GOOD WORDS III...
Michael Nava writes:
My aunt and uncle have also been generous and loving to me. They've met my boyfriends, read my books, and talked to me honestly about a family from which, other than them, I am estranged. I don't remember how it came up, but I was once talking to my aunt about her marriage and she said, "If Edward wasn't a Christian, we would have been divorced a long time ago."
Normally, when I hear the word "Christian," my hackles rise, and from that point on, I simply stop listening. In my world, Christianity is not something to be embraced, it's something to be resisted. But because it was my aunt speaking and I know she is without prejudice against gays or anyone for that matter, I had to relax my own prejudice against Christians to hear what she was saying.
What she meant, I think, is this: Both she and my uncle grew up poor and rough, without much education or many prospects, and he, particularly, was a hell-raiser, as only perhaps a preacher's son can be. Had my uncle not been "born again," and accepted the moral strictures of Christianity into his life, their marriage would have fallen apart over the first crisis. Instead, they are approaching their fourth decade together...
I lived with a man named Bill for nine years. One night, not long after we met, we were lying in bed and I looked into his eyes and saw a love and acceptance so deep that I felt forgiven for the fear, shame, anxiety, and confusion I had constructed around being gay. It wasn't Bill by whom I felt forgiven, but by love. In that instant, I understood completely what Paul meant when he wrote to the Corinthians, "There is nothing love cannot face; there is no limit to its faith, its hope, its endurance."
I date my coming out from that night. Although I'd had sex with other men for many years before I met Bill, it wasn't until that moment that I "came out" from behind my fear long enough to risk being loved by another man and to love in return. From that time on, it became clearer and clearer to me that loving and being loved are the true purpose of my sexuality and not the pursuit of sex.
As long as I believed that homosexuality was simply sexual activity, it was peripheral to my struggle to define myself and and my values. When I understood that my being gay had less to do with sex than with an an expression of love that began with the physical but went beyond it, I could accept being gay in a way I never had before. More. than that, I could fight for my right to be open in my intimate relationships and to have them accepted and honored. I was able to imagine for myself a whole life, one in which the division between public and private was one that I chose, not one that was imposed on me by a hostile society and my own shame. What my uncle found in his Bible when he was born again and what I saw in Bill's eyes that allowed me to come out from behind my fear and shame had similar effects on our lives.
Being "born again" and "coming out" are transcendent experiences that produce a profound change in perception. You never look at yourself, your life, or your culture in the same way again. Much of what you have been taught is true is revealed to be false. Self-approval becomes infinitely more important than the approval of other people. You feel enormous relief when you surrender the baggage of shame and guilt produced by living a life that was not true to your experience of yourself. You look for a community that will support and reinforce your new direction, your new ideas, and your new identity. These experiences are common to evangelicals and gays and separate them from much of the rest of the culture.
So why is it that we are screaming at each other across police barricades? The current political struggle between Christian evangelicals, on the one hand, and gay and lesbian activists, on the other, is not, ultimately, about "family values" or sexual practices. It is a struggle between those whose moral lives are guided by an external authority and those whose lives are guided by an inward truth.
What makes the struggle so bitter is that both groups believe, on the basis of their personal transcendent experience, that their moral truths are absolute... Both born-agains and gays believe they have a piece of the truth, one they have paid for with their suffering, and neither is willing to surrender that truth because to do so would be tantamount to surrendering that self. What I am saying is that spiritual consciousness is reached by many paths, and one's truth is not less true because not everyone shares it...
Evangelicals must realize thaht the scriptural precepts by which they live their lives cannot be imposed on people who don't share them without fatally compromising the democratic ideal. They don't have to accept homosexuality, but they must accept that part of their responsibility as American citizens is to put up with people they don't like just as people who find their views distasteful must put up with them. Unlike Jesus, our democracy doesn't require people to love their neighbors, but it does draw the line at throwing rocks at them.
Gays will have to accept the fact that, separation of Church and State notwithstanding, most Americans call themselves Christian and do not accept the proposition that homosexuality is the moral equivalent of heterosexuality. This is not to say that gays should give up their struggle for civil equality, but they must recognize that gaining civil rights is not the same as winnig moral acceptance.
Whether Christianity will ever relax its condemnation of homosexuality is something to be decided within the various sects and denominations of which Christianity is comprised; those debates should have no bearing on the civil rights of gay people. On the other hand, if gays and lesbians want to be included in the polity, they must also realize that issues of personal morality are legitimate areas of public debate and public policy-making and agree to be governed by those decisions so long as they are applied even-handedly. If, for example, gays and lesbians win the right to legal marriage with all its benefits, they must also agree to accept its responsibilities and burdens, because citizenship is a two-way street.
I don't know whether any of this will actually happen. The battle lines seem more fixed and heavily defended every day. If, however, gays and fundamentalists are willing to see the similarities in their experience, they can begin to move toward some acceptance of their differences.
Michael Nava is a lawyer and novelist. He worked with the Los Angeles City Attorney’s Office, a prestigious private appellate law firm, and then as a research attorney first with the California Court of Appeal and now with the California Supreme Court as a judicial staff attorney for Associate Justice Carlos Moreno.
While studying for the California Bar right out of law school, Nava started writing his first book which began his seven-volume mystery series featuring his openly gay protagonist, Henry Rios. His novels were published to great critical acclaim and include The Little Death, Goldenboy, How Town, The Hidden Law, The Death of Friends, The Burning Plain and Rag and Bone.
His first book was rejected by fifteen publishers before it was picked up by a small gay publishing house, Alyson. Nava has since been published by Penguin Putnam, HarperCollins and Ballantine. He also notes that “it’s wonderful that Latinos became the largest segment of the population in California; that betokens a demographic shift that will have very interesting consequences for the people living here.” He lives in West Hollywood.
