On a somewhat chilly and typically damp day in Brussels,
Belgium fifteen or so years ago, I struggled to push my toddler son’s stroller over
the large cobblestones near the Grande Place, just as I was struggling to
figure out how to occupy him for the hour or so until my husband would join us.
As I rounded a corner near our hotel, I noticed what looked like a parade
forming up the street near the top of a small hill and thought, what good
fortune! Nothing like a parade to entertain a toddler!
The sidewalk was mercifully smooth on the uphill slope. As I
found a perfect spot on a corner, I noticed that there were strangely few
people there to watch the parade. Counting myself lucky, I positioned my son
for maximum visibility, then crouched down beside him to share my excitement at
what we were about to share together.
What appeared shortly thereafter was not what I expected.
Men in very little clothing and enormous, vibrant feathers strutted down the
street, accompanied by men and a few women clad in black leather and a lot of
hardware. They were having a perfectly fabulous time, and seemed delighted that
my son and I were there to watch. I realized quickly what I had stumbled into,
and while I confess that I was little relieved that my son was too young to ask any questions later, I was pleased to experience something far more topical than
some random, centuries-old parade near a European town square.
After all, just a few short years earlier, I had penned and
saw published a letter to the editor of the International
Herald Tribune that argued cogently and passionately for the right of gay couples
to adopt children. My letter was a response to an opinion piece I had seen a
few weeks earlier arguing against it, and I carefully and succinctly took that
opinion piece apart, point by point. Apparently the editors found my argument
convincing since they printed it. I was very proud.
Yet even as I stood in my progressive self-satisfaction on a
street corner that chilly day in Brussels, I saw a sign among the revelers that
carried a message I had never before considered: Ik wil trouwen.
I don’t know why, but it had never occurred to me that gay people would want to marry.
I was startled. Stunned, even.
I still don’t know why I was so surprised, especially for a
woman who was perfectly ready to argue for gay rights in areas that others
thought should belong only to mixed gender couples. It probably had something
to do with my religious upbringing, even though at that point I was not a
practicing Christian.
Now I am a Christian, and I have been following what has
been taking place on this question in the United Methodist Church. I have read
my cousin Kevin Higgs’ book Hospitality to
Strangers: Theology and Homosexuality. I’ve read what Bishop Melvin Talbert
has to say on the subject. I realize that my denomination – Presbyterian Church
USA – also fails to acknowledge gay marriage. I confess that I straddled this
issue in my head for years since that day in Brussels: on one side, my gay
friends and their unions that are no better or worse, and certainly no less
sacred than my own, and on the other the supposedly Biblical teachings of my religion
on the subject.
I read the Bible cover to cover when I gave my life to
Christ as an adult to make sure I knew what I was getting into. I've read the parts about women, slavery, and homosexuality that I don't understand, and that don't seem to gel with who Christ is. So I kept straddling. I was probably worried about not
being a good Christian, even as I spoke words of encouragement to my gay
friends.
But over time my ambivalence has drained away. Maybe it was watching most of my college students look at those who do not embrace
gay marriage as if they had just crawled out from under a rock. Perhaps it was
seeing a fairly famous and talented friend perform career suicide by leaving her
stance concerning gay marriage ambiguous at best, and by tangling it all up
with Christianity.
In any case, I am straddling no longer. I don’t know or care anymore
if it’s Biblical. I am simply a loving
person who wants folks to be able to love those they love fully in the presence
of God. I don’t think Christ would stand with those who hate. It’s just not in
His nature.
On that damp corner in Brussels, with my toddler son staring in
fascination, I had never considered gay marriage, and was certainly not ready to embrace it. Now I embrace it fully.
