share about the week and a half I experienced in Orlando, bringing the perspective of this angry, frustrated, tired, but now hopeful "Lavender Person" and a voice to events which took place that the others were not going to address. Now I know that when I say "hopeful", there are a bunch out there who will instantly feel sorry for me, recognizing their own past hopes which have over and over resulted in pain and disappointment. But, hey, I'm the kid in the group so I wouldn't want to let anyone down by not fulfilling my job as a youth to shed hope for the future. I came home just as tired, beat-up, frustrated, and mad at my church as many other gay/les/bi/and friends were -- but I couldn't allow myself to go into hibernation for the summer. No, I had to put my big, justice- loving mouth to work and 'come-out' one more time. (Doing this to the entire General Assembly floor of a 1000-plus people just wasn't enough!!) On Sunday morning, having been back from Orlando for two days, I delivered the following to a group of nearly 100 folks of whom many have known and nurtured me since baptism. It was quite a scary experience. Not because I was at all unsure about what I was saying, no, I was very clear about that (the Spirit *was* present), but because I was unsure about what the response was going to be -- and of course it's a big step to come-out as a lesbian woman to a congregation that you want to come under care of in a couple of years. But with decency and order, I shared with them the following: My Presentation It's been a long time since I've seen you and a long time since you've seen me, but it is great to be back here at my home church and I appreciate the opportunity to share with you about my experience. Attending this General Assembly in Orlando, Florida was my second opportunity as a youth in the church to be able to be a part of this amazing Presbyterian process which takes place each year. Last year was quite a different experience. I was sent to Milwaukee through the National Network of College Presbyterian Women, which I am a part of, and was recently voted to be co-moderator of its coordinating committee. My involvement on the Network sent me as representative of the coordinating committee to speak with the Youth Advisory Delegates (YADS) about the group, and it gave me the opportunity to observe -- observe how our church functions as a body and to observe the great number of people who come each year from all over the United States, bringing so many different cultural backgrounds and viewpoints, but all coming together with the same interest in participating in this church which we call our Presbyterian family. I took in a lot last year, I met and talked with many and I observed and learned. My opportunity to go to Orlando this year came from a personal desire to be there. For my 21st Birthday, I asked my parents to help send me financially to the church's 205th General Assembly. (Pretty demented kid, huh? -- She wants to go to a church meeting!) But through their understanding and support, I was able to go. I wasn't just an observer, though. I was a participant. To be able to share fully about my experience this past week and a half requires a bit of background about me and how this church has continued to be an incredibly important part of my life and how I hope it to be equally important in my future. As you may know, this year at General Assembly there was continued talk and action surrounding the church's stance on the ordination of "un-repentant, self-affirming, practicing homosexuals" -- known as Definitive Guidance. Well, I am a happy, un-repentant, self-affirming, practicing Presbyterian. And I was born that way -- Presbyterian. I also happen to be lesbian. What does that mean? To me, when I am in a relationship with someone, I share with them on a deep spiritual, emotional, and physical level that is honest and committed -- and this person also happens to be of the same sex. It's real normal and natural -- to me, at least. I totally affirm and accept this as me -- part and all of who I am -- and as being a gift from God. Now I'm pretty darn vulnerable standing here sharing that with you. It's personal stuff and it's not easy -- but it is important because in the church's discussing, debating, and dialoguing, it is discussing, debating and dialoguing about me. I also share with you that I feel and have felt for a while a strong undeniable calling to the ministry. When I graduate in a year from college, I plan on going to seminary and then, well, I hope to be eventually ordained. I hope this church can continue to be an active part of this process as it has played an active role in my entire life thus far. I want this church to know me and love me as the person they baptized -- when my cool parents and a neat congregation promised to nurture me in my growth. I want you to know me as the same kid who went through the confirmation process here -- where I learned more about the church and was able to formally claim a spiritual commitment and full membership in the church. I want you to know me as the person you sent to Triennium -- where I learned about bringing our gifts to the church -- and on Mission Trips and to Sr. High meetings and events -- where I learned about gifts from God and participating in the church. I'm that same