HIV and Corporate Profit: Recognizing the needs of a Community

Jesus withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, "This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves." Jesus said to them, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." They replied, "We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish." And he said, "Bring them here to me." Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.
––Matthew 14:13–21, Lection for Proper 13A [August 3, 2014]

When I first moved to Boston in September of 2011 (some nine months after my diagnosis with HIV), I was not yet on an anti-retroviral medication. To be quite candid, I was afraid to start treatment. Despite the incredible reduction of side-effects caused by anti-retroviral treatment, I was weary of the cost. Starting an HIV medication can be something of a life-long commitment; in order for it to work the most effectively, total (or near total) adherence (that is, taking the medication every day, as prescribed) is requisite. Ceasing treatment often runs the risk of viral mutation and, therefore, resistance to medications. This was a proverbial plunge for which I was not ready.

Once established with a local HIV specialist, however, a medication was prescribed to me. My previous doctor in New York City had leaned on an older model of care. His stance was to wait to begin an anti-retroviral regimen until a patient's CD4 (or T-cell) count had dropped below about 300 (a count of 200 or fewer usually indicates the on-set of AIDS). This meant that, in theory, I could have gone many, many years without beginning medication, depending on my body's ability to handle the virus. My provider in Boston, however, introduced me to the notion of "Treatment as Prevention," a now standard approach to HIV care.

Treatment as Prevention relies on the now clinically verifiable notion that, in order to slow or even prevent the spread of HIV, a patient who is sero-positive should adhere to a medication so that the patient's viral load is suppressed to undetectable levels (or, what is called "undetectable viral load"). Studies have shown that HIV-positive patients who adhere to medication and maintain an undetectable viral load are exponentially less likely to transmit the virus (one researcher has even been quoted saying that the chances are reduced to near zero percent).

With this knowledge in hand, I accepted my provider's orders and began treatment. The results were almost instantaneous: within a month my viral load was reduced from 20,000 copies per unit to completely undetectable levels. As a result, my CD4 count rose, and my last blood panel showed them hovering just over 850––a high, healthy CD4 count for anyone, positive or negative. I, like so many others, now live with the reassurance that it is almost impossible for me to transmit the virus, especially when other precautions are taken. My adherence to anti-retroviral treatment is a safe-guard to the community, as well as myself.

This was the good news. The bad news, however, revealed itself when I needed to find away to pay for treatment. When I started taking medication in October of 2011, I had to rely on student insurance. While I am now fortunate enough to have coverage through MassHealth, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts public insurance, I did not qualify for it in 2011 because the university had enrolled me with Aetna. This presented a major problem. Not only did Aetna not adequately cover my doctor visits or blood work, they maintained a $2,000 yearly cap for medications. That might sound like a reasonable cap, but a 30-day supply of Atripla (the anti-retroviral medication prescribed to me) costs just over $2,000.

I'll repeat that: a 30-day supply of Atripla costs just over $2,000. I was (and continue to be) fortunate enough to live in an area of the U.S. where there are many resources for someone living with HIV. Although it was, by no means, an easy feat to get my medication covered during the first year, thanks to the incredible medical social workers in Boston I now have full coverage. This, however, is not the case universally, both at home and abroad. Treatment can be hard to come by, and this often prevents those living with HIV from receiving adequate access to medicine--medicine which not only allows patient to live longer, but also prevents the spread of HIV.

We will never live in a post-HIV/AIDS epoch unless this changes. Until there is a vaccine or a cure, Treatment as Prevention is the only sustainable model that benefits both the HIV-positive and HIV-negative communities. At a certain point, we have to ask ourselves (especially as communities of faith) how much longer we can allow the corporate profit made off of those living with HIV to outweigh the imperative that anti-retroviral therapy be made readily and affordably available to all, for the sake of all. Medications do not simply save individual lives; they save communities.

"Loaves and Fishes Mosaic"
PHOTO CREDIT: James Emery
Used under Creative Commons License.
Some rights reserved

The Gospel pericope cited above serves as a cornerstone of this imperative. In this enacted parable (the historicity of which is not my purpose here), Jesus gives his disciples a command –– he gives us a command: "You go and feed them." The responsibility here is not Jesus’; it is ours. The necessary resources are already abundant by God's good grace, and we simply have to recognize that. But, in recognizing this abundance, we are also forced to ask where this abundance frequently ends up. Does it end up serving the good of the community, or does it end up in the hands of a few? The responsibility is ours.

Let's take Jesus at his word in this parable: "You go and feed them."

Sean R. Glenn is Integrity's Diocesan Organizer for Massachusetts. He is a composer and conductor of sacred choral music, and holds a Masters in Theological Studies from Boston University and a Master of Arts in Music from the Aaron Copland School at Queens College. His home on the web is www.seanglenn.com.

Taking Their Authority: Marie Alford-Harkey Reflects on the Philadelphia 11

Sermon Proper 13A
August 3, 2014
Trinity Episcopal Church, Hartford, CT
Marie Alford-Harkey, M.Div.
Matthew 14:13-21

Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. 

When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, "This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves." Jesus said to them, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." They replied, "We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” And he said, "Bring them here to me." 

Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.

In the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand there’s an inside story between Jesus and his disciples, and that’s where I want to focus today.

Jesus is training the disciples to take up their own ministries. It starts when he refuses to allow them to send the people away to find food, but instead tells them "You give them something to eat." When they protest, he says, "Bring me what you have." And so they bring him the five loaves and two fish that they have.

After he said the blessing, Jesus didn’t hand the disciples baskets and baskets of bread and fish. He handed back to them exactly what they had given him. He sent them out into that crowd of 5,000 men and countless women and children with five loaves of bread and two fish.

