IGF CultureWatch

After last week's General Convention of The Episcopal Church, held in Columbus, Ohio, gay attendees and their allies were taking a while to absorb its meaning. As friends of mine on the scene noted, the worst did not happen. No resolution was adopted expressing regret or apology for the election of Gene Robinson as a bishop in 2003. Nor was a resolution adopted halting the development of rites for same-sex unions. Also, gay-supportive Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori of Nevada was elected the first woman presiding bishop.

On the other hand, the day after the Convention voted to reject the anti-gay Windsor Report, bishops (with help from Jefferts Schori, and using what many have called heavy-handed tactics) pushed through a resolution "to engage in a process of healing and reconciliation," and to "call upon Standing Committees and bishops with jurisdiction to exercise restraint by not consenting to the consecration of any candidate to the episcopate whose manner of life presents a challenge to the wider church and will lead to further strains on communion."

Bishop Robinson writes, "The scene of gay and lesbian deputies, willing to fall on their own swords for the presumed good of the Church, voting for this resolution against their own self-interest was an act of self-sacrifice that I won't soon forget.

"Keeping us in conversation with the Anglican Communion was the goal - for which the price was declaring gay and lesbian people unfit material for the episcopate. Only time will tell whether or not even that was accomplished. Within minutes - yes, MINUTES - the conservatives both within our Church and in Africa declared our sacrificial action woefully inadequate. It felt like a kick in the teeth...."

The Anglican Primate of Nigeria, Peter Akinola, a leader of the right-wing forces, concluded a June 23 open letter to the Episcopal Church USA with this: "We assure all those Scripturally faithful dioceses and congregations alienated and marginalised within your Provincial structure that we have heard their cries." That's like a guy confiding in you that he intends to marry your wife after she divorces you. Akinola seeks reconciliation the way a predator does with its prey. This is not about theology, it is about power, and gay issues are merely a pretext for the power grab.

These are the makings of a schism. The Western branches of the Communion can hardly allow themselves to be overrun by medieval obscurantism in the name of unity. As Akinola himself stated after the destruction of Christian churches in northern Nigeria by Islamist thugs, "From all indications, it is very clear now that the sacrifices of the Christians in this country for peaceful co-existence with people of other faiths has [sic] been sadly misunderstood to be weakness."

How right you are, Eminence. The impulse toward compromise on the part of tolerant progressives is exploited by intolerant conservatives who have no interest in compromise. There is no reason why continuing a conversation should require unilateral concessions. The appeasement in Columbus was reminiscent of the signing of the Munich Agreement by Neville Chamberlain in 1938. The difference in this case is that the appeased aggressor won't bother to sign a phony peace agreement.

Colin Slee, the Dean of Southwark Cathedral, contrasts Akinola's obsession over homosexuality with his church's relative silence regarding Nigeria's "massive abuse of women, polygamy, female mutilation and stoning for adultery." In the Gospel of John, of course, when the scribes and Pharisees cite Mosaic law calling for an adulterous woman to be stoned, Jesus replies, "Let the one who has not sinned cast the first stone." But Akinola is far more in sympathy with the Pharisees.

The current acrimony's roots lie in the 1998 Lambeth Conference, which, as retired Bishop John Shelby Spong writes, "was overwhelmed by a homophobic combination of first world Anglican evangelicals with third world Bible quoting Anglican fundamentalists."

More recently, the Windsor Commission called for the 38 national branches of the Anglican Communion to endorse "current Anglican teaching." To the contrary, Spong notes that the Anglican Church "has never recognized an infallible pope or an inerrant Bible," and asks, "Would those Anglicans who have engaged critical biblical scholarship be asked to subscribe to the pre-modern mindset of some third world countries that oppose evolution, interpret the Virgin Birth as literal biology or view the Resurrection as a physical resuscitation?"

The problem is not disunity, but dogmatism. Some people are convinced that they have a lock on divine truth, and that it lies in a literal-minded reading of the Bible. This does not resemble Anglicanism. Others, who value the past two centuries of biblical scholarship as well as extra-Biblical sources such as the reality of God's creation, recognize that as mortals we can never possess the knowledge of God, but can only seek greater understanding. As Bishop Spong observes, "Whenever growth occurs there is always conflict and dislocation." This happened previously over the issue of women bishops. Quite simply, the children of the Enlightenment have to stand and fight for it.