person some of you watched Sunday after Sunday sing in the choir, read the Scripture lesson, participate in musicals, and carry that darn, cumbersome banner. I am that same person who was lucky to have such a wonderful, rich, youth experience in the church. It's just that some people might choose to see me differently now because I've chosen to be honest and open about ALL of me. At least this is where our church as a whole is right now under the statement of Definitive Guidance. The General Assembly has approved the Representative Committee on Human Sexuality's recommendation to conduct a three year church- wide study and dialogue on issues surrounding homosexuality and the right to ordination of gay/lesbian/bisexual persons. Lin Team, the chairperson of the committee, addressed the Assembly, stating, "We urge you to lead the church in examining this issue . . ., listening as we've never listened before, speaking as we've never spoken before so that, together, we can uphold the church as a model of reconciliation in a divided world." The church has called for study. This is no new thing. The church called for study in 1978, 1979, and 1991. It is my prayer that in these three years, the church proves that this decision is not a delaying tactic as many fear. In the meantime, it asks a lot of people once again to put their calls on hold -- their future careers -- while others study their worthiness to minister in the church. That's important to be aware of. I do hope that true dialogue can and does take place, dialogue that includes gay, lesbian, and bisexual people and creates a covenant for a "protective climate". While at General Assembly, I participated by being a voice for what I am -- a young adult who loves and cares about this church. I testified to the Committee On Human Sexuality -- sharing with them who I am -- putting a face on the ISSUE. I shared with them about my concern for the lesbian and gay youth who have taken their lives -- choosing death in various forms rather than life -- because their lives, they are told, are NOT worthy of being celebrated. 33% of teen suicide is related to issues of sexual orientation. I said to this committee, "I am standing before you as a youth in the church -- someone who's story is NOT over yet. What message will you decide to give to me and to the youth of OUR church?" The response was, "Let me get back to you in three years." I also spoke with the Youth Advisory Delegates, talking about what it's like to be in a church that baptizes you, confirms you, accepts you as a member, tells you it loves you, but at the same time bars you from positions of ordained leadership. Something doesn't quite make sense there. The church says to our young people, "You can be graduated from seminary, you may devote your life to the church, but, by the way, you can never pastor a church, even if God is calling you to the ministry." This is second class membership. The church's acceptance of gays while continuing to support the 1978 Definitive Guidance is, in the words of my friend Lisa Larges, "Love without Justice". It is so clear that God calls people of all sexual orientations to the ministry, yet the Bible is being used once again as a means of justifying exclusion. I affirm that who I am as a lesbian woman stands within the authority of Scripture when study and reflection of it is free from our imposed biases. Just as Scripture has been abused in order to justify the enslavement of one people by another, just as scripture has been used in order to relegate women to second class status, so in our time scripture is mis-used in order to fuel our fear and discomfort toward gay and lesbian people. To me this is a clear issue of justice. I also participated by addressing the Assembly floor when David Dobler, the newly elected Moderator, took a moment of personal privilege that "we might act as a family of Christ" and allow gay and lesbian persons to have a voice. As a group of 100 gay, lesbian, bisexual people, parents, friends, and supporters, we gathered on the stage facing the commissioners and for twelve minutes, one by one, thirty of us approached the microphone and identified ourselves -- who we were and what gifts we bring to the church. This was followed by a standing ovation from almost the entire floor. The Presbyterian Church (USA) as a whole has put aside the gifts and failed to affirm people with calls to the ministry for many generations solely on the basis of sexual orientation. I hope that honest, INCLUSIVE, open dialogue will bring the church to a point where it better understands homosexuality and, in the words of my friend the Rev. Howard Warren, "embraces homosexuality as a part of the beautiful rainbow of human sexual orientations which come to us all as a gift from God." Post Script As I stated before, I had no clue how folks were going to respond, but what took place, I think, is worth sharing with those whose last ounces of hope were sucked away in Orlando. It was pure grace. Immediately after I finished, this one woman who is kind'a the mother to the church got up, went right to me, gave me a great big hug and then said into the microphone, "You know what I have to say?, YES! YEA KATIE". Then Dean, the Sr. pastor, followed with his five minutes worth. He didn't at this point share with the group where