That’s what ministry looks like. Bring me what you have, says Jesus, and I’ll bless you and send you back into the world. But I’m going to make you do the work. You feed the people.

It’s an appropriate message on this weekend after the celebration of the anniversary of women’s ordination in the Episcopal Church. On July 29, 1974, eleven women were "irregularly" ordained to the Episcopal priesthood at the Church of the Advocate in Philadelphia. They came to be known as the
Philadelphia 11.

The Rev. Suzanne Hiatt, one of the Philadelphia 11, said in a speech some 9 years after the fact, "In the prayerbook ordination service according to which I was ordained a priest in July 1974 (remember, this was before the 'new' 1979 prayerbook), the bishop in laying hands on the head of the ordinand recites this formula: 'Take thou authority to execute the office of a Priest in the Church of God, now committed to thee by the imposition of our hands.' ... The bishop does not confer priestly authority but simply tells the ordinand to assume it. The story of the ordination of women priests in the Episcopal Church is a case study of women 'taking' authority..."

Those women got tired of waiting for the church to act, and so they took what they had, it was blessed, and they went about doing the work they had been called to do.

Perhaps you are like me. By the time I showed up at an Episcopal Church, the ordination of women was a given. Or perhaps you’ve been an Episcopalian for a long time, and you remember the ordination of the Philadelphia 11. Perhaps you are young enough that women have been priests in the Episcopal
Church all your life. Perhaps you’re still a little uncomfortable with the idea of a soprano-pitched chanting voice, or painted fingernails around a chalice, or a curvy female body under a cassock or alb.

But all of us, no matter where we are situated in respect to the events July 29, 1974, all of us have been affected by the ordination of women in this church. Thank God.

Earlier this year, when I was at my parents’ house down in Georgia, I came across an essay I wrote when I was a 9th  grader. The date on this yellowing sheet of paper is 9-9-80. The title is "What I Want to Do With My Life."

In it, I wrote, "I want to find new ways to reach people for Christ and develop my own teaching ministry." My 14 year old self went on to say that "I want to study Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic," and that I "want to get into theology a little later on, after my beliefs and convictions become stronger." (I wonder who had warned me already about the crisis of faith that is a nearly universal experience for those who study theology.) Finally, I concluded that, "I want to be a really good teacher in some sort of outreach ministry teaching conferences and seminars."

Do you notice what I notice in that old paper? At 14, as a part of a conservative Christian tradition, it did not even cross my mind that I could study theology and become a minister. But I knew that I was called. And I went on to fulfill the call to teach. And by the time that I eventually heeded the call to study theology, because of the Philadelphia 11, I knew that it was possible for a woman, even a lesbian woman, to be a priest in my chosen faith tradition.

Last weekend, April and I went to the celebration that marked this historic anniversary at the Church of the Advocate. While April and I both love a good church party, I am usually the one who wants to go to diocesan convention, or General Convention, or a mission conference, or a listening session. But this was April’s idea. She was the one who reminded me that we stand on the shoulders of the Philadelphia 11, who took their authority as priests 40 years ago.

Marie Alford-Harkey with the Rev. Carter Heyward
PHOTO CREDIT April Alford-Harkey

It was a joyous weekend, filled with the fun of greeting friends old and new, honoring how far women have come in the church, and recognizing how far we have to go in reaching the goal of equality for all people in the institutional structures of the Episcopal Church.

I got to meet and talk to one of my sheroes, the Rev. Carter Heyward, Ph.D., who was one of the Philadelphia 11 and a professor at Episcopal Divinity School (where April and I both went to seminary) from 1975 until her retirement in 2006. My smile (and Carter’s) in the picture that April took of us testifies to my excitement, and I’m sure, to my place as a true church nerd.

Dr. Fredrica Harris Thompsett, another EDS professor and a noted Anglican church historian and theologian gave the keynote address at the symposium. She challenged us to live truly into the "embodied nature of Anglican theology" that emphasizes the goodness of all creation and the dwelling of the incarnate Christ in us and us in him. All people, she said, must claim their bodies "as sacred vehicles of spiritual authority."

And this is one reason why I say that all of us here have been affected by the ordination of women in the Episcopal Church. Every Sunday, we gather as diverse people who make up the whole body of Christ, and celebrate the Eucharist together. Just here in this community, we are old and young and in
between, we have light brown, dark brown, or rosy pink skin, we are lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender, we are born in this country and not born in this country. Our bodies vary by size, shape, and ability. The fact that those who preside at our celebration of the Eucharist, our priests, can also represent that beautiful diversity is of great theological significance, and it would not be true had not those 11 women "taken their authority."

The women who took their priestly authority, like Carter Heyward and Suzanne Hiatt, were unabashed feminists. They made no apologies for their hope that rather than the institution changing women to serve its ends, women could help the institution continue to renew itself by becoming less clergy-centered and less hierarchical. Our "new" prayer book of 1979 was meant to further this aim by reminding us that baptism is our first ordination.

Our catechism, which is much older, teaches us that "The ministers of the Church are lay persons, bishops, priests, and deacons." All Christians are ordained by God in Christ through baptism to carry out God’s mission in the world. We are all called to take what we have to Jesus, have it blessed, and
then go out into the world to do our ministry.

So today, I invite you to reflect on your own ordination as a minister of the gospel of Christ. What do you have that you can bring to Jesus to be blessed? How will you claim your authority as an ordained person?

Marie Alford-Harkey earned her M. Div from the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Mass., and is a aspirant for Holy Orders in the Diocese of Connecticut.  When not busy at her "day job" as Deputy Director of the Religious Institute, she serves Integrity as Province I Coordinator and on the board of Integrity Connecticut.

