Our reading
for this week is from journalist Raymond Braun, host of the 2019 documentary, State of Pride, in which he travels
around the country to Gay Pride festivals, interviewing members of the LGBTQ
community, asking them to share their stories.
I can’t even
articulate how terrified I was to come out, even though pretty much everyone
knew. I used to rehearse trying to come out to my family, and it was really
scary for me because I couldn’t even start getting the words out without
starting to cry. My idea was, ‘Let me write them this letter that is
bulletproof.’
It was 16
pages, single spaced, and the 15 hours from me sending the Fedex to my parents
receiving it were the most agonizing of my life. I got a call, maybe 20, 25
minutes after the letter had arrived, and the first thing that my mom said was,
“I love you. I just want you to know that I love you so much. Come home, and
we’ll talk everything through. You’re my son and I will always love you.”
And that was
all I needed to hear in that moment. And it was the biggest weight off my
shoulders because I had at that point 17 years of shame and fear and self-hatred
and self-disgust.
Sermon - State of Pride
We are finishing up our documentary sermon
series this week with The State of Pride,
available on YouTube. As we heard in the
reading, the documentary follows journalist Raymond Braun as he travels across
America, visiting Gay Pride Festivals, 50 years after Stonewall, asking the
folks there to share their stories. His first stop is DC Pride. When he asks the
people there what Pride means to them, they answer, “It feels so good to be round people who are like me, and who have the same struggles as me.” “You can
shed your shame and just be yourself!“ “There is a spirit of community and connectedness. You don’t feel alone in the world.” But the
trans women of color that he interviews tell a different story, because 50 years after
Stonewall, they are still not accepted as equals. And they were the ones who started
the Stonewall uprising by finally saying “Enough!” after being arrested and
humiliated again and again, yet they are still ostracized. Raymond also visits San
Francisco Pride where over a million people gather each year. In 2005, Cathy and I happened to be in Berkley,
where I was taking some courses at the Pacific School of Religion, during San
Francisco Pride. And, Wow! I’ve never seen anything like it. They capture
better than anyone the spirit that Pride is both a march for equality and a
celebration of life and love. But an African-American woman Raymond interviewed
expressed a sentiment similar to the trans women in DC., noting that 50 years
after Stonewall, in the diverse city of San Francisco, the leadership of Pride is still white, male, and privileged.
They visit Salt Lake City, where we meet a gay
man from a Mormon family, who, when he came out, left the church. He says he loves
his family and they love him, but it’s hard for him to reconcile that with
their devotion to the Mormon Church, which has such anti-gay belief. He started a support group for gay Mormons and
ex-Mormons. The film shows one of their meetings, where a
young teenager speaks through tears about being depressed and suicidal because
she was taught that being gay was an abomination, which is what all gay people who
grew up in fundamentalist churches were taught. And it is where most of our internalized
shame and self-hatred come from. My favorite part of the documentary was the
visit to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, where we learned they held their first Pride
festival in 2014 with about 50 people in attendance, in a part of the country where, as one attendee
says, “There is terror in even walking out the door and being who you are.” One
of the older people Raymond interviewed said that Pride festivals in small
towns, especially in the South, are a lot like the original Pride festivals in
big cities, visibility at any cost. And that people who live in big cities sometimes don’t realize how hard it is to be gay
in a small town. Tuscaloosa Pride reminded me so much of our first Fernandina
Pride last year. It was held in a big green field in the center of town, folks came
decked out in rainbows, and laughed and hugged and danced in a safe space where
they were accepted for who they are.
50 years, 51 now, seems like a long time for the
amount of progress that has been made, when trans people are still murdered for
being who they are. But we are 55 years from Bloody Sunday, and black people
are still murdered for being black. As Dr. King said, “The road to freedom is a
hard road. Two years ago, our church’s community conversation on LGBTQ issues, which
our mayor attended, was the starting point of what became Fernandina Pride. And
for this small town in Florageorgia, that is major progress. At New Vision, we
believe that all God’s children are worthy and deserving of justice and
equality. We live Jesus’ commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves,
without exceptions. Our presence and leadership have opened hearts and minds
here. And I am so proud of us. Jane’s postlude,
which we are about to hear, embodies this same message. The song is “Help us
Accept Each Other.” Here are the lyrics:
“Help us accept each other, as Christ accepted
us.
Teach us as sister, brother, each person to
embrace.
Be present God among us, and teach us to
believe,
we are ourselves accepted and meant to love and
live.
Teach us, O God, your lessons, as in our daily
life,
we struggle to be human and search for hope and
faith.
Teach us to care for people, for all, not just
for some.
To love them as we find them or as they may
become.
“
God, for today’s encounters, with all who are in
need,
Who hunger for acceptance, for righteousness,
and bread,
Bring us new eyes for seeing, new hands for
holding on,
Renew us with your spirit, God. Free us, make us
one.”
God bless you. Stay safe. Amen.
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