An Old Emergence

An open letter to President Fisher and the Belmont University Board of Trust: Five years ago, I was part of a discussion group sponsored by the university to have “difficult dialogs” about Belmont and its treatment of LGBT students. At the time, I was newly out of the closet, a student in the School of Religion and CEMB, and an active leader of student organizations on campus. I was invited to be a part of this group that literally met underground (the symbolism was not lost on us even if it was unintentional) in response to the university denying the recognition of an LGBT student organization. However well intentioned this group may have been, it was a debacle. While I am thankful to this day for the myriad faculty and staff members who were involved in supporting the position of students like me, it was clear that the university was not actively listening to us as a minority within the population. Then, in the fall of 2010, Lisa Howe ceased to be employed at Belmont. I say, “c...

"It seems to me, a vagina—as a man—would be more desirable than a man's anus. That's just me. I'm just thinking: There's more there! She's got more to offer. I mean, come on dudes! You know what I'm saying? But hey, sin: It's not logical, my man. It's just not logical."       -Phil Robertson, GQ The outrage over comments made by Duck Commander’s Phil Robertson in GQ magazine has me somewhat perplexed. While I understand the anger and hurt the LGBT community feels when someone of celebrity status uses his platform to say hateful things about them, I am left wondering why people are shocked at his remarks. Mr. Robertson is a sexagenarian raised in the deep south of the Louisiana bayou who has built his fame on the creation of the best duck call in the world. Though I’m reluctant to box him into stereotypes in a similar manner as he did with the LGBT community, there are some important parts of the person he claims to be that leave me en...

I want to begin by saying that I’m writing from a place of anger, a place of hurt, and a place of pain. It takes a lot for me to find myself in this place, and it takes even more for me to write about it in such a public forum. But what I have to say needs to be said, and it needs to be said publicly. As I have often said, the training and instruction I received in theology during my undergraduate career centered on the concept of generosity. This generosity was to be extended in many directions, most importantly toward those with whom you most disagreed. This generosity was an emphatic must in a group of twenty-somethings debating the finer points of theology, but it was an important lesson learned for living life in a world of constant disagreement. However, generosity can only extend so far.

I have been dealing with a broken heart this evening. As I continue to encounter more and more hateful speech spewing from pulpits around the country, I've been left wondering where the voices in opposition are. I know many pastors and faith leaders who disagree with the teachings of Ron Baity, Charles Worley, Sean Harris, and many others. But where are their voices? Why can't I find them anywhere in the news. I understand how we sensationalize the macabre, but the LGBT community needs to hear the voices of those who affirm them from pulpits as well.

When I first listened to the remarks from Pastor Sean Harris of Berean Baptist Church in Fayetteville, NC, I was appalled. I have had the blessing of walking alongside several pastors over the last few years who have helped me forget that bigotry and hatred does often still flow from Baptist pulpits around the country. I listened to him recommend to fathers that “the second you see your son dropping the limp wrist you go over and you crack that wrist. Man up. Give him a good punch.” This quote (which exists only in the audio version of the sermon and not the transcript) along with the rest of his sermon (a 17-page transcript) left me furious.

In the days and weeks to come, I will have a more measured response to the tragedies of the last week. From the utter destruction in my home state of Alabama to the grievous celebrations surrounding the assassination of Osama bin Laden; it is truly a time for reflection and mourning. There are many conversations that must happen regarding faith and disaster, justice and murder, “good” and “evil”.

I alluded to something in my post yesterday about the person of Judas. As tomorrow marks the observance of Maundy Thursday, I find myself contemplating the progression of events that led to Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. As I was reading through the story a few days ago, I was struck by something that I had never really taken notice of before.

Let me be clear from the outset of this post: I thoroughly enjoy Lady Gaga’s music. I love that she advocates for the rights of LGBT people. I love that she is an entertainer, and that her music tells a story…even if that story is often just plain weird. I would give just about anything to meet her and/or attend one of her concerts. I find her music both provocative and addicting. However, Gaga is not a religious scholar.