A few weeks ago I was in Ripon, Wisconsin, for a same-sex
marriage debate with Glenn Stanton of Focus on the Family, when the
Ted Haggard story broke. Haggard, then president of the National
Association of Evangelicals and pastor of the massive New Life
Church in Colorado Springs, was being accused by former Denver
prostitute Ted Jones of having regular drug-fueled gay trysts with
Jones over a period of several years.
"So, do you think there's anything to this?" I asked Stanton,
who told me that Haggard was not only his pastor but also a
friend.
"No way," he replied. (At the time no tapes had yet been
released, and Haggard was denying the story.) "It's just
incongruous. John, it would be like finding out that you secretly
have a wife and family in the suburbs. No."
(Betty, if you're reading this, be sure to get Timmy a haircut
before his little-league game this weekend, and give Mary Jane a
kiss from Daddy.)
Kidding aside, my reaction to the story's unfolding was marked
more by sadness than schadenfreude. I could see the shock on my
friend and opponent Glenn Stanton's face the next day, as further
revelations made it increasingly clear that Haggard was pretty much
guilty as charged. I was sad for Haggard, sad for his family, and
sad for all the people he had mislead.
But he deserved his downfall, didn't he? Certainly. Here was a
leader in a movement that actively fights gay rights. Haggard
openly proclaimed that the Bible tells us everything we need to
know about homosexuality -- namely, that it's just plain wrong. And
as president of the National Association of Evangelicals, he helped
to spread this view far and wide--apparently carrying on an affair
with a male prostitute all the while.
So I wasn't surprised that many relished his fall from grace. A
few days after returning from my trip I ran into a friend who, upon
my mentioning Haggard's name, gleefully started dancing and singing
"Another one bites the dust…" Schadenfreude--taking pleasure at the
misfortune of others--is a natural human tendency, especially when
those others are royal hypocrites. And it's not just schadenfreude,
it's relief: one less person will be out there spreading lies about
gays (though others will doubtless take his place).
Haggard is Exhibit N in a recent line of examples of the dangers
of the closet. Some of them are Republicans, some Democrats; some
are religious leaders, some not. While their stories differ in
detail, they all highlight a major pitfall of trying to fight one's
gayness, rather than embracing it openly.
I am of course not saying that when heterosexually married
people act on homosexual desires, it automatically proves that they
ought to have been doing so all along. Whether they ought to have
been doing so depends, crucially, their own predominant sexual
orientation, as well as on the moral status of homosexual
conduct.
Nor am I saying, "If you don't let us be gay, then we will
become lying, cheating, predatory assholes." I am saying that a
world that doesn't provide healthy avenues for gay people to pursue
intimacy should not be terribly surprised when some turn to
unhealthy ones. Barney Frank put it well in a Newsweek interview
regarding the Mark Foley scandal: "Being in the closet doesn't make
you do dumb things, doesn't justify you doing dumb things, it just
makes them likelier."
Of course, there are non-closeted people who (like Haggard and
former New Jersey Governor Jim McGreevey) commit adultery or (like
Foley) chase after sixteen-year-old employees. But it doesn't
follow that the closet is not a contributing factor, any more than
non-smokers with cancer disprove that smoking increases cancer
risk. It's common sense, really: double lives are a recipe for
danger. There are other recipes, to be sure, but this one's pretty
reliable.
Partly this is because the closet demands, not just a lie, but
an entire pattern of lies, which in turn make deception easier in
other areas of life. Partly it's because this pattern is
emotionally and spiritually draining. And partly it's because
deception poisons relationships, cutting one off from the friends
who could otherwise monitor one's behavior, offering support,
guidance, and an occasional good smack upside the head when
needed.
Haggard's much-needed smack did not come from his friends: it
came from a public scandal. In response, he plans to begin a
lengthy process of "spiritual restoration," which begins with
owning up to one's sins. And that saddens me too--not because I'm
against his (or anyone's) acknowledging fault, but because there's
good reason to believe that Haggard and his advisers will miss the
key ones. Homosexuality is not a sin. Making the world needlessly
more difficult for gay and lesbian people surely is.