The prophet Ezekiel spoke against false prophets: "They have misled my people by saying 'Peace!' when there is no peace. Instead of my people rebuilding the wall, these men come and slap on plaster. Tell these plasterers: It will rain hard, it will hail, it will blow a gale, and down will come the wall."

Let it come down.

On June 13, someone set fire to the gay/lesbian special collection at the John Merlo branch of the Chicago Public Library, destroying about 75-80 of the 800 books in the collection before the fire was extinguished.

Library administration spokeswoman Maggie Killackey downplayed the fire and a police spokeswoman said it was not a hate crime because there were no prior threats or anti-gay graffiti, as if that were sufficient to rule out anti-gay intent.

Most gays, however, noticing the timing just before the Gay Pride Parade and the Gay Games in Chicago, viewed the fire as an attempt to attack gays and mounted a sustained effort to draw media attention to the fire. Gratifyingly, television stations visited the library, interviewed gay spokesmen and covered a June 20 protest denouncing the police.

On June 21, police announced the arrest of a 21 year old pregnant, homeless woman with a long arrest record who said she wanted to protest the library's refusal to let her to sleep in the library. She said she did not know what books she burned but chose books in a secluded part of the library.

To gays familiar with Chicago police practices, the quick arrest of a suspect after major negative publicity, a homeless person at that, smacked of "round up the usual suspects." But the woman reportedly bragged to friends about setting the fire.

Police said, "What she did in her mind was little. She realized it got a lot bigger than she intended." If that means she bragged about the fire after noticing the media coverage or the man who reported her realized from the publicity that the fire was a major issue, or the woman meant that police intensified their efforts after all the publicity (as they did), all those suggest that the media attention and political pressure produced an arrest. Activism worked.

The fire raises concerns about the safety of the library and the gay collection. There seems to be no surveillance camera in the library entryway, so police could not determine who had come and gone near the time of the fire. Library security guards are there only part time. Patrons in the library at the time said smoke detectors did not go off. And the gay books might wisely be moved to a less secluded location.

But the pressing issue now is the Chicago Public Library's (CPL) offensive and dismissive policy of not accepting donated books. That policy must be revised.

With amazing speed to stanch bad publicity, within two weeks the CPL reordered books that could still be identified. But gay community members insisted that the collection not only be reconstituted but be expanded to better meet local needs and interests as well as send a warning to homophobes that attacks on gays will be countered with a greater positive response.

Yet when people brought books to branch libraries, they were told that the CPL does not accept donated books and their offers were rejected. (Do not blame branch libraries--they do not control policy.) This policy has created growing anger as people learn about it. Although people are still sympathetic with the Merlo branch which supports the unique gay collection people are increasingly angry at the elitist downtown administration.

At the June 20 demonstration, library spokeswoman Killackey complained to me with evident irritation, "People are bringing books to libraries all over Chicago." Stunned, I could only think to reply, "It's a shame libraries are getting more books."

Killackey's main rationale for the policy is that processing books "is not an efficient use of staff time." Yet it takes about 10 seconds for a subject area specialist to determine whether a book would be a useful addition and five minutes or less to process it if the Chicago system already has a copy anywhere else in the system. Clearly a bargain. If no Chicago library currently owns the book, it takes about a half hour to process it. But if the library can get a free $50-$60 university press book (a typical price for specialized books) for a half hour of processing time, that too seems like a bargain.

And the no-donations policy seems to be unique among libraries in the U.S. New York, Los Angeles, and Philadelphia told me they all accept and consider books donations. They leave it up to specialist librarians whether to add donated books to their collection based on the condition of the book, its value to the collection, and their current need. Reasonable enough.

Gays and lesbians in other cities who wish to help can donate funds for the Merlo gay book fund at the website of the Chicago Public library Foundation (www.chicagopubliclibraryfoundation.org). They would also be wise to learn from Chicago's sour experience. Consider donating library-appropriate gay and lesbian books in good condition to your local library. Talk with the librarian first to make sure they can be added to the collection, but please help expand the range of materials available for gays, students and other people who wish to learn about gay history and gay issues or wish to explore the gay/lesbian literary heritage.

