The hate mail
began to arrive in my e-mail box soon after I founded the
first online magazine for gay and lesbian Christians, Whosoever.org, back in 1996. Those
writing the e-mails had one message in common: God condemns
homosexuals, and to be loved and accepted by God you
must repent of your "sin" of homosexuality. It's been
remarked that it's difficult to convey emotion in the
body of an e-mail (which is why we have a whole lexicon of
smileys and other emoticons), but the anger, hatred, and
outright vitriol of those who sent me the e-mail was
clear -- no emoticons were needed.
The deluge of
condemning mail put me in a quandary. I was certain, even
back then, that God loved me and accepted me as both a
lesbian and a Christian -- but I had no idea how to
defend my belief and no idea how to answer these
e-mails. All I could do at that time was to respond with my
own e-mails full of anger and defensiveness.
I decided that to
answer these questions, I had to go back to school --
seminary, to be exact. I entered the Candler School of
Theology at Emory University in Atlanta in 1998, ready
to learn how to fight those who would condemn me. In
the end, I realized that while those who may have
written hateful letters to me were spoiling for a fight, the
best response I could give them was what 1 Peter
3:15-16 calls a "gentle and reverent" response. That
verse counsels Christians to always be gentle and
reverent when defending the hope that is within them -- even
if the attack against them is anything but.
That realization
led me to put together a workshop called "Spiritual
Self-Defense for Gay and Lesbian Christians" that was well
received at many LGBT-focused conferences around the
country. My first book, Bulletproof Faith: A Spiritual
Survival Guide for Gay and Lesbian Christians,
is the culmination of all those years of helping LGBT
people thrive spiritually even in the face of persecution
and condemnation by other Christians. It provides a
blueprint for anyone, gay or straight, who may find
themselves in a minority position where they feel
attacked or oppressed. I draw from many divergent sources,
from the Bible to Xena: Warrior Princess, to
equip LGBT Christians (as well as their allies) not
just to face attacks, but to turn those attacks into
opportunities for personal growth and dialogue with
those we may consider our "enemies."
Chapter 4: Wisdom Before Weapons
"It's wisdom before weapons, Gabrielle. The moment
you pick up a weapon, you become a target." --Xena, on
TV's Xena: Warrior Princess, in the
episode "Dreamworker"
When I first
started receiving hate mail, it affected me physically. Who
were these people to tell me that God hated me and would
spit me out? Who were these people to judge my faith?
Who were these people who thought I'd never
heard of Leviticus or Romans or 1 Corinthians? Did they
believe I'd read their e-mail and think, "Wow, I must
have missed those passages. I'll take Whosoever down
immediately!" The arrogance and sheer insolence of
these people amazed me and put me into a tailspin.
I would respond
with every ounce of my discomfort. I wrote scathing
replies, sardonic replies, sarcastic replies, or just plain
mean-spirited replies. I could really dish it out. I
was right, they were wrong, end of discussion! I
didn't care where they were coming from. I wanted them to
know my view and to know that it was right!
Marianne
Williamson, in A Return to Love, asks the
question, "Do you prefer to be right or happy?" We all
want to feel like what we believe is right, and when we're
challenged, our natural response is to defend our
beliefs -- often tooth and nail. But, as Williamson
says, "God doesn't need us to police the universe."
Instead of "shaking our finger" at those we believe
are wrong, a better response, Williamson notes, is one of
compassion and forgiveness. When we approach another person
with gentleness and reverence, we do not put them on
the defensive, but instead open a path to dialogue. As
Williamson says, we must fight against our own ego
that demands to be validated as "right."
I spent years as
an angry left-winger before I realized that an angry
generation can't bring peace. Everything we do is infused
with the energy with which we do it. As Gandhi said,
"We must be the change." What the ego
doesn't want us to see is that the guns we need to rid
ourselves of first are the guns in our own heads.
Of course, our
first impulse is to defend ourselves -- often forcefully
-- when we've been attacked. We want the other person to
understand our perspective, to hear our arguments. But
most of our attackers have no interest in hearing it.
They don't want a reasoned argument. They want to tell
you their opinion -- which they'll claim is not their
opinion, of course, but what God says -- and have no
interest in hearing yours.
