Cynthia Cavalcanti: Cynthia Cavalcanti is a Ph.D. student in Religion and Social Ethics at the University of Southern California. Her general area of interest is the intersection of gender, ethnicity, and religion. Currently her focus is upon the religious/spiritual experience of lesbians, particularly in Buddhism.
Keith Hartman maintains homosexuality is “the most divisive element facing the Church today” (ix). He likens this issue to the question of slavery 150 years ago—emotionally and politically charged, testing the value of truths about God and the Bible many have taken for granted. Also, he remarks, there is an irony about a faith community whose solidarity is grounded in common beliefs finding itself divided on an issue as central to one's being as sexuality. Hartman conducted his research among nine churches in Raleigh, Durham, and Chapel Hill, North Carolina, an area where tobacco farms, prestigious universities, and the Bible belt intersect. The author's hypothesis that a congregation's true values are revealed in the process of resolving internal disputes is tested and supported in the nine chapters which constitute this volume, each of which deals with a single congregation.
The Generation Gap: Fairmont Methodist
Hartman recounts the story of Rev. Jimmy Creech, a young (heterosexual) minister on the rise, assigned to a congregation in its early stages of healing from a generational conflict which had led to the exodus of members ages 35 to 55. The remaining older members were put off by Creech's passionate commitment to issues of social justice, which he also chose to focus on in his sermons. Creech's arrival in Raleigh coincided with a current debate regarding the inclusion of sexual orientation into the city's nondiscrimination policy. Area ministers who were supportive of the Gay and Lesbian quest for equal rights were loathe to speak publicly in favor of the change. As a result, the fundamentalist opposition appeared daunting. Enter Jimmy Creech. Creech joined forces with an ecumenical group dedicated to promoting the gospel as “a statement of God's grace, and not of judgment” (5). He mailed a letter to every clerical member of Wake County in an effort to raise consciousness about their own gay and lesbian members, in the spirit of the upcoming Pride Parade. Creech's letter was met with much hostility, including by members of his own church. Creech himself marched in the parade, and later recalled the experience as “one of the spiritual highs of my life” (8).
When his own congregation presented their formal resolution upholding sanctions against homosexuality, Creech responded with his own conviction that a fair God would not discriminate based on sexuality. Notwithstanding support by the young adult contingent, and the Bishop's blessing to boot, the older congregants began the process of expelling their pastor, and continued their persecution of Creech in a vicious display of hostility and judgment. Eventually Creech found himself without income, without shelter, and without hope of continuing as a Methodist minister. Today Creech holds a position with the North Carolina Council of Churches, promoting social justice for migrant workers in that state. While he is deeply dedicated to his work, he misses pastoring a congregation. Creech laments that little palpable change resulted from his three-year battle in Raleigh, but then acknowledges that the consciousness-raising he helped bring to that town may have been at least a start.
Fellowship of Believers: Pullen Baptist
The pastor of Pullen Baptist, Mahan Siler, was called upon to testify in favor of equal protection for gays and lesbians. Because he was placed toward the end of the docket, he sat through testimony after testimony, listening to the injustices inflicted upon homosexuals, appalled by the religious sentiment with which so much hatred was wrought. Siler was the long-standing leader of his very conservative, caucasian, Southern Baptist congregation. Pullen had backed integration in the 1950s racial South, and never flinched when Siler marched alongside Jimmy Creech in the 1988 Pride Parade. When a lesbian member requested that Pullen make explicit its receptivity to homosexual membership, the diaconate turned her down, but agreed to establish a series of educational forums on homosexuality which would be promoted to the entire congregation.
A year later, Pastor Siler asked the Deacons to concede to his officiating over a gay commitment ceremony. Although reactions were divided between positive support and fearful opposition, the Board decided in favor of their leader's request. Here it is important to know that Baptist churches are autonomous. They do not adhere to a hierarchical model of decision-making, as many other denominations do. Individual congregations have full power of interpretation and self-direction. When Pullen's Board of Deacons convened again a month later, they were profoundly divided along ideological lines, yet in unanimous agreement to support their pastor's social conscience. The decision was made to put a vote before the congregation to settle the issue. The church members met in focus groups for more than a month, consciously exploring the phenomenon of homosexuality, and how to interpret related issues in light of scripture. Not surprisingly, someone came out at almost every gathering, and many parents came out about their gay or lesbian children.