The Parable of Hope - Reflections on the Philadelphia 11

The Rev. Dr. Cameron Partridge has written a beautiful sermon celebrating both the anniversary of the ordinations of the Philadelphia 11 and the forward looking spirit of the Episcopal Church. One of the first openly transgender priests in the Church, Partridge describes how the history of the Philadelphia 11 allowed him to come to a fuller understanding our radical radical faith and ability to find the Kingdom of God in this world.

"...after years of effort – organizing, education, conversation – there came a time when a number of those working on this impasse decided that these ordinations simply needed to move forward.  And so in Philadelphia on July 29, 1974 – forty years ago – a group of women that came to be called the “Philadelphia Eleven” was ordained to the priesthood by three retired bishops.  In many ways this event changed everything for our church.  And in many ways this story (now told afresh in a new book by Darlene O’Dell) changed everything for me.  It spoke to me so deeply that I began to experience The Episcopal Church in which I had grown up in a completely new way. This Church revealed itself as willing to struggle, to move forward, to stake its life on being and becoming a new creation.  This story became for me a source of profound hope."

We encourage you to read the entire blog article on Partridge's blog, Peculiar Honors. You can find it at "Parable of Hope".

Devils and Dandelions: Being Wheat in a World of Weeds - A sermon by Matt Haines

Proper 11, Year A- St. Andrew & All Souls' Episcopal Church, Portland

• Wisdom 12:13,16-19
• Psalm 86:11-17 
• Romans 8:12-25
• Matthew 13:24-30,36-43 

Not long ago, I was walking through my front lawn and saw a dandelion which had gone to seed. I was instantly transported to my childhood when I would take the cottony flower in my hand and blow with all my might. WHEW; it was so fun to watch those little white specks take air. I felt so powerful. One day though, my grandmother watched me do this and called me over to her. She explained that I shouldn’t do that. I argued that it was so fun. She agreed that it looked fun, but she explained that these little white specks were actually bad seeds. These seeds caused weeds which smother the good flowers and the vegetable garden, and even ruined the lawn. I felt terrible because I thought I was doing something harmless, but now I had helped to ruin things. She smiled and said "It’s ok; you didn’t know. Besides, you are a good kid."

Thirty years later I still wonder sometimes, "Am I a good kid?" We all ask that question don’t we? What does it mean to be good—what does it mean to be evil?

Jesus’ parable of the "Wheat and the Chaff" (MT 13:24-30, 36-43) uses similar imagery. There is a field and an enemy had come by night and seeded weeds therein. The followers of the "evil one" planted weeds which threatened to smother and kill the wheat. The servants in the parable wanted to help by pulling out the weeds in order to save the wheat. The master said not to for fear of destroying the good with the bad—a sort of agricultural collateral damage. Jesus warns against this method when he explains that his followers were to be the good plants and that the angels would sort through the harvest at the end. Our job is simple, be the good kid. In other words, be the good seed.

Wait a minute! Aren’t we morally obligated to pull the weeds to protect the good seeds? Jesus’ answer—‘no’! It doesn’t work that way. Pulling weeds in this context is murderous to the good plants as well, and frankly it is the work of others. It is the work of angels.

An unknown counter-protester at a Westboro Baptist
Church demonstration in February of 2008
PHOTO CREDIT: Terry Ross (flickr.com/qnr)
Used by Creative Commons License. Some rights reserved.

I would like to offer a real world example of this—Pastor Fred Phelps. He is that Westboro Baptist preacher in the cowboy hat who would picket the funerals with graphic signs and slurs stating that "God hates___" (insert the blank with a slur here). He and his followers blamed gay people for every possible ill and misfortune. He saw his job as pulling out the weeds (gay sinners) to protect the wheat (the non-gay righteous). For the LGBTQ community, this man was perhaps the most self-righteous and singly destructive soul of the past several decades. He started by protesting the funerals of people who died of AIDS and told their grieving families that God was happy that their loved one died and that he was happy that they were now in hell. Then he focused on people who died due to antigay or transphobic violence and yelled to all in ear shot that "God hates___" (insert the blank with a slur here). He picketed churches and schools that showed mercy to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people. (It became almost an honor for a while to get picketed by these fanatics. It meant that you were doing something nice.) Finally, he started picketing those soldiers who had fallen in battle. Their 'sin' was merely serving a country which tolerated certain people. "God hates___" (insert "America" here). This man and his church had decided that they saw evil weeds which needed to be plucked and they felt commanded to do so.

These misguided people felt powerful casting bad seed and pulling up the good. They claimed to possess the knowledge of good and evil. Incidentally, that was the original sin! Eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge banished Adam and Eve. The evil one tempted them to be equal to God in this way. The second sin, fratricide, happened soon thereafter. We are in danger of killing our brothers and sisters when we appoint ourselves to weed the garden. We become like old Fred Phelps.

So what are we to do in the face of sin and evil? What do we do about the weeds? First of all, we need to stop blowing the dandelions we encounter in our daily lives (no matter how fun it is). We all encounter evil such as: gossip, rumors, suspicion, violence, oppression, injustice and prejudice. We have many opportunities to spread sin—we are called to stop. Remember that bit about wailing and gnashing of teeth? We must leave the dandelions alone!

As seeds of good we are called to be fruitful. We are wheat called to nourish the world. We are not to be the seeds kept in the barn of last week’s gospel. We are called to out-number the weeds. How do we know that we are indeed good instead of evil? In the Wisdom of Solomon we are given insight into this reality.

Although you are sovereign in strength, you [God] judge with mildness,
and with great forbearance you govern us;
for you have power to act whenever you choose.
Through such works you have taught your people
that the righteous must be kind,
and you have filled your children with good hope,
because you give repentance for sins.

