Reflection - From "Standing on the Side of Love" Service
Sunday, November 16th, 2008
Boulder Valley Unitarian Universalist Fellowship
Lafayette, Colorado
When I first started attending services at this Fellowship, over 3 years ago now, I couldn’t get through a Sunday without crying. It wasn’t because of the sermons, although Rev. Catherine’s could be quite moving. It wasn’t because of the candles of community, although they made my heart sing.
What filled me up and made my tears spill over was the spiritual warmth in this room. It is here every time we all gather on Sunday morning. It’s not created by the place, or by our religion, or by our minister. It’s created by us. By sharing our lives with each other, by lifting each other up, by releasing our hope and goodwill into this space. To a newcomer it is so palpable it can be overwhelming - and that is why I cried every Sunday at first. Now, I am used to it, so I can’t always feel it anymore. Maybe you are used to it, too. Let’s take a moment now to feel that warmth again.
For me, sitting among you felt like coming in out of the cold of winter, sitting down next to a crackling fire and being presented a hot mug of tea. It was an immediate recognition that this place is good for me, and that I belong here.
What was less apparent was how much of myself I should share with you. That is, how “out” should I be here? One aspect of being gay is living with the knowledge that many people think there is something wrong with you. I know that just being myself can make people uncomfortable, confused, and even angry. I also know that reaction can happen anywhere, even among wonderful and kind people.
So, I did my nervous introductions. What I wanted to say was, “Hi, I’m Jenny and this is my amazing girlfriend, Jen.” What I usually said was, “Hi, I’m Jenny.” And then looked over at Jen and waited for her to introduce herself. Then maybe I would say “we” a lot in the conversation and stand a little closer to her. You guys are pretty astute - I’m sure you got that we were a couple - but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel authentic.
Many coffee hours over many Sundays gave me plenty of chances to practice these small coming out experiences, and over time I got better. After a while “Hi, I’m Jenny and this is my partner, Jen” was pretty easy, and the sky didn’t fall. Nobody glared at me or avoided me. The more we got to know each other the less nervous I felt with each new hello.
Then, came the questions. “Are you going to have a commitment ceremony?” “When are you getting married?” and even “Are you planning to have kids?” I felt honored by your questions, which indicated your anticipation of my milestones of young adulthood. Realizing that I now had a community of support, I started to feel ready to figure out the answers to those questions.
And so, this September, Jen and I got married. My father walked me down the aisle. My mother cried. My sister sang a song. My wedding was attended by family and friends, including many of you. Rev. Lydia officiated. I kissed my bride. My brother hugged me tight in the receiving line, and my new in-laws welcomed me with open arms, broad smiles and kind words. It was a perfect day, not more than I dreamed, but more than I ever expected.
It happened because you gave me a place to grow: to dig my roots down, strengthened as they intertwined with yours. It would not have happened without your encouragement.
After the passage of Prop 8 in California and the national response since the election, I believe that we are entering an especially tumultuous time in the gay rights movement. We need to reach out to gay people now. Right now there are GLBT people all over this area, hurt by recent political losses, feeling disconnected and alone. They are out in the cold winter, fighting for better lives. They need to know about our warm and welcoming Fellowship.
I am asking you to help them by coming out. First, come out Unitarian Universalist. Tell people about this place. Get them in the door! I know we UUs hate to proselytize but we can’t hide our light under a bushel and expect those who need us to find us!
Thirty years ago, Harvey Milk said, “Gay brothers and sisters, you must come out!”
He commanded gay people to come out to their families, friends, neighbors and coworkers. He argued that only by letting people know us could we break down the stereotypes, the myths and the lies that fueled prejudice against gay people and gain acceptance and equality. The freedom and acceptance that Jen and I enjoy today is because gay people have come out. We’ve won over somewhere around half of the people in this country.
The other half still thinks there is something wrong with me. They don’t want me to marry or to have kids. I’m not sure anything I do can change that, but I think you can change it. I am saying to you, “Brothers and Sisters, you must come out!” You must come out as straight allies of gay people. You must tell your friends and coworkers and neighbors and families that you support full equality for GLBT people. Hopefully, your “coming out” will create an environment where respecting love and expecting equality for all people is the norm.
Please remember that coming out is an ongoing process and something that you will have to do over and over again. And remember that it might not be easy at first, but the more you practice the better you will get. When you feel awkward or discouraged think of the warmth of this place, and imagine it spreading out to cover the world.