Newspaper coverage of the upcoming gay ceremony stirred mixed emotions in the community. While one of the “grooms” was unconditionally supported by his coworkers, his parents were met with hostility at their own church, and his mother was ostracized at her workplace. Pullen was continually stalked by protesters on Sunday mornings. As voting day drew near, ballots were mailed to the congregation. 64% of the voters agreed that the gay union in question was in keeping with their church's commitment to ministry. In the aftermath of the ceremony, other Southern Baptist churches responded in nearly-unanimous opposition to Pullen's decision. Pullen was soon expelled from the Raleigh Baptist Association; later from the North Carolina Baptist Convention; and finally from the Southern Baptist Convention as well. Of the 36% of Pullen's membership who had voted against the union, the majority elected to remain as congregants, citing solidarity as far more significant than their personal views on particular issues, and affirming the importance of church autonomy.
License to Preach: Binkley Baptist
Unlike Pullen, Binkley Baptist had always been a racially mixed congregation, but it shared with Pullen a time-honored tradition of confronting the norm. Yet in 1992, Binkley's diaconate was faced with a novel challenge: the question of whether to ordain an openly-gay man, John Blevins. Being good Baptists, they put the matter before the congregation. The deacons devoted the next half year to education - their own and the membership's - on every dimension of homosexuality. Other local Baptist clergy admonished Binkley to decide John's fate based on his ministerial capabilities, not on his sexual identity. Further, no one in a local leadership position would agree to speak publicly against John's licensure.
A year later, in a vote of 145 to 107, Blevins was approved for licensure. The conservative members of Binkley, unlike those at Pullen, did not hold solidarity above individual issues—at least not above this one. That contingent pulled together in an effort to reverse the decision. While their effort was unsuccessful, Binkley suffered the loss of seven deacons and many lay members, as well as financial decline. 1992 saw their expulsion from the Southern Baptist Convention, along with Pullen. John Blevins soon accepted the chaplaincy in an AIDS network in Chicago where he eventually sought ordination but was denied. He then turned to Binkley where he was denied as well. As of 1994, Blevins still was not ordained.
The Class of 1992: Duke Divinity School
Blevins' colleague at Duke, Richard Bardusch, turned out to be gay as well. Both men found the courage to challenge their faculty's open expressions of homophobia, and together with two fellow students founded a G/L student union. While they met with opposition along the way, they secured faculty backing from none other than the renown ethicist, Stanley Hauerwas, along with a lesbian member of the junior faculty. A brutal, and largely nameless, backlash ensued.
As time passed, the hypocritical nature of the school became increasingly evident to Richard and John. Closeted homosexuals found the road to ordination a smooth one; those who came out honestly were met with vehement opposition. Lying about one's own sexuality was condoned—both as a recommendation and in practice. For example, a gay ordained member of the campus ministry was known to seduce undergraduates in the restroom into unprotected anal sex. His behavior was never challenged as he had always stayed closeted where the faculty and leadership were concerned Frustrated and appalled by the hypocrisy, Richard converted to the Episcopal church, pursuing the priesthood therein. Twice denied ordination, it seemed he had forfeited every chance by openly admitting he was gay. The following year, however, he was allowed to begin the process again by agreeing to take a vow of celibacy.
The Long-Term Cost: The Reverend Jim Lewis
The religious right was a formidable presence in 1970's Charleston, West Virginia, where the introduction of multicultural textbooks into the high schools prompted a wave of violent opposition that included death threats and actual bombings. While school teachers were intimidated into teaching WASP morality, and principals coerced into rejecting the new textbooks, Rev. Jim Lewis emerged as an activist. Little did he know how long the battle would last. It started when a gay friend came out to him. In response, Lewis established a G/L support group at his church, St. John's Episcopal, which he himself attended out of genuine interest. What Lewis learned in the group served to dispel the many myths about homosexuality he had been taught to believe. As he became known as a gay-friendly priest, he began to attract a strong following from the homosexual community. Eventually a male couple came to him requesting to be married. Two women soon followed with the same request.