- WISDOM 12: 18-19  

God judges with mildness: we don’t get to judge at all. The righteous are kind. If we are not kind, it is a pretty good chance that we are not sowing the good seed. We are either spreading weeds or pulling out good seed with the bad (Remember, we are supposed to be the wheat!).  God gives us hope though repentance. When we find ourselves being unkind, we need to repent. That is our hope.

Incidentally, some of the most beautiful ways I have ever seen this happen were grace-filled responses to some of Fred Phelps’ protests. Groups of people dressed as angels often came to these picketed funerals and surrounded the messengers of hate with their wings and sang hymns to drown them out, allowing families an opportunity to grieve surrounded by holiness. Bikers on Harleys—perhaps even a few "Hell’s Angels"— escorted the hearses of fallen veterans, drowning out hateful slurs with their engines of love and support. Notice how they did not pick the weeds; they planted more good seed to surround the weeds.

You may have heard that Fred Phelps died this year. He was a complex man. It turns out he started his career as well-respected civil rights lawyer. He had also previously run for public office as a Democrat. Yet, he turned in a different direction.

Late in his life, his church family turned on him. The church which he founded actually excommunicated him. His heresy--wait for it--was attempting to bring more kindness to the way church members and leaders treated one other. Is it possible he had some hope in repentance after all? The elders were unable to see any good seeds in him as they weeded their own weird little garden. As he lay dying, one of his sons--who had left the church years ago-- remarked that the church elders had taken away the only thing that brought his father joy. They held no funeral for him. You see, pulling weeds is tricky!

"Dandelion 2"
PHOTO CREDIT: lc shinazy
Used under Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved

When old Fred Phelps died there were a lot of mixed feelings in the communities which he had hurt. In fact, I have not fully been able to address my own hurt by his brand of Christianity. Yet I was touched by a certain response of people who understood how to sow good seed. These people simply stood outside the Westboro church with a sign. It read, "We’re sorry for your loss". How profound!

"We’re sorry for your loss". Kindness and mercy was offered by the very same folks this man hurt for decades. They could have felt powerful blowing dandelions in his lawn. They could have self-righteously pulled such weeds out of their community garden. Instead, they were examples of nourishing wheat. They planted seeds of love to surround the weeds and trusted in their own kindness, God’s merciful judgment and the harvesting skills of angels.

Looking around the world we can see that a lot seems to be going to seed. Evil is afoot and the weeds seem to strangle the good seeds. We know what to do. We are to wait for Jesus and the angels to sort out the wheat from the weeds. Meanwhile, we are to grow and become righteous and nutritious for a hungry world around us.

Jesus said, "Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!"

Let us use our ears to hear! Amen.

Matt Haines is Integrity's Vice-President for Local Affairs and active in the Diocese of Oregon

Witnessing History: Vivian Taylor Recalls Watching President Sign Anti-Discrimination Order

President Barack Obama
PHOTO CREDIT: Susan Russell

On Monday, July 21, President Barack Obama signed an Executive Order which added sexual orientation and gender identity to the Equal Employment Opportunity rules set out by several of his predecessors.  It covers federal employees and employees working for third-party organizations under federal contracts.  Integrity's Executive Director, Vivian Taylor, was in attendance because she was among a number of prominent Episcopalians working for LGBT equality who signed an open letter urging the President not to include a clause which would grant exemption from the order to those claiming their religious conscience prevented them from complying.  She was joined at the White House by the Right Rev. Gene Robinson, retired bishop of New Hampshire, and the Rev. Canon Susan Russell, associate pastor at All Saints: Pasadena and former president of Integrity.

What was the first thing that went through your head when you heard you would witness the President signing this Executive Order?

The first thing that I thought about was, "Thank God! I get to be present for this huge, important moment, which will affects 20% of the American workforce."  I was honored to be a witness to this act, which recognized the value of millions of American workers.

I'm reminded of a verse from the Epistle of St. James (Ch. 5: Vs. 11)  which has always been a favorite piece of scripture for me.  "Indeed we call blessed those who showed endurance. You have heard of the endurance of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful."  I'm very grateful for this order, which calls for equal treatment of all workers whose employers receive funds from the federal government.

What was it like being in the White House?

This wasn't my first visit, but I've found that time always goes by very quickly.  Justice work can often feel extremely lonely, and it is heartening to be among a crowd of people, be they secular or people of faith, who are being recognized or are there witnessing the fruits of their labor, as took place today.

Some self-described progressive Christians cautioned the President about passing this order without giving religious groups an "out".  Can you talk about why you and 99 other faith leaders feel differently?

While it is always important to respect people's beliefs, it is also crucial not to legitimize any biases they may hold toward a particular group, in this case LGBT people.  We've recently seen attempts to create legislation to do exactly that in the private sector, so we felt it was important to make sure the President's order did make room for that kind of discrimination.  Integrity's local organizers recently helped defeat such a bill in Oregon, and our bishops in Kansas spoke out against a similar effort, which was also defeated.  Even/especially at a time when we're making marked progress, we must remain vigilant to any effort to enshrine bias into the law.

Some federal employees say the executive order passed in 1998, which added sexual orientation to their non-discrimination protection, aren't consistently enforced.  Do you think things will be different now?

Absolutely.  Not only is the issue something that is much better understood by Americans than even a few years ago, It also clarifies the previous regulations and refocuses our attention on  them, so I have reason to feel confident.

Describe your favorite moment from today.

