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 Don’t Ask. Don’t Tell. A church Encounter.
Summary:
Two days on a church seminary brought me face to face with the pain of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policies that parallel military rules.
Excerpt from Straigtht Into Gay America:
All day I hope for a phone call offering a place to stay. I’ve left messages with the local PFLAG organization and with Princeton University’s office of gay and lesbian affairs.
In the end I get a call from a religious seminary on my route. The man on the phone asks some questions, trying to make sense of this ride. He’s a director on campus and invites me to stay in campus housing, “We’ve got a theological conference this week and a preaching conference, too. You can come and listen to the open sessions if you’d like.”
Gold mine. Almost everyone I’ve talked with, believer or not, inside of church or outside, happy or frustrated with their spiritual life, sticking with or moving on from organized church, lets me know religion is at the heart of queer rights. I’ve been wondering how to contact pastors and get these stories. Now I have an answer.
Arriving on campus after two more overheat rests, a lemonade, a cola, and a water, I step gratefully into the air-conditioning. “Here’s your key,” greets the student at the front desk, giving me directions to my room. “And here’s the schedule.”
Hot muggy air takes such energy to push through with One Wheel. Exhausted, I take a shower and fall asleep. Even after a thirty minute nap, I wake up weary.
Brownstone buildings, manicured lawns, and shade trees surround me as I walk across the seminary grounds. The director finds me and asks if I’d like to meet some gay pastors. “Of course,” I reply.
“Don’t ask; don’t tell,” says pastor A65, a Presbyterian, “That’s our policy.” I give him a cover number for my writing, even though he tells me, “I’m pretty free to talk about being gay. I serve a congregation near San Francisco. They know I’m gay and the senior pastor is supportive. I work with the national group for full inclusion in the Presbyterian church.”
“Don’t ask; don’t tell,” says pastor B32, a Methodist. He needs this cover number to hide his identity. Much of his life is a disguise. “If I’m discovered as a gay person, I’ll be finished—even if I continue to be celibate. My church assumes if we’re gay, we’re having sex.”
A straight Lutheran pastor, F93, tells of how she came to be an ally. I give her a cover number, too. She appears to have nothing to hide, but who knows? I feel the weight of difference amongst these pastors who keep disguises and those who can live openly. F93 tells me her story.
“I believed the scriptures were against homosexuality, and I was convinced gays were pushing a radical agenda. In my senior year I got a phone call from a religious anti-gay group. They were signing people up for their advocacy list, and the caller was assuming I agreed with him. It was so judgmental I ended up defending gay rights to that guy. I suddenly realized the implications of what I’d been saying and believing all my life. That was the beginning of my becoming an ally.”
A Canadian pastor, X18, tells me of the transgender organist who serves their congregation, of how seven of ten provinces have approved gay marriage, and of how gay marriage will soon be the law of the land. “yet 55% of Canadians still disapprove.”
A Presbyterian from Massachusetts, P46: “I’m stuck in a conflict. My state legalized gay marriage last year, but my church has not approved participating in gay marriage ceremonies. I haven’t been asked yet to officiate a gay wedding. When the time comes, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Don’t ask. Don’t tell.” These words usually apply to the military, where the policy has existed since President Clinton tried and failed to open the services to full participation for queer people. Since that policy was put in place, more queer officers and enlisted people have been removed from service than ever before. It feels strange to hear this conference of pastors using the military term, “Don’t ask. Don’t tell.” In the Lutheran, Methodist, and Presbyterian churches, all have held trials to remove queer pastors from their rosters. “Don’t ask; don’t tell,” in church? The words expose church politics more effectively than they hide queer pastors. |
Straight Into Gay America:
My Unicycle Journey for Equal Rights.
by Lars Clausen
(Soulscapers, 2006)
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