For Chicagoans, the following are some possible responses: Write to Library Commissioner Mary Dempsey to urge revision of the policy. Write to Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley since Dempsey is a close ally. Donate gay books to any branch library you like (they could all use more) and let them cope with the problem. Call or write 44th Ward Alderman Tom Tunney (the Merlo branch is in his ward) and ask his help. Consider an informational picket outside Harold Washington Library downtown: The CPL honchos richly deserve the negative publicity they would get.

I got a very strange phone call last week.

A woman from a marketing and design firm called. I had been recommended to her, she said, as a good writer who had done work for non-profits.

Yes, I said.

She asked me if I would be available to work as a freelancer on a three-year project for a capital campaign.

Yep, I said.

Then she said: "You know, before we go further, I should ask you something."

OK? I said.

She paused.

"How do you feel about working for an evangelical institution?"

Now I paused.

For a very long time.

"An evangelical Christian institution?" I asked. "Like a church?"

"An evangelical Christian institution," she said.

I almost laughed.

My first thought was---Are you kidding me?

But then I started thinking about other things.

There are, of course, circumstances under which I would not write. I would not write for an institution that included anti-gay work as part of its mission.

I think we have a responsibility, as talented gay and lesbian people, not to contribute our gifts toward people and institutions who actively work against us, no matter how much we need the work or how much we might get paid.

But.

But should I turn work-or any sort of association-down just because the institution is evangelical?

My kind of work, of course, is different from other kinds of work. I don't construct buildings or add up numbers, objective things that would likely produce a similar outcome no matter who does it.

My kind of work is persuasive-that is, when I write for non-profits, it's usually my job to connect with an audience in such a strong, emotional way that they will apply to the school or come to an event or call their local politco or send money.

And I was recommended to this woman because I can be very, very persuasive.

So this, really, became a serious moral question for me. Could I take a job that would involve me raising support for an evangelical institution?

I had a quick vision of sitting in a room with a bunch of suited evangelicals. Me, with my multi-colored hair and multi-pierced ears, with my liberal opinions and my willing mouth to voice them.

I almost laughed again.

Then I thought: Well, why not? An institution could be (and now I believe that this one, in fact, is) a college and I'm a strong believer in education. Actually, I know lots of good people, gay and straight, who were educated at evangelical or Catholic colleges. Some experienced openness and acceptance, some didn't.

Yet on balance, I think that evangelical schools do a lot of good work. Maybe not for us-but in the world.

That's the thing I think we forget when we have a whiplash response toward evangelicals. We don't trust them, right? We are sure that they hate us (and yes, some of them do). We are convinced that one of their primary motivations is to eliminate us and destroy our happiness. We think that the way they conceive of the role of women and families is backward and regressive. Many of us think that evangelicals are evil.

But that can't be true-or at least, it can't be true of all of them nor of all evangelical institutions.

I think this is one of our big problems. Gays and lesbians are a large voting block (some say 5 percent). Evangelicals are a larger voting block (about 23 percent). They may not need us-but you know what?

We probably need them.

Perhaps we should start thinking about evangelicals not as evil but as misguided. Think how much good that 23 percent voting block could do! They could get us universal health care! They could make inroads into immigration reform!

Perhaps we should think of evangelicals not as adversaries but as potential partners. Perhaps they need to be persuaded that their time, money and energy is better spent on real problems facing America---problems that Jesus might have cared deeply about, like poor education systems, expensive health care and few affordable housing options.

But if we never work together or associate with each other, how will we ever find common ground on these issues or any others?

Once I started thinking along these lines, I started thinking about this job as a possible educational opportunity. Maybe I could win these suited evangelicals over.

"Are you there?" the woman on the phone said.

"I don't have a problem working for an evangelical institution," I said. "But they may have a problem with me. I'm an open lesbian. I write a column in the gay press."

"Well," she said. "I don't know how much respect you would get in that room. Let me talk to them and call you back."