Vivian Taylor & Mia Macy

My favorite moment was meeting and befriending Mia Macy, a transwoman and a fellow veteran, who saw firsthand that the existing statutes did not actually protect us.  After she left active duty, she began her gender transition while working as a federal contractor.  In 2013, the Department of Justice ruled that the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms acted illegally by passing her over for a position for which she was qualified, after learning she was transgender. The unemployment rate for trans people is about twice that of the general population, so it was a privilege to spend time with the woman whose case helped the President realize we couldn't wait for Congress to pass legislation to protect them.

Do you think most Episcopalians would agree with Integrity's presence today, as a church group?  What could those of us who see this as a strong step forward do to help those Christians who are concerned about what they describe as the government restricting their ability to act on their own beliefs.

I think the majority of the Episcopalians I have met in my travels this past year would celebrate today's ruling.  It's worth noting that at least 2/3 of our dioceses have elected to bless same-gender relationships in some form. There are still areas of the country, however, where we are "not there yet" particularly in our efforts to bridge the urban-rural divide.  We are in talks with a number of our partner organizations about a concentrated effort to equip more local organizers to witness our mission goals in these areas.  More on that soon!

The Right Rev. Gene Robinson, Vivian Taylor, the Rev. Canon Susan Russell

PRESS RELEASE: Integrity Executive Director to Attend Signing of President's Anti-Discrimination Executive Order

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE - PLEASE DISTRIBUTE WIDELY!

Integrity is pleased to announce that Executive Director, Vivian Taylor, will be among those present when President Barack Obama signs an Executive Order on Monday banning employment discrimination by Federal contractors on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity.

The directive will not include an exemption for faith-based groups beyond that already afforded by a previous Order, signed by President George W. Bush, which grants exceptions for those directly involved in ministry.  On July 8, Taylor joined prominent Episcopalians and progressive faith leaders in signing an open letter to the President which asked that a broader exemption, allowing further discrimination by faith-based employers on the basis of "religious freedom," not be included.

Other Episcopalians who signed the letter include:

• The Very Rev. Gary Hall - Dean of the Cathedral Church of St. Peter & St. Paul (“the National Cathedral”) in Washington, D.C.
• The Right Rev. Gene Robinson, Bishop of New Hampshire (retired) and Senior Fellow at the Center for American Progress
• The Rev. Canon Susan Russell - Associate Pastor, All Saints: Pasadena, past president of Integrity
• The Very Rev. Katherine Hancock Ragsdale - President and Dean, Episcopal Divinity School, Cambridge, Mass.
• The Rev. Ed Bacon - Rector, All Saints: Pasadena
• The Rev. Dr. Cameron Partridge - Chaplain at Boston University, Lecturer at Harvard University, Co-Convener of TransEpiscopal

The National Equality March passing the White House
in March of 2009
PHOTO CREDIT: Kyle Rush  (flickr.com/kylerush)
Used by Creative Commons License Some rights reserved

"I am deeply honored to represent Integrity at this historic event. Employment discrimination against our people is still a near-constant threat and burden," Taylor said.  

The National Gay and Lesbian Task Force reported in May that 18 states and the District of Columbia afford employment protections to LGBT people.  Three additional states offer protection on the basis of sexual orientation only.  The President’s order will affect nearly one-fifth of the nation’s workforce.

Integrity has been working with the Task Force and other faith-based advocates to combat discrimination in several states.  Integrity is working in Ohio to build support for the Equal Housing and Employment Act, an LGBT-inclusive piece of non-discrimination legislation. In May, an attempt to pass a "religious freedom" law intended to give businesses in Oregon the right to discriminate was defeated due in part to Integrity's efforts.

Taylor, who served in the United States Army in the Iraq war from 2009 to 2010, recently wrote about her personal experience with employment discrimination for the progressive faith blog Believe Out Loud.

Integrity is a member-supported nonprofit organization of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender [LGBT] Episcopalians and our straight friends. Since its founding by Dr. Louie Crew in 1974, Integrity has been the leading grassroots voice for the full inclusion of LGBT persons in the
Episcopal Church and our equal access to its rites. Integrity activities include advocacy, worship, fellowship, education, communication, outreach, and service to the church. Through Integrity's evangelism, thousands of LGBT people, estranged from the Episcopal Church and other denominations, have returned to parish life.

Contact:

Melvin Soriano, Secretary & Director of Communications

mel@integrityusa.org

770 Mass Ave #390170

Cambridge MA 02139

United States of America

Ph: +1-626-600-2030

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Bloody Sunday - Irish Rocker Spotlights Church Role in Anti-Gay Russia

Last spring, I wrote about a young woman named Dannika Nash who quoted the Macklemore song "Same Love" in some frank advice to the institutional church on behalf of milliennials. In a nutshell, she warned that if the church forced her generation to choose between it and their support of LGBT rights, it was going to be disappointed in the outcome. Her basic message was one that research clearly shows is shared by many in her generation, 30% of whom do not claim any faith affiliation at all. She implied that - for them - music and other aspects of their culture fulfill a social-consciousness need that religion does not.

Macklemore, classified as a rapper, was not afraid to call out the genre's reputation for homophobia and misogyny. In January of this year, he performed "Same Love" at the Grammy Awards while Queen Latifah witnessed the marriages of thirty couples, including some of the same gender.

I heard a song recently in my truck which caught my attention because the chorus starts out with the phrase "take me to church..."  Not only is this unfamiliar subject matter for popular music (for reasons explained above, I expect), but a Facebook buddy and his friends use the expression "go to church" as a euphemism for their favorite pastime (kayaking over waterfalls in the Pacific Northwest), and I thought he might get a chuckle out of a song that features that phrase.

