Thursday 15 October 2015

Antitheism is not the answer

As a gay Christian, you can often feel that you have your feet in two different camps that are often at war with each other.  For many gay Christians, the Christians in our past don't accept us after we share about who we truly are. Their thinking is often that this is a lifestyle "choice" that we have made, and have turned away from godly living (if that is their theology, they don't recognise that that is the human condition, and so we're all in the same boat).  So we may find ourselves without a faith community behind us, as we struggle to find a way forward in our faith.

On the other side of the fence is the LGBT community that welcomes us, but often struggles to accept our faith, because they have been exposed to cruel judgement and ostracism by many in the Church or - worse yet - subjected to attempts to "pray the gay away" or been coerced into "gay conversion therapy" or even being convinced to enter into a relationship with someone from the opposite sex in an attempt to "bring out the straight in you."  In my case, it was all three, which made for a rather dismal chapter of my life, where death became the only hope of release, and fear of hell became the only reason I chose not to end life at my own hands.  If they don't encounter such malevolent behaviour, they're often only too aware of the very negative messages in the press by outspoken anti-gay Christian lobbying groups or church groups.  It's easy to understand why many members of the LGBT community don't have a faith, and don't want one.  But that is often not the gay Christian's understanding of faith for them.  For many, despite the judgements, it will be what has kept them going.

So, you can see that if you happen to both be gay and have a faith, it's not a particularly easy place to be in. However, for many, as much as being gay is part of our identity, so is having a faith, and we're often presented with having to choose one of two options ... either we abandon our faith, or we try and find a way to exist with one foot in each camp.  Some may choose to leave their faith communities (sadly, sometimes they're forced out).  Some will join new faith communities that are inclusive, but many retain some connection with faith and struggle to find a way forward. (How good it would be if churches were able to look past the fear and the judging and the dogma, to see this need for nurturing.  Welcome these people back as they are, and - IF there is changing to be done - let God do it.  You may not be comfortable with them, or their partner, or their social lives, but they're God's children, as much as anyone else, and they often have no spiritual home to turn to.)

I have many friends who are not Christian, but respect my choice to be a Christian (for - at the end of the day - that is the choice ... my sexual identity is not). I also have some friends that don't respect my faith, and that can sometimes be difficult. I respect someone else's choice to not follow a faith, and I respect that they have every right to be atheist, but it can hurt to hear friends speaking against all people of faith, and blaming all believers for the Church's attitude to the LGBT community.

Some people portray all religion as irrelevant, harmful, and don't think it has anything good to say.  In many cases that may be true.  But, there are as many different ways of believing as there are people ... each person has a different experience of faith and a different way of expressing that.  Many people of faith are working hard to bring change from within, and make our communities of faith more inclusive places.

The danger of painting all people of faith with the same brush, and by declaring faith irrelevant is that by doing so, you silence the voices of those within that institution or faith who are fighting for equality and inclusion.  The only way to effectively bring change is to continue engaging with people, affirm positive change where you see it, inform viewpoints where you can, and support those members of the LGBT community who are struggling to maintain relationships on both sides of the fence.

Sunday 15 March 2015

Mothering Sunday

I'll always call it "Mothering Sunday" and not "Mother's Day" ... not so much to prove a point, but because the two are different ... one comes from a religious and community tradition in our history and the other is mostly a commercial event. On Mothering Sunday, people were released from work, and allowed to return to their "Mother" churches and communities, to be reunited with families and friends. There's more on the history below.

For me, to call "Mothering Sunday" "Mother's Day" is to wipe out the link with our past, but also to reduce it to the mere opportunity to buy specially labelled cards, flowers, chocolates, etc..

We can indeed celebrate Mothers on Mothering Sunday, and should - as that's part of the history - but also remember the wider community context of the event, and celebrate each other; celebrate being a part of a "mother" community that nurtured us.  And, of course, as part of that community, we need to be mindful of those for whom days like today may be difficult or fraught ... or simply those who feel that they are outside the "conventional" mould of motherhood or family:

Those who can't have children;
Those who have lost children;
Those who have lost parents;
Those who have been bereaved before childbirth;
Those who care for the children of others;
Those who are estranged from children or parents;
Those who - for other reasons - are no longer part of a family unit;
Those who are yet to start their families;
Those who are expecting children;
Those who are trying to form new families, with someone else's children;
Those who are separated from parents or children by work or military service;
Those who are separated from parents or children by war or violence;
Single-parent families;
Same-sex parents;
And those who I may have overlooked ...

You are valued today and every day, and are invaluable members of our community. Thank you for all you bring to our lives.