This is an
important question for us to ponder, however: "Do you
prefer to be right or happy?" Those who constantly argue
with us have made their choice -- they prefer to be
right. They will argue until they are exhausted. They
will launch legislative drives to curb LGBT rights.
They will work tirelessly in their churches to ensure that
LGBT people are never ordained, accepted in leadership
positions, or seated in the pews. This is what happens
when we want to be right. Our lives are consumed with
fighting what we hate. We constantly tie ourselves to
things that make us miserable.
We must make a
choice. Can we stop arguing, let go of our need to
convince others that we are right, and learn to be happy
instead? A friend of mine once counseled a couple
experiencing trouble in their relationship. The man
insisted he was right. He was so wrapped up in being
right, he could not hear his wife's expressions of pain or
need. My friend, frustrated after several attempts to
help them, finally told the man, "You can be right, or
you can be in relationship."
This is our
choice. Do we want to be right -- to have our views
validated by those who oppose us -- or do we want to
seek deeper relationship with those who may be
considered our enemies? Do we want to bridge the gap and
find common ground, or do we simply want to be acknowledged
as right by our opponents, knowing full well that many
of them would rather die than give us an inch?
My oldest sister
and I practice this principle of being happy instead of
right. She disdains homosexuality and believes I am not
living the life God would will for me. We understand
each other's point of view, and we know that we cannot
change each other's mind. I could spend all my time
with her trying to convince her that I'm right and she's
wrong -- but what a miserable time we'd have together.
Instead, we've opted for relationship. We enjoy our
time together. We love each other and want to spend
time together. So we put aside our need to be right. We
choose relationship.
This is not to
say that we in the LGBT community must go back into the
closet or keep our lives quiet. We must still work for
equality in church and society. But we do need to try
our best to find common ground with those we seek as
dialogue partners. This is not easy, because we want
desperately to be right. We often need our views validated
by others, or else we question our conclusions. When
we are bulletproof, however, we can let go of the need
to be right. We can choose to be happy instead.
Xena's Defense Theory
If we truly want
to see a change in our opponents, we first have to be,
as Gandhi said, the change we wish to see. If we wish to see
our opponents respond to us in a gentle and reverent
manner, we must first respond to them in a gentle and
reverent manner. If we seek relationship instead of
being right, we must take the first steps toward
relationship. We need to learn how to speak in a way
that will be heard instead of our words causing
barriers to go up and ears to close. We need to learn how
to truly listen to our opponents and open our hearts to
them.
We must resist
the urge to draw our sharp weapons of sarcasm, anger,
fear, or loathing when we're attacked. Xena was renowned in
the television series for her fighting skills, but she
was always reluctant to teach them to her gentle
sidekick, Gabrielle, as the following scene
illustrates:
Xena: "Don't
confuse defending yourself with using a weapon. When you
pull a sword, you have to be ready to kill. People are too
quick to go for their swords. It should always be the
last resort."
Gabrielle: "I
don't want to learn to kill. I want to learn to
survive."
Xena: "All right,
the rules of survival. Number one: If you can run,
run. Number two: If you can't run, surrender, then run.
Number three: If you're outnumbered, let them fight
each other while you run. Number four -- "
Gabrielle: "Wait
-- more running?"
Xena: "No, four
is where you talk your way out of it, and I know you
can do that. It's wisdom before weapons, Gabrielle. The
moment you pick up a weapon, you become a target."
Wisdom before
weapons. Xena's defense theory is one where words take
precedence, but as we well know, words are powerful and can
be just as deadly as swords.
Our words can
create healing or suffering. It's up to us to realize this
power and begin to choose our words carefully, even in
response to words meant to hurt us, put us down, or
denigrate us. The words we say in reply must always be
gentle and full of reverence.
But as Xena
wisely pointed out, often "running away" -- simply
removing ourselves from the situation -- may be the best
thing we can do to defend ourselves. Never forget that
we don't have to dignify our attackers with a
response. Ever since I realized that the Delete key
exists for a reason, I use it often when I receive odious
e-mails. I never feel bad when I hit that key and
refuse to be drawn into a fruitless debate with an
enemy. Instead, I feel empowered because I know that
my faith has again deflected another bullet. Running away --
refusing to engage in a potentially harmful situation -- is
not a defeat; it is survival.