 

Video for Hozier's "Take Me to Church"

(CAUTION: Violent Imagery)

Hozier at SXSW 2014
PHOTO CREDIT: WFUV Radio
Used under Creative Commons License
 Some rights reserved

It wasn't til I got home and read more about it that I understood the song's topic is no laughing matter.  Having only half-heard the words while driving, I discovered upon closer examination that Andrew Hozier Byrne (who goes by his middle name), a 24-year-old Irish man, is not asking to be brought to a religious institution, at least not the ones he knows.  Describing his experience as "Every Sunday's getting more bleak / A fresh poison each week"  Hozier (or at least the protagonist in the song) is -- like Ms. Nash -- eschewing life in the pews for a "religious experience" of another kind, in his case a lover.

What caught my attention, however, was the subject matter of the song's video.  It depicts -- in brutal honesty -- the abduction of a gay couple in Russia by a vigilante gang.  The connection to the lyrics was not immediately clear, but -- if you know a little background on what's going on there -- it starts to make sense.

For at least the last 12 years, anti-gay sentiment in Russia has been ramping up. Attempts to hold pride marches in Russian cities have been generally meant with political opposition and/or violent protests.  The country's Christian, Muslim and Jewish leaders have all spoken out against the observances, with the Grand Mufti Talgat Tadzhuddin encouraging flogging for the participants in the Moscow Pride of 2006.

"I always stand by the song and the point that the video made, so it’s never a chore," Hozier, who is not gay, told the London Evening Standard. "The song is about loving somebody, and the video is about people who would undermine what it is to love somebody."

Journalist Jeff Sharlet, whose books C Street and The Family document the degree of control a cadre of evangelical Christians have over Washington, traveled to Russia this fall in the run-up to the Sochi Olympics and painted a stark picture of gay life in the country which appeared in February's GQ.  Sharlet describes the growing hostility towards gay people as part of a larger social unraveling: Russian civilians, encouraged by their government and religious institutions, have taken matters into their own hands.

"There's a national network called Occupy Pedophilia, whose members torture gay men and post hugely popular videos of their 'interrogations' online. There are countless smaller, bristling movements, with names presumptuous (God's Will ) or absurd (Homophobic Wolf). There are babushkas who throw stones, and priests who bless the stones, and police who arrest their victims."

In the article, Sharlet describes shoot-ups in bars, rapes, beatings, and computer surveillance, (even on the part of private citizens).  Readers learn the measures to which people will go to survive, and the lengths others will go to tear apart the lives of complete strangers in pursuit of some dystopic fever-dream. We meet two families that live together symbiotically, presenting as heterosexual to the world as a cover for their actual same-gender partnerships.  Sharlet talks to both targets and perpetrators, attempting to help readers decipher what is behind the fear and violence.

The Duma in 2013 passed an "anti-propaganda law" which makes it illegal to communicate about "non-traditional sexual relationships" to minors. Of course what constitutes "propaganda" can be broadly interpreted to suit the occasion, and one could be punished for doing anything something as simple as holding hands anywhere "where children might see."  Victims of vigilante violence are laughed at or punished if they seek help from law enforcement.

Western Connection (AKA, Why We Should Care)

If the rationale of "protecting the children" sounds familiar, it is because it is the same mantra used to justify anti-gay laws in Africa, and -- lo and behold -- some of the same American evangelical voices, including Scott Lively, are taking at least partial credit. Lively is currently the target of a federal lawsuit under the Alien Tort Act for crimes against humanity, due to his involvement in getting Uganda's "Jail the Gays Bill" passed.  He toured that country in 2009 with several other Americans, stirring up anti-gay fear at a series of rallies.  He employed the same tactics in Russia and called the passage of the law there "one of the proudest achievements of my career".  His enthusiasm was shared by the American Family Association's Bryan Fischer.

Most American clergy, not unaware of shifting public opinion, are more nuanced in their positions on LGBT issues, sometimes head-scratchingly so.  Televangelist Joel Osteen told Larry King "I believe homosexuality is a sin, but I don't want to preach about it." Jim Wallis of Sojourners (who is frequently described as a progressive) drafted and circulated a letter to Barack Obama in favor of a "religious exemption" to the President's executive order on discrimination by companies holding federal contracts.  A number of the large, venue-based churches like Hillsong NYC, attempt to avoid the topic altogether.

But we can't not talk about it, so long as crises as large and terrifying as the one unfolding in Russia continue to happen, and as long as there are places in our own "civilized" country where people think belonging to a church makes it okay for you to be a bully and want that enshrined in the law.  For those of us who believe there is a place for everyone at God's table, the recent string of domestic victories should not be mistaken as a sign that we're anywhere near done doing justice work. The "religious freedom" laws being introduced in various quarters are a clear sign of that.

Nor can we rest on our laurels while we know that hurtful things are being done in God's name anywhere in the world. The one thing our Savior didn't abide well is hypocrisy, and the YouTube generation is reminding us of that by voting with its feet.  Perhaps if they saw our churches witnessing to the pain being inflicted in the name of religion and how this conflicts with the Gospel we know, they'd be more inclined to stick around.

Christian Paolino is the Chair of the Integrity Stakeholders' Council and Diocesan Organizer for Newark.

The Rev. William H. Terry: "Not Peace, but a Sword"

Jesus said to the twelve apostles, "A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household! So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.

Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows. Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it."

- MATTHEW 10:24-39

That was the Gospel reading for the day on June 22nd. I have taken the liberty of underlining key ideas or passages that support my thoughts and formed the words of my sermon on that Sunday. While contemplating what appears to be a Jesus that is out of step with our 21^st century idealization the ironies of this brief encounter tumbled upon me. The Gospel opens by warning of those demonizing a household that preaches truth and the integrity and also for those who follow the master of the household. Even then Jesus brings stark attention to the most profound intimacy that the God, creator, has with his creation – "even the hairs of your head are all counted" so fear not.  Well and good and consistent with whom I think or we think of as Jesus and then the image, like a glass, is shattered! "Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword." This loud and one-time proclamation can either be ignored and discarded because it does not meet our fantasy of the soft and air-brushed Jesus with the little children or the lamb. Or, it can be dealt with on its terms, not ours.