A bit of history, from Wikipedia (as on 15 March 2015):
During the sixteenth century, people returned to their mother church, the main church or cathedral of the area, for a service to be held on Laetare Sunday. This was either a large local church, or more often the nearest cathedral. Anyone who did this was commonly said to have gone "a-mothering", although whether this term preceded the observance of Mothering Sunday is unclear. In later times, Mothering Sunday became a day when domestic servants were given a day off to visit their mother church, usually with their own mothers and other family members. It was often the only time that whole families could gather together, since on other days they were prevented by conflicting working hours, and servants were not given free days on other occasions. 
Children and young people who were "in service" (as household servants) were given a day off on that date so they could visit their families (or, originally, return to their "mother" church). The children would pick wild flowers along the way to place in the church or give to their mothers. Eventually, the religious tradition evolved into the Mothering Sunday secular tradition of giving gifts to mothers. 
By the 1920s the custom of keeping Mothering Sunday had tended to lapse in Ireland and in continental Europe. In 1914, inspired by Anna Jarvis's efforts in the United States,Constance Penswick-Smith created the Mothering Sunday Movement, and in 1921 she wrote a book asking for the revival of the festival; Constance was the daughter of the vicar of Coddington, Nottinghamshire, and there is a memorial in Coddington's church. Its wide-scale revival was through the influence of American and Canadian soldiers serving abroad during World War II; the traditions of Mothering Sunday, still practised by the Church of England and Church of Ireland were merged with the newly imported traditions and celebrated in the wider Catholic and secular society. UK-based merchants saw the commercial opportunity in the holiday and relentlessly promoted it in the UK; by the 1950s, it was celebrated across all the UK. 
People from Ireland and the UK started celebrating Mother's Day on the same day that Mothering Sunday was celebrated, the fourth Sunday in Lent. The two celebrations have now been mixed up, and many people think that they are the same thing.

Saturday 14 February 2015

Take me to church?

As we contemplate the injustice committed by the House of Bishops last Valentines Day, I was reminded this morning of-, and am strengthened by the lyrics of "Take me to church", by Hozier​, which addresses anti-gay sentiment in the Church.  My heart weeps for those who are hurt daily in the name of faith ... come Lord Jesus.

"Take Me To Church" - Hozier

My lover's got humour
She's the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody's disapproval
I should've worshipped her sooner

If the heavens ever did speak
She's the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday's getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week

'We were born sick, ' you heard them say it

My Church offers no absolutes
She tells me, 'Worship in the bedroom.'
The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you—

I was born sick,
But I love it
Command me to be well
Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen.

[Chorus 2x:]
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

If I'm a pagan of the good times
My lover's the sunlight
To keep the Goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice

Drain the whole sea
Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That's a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We've a lot of starving faithful

That looks tasty
That looks plenty
This is hungry work

[Chorus 2x:]
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Offer me my deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

No Masters or Kings
When the Ritual begins
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene
Only then I am Human
Only then I am Clean
Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen.

[Chorus 2x:]
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life



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The other song that brings great encouragement, bears the same title, by Sinead O'Connor.  These lyrics, too, are a stark reminder of what's going wrong in so many of our churches that use faith to oppress.

"Take Me To Church"

I don't wanna love the way I loved before
I don't wanna love that way no more
What have I been writing love songs for?
I don't want to write them anymore
I don't wanna sing from where I sang before
I don't wanna sing that way no more
What've I've been singing love songs for?
I don't wanna sing them anymore,
I don't wanna be that girl no more
I don't wanna cry no more
I don't wanna die no more
So cut me down from this here tree
Cut the rope from off of me
Sit me on the floor,
I'm the only one I should adore

Oh, Take me to church,
I've done so many bad things it hurts
yeah, Take me to church
but not the ones that hurt
'Cause that ain't the truth
And that's not what it's worth
Yeah, take me to church
oh, take me to church
I've done so many bad things it hurts
Yeah, get me to church
but not the ones that hurt
'Cause that ain't the truth
And that's not what it's worth

I'm gonna sing songs of loving and forgiving
Songs of eating and of drinking, 
songs of living, songs of calling in the night 
'cause songs are like a bolt of light
And love's the only love you should invite
Songs of long and spiteful fails
songs that don't let you sit still 
Songs that mend your broken bones
and that don't leave you alone
So get me down from this here tree,
take the rope from off of me
sit me on the floor,
I'm the only one I should adore!

Oh, Take me to church,
I've done so many bad things it hurts
Yeah take me to church,
but not the ones that hurt
'Cause that ain't the truth
And that's not what it's worth
Yeah, take me to church
oh, take me to church
I've done so many bad things it hurts
Yeah, get me to church,
but not the ones that hurt
'Cause that ain't the truth
And that's not what it's worth


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I'll keep praying and speaking out, with countless others, until our worship spaces are safe space for all.  I know, realistically, we'll never be in the place where all of them are, but we keep praying and speaking out, so that the harmful ones will be in the minority.

If you're not in a supportive church, and need some encouragement, please do look at my post about inclusive faith groups, "Support Inclusivity" and get in touch with one of those organisations. If you have the means to support them (with time or talent), please let them know ... we need as many people involved as we can get.

Peace & love to you this Valentines Day.