At the time, the Anglican Church did not hold a formal position in favor of or against homosexuality. Lewis was a true pioneer in the territory of G/L marriage. Nowhere in the Bible did he find explicit sanctions against it, at least not in the New Testament. Abandoning Christian scripture, Lewis reflected upon his own innate sense of moral virtue. He found that to bless the love between two people would be perfectly natural, so he officiated over both unions as “liturgies of friendship” (85). While the ceremonies were kept private, according to each couple's wishes, word eventually reached the public via the newspaper. It was then, as Lewis recalls, that “all hell broke loose” (85). It seemed ironic to him that such celebrations of love could be regarded with such hatred. He was continually harassed, stalked, and threatened.
Despite tremendous opposition, Lewis garnered enough support to enjoy a long career at St. John's. In 1979 the Episcopal Church took a formal stand against the ordination of “practicing homosexuals”. Lewis has since brought three openly-gay candidates before the General Convention for ordination. All three agreed to vow celibacy. Lewis continues to lobby for the deletion of all sexual criteria from those precepts required for ordination. Now located in Raleigh, Lewis is intricately involved in many aspects of the G/L movement.
The Quaker Process: Chapel Hill Friends Meeting
Historically, Quakers have privileged their own principles of peace and justice over and above laws. In addition, Quakers do not typically grapple with particular issues until their own meeting is confronted with one. Throughout the 1980s “ceremonies of commitment” were performed in Friends Meetings across the United States and in other parts of the world. In 1987 five meetings held gay or lesbian “marriages”—one of which was expelled until it agreed to drop the word “marriage.” In the summer of 1990 Roxanne Seagraves and Cris South asked to be married under the care of the Chapel Hill Friends Meeting.
For Quakers, decision-making naturally reflects their tenet that God abides in every person. They do not look to a hierarchy for direction—each meeting is autonomous, and itself devoid of an internal power structure. Their process of arriving at “clearness” involves every single member of the meeting. The author tells of a meeting in Cleveland that after eight years was still undecided on the issue of marrying two lesbians in their group. At Chapel Hill, a Clearness Committee was selected for Cris and Roxanne's marriage which consisted of seven members, a greater number than usual. The issue was explored in every constituent group in the Chapel Hill Meeting. Within those groups members expressed such concerns as legal ramifications in North Carolina; the attraction of a predominantly homosexual membership; and using the word “marriage.” Within six month the Committee reached the unanimous decision to celebrate Cris and Roxanne's “holy union.”
A Challenge for the Process: Durham Friends Meeting
Jim Gilkeson was born Presbyterian, but educated in a Quaker high school. While in college Jim found the Durham Friends Meeting and soon initiated the clearness process for his membership therein. He later spent two years in Atlanta attending graduate school, and there he became active in the gay political scene. Upon returning to Durham, Jim came out at meeting and was well received. The following year the Durham Meeting began revising its “Faith and Practice Document,” which had not been changed since the 1950s. While no one had ever requested a gay or lesbian marriage, several members believed that such a request might occur at any time and that they should be prepared for that to happen.
Forums were established for education and exploration relative to homosexual marriage. Jim participated in the design of the following short, Quaker-style questionnaire intended to spark discussion around concerns or fears:
1. Do we welcome couples of the same gender to apply for marriage under the care of the meeting?
2. Do we support gay and lesbian members/attenders (sic) and their families in the added struggles which they may face due to others' reactions to their sexual preference/orientation?
3. Do we appreciate the openness of lesbians and gay men who share their identities with us?
4. Do we provide gay and lesbian role models for the children in our meeting?
5. Do we welcome the notion that some of the children in our meeting will discover that they are lesbian or gay at some point in their lives?
Once the forums ended, the question of G/L marriage was ignored for the most part. The discussions had been difficult, and no one was eager to pursue the matter until called to do so around an actual case. This offended Jim, as he planned to one day be united with a partner in marriage. He drifted away for a while, but returned when the meeting decided to resolve the issue once and for all. The Ministry and Counsel Committee set a deadline of six months to finalize the marriage document, which they did in the fall of 1993. It was not long before Jim and his partner of four years asked to be married under the care of the meeting. Jim's Clearness Committee met a number of times, and with the help of its members Jim and his partner reached clearness that they should not get married.