I would like to suggest that the "sword," a tool of division, destruction, and violence, is in fact the sword of righteousness, truth, and justice. It also is a sword that singularly stands as a symbol for the ensuing divisions that arise out of justice work. Even then the sword of Jesus is at once a sword of profound counter-cultural charity. It can and often does cause pain. The question then may be asked what sort of pain?

The violence of peace making is worked out in ways that sometimes daunt us. By nature, I am sure that most think that if we offer goodness and kindness we should and will receive goodness and kindness in return. Even Jesus admonished his disciples, at one point, to leave towns or homes that did not reciprocate with "peace." Somehow we believe that we are owed a kindly return for our kindness. In that very thought there is a kind of arrogance that permeates works of justice and mercy. It is that sense of immediate gratification of being nice, doing justice, and in so doing all will be well. The reality is this doing justice work is messy, hurtful, and difficult.  

This sword that Jesus speaks of can indeed cause pain and hurt, even suffering. When I have encountered anger and outrage and it is met with softness and kindness one can almost see the ensuing discomfort, and depending on the person, fear. Yes, even fear. When hostility is met with grace it does not know what to do: confusion of the unexpected. There is nothing that abusive language and hostility can do against charity, respect, and dignity, which rob hostility of its very basis of power. What hostility expects is to be met with hostility. That is the way of the world. Have you ever observed a quiet discussion escalate to a hostile argument and perhaps beyond? Why? Precisely because the ego must dominate, we must be right, we must prevail or our own sense of self is somehow damaged. As perverse as this may seem, I believe it to be true. I also believe that the more desperate the circumstances of people the truer this is. Compound that with a lack vocabulary, often the case with persons in poverty, and the argument translates into action when words fail. What is that action? Often that action is worked out as violence.

I once offered kind words to a very hostile and angry woman. I kept up those kind words no matter what she said. I asked her about her. She rebuffed the inquiry. "You don’t give a damn about me!" But I kept on. She did not relent, she kept at it, anger upon anger and it was as if each kind word were heaping burning coals upon her head. In the end she was exhausted and almost broken. She was broken by sword of dignity and justice. Perhaps she will heal and in healing be changed. Meeting anger and hostility with charity and kindness can be daunting for the giver and for the receiver. It is most counter cultural for us all.

The Rev. William H. Terry

I endorse--and am known to endorse--the full inclusion of LGBT community into the life of the Church. As they say, "all of the sacraments for all of the people." I once met a man who was, by many measures, a good man. He tried to be a "good father, churchman, and citizen." He worked hard and made a good living. His daughters went to a good college. 

This man was white, lived in a grand house in a conservative village and attended church regularly.  He too is an Episcopalian. He was my host for sermon invitation in this small north Louisiana town. Over coffee one morning we started to chat. It was the usual polite conversation and pedigrees that passed between us. You could almost see the check list: long hair "X", Navy veteran "√", family man "√", Rector of St. Anna’s Church ("the Gay Church") "X" and so on. But in the end, I guess I passed muster.

My host looked up at me with a degree of resignation and even anger and blurted out that he was sick, just sick of the way the LGBT community "hijacked" his church. "Anyone can do what they want but those people hijacked my church and forced those changes on me." He told me the story of when he first heard of an openly gay man being ordained Bishop who was in a committed relationship. "I wanted to throw up" he said. I took all of this in and I had that moment. You know the moment when everything slows down; you withdraw totally into yourself, and desperately look for a moment of clarity in the midst of the clutter of words and emotions. Fact, my very dearest friend in the entire world is gay. Fact, most of my circles of friends are gay. Fact, about one third or more of my parish is gay. How do I respond? To ignore his tirade and avoid the issue is quite southern and quite pleasant: denial. With that comes guilt usually later on. I can rationalize that by saying I was being a good guest. I just let him vent. He’ll never change.

Alternatively, I can get on my steed of self righteousness and argue about equality and even go into the scripture passages and from whence they came and make a Biblical case. That would back the guy in the corner and ultimately end up repelling him. It would further disenfranchise this man who is hurting and feeling betrayed. So how would the sword of justice fall upon him?

I simply said, "I understand. Your world was set, the rules made, and somewhere along the line the rules all changed. That has to seem like a betrayal. But you know the greater church did vote, so it wasn’t "them" it was us. Yet, I know that the world you depended on has changed." He paused, looked out at the distance and wondered. His anger had no more target, his sense of betrayal was acknowledged. He was validated yet his rant was not affirmed.

Yes, if we follow the mandates of Jesus, if we move to His beat and his story we will encounter divisions. Families will be set against one another: a mother against her son a father against his child, or parents against other relatives. So, often I see in social media proclamations regarding sexuality or poverty. The arguments going back and forth become ever so rancorous! A person working at our church has a daughter who is a lesbian. Distant family members will make posts about praying for her and all like her that they will be "fixed." How to respond, not betraying ones daughter, is a question often asked. You answer with a sword! The division will be what it will be. Meet it with the calmness and charity of righteousness that knows that you are proclaiming the gift of Jesus. Swords like this can hurt the enemy. Swords like this can and should be raised. Jesus was not an air brushed soft eyed savior. Around the hem of his garment was mud and dirt, his shirt filled with sweat, his brow burnt by the sun, his hands likely rough; he carried a sword not to bring peace but division. 


The Rev. William H. Terry is the Rector of St. Anna's Episcopal Church in New Orleans, an Integrity Proud Parish Partner.