it is that he stands on the "issue" as it wouldn't have probably been a good idea. He made no response to me. As he concluded, Jack Rogers got up and asked for comments. Right away this woman whom I didn't even really recognize started blurting out of nowhere, "I have always been proud to be a member of Pasadena Presbyterian Church, but never so proud as I am today -- especially because of that girl Katie and what she had to say." And then she looked right into my face; a tear fell from her eye. Then Joycene Gallaher (the "mother to the church" whose son, Joel, died of cancer at age 24 a couple of years ago), stood up and said, "You know, when Joel was dying, he said to me, 'stay with me to the end.' He also said this to the church and the church did stay with him through the end. It is as if Katie here is saying this to us: 'Stay with me'. She is inviting the church to continue to be a part of her life. I hope you all will join me in saying 'Yes' to her." And then another old man, sitting in the front row who is partially deaf blurts out in a booming voice: "You are the first avowed lesbian I've ever met and I thank God for it, but can I get a transcript of what you said so that I can really hear it!?!" (I think I got a glimpse of what being a Lesbian Evangelist must be like!) And another thanked me for my courage and another asked if what I said could be put in a form that can be used as a resource for our church's newly formed task force on homosexuality. The environment was amazing, and it was nothing I could have predicted. Folks also came up and hugged me and said that they would stand by me. Cool stuff. One person said to me after the worship service that I had reminded them of what church is really all about. Well, I have to say, that through it all, my church reminded ME of what church is all about as well. After the sad feeling I had towards the Church as a whole after observing its actions in Orlando, I had almost forgotten why this place and the Presbyterian Church means so much to me and then I was reminded. The seed has been planted there, and in me, and I hope we're able to grow together. The hope lies in the response. And last Sunday at my church in Pasadena, there was great hope in that immediate outwardly embracing response. I am aware of the fact that there was a silent minority that didn't speak with me. I'm sure I'll hear from them soon enough about how wrong I am. But one thing at least that they were made aware of was that I think they assumed their views to be in the majority and maybe they aren't necessarily. Time will tell. Now I know I'd probably be deceiving myself if I assumed that Presbyterian churches all over the United States had a G.A. report that was truly representative of what the week was like for someone who identifies as a "Lavender Person" (to follow Lisa Larges's suggestion for an easy, inclusive label), or even that churches all over the U.S. have implemented plans to actually do a serious study on homosexuality and the church's stance on ordination, but at least one more congregation has heard our cries for justice and has decided to reply. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Has This Church No Shame? by the Rev. Michael D. Smith & Sylvia Thorson-Smith In the coming months, there will undoubtedly be much commentary on actions at General Assembly in Orlando related to the status of gays and lesbians in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Since we were participants in the demonstration at the conclusion of the Assembly's action on these issues, we believe it is important that the whole church not be left to the mercy of *The Presbyterian Layman* for interpretation of what happened. For three long days we sat in the observer section and listened as the Assembly's committee on human sexuality considered overtures related to the ordination of gays and lesbians. At the beginning of its process, the committee heard moving testimony from gays and lesbians who experience hostility, exclusion, and fear as a result of the current policy that renders them second- class members of their church. Later, the entire Assembly saw over 100 gays and lesbians and their family members gather on the platform while about 30 of them "came out" -- risking to speak their names and offer their gifts to the church. Well over half of the commissioners stood and applauded when the statements ended. But whatever was felt in that supportive ovation did not subsequently affect the Assembly's decisions. One more time, gays and lesbians had to listen as heterosexuals reasserted their privilege and held fast to their right to withhold ordination from those who would assert their claim to Christ's call. Over and over they had to listen to the speeches about pain and confusion and conflict in the church (as if those who suffer the pain of unjust policies are responsible for the tensions produced by resistance to change). They had to listen to expressions of concern that gays and lesbians lack safe space in which to risk revealing their identities in order to participate in church dialogue, but then watch while commissioners defeated motions to insure protection. They had to listen to sympathetic acknowledgment of their stories of rejection and betrayal, but sympathy didn't translate into votes for change. Not only