Race, the Vatican, and Inclusiveness: Holy Cross
Holy Cross is a Black Catholic church founded in 1938. Being a Jesuit mission, Holy Cross survived extinction during the integration movement of the 1950s, as it was not accountable to the Bishop. Over the decades Holy Cross has, on a number of occasions, struggled to maintain its unique place as a black Catholic church in the community. In the late 1960s, gay and lesbian Roman Catholics in Los Angeles founded Dignity, a group that grew to more than 4,000 members by 1992. A chapter of Dignity emerged in the Raleigh/Durham area in the early 1970s. The new group was even welcomed by the bishop who, along with members the local priesthood, took turns saying mass for Dignity in its various meeting locations. As the group's visibility grew, conservatives in the community responded by asking the bishop to quell Dignity's advertising in Roman Catholic publications.
In 1986 Pope John Paul II approved and Cardinal Ratzinger signed a letter on behalf of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) directing Catholic bishops to resist all manner of civil rights protection for gays and lesbians. Bishop Gossman in Durham immediately ceased communication with the local Dignity chapter, and turned a blind eye to the priests who continued to work with its members. By the following year it had become increasingly difficult for Dignity to rotate among locations, and when the chapter asked Father Bavinger for a permanent meeting place at Holy Cross, he consented (it bears mentioning that this Dignity chapter was exclusively caucasian). In 1992 the CDF issued a second letter to Catholic bishops instructing them not only to oppose civil rights legislation for gays and lesbians, but to actively support the reversal of any nondiscrimination statutes already in place. When the matter was put to a vote before the Parish Council at Holy Cross, Dignity found itself expelled from its meeting space. Father Bavinger attributed the expulsion more to race than to sexual politics—i.e., the negative publicity Dignity might bring to Holy Cross would ultimately threaten its integrity as a black church, putting the congregation at risk of losing its unique position and long-standing tradition in the community. Hartman reports that as of the time of his writing, this Dignity chapter was on the verge of extinction.
Epilogue
Hartman maintains that despite appearances to the contrary, gay and lesbian people are becoming more accepted in society and in churches. Religious homophobia expressed via the media is a good sign, he believes, because it proves churches are paying attention to the changing times and growing acceptance, whereas before, churches could afford to be complacent as no one ever challenged them. Hartman also predicts the division within the Church will not be mended for some time. Many denominations will support homosexuality while others will continue to oppose it. In the meantime, Hartman ponders over how to best handle the specific cases that must be dealt with on what is becoming an ongoing basis. He proposes the following framework for addressing G/L related disputes churches will undoubtedly face:
1. Intergenerational conflict is likely to be a given. Younger generations are more accustomed to gay and lesbian people. To older members it may still be unfamiliar, and deemed marginal to mainstream experience. Having a pro- gay/lesbian older member is greatly advantageous, as he or she may have influence on the older membership.
2. Ministers who have a long history of pastoring their church have an advantage over new clergy.
3. Pastors should not make decisions without including their congregants. Once asked, the membership has no choice but to participate in the controversy, and will hopefully learn something in the process. Also, the minister is demonstrating her/his regard for the congregation.
4. Agree upon a definite plan of action, e.g., set a deadline; choose the type of venue; decide what will be studied; and detail how voting will take place.
5. Organize gatherings in the spirit of “searching for truth” as opposed to “debating the issues.” This way is less oppositional. It is working together toward a solution, not trying to win an argument.
6. Don't lose sight of the solidarity that has held the members together as a congregation. Underscore the idea that community overarches singular issues that sometimes arise.
CONGREGATIONS IN CONFLICT is of crucial importance to GLBT Studies as a discipline, and to every individual who has struggled in the tension between spirituality and sexuality. Keith Hartman takes his study out of the realm of theory and into the real world of conflict and resolution. This text provides living examples of faith communities who have answered challenges related to homosexuality, and survived to tell about it. Hartman shows clearly that there is not a singular Christian stance on homosexuality. First of all, each denomination holds different views on homosexuality; second, within denominations there exist differing opinions on the issue; and third, that which seems grounded in ideology is not always reflected in practice. Each church, in its own way, illustrates creative and effective ways of dealing with issues of gay and lesbian membership, ordination, marriage, child- rearing, and politics. In the majority of cases contained in this volume, it is proven that education is a powerful means of reducing homophobia, and that although the religious front is not a monolithic power in whose shadow we stand, it is a formidable presence we must reckon with, hence our persistence must never waiver.
commenting closed for this article