I haven't heard from her.

It's too bad.

As the Capital Pride parade turns the corner of R Street and 17th, my friends and I stand on our chairs on the patio of Dupont Italian Kitchen and cheer the marchers on. Leading off the parade is the Gay and Lesbian Liaison Unit of the Metropolitan Police Department, running their sirens to cheers from the crowd. They are followed by more than a dozen local candidates, as well as the gay marching band, gay-welcoming ministries, athletes preparing for the Gay Games, floats with bodybuilders and drag queens and two-stepping cowboys, and various groups marching behind their banners. As always, the biggest cheers are for the PFLAG parents.

I'm not sure whether it's the arrival of June, the recent change in the political climate, or sheer resilience that makes the crowd's disposition so sunny. Given how much harm the radical right has done to faith, flag and family in the very name of those things, those of us who have been their principal scapegoats would have ample reason to be angry. But I was more depressed than angry a few days earlier, as the U.S. Senate began the week by debating whether to write gay families out of the Constitution.

It wasn't that the Marriage Prevention Amendment (as it ought to be called) had any chance of passage. I was thinking of my lover Patrick, whose permanent asylum application was recently denied by Belgium. If he loses his appeal, he faces deportation back to Africa. One of his uncles there attacked him with a knife four years ago, after learning that he was gay and was involved with me. Patrick fought back, and a few days later I helped him escape Africa. Unable to bring him here to the U.S., all I can do now is help pay his lawyer and hope that the weeks pass quickly until I can see him again.

The day before the Senate vote, civil rights leaders and anti-gay ministers held separate press conferences on the U.S. Senate grounds. Among those gathered by the Human Rights Campaign for the pro-gay event, in addition to the usual talking points, Sen. Edward Kennedy (D-MA) expressed pride in the human rights legacy of his state's constitution, and in the Goodridge decision that continues it. Rep. John Lewis (D-GA) used words he has used many times, calling on his nation to be "one people, one family, one house, the American house, the American family, the American nation."

At the anti-gay rally earlier in the day, Bishop Harry Jackson of Bowie, Maryland, claimed that same-sex marriage would increase the number of black children without a mother and a father. He did not explain how this would happen. Speaking at the HRC rally, Rev. Nathan Harris of D.C.'s Lincoln Congregational Temple said, "Heterosexual marriage has done a good job on its own of falling apart."

I thanked Rep. Lewis after the HRC rally, and he expressed optimism about the coming election. Whenever I meet him, I marvel anew at the fortitude that enabled him to survive the Freedom Rides and Bloody Sunday four decades ago, and at the good fortune of gay Americans in having such a steadfast ally in this civil rights hero. In his quiet determination and grace I recognize qualities that impressed me about Patrick.

When our personal journeys include fighting for equality as gay people, they can bring estrangement from our families. For many of us, risking that estrangement was an essential part of asserting ourselves, of coming into our own. But a necessary step is not the same as the goal. However far we travel, we often feel the presence of our birth families as we form families of our own. The shared values endure after the fighting is over.

The same is true for us politically as we fight for legal protections that others take for granted, because the people we need to win over include members of our own families. As is illustrated by the ubiquitous story of the disastrous Thanksgiving dinner, sometimes our families can bring out the worst in us, and we find ourselves pouring salt on old wounds. When you have so much shared history with people, it can be hard to turn over a new page. Winning votes among this constituency is politics at its most retail.

Standing near my friends and me during the pride parade is a straight black couple with a toddler of perhaps 18 months. The little boy jumps up and down and claps as he watches a colorful float go by, and there is no sign that his parents see this any differently than an old-fashioned Fourth of July parade. He has not learned to hate, and Mom and Dad show no sign of intending to teach him. In that child, I glimpse our future.

Despite all that my Patrick has gone through with his family, and his strength and resolve in standing up for himself, he still feels strong family ties. He misses his brother terribly. Once when I was with him in Brussels, he learned of the death of a family member. I could feel his anguish at not being able to be there. We decided to send money to help with the funeral expenses, a customary obligation. Prior to that, I was merely Patrick's lover. With that simple act, for the first time, and whether they liked it or not, I was family.