did the church door to ordination remain shut to them, it was bolted with words like "authoritative interpretation" of the Constitution. Yet just as the General Assembly bolted the door with one hand, it extended the other hand with a three-year study. O that a three-year study would unbolt this door and open the heart of this church! With chants and singing, the pain and anger felt by those who suffer the effects of this policy were given voice in a protest at the end of a long evening of deliberation: "How long, O church, how long?" "Love without justice is no love at all." "We are a gentle, angry people and we are singing for our lives." "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so." "We are your children -- how can you do this to us?" "My straight brothers and sisters, this is abuse -- it must be seen for what it is, and stopped." During the following two days of the Assembly there was much discussion about the demonstration and its impact -- whether it would have a positive or negative influence. Some people were angry at the protesters and thought their cause was ill-served. Have we forgotten the prophetic tradition of the Bible? Gays and lesbians are crying out with the passion of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos and Micah: "Hear this word: loose the bonds of injustice, break every yoke. God takes no delight in your solemn assemblies, but let justice roll down like waters." Contemporary voices cry in the wilderness of Presbyterian assemblies and are met with confusion, resentment, and benign sympathy. We need to recognize that anger at those who protest injustice is a classic response of "blaming the victim" instead of the people and institutions that perpetuate oppression. Has this church no shame? For too long, solemn assemblies of white Presbyterians deliberated the humanity and status of African-Americans. For too long, solemn assemblies of male Presbyterians deliberated the humanity and status of women. How long can heterosexuals continue to speak with unabashed, self- righteous arrogance about gays and lesbians and inflict inequalities on them? At the closing communion service of General Assembly, participants all stood and professed their faith in the words of the recently-adopted Brief Statement. We looked around at the gathering, we looked at each other and we wondered: How can people not choke on those words -- "The Spirit gives us courage . . . to unmask idolatries of church and culture, to hear the voices of peoples long silenced, and to work with others for justice, freedom and peace"? Is not the Spirit saying to us -- "Those who have ears to hear, let them hear"? In her sermon during that closing communion service, Sara B. Moseley recalled the lament of the Jewish people in exile: "How can we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" She then noted that it's hard to sing the Lord's song in a strange land of divisive issues where some win and some lose. We would agree -- but she didn't go far enough. God's song doesn't have winners and losers. God's song is a win-win for all people. It's a song that all are invited to sing and God welcomes all voices who would sing it to be members of the chorus. There will continue to be dissent to the way Presbyterians sing God's song until gays and lesbians are fully included in the singing. Their voices add a rich harmony and will be silenced no longer. It is time for the church to respond with repentance and a change of heart and will. Justice issues do not go away until they are met with just resolution. Those who seek peace and unity in the church must be about the work of justice, because this church will not be one until all are one in status. The protest at General Assembly included a spontaneous addition to the verses of one song: "We are an over-studied people, and we are singing for our lives." For 15 years the Presbyterian Church has been urged to dialogue with gays and lesbians and eradicate the homophobia that controls our attitudes and decisions. One more time Presbyterians are now encouraged by a General Assembly to be about the task of study. This time, may we engage in it with all of our energy and commitment, for our life as a church depends on it. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Rochester Church Firm in Its Resolve Rochester, New York, July 11, 1993. -- Eighteen months after calling the Reverend Jane Adams Spahr to be their co-pastor, members of the Downtown United Presbyterian Church are still facing a staff vacancy. Twice the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA) has blocked the call because Spahr is openly lesbian. Calling for three more years of study, the June General Assembly hoped to appease this persistent congregation and keep the denomination from splitting apart. But they underestimated the resolve of this church with roots grounded in a history of fighting for justice. The members of this Rochester congregation are angry and determined. A small air conditioner couldn't compete with the heat generated by church members as they gathered after Sunday worship to discuss feelings and visions. In circles of ten they spoke honestly with each other. The lighting in the room was dimmed to create the illusion of cooler temperatures. To be sure, there was diversity of opinions. Some expressed