Written for Outlook, Long Island’s LGBT magazine.
The early Christian church was an underground movement. In declaring that God was the only legitimate ruler, and that justice, love and grace were not subject to political control, the early Jesus community committed acts of treason. If you couldn’t keep a secret, you were likely to end up the main course for lunch with the lions in the local coliseum. This changed a couple of centuries later, when Christianity was not only accepted, but became the state religion. But what was compromised? Many believe that Christianity aligned with empire was something very different from the Christianity at the margins, diverging significantly from the teachings of that itinerant Jewish rabbi and healer.
This came to mind recently as I reflected on the disappearing gay community. It is not that we’re dying out. I am sure there are just as many LGBT folks today as ever, and with things getting better in most parts of our country, I suspect fewer of us are remaining closeted in fear. No, when I say our community is disappearing, I mean that we are less likely to live in gay ghettos. (And most major metropolitan areas had a gay neighborhood.) We are less likely to belong to LGBT-only organizations. We are less likely to belong to LGBT-only sports leagues. LGBT specific bookstores were among the first to go as the brick-and-mortar book selling industry declined.
This has particularly effected me and the congregation I serve. Twenty years ago, when my church extended a welcome to LGBT Christians and called its first LGBT pastor, it was unique. Folks would drive for an hour or more to get here. Today, an LGBT Christian driving an hour to get here would have to pass several other churches that would be delighted to welcome her or him, with or without spouse and kids. Twenty years ago the church I serve, founded in 1858, became the “gay church.†Today, we’re just one more church. We still have the same progressive theology and commitments that made us pioneers for women’s rights, racial justice, LGBT-equality, and we still have same-sex families. But that is just a small part of who we are, and we are not alone.
Yet in some ways, I mourn for those LGBT ghettos. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that my social and professional circle reflects the diversity of the wider society, even if it makes it a little harder to find a date. But I wonder if in our effort to fit in, we haven’t sacrificed something creative, amazing, weird. Can we blend in and be distinct at the same time?
I hope the answer is yes. I look at the history of Christendom and see a steady line of rebels, of funky souls and poets. Francis of Assisi, Hildegard of Bingen, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and so many more. I pray that my other tribe, the LGBT tribe that has been such a gift to human kind, can stay a little weird. Be funky my friend. The world needs us.