Stories.....

This semester I am taking a class on sexuality and the focus in the class is on homosexuality. Yesterday we had our first class and I was nervous about being in there. The issue is one that is so volatile and I wasn’t sure what people’s thought processes on the class were going to be and I went in not sure how the professors were going to approach the class. After the professors went over the syllabus and explained the class, Dean Wells explained that all 40 or so of us in the room were going to “bring a person into the room” that we were thinking about at that moment. The rationale was that we are all in this class for a reason, and there had to be someone we were thinking of. In order to protect those in the class who identify as LGBTQ, and those who might be questioning their own sexuality, the story could be in third person (if someone was taking the class for themselves). But Dean Wells really stressed that the person to bring into the room was someone who dealt with the issue of sexuality (particularly homosexuality). It was an amazing experience. Each person told a minute long story about someone they knew that was either lesbian, gay, affirming, non-affirming, and all the stories were powerful. Some people wanted to bring someone into the room that reacted out of fear and hate to people who had come out to them. Some people wanted to bring into the room those they had shunned because of their sexual orientation. Others wanted to bring those into the room that had died of aids. Others wanted to bring into the room those who had been shunned and cast out of the church. It was a powerful 40 minutes.

In thinking about the whole sharing time, I am reminded of the young man I brought into the room. He is a friend of mine and I have seen him grow up. He loves God and is committed to his faith in a way that is rarely seen. Last year he “came out” to me after a pastor had spat out hate speech from a pulpit. The anguish, hurt, and pain in his eyes tore my heart apart. I literally could not sleep that night. The pain he shared with me was deep, but it was this pain that often times led him closer to Christ. No, it wasn’t always easy, and yes he’d questioned a lot of things, but instead of running away from God, he ran into God’s loving arms, even when some in the Christian circle had told him that he could change. So, I wanted to bring him into the room. I wanted him to know that there were faithful people who would love him and cherish him for who he is.

The other story that stuck out to me was that of one of my friends. In the midst of her tears, she told a story about her cousin. The earliest memory she had of him was at his funeral. He wasn’t someone that her family talked about that much. She had seen pictures of him growing up and asked her mom who he was and her mom told her that it was her cousin. It wasn’t until later in life that she was told that her cousin had died of aids. It wasn’t something the family talked about. At the end of her story she said, “I wish I would have known him, because I would have loved him.” This is my friend’s reflection on why she brought her cousin into the room. “I thought about the question and thought about who I could 'bring into the room.' Who was I there for? Sure there were a lot of people that had influenced my decision on the course. But it was when I realized that I was there for the person that I knew the least, knew less than my friends, less than my sisters, it was when I realized that it was for Ronnie, that I cried."

She wasn’t the only person who was moved by tears in class. Many of us were. As we brought all of these people into the room, there was an overwhelming sense that the Holy Spirit was present with us. We were listening to people’s stories. We were listening to stories of joys and pains and insecurities and fears. We were listening to each other. It reminded me of a story by Sandy Sasso entitled, “God in Between”. In this story, Sasso talks about how God dwells in the midst of people as they listen to each other’s stories. It is a beautiful book and it is a beautiful sentiment. The Triune God dwells in the midst of narrative. God dwells between each of us as we tell our stories. In class, I felt the incarnational God that radically dwells in the world as the stories were told. I knew that God was present. What if this is what we did in our churches? What if we actually took time to listen to each other? What if we truly listened to people’s stories before we got defensive? What if we invoked those into our worship spaces that are excluded? What if we not only invoked them in stories, but actually allowed them to come into our churches to share their stories? Some are not ready to hear the stories of God’s beautiful children, but some are. I pray that we would become a people, a church, a community that took the time to listen to stories of not only LGBTQ persons, but to all those people that we exclude from our midst. I pray that we become a church that allows our radically incarnational God to manifest herself in our presence. If we did, the church would be different and our communities would be different. So let us listen to each other’s stories. Let us listen to the stories of those who are excluded. Let us encounter the radically incarnational God that calls us to live lives that are radically incarnational in a broken and hurting world, and hopefully we will be transformed by her radical and abundant grace.