frustration with having an unfilled staff vacancy. "We can still continue to work for change within the denomination, but let's form a new committee and find a pastor. We have important work to do and our other pastors are being overtaxed." But other voices favored keeping the position unfilled. "Calling another pastor would send the wrong signal to the denomination. It would indicate that we have given in to this injustice." Some members spoke in terms of installing Janie regardless of the General Assembly's disapproval. Others called for the development of proactive educational programs to promote throughout the denomination. Regardless of opinion no one threatened to leave and no one was asked to leave. There was room in the circle for every voice. No votes were taken after the two hours of discussion. Janie hopes to return to Rochester in late August to continue the dialogue. Until then she will travel the country as a "lesbian Evangelist", sowing love and hope where there is hatred and despair. One thing is as certain as the red brick structure which houses this family of God. This congregation is strong for justice. Their love for Janie and Coni cannot be shaken. But most importantly they cannot resist God who is working wonders through them. -- Chuck Collins * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * A Family Matter by Chris Glaser Copyright (c) 1993 by Chris R. Glaser. All rights reserved. In my book, *Uncommon Calling*, I describe a visit with an uncle and cousins in Texas that embodied Paul Tillich's famous "You Are Accepted" sermon for me. Their easy way of relating to one another and to me made me feel welcome. Somehow I was transformed by their "love and acceptance that required neither conformity nor achievement." I considered it "an experience of God's grace," and wondered if their acceptance arose from their suffering together the long illness and death of my aunt, their wife and mother, a few years before. Later, when I came out, I wondered if I would enjoy that same love and acceptance. I described my uncle as "a self- made man, owner of his own construction company, very macho, and a conservative Republican. Upon learning of my sexuality, he typically kidded my mother, `You tell Chris I just want him to know that he's always welcome in my house -- so long as he never votes Democratic again.'" Years later he sent word through his son that when the time came he wanted me to do his funeral. I wished him a long life by returning the message, "May I be ordained by the time you need my services!" I sent copies of that first book to my relatives, including my uncle in Texas. He called me soon after to thank me for it. He said in his endearing Texas drawl, "Y'know, I thought I'd read a few pages here and a few pages there at different times, but when I started reading it, I couldn't put it down. I read it straight through uninterrupted, except to eat and use the bathroom." His daughter became a fundamentalist Christian, and for a time lived not far from me when I lived in Los Angeles. She was not the same, easy-going, warm person I had once enjoyed. She was cordial -- friendly in a reserved and controlled way. Her home was immaculate, her children "perfectly" behaved, and she did not allow a television in the house. She questioned my sister about how I could justify being homosexual and Christian. She asked for a copy of my first book, and I sent her one. I never heard from her again until last May. Meanwhile, I had enjoyed a visit to my uncle and his son. His son had symbolically killed a fatted calf for me, barbecuing ribs in spicy Texan style for hours on the grill while I was still en route. Like his sister, he had joined the Assembly of God church, and it had helped him clean up his act, but it had not rendered him judgmental of me. We talked and played music late into the night, and again I experienced that unconditional positive regard that had seemed a trademark of his family. Then I had visited my uncle, who had personally fried up chicken for a large midday dinner. His new wife did not seem as warm, and put my place setting at the far end of the table, noticeably separated from them. I wondered if she feared that I had AIDS. I moved myself closer. My uncle and I had a "good ol' boy" chat in the living room. He told me that his daughter, concerned for his soul, had asked him to tune in to *The 700 Club* and go to church. He explained to me that he had never felt the need to go to church to be a Christian, and that he found himself put off by the televangelists spending most of their airtime asking for money. He said that he had mentioned to his daughter that his construction business had not done well in recent months because there had been a lot of rain, and she had suggested he pray for the rain to stop so he could get back to building. "Now I don't think that's right," he said to me, "I don't think I should pray for financial gain, do you?" He couldn't understand why the church wouldn't ordain me. Later, when he took me to the airport, he said casually, "I don't see why some Christians get so all-fired-up about being gay. Does the Bible say somethin' again' it?" I explained that some people thought so, but I didn't think it was so clear, and that people generally use scripture to back up their own opinions. "That's