,
Normally, when I hear the word "Christian," my hackles rise, and from that point on, I simply stop listening. In my world, Christianity is not something to be embraced, it's something to be resisted. But because it was my aunt speaking and I know she is without prejudice against gays or anyone for that matter, I had to relax my own prejudice against Christians to hear what she was saying.
What she meant, I think, is this: Both she and my uncle grew up poor and rough, without much education or many prospects, and he, particularly, was a hell-raiser, as only perhaps a preacher's son can be. Had my uncle not been "born again," and accepted the moral strictures of Christianity into his life, their marriage would have fallen apart over the first crisis. Instead, they are approaching their fourth decade together...
I lived with a man named Bill for nine years. One night, not long after we met, we were lying in bed and I looked into his eyes and saw a love and acceptance so deep that I felt forgiven for the fear, shame, anxiety, and confusion I had constructed around being gay. It wasn't Bill by whom I felt forgiven, but by love. In that instant, I understood completely what Paul meant when he wrote to the Corinthians, "There is nothing love cannot face; there is no limit to its faith, its hope, its endurance."
I date my coming out from that night. Although I'd had sex with other men for many years before I met Bill, it wasn't until that moment that I "came out" from behind my fear long enough to risk being loved by another man and to love in return. From that time on, it became clearer and clearer to me that loving and being loved are the true purpose of my sexuality and not the pursuit of sex.
As long as I believed that homosexuality was simply sexual activity, it was peripheral to my struggle to define myself and and my values. When I understood that my being gay had less to do with sex than with an an expression of love that began with the physical but went beyond it, I could accept being gay in a way I never had before. More. than that, I could fight for my right to be open in my intimate relationships and to have them accepted and honored. I was able to imagine for myself a whole life, one in which the division between public and private was one that I chose, not one that was imposed on me by a hostile society and my own shame. What my uncle found in his Bible when he was born again and what I saw in Bill's eyes that allowed me to come out from behind my fear and shame had similar effects on our lives.
Being "born again" and "coming out" are transcendent experiences that produce a profound change in perception. You never look at yourself, your life, or your culture in the same way again. Much of what you have been taught is true is revealed to be false. Self-approval becomes infinitely more important than the approval of other people. You feel enormous relief when you surrender the baggage of shame and guilt produced by living a life that was not true to your experience of yourself. You look for a community that will support and reinforce your new direction, your new ideas, and your new identity. These experiences are common to evangelicals and gays and separate them from much of the rest of the culture.
So why is it that we are screaming at each other across police barricades? The current political struggle between Christian evangelicals, on the one hand, and gay and lesbian activists, on the other, is not, ultimately, about "family values" or sexual practices. It is a struggle between those whose moral lives are guided by an external authority and those whose lives are guided by an inward truth.
What makes the struggle so bitter is that both groups believe, on the basis of their personal transcendent experience, that their moral truths are absolute... Both born-agains and gays believe they have a piece of the truth, one they have paid for with their suffering, and neither is willing to surrender that truth because to do so would be tantamount to surrendering that self. What I am saying is that spiritual consciousness is reached by many paths, and one's truth is not less true because not everyone shares it...
Evangelicals must realize thaht the scriptural precepts by which they live their lives cannot be imposed on people who don't share them without fatally compromising the democratic ideal. They don't have to accept homosexuality, but they must accept that part of their responsibility as American citizens is to put up with people they don't like just as people who find their views distasteful must put up with them. Unlike Jesus, our democracy doesn't require people to love their neighbors, but it does draw the line at throwing rocks at them.
Gays will have to accept the fact that, separation of Church and State notwithstanding, most Americans call themselves Christian and do not accept the proposition that homosexuality is the moral equivalent of heterosexuality. This is not to say that gays should give up their struggle for civil equality, but they must recognize that gaining civil rights is not the same as winnig moral acceptance.
Whether Christianity will ever relax its condemnation of homosexuality is something to be decided within the various sects and denominations of which Christianity is comprised; those debates should have no bearing on the civil rights of gay people. On the other hand, if gays and lesbians want to be included in the polity, they must also realize that issues of personal morality are legitimate areas of public debate and public policy-making and agree to be governed by those decisions so long as they are applied even-handedly. If, for example, gays and lesbians win the right to legal marriage with all its benefits, they must also agree to accept its responsibilities and burdens, because citizenship is a two-way street.
I don't know whether any of this will actually happen. The battle lines seem more fixed and heavily defended every day. If, however, gays and fundamentalists are willing to see the similarities in their experience, they can begin to move toward some acceptance of their differences.
Michael Nava is a lawyer and novelist. He worked with the Los Angeles City Attorney’s Office, a prestigious private appellate law firm, and then as a research attorney first with the California Court of Appeal and now with the California Supreme Court as a judicial staff attorney for Associate Justice Carlos Moreno.While studying for the California Bar right out of law school, Nava started writing his first book which began his seven-volume mystery series featuring his openly gay protagonist, Henry Rios. His novels were published to great critical acclaim and include The Little Death, Goldenboy, How Town, The Hidden Law, The Death of Friends, The Burning Plain and Rag and Bone.
His first book was rejected by fifteen publishers before it was picked up by a small gay publishing house, Alyson. Nava has since been published by Penguin Putnam, HarperCollins and Ballantine. He also notes that “it’s wonderful that Latinos became the largest segment of the population in California; that betokens a demographic shift that will have very interesting consequences for the people living here.” He lives in West Hollywood.
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Wow...this is pretty interesting stuff. I never saw it that way...not sure if I agree still, though it's pretty damn convincing perspective. I guess it's because I feel Christianity isn't necessarily true but perhaps a smaller piece, while being gay just is?, though I see the feelings are similiar...
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