Has the Church Forgotten It Has AIDS?

June 4 - 6, the Fourth Province of The Episcopal Church held its regular synod meeting at Kanuga Camp and Conference Center near Hendersonville, NC. Bruce Garner, Integrity's Province IV Coordinator, attended the synod in his capacity as a Lay Deputy to next year's General Convention from the Diocese of Atlanta.  He is one of three openly LGBT Deputies from that deputation.

Bruce set up a display in the lobby of the meeting room that included Integrity USA's tri-fold back drop, an assortment of brochures and a couple of baskets of buttons.  He also included a sign-up sheet for anyone who might be interested in being the contact person for their
diocese.

During a synod plenary session, Bruce made a presentation on the Province IV Network of AIDS Ministries Annual HIV Retreat, which would follow the synod on June 6-8.  This presentation included some startling statistics about HIV/AIDS in Province IV.  (He is Vice Chair of the planning committee that produces the retreat, now in its 23rd year.)  He then co-facilitated a workshop that went into more detail about how HIV/AIDS was affecting
Province IV with a much greater proportion of infections than the rest of the country and church.  (His co-facilitator was Lola Thomas, who chairs the Planning Committee and is Executive Director of a semi-rural AIDS service provider.)

He writes:

"Of the ten cities in the US with the highest HIV incidence rates, six of them are in Province IV.  Of the 20 highest, 12 are in Province IV.  And of the 50 highest, 19 are in Province IV.  The fourth ranked city for incidence rates is Jackson, Mississippi.  These figures were eye opening to those at the synod....as well they should be.

The sad reality is that The Episcopal Church has essentially abandoned domestic HIV/AIDS ministries.  As far as I know, the Kanuga Retreat is the only major HIV/AIDS activity undertaken as a Episcopal event anywhere in the church, beyond a handful of parish and diocesan ministries.  We have gone from being on the cutting edge to dragging up the rear.  Yet infection rates continue to rise with the fastest growing group being young men in their 20's and 30's, about half of whom are African American.  Most Episcopalians do not see many folks of color in their pews and thus do not realize we still have a problem."

The National Episcopal AIDS Coalition  provides some resources for individuals and congregations who seek to include HIV/AIDS concerns in their ministry.  The Welcoming Parishes Initiative provides guidance on how to become better educated about prevention, treatment and pastoral care, ideas for community involvement, and media for making your intentions known.

Raise a Glass: Stonewall at 45

On this date in 1969, a police raid on the Stonewall Inn in New York's West Village, a dive bar frequented by drag queens, street youth and other marginalized members of the LGBT community, was probably expected to be routine by the police and even the bar's Mafia-linked owners.

What unfolded instead, however, was that this time the people had had enough and fought back.  A riot ensued, attracting 500-600 people, and quickly spilled into the nearby streets.  The cops were outnumbered and tried barricading themselves inside, but were quickly flushed out of the only place that many of the bar's regulars could call home.

"Everyone in the crowd felt that we were never going to go back. It was like the last straw. It was time to reclaim something that had always been taken from us.... All kinds of people, all different reasons, but mostly it was total outrage, anger, sorrow, everything combined, and everything just kind of ran its course," wrote participant Michael Fader. "We felt that we had freedom at last, or freedom to at least show that we demanded freedom. We weren't going to be walking meekly in the night and letting them shove us around—it's like standing your ground for the first time."

The melee lasted a few hours, but riots happened again twice more that week, and emboldened the city's (and then the nation's) LGBT community to start organizing itself in earnest, setting into motion the progress that continues today.  The following year, the first pride marches took place, not only in New York, but Los Angeles and Chicago.  The closest Sunday to the anniversary of the riots has become the focus of New York's pride celebrations. This event has become such a turning point in the movement that numerous groups across the country have appropriated the name of the bar as part of their own; making it synonymous with the quest for safety, freedom, and equality.

In the years since, we've stepped much more into the center of the culture, and one of the prices of assimilation is that many neighborhood bars like the Stonewall have passed into memory.   We have earned the right to be fully ourselves in many mainstream places, including many of our churches, and the Internet has made whole other kinds of community possible.

Crowd outside the Stonewall Inn the night the Supreme
Court ruled against DOMA and declined to defend
California's Proposition 8

The Stonewall, however, lives on, after a fashion.  It was largely destroyed in the riots and shut down shortly thereafter.  However, it re-opened in 1990 in half the original space, and both in 2011 when New York's marriage law was enacted, and last year when the Supreme Court issued its landmark rulings on marriage equality, it was there that we gathered.

As a sign of how far we've come, the bar was made a national historic landmark in 2000. President Obama referred to it, along Selma and Seneca Falls, in his second inaugural address as turning points for people under oppression. Last month, the National Park Service used the Stonewall as the venue when announcing a panel to identify and mark more key people and places in the LGBT rights movement, dating back to at least 1924.

I wasn't born yet when the riots happened, but I appreciate what they mean for me and the people on whose shoulders I stand.  I ask you to join me in raising a glass to the men and women who stood their ground on that fateful night, 45 years ago.

Were you part of the Stonewall Riots or similar key moments in LGBT liberation?  Please share your experience in the comments.

Christian Paolino is the Chair of Integrity's Stakeholders' Council and the Diocesan Organizer for Newark.  A graduate of William Paterson University and New School University, he blogs at The Verge of Jordan.

Matt Haines: Sometimes You Can Only Smile

Pride season is full swing throughout much of the country and thousands will line up on the
sidewalks of our nation’s cities and cheer at the marchers parading through the streets. The interests of the LGBTQ community will be showcased in powerful—and colorful— ways. More and more those cheering will notice churches marching in support of their community. Many