the way it is, isn't it?" he said. He hugged me good-bye. The last letter I wrote him was one extending my sympathy on the death of his second wife. In May, just after I had moved from Los Angeles to Atlanta, I learned that my uncle suffered a fatal heart attack. His son remembered his father's request, and called to invite me to lead the service. He explained that his sister would arrive later that day, and that he would call when funeral arrangements were finalized. But I did not hear from him that day, though I tried calling several times, leaving messages. Finally I got a call back the middle of the following day from my uncle's daughter. She was calling to disinvite me. I was devastated. I asked her if her decision had to do with what I discretely called "our theological differences." She said yes, explaining how she believed her dad had "fully accepted Christ" during the last year of his life, implying that his new conversion changed things. "He was a Christian when I last visited him," I told her, "But even so, I don't think his 'accepting Christ' would mean that he loved me any less. I'm being disinvited for your reasons, not his." "Now, Chris," my cousin began with all her Christian "sweetness", "I read your book" -- the first time she had acknowledged my sending her a copy -- "and I know how you interpret anyone disagreeing with you as a rejection. I love you just as I always did." I was astounded that she could use my book in this way. Yes, if I affirm myself as a gay Christian and someone says I can't be Christian and gay and therefore am not welcome in their church, I'm going to experience that as rejection. But it seemed neither the time nor place to argue the point. Yet I wasn't going to let her off the hook, either. "You're disinviting me from doing your father's eulogy," I told her, "That *is* rejection." "Well, now, we still want you to come," she said, saccharine sweet, as if she had rendered no blow. "We still would like you to be here, if you can afford it and can take the time, having just moved to a new city," she added. Yes, it would have been a sacrifice -- I was still unpacking boxes, finances were tight, and I was getting ready for a speaking trip to Des Moines. But I hadn't thought of it as a sacrifice in fulfilling my uncle's wish. It would have been an honor. It occurred to me that she wanted me there so she could feel better about disinviting me. I realized I was not ready to make the sacrifice for her. Explaining the special bond I had with her father, I told her, "This was a sacrifice I was willing to make to fulfill your father's wish, but it's not a sacrifice I am willing to make to fulfill yours." I felt remarkably strong and clear, while respecting her grief. I had earlier said that since funerals are for the living, she and her brother needed to decide what would make them most comfortable. I could live with their decision, as long as they did not gloss over its implications. I did not tell her that I believed she was dishonoring her father and the covenant into which he had invited me to do his service "when the time came." I am my uncle's namesake; my middle name was his first name. I am also the namesake of another family member -- not of the biological family, but of the spiritual family. My mother purposefully chose my first name, Christopher, which means "Christ-bearer." She never told me until after I chose ministry as a profession that she had committed my life to God while I was still in her womb. There is a service that commemorates my other family member's life and death that I am also unable to lead because sisters and brothers in faith have "disagreed" with me theologically. So I may not be ordained, nor may I lead a Communion service. But these same sisters and brothers in faith still want me -- and all of us -- to be there at Communion so they can feel better, pretending we haven't been excluded. We need to tell the church that it is dishonoring God and the covenant into which God has invited us through our baptism to do God's service when the call comes. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Database of Judicial Cases Planned Bill Capel, Clerk of Session at McKinley Memorial Presbyterian Church in Champaign, Illinois, is beginning a database to document judicial cases, or threats of judicial proceedings or exposure, have been used against lesbian, gay or bisexual deacons, elders, or ministers or against More Light Churches. In Bill's own case, "someone came up to me after my appearance on the podium of General Assembly and said that someone else was talking about filing charges against me in my home presbytery." Bill will respect varying levels of confidentiality, depending on the situation and wishes of persons involved. In some cases, all the facts and details are public and may be made freely available. In other cases, victims remain vulnerable, and therefore the situation will be described in generic terms, and the facts will be made available only by the person(s) involveed or with their permission. If you know of any such cases, please contact Bill Capel, Clerk of Session, McKinley Memorial Presbyterian Church, 908 West Healey St., Champaign, IL 61821-3932, 217/352-2298, FAX: 217/352- 0044, PresbyNet: BILL CAPEL, Internet: Bill_Capel.parti%pcusa01 @uunet.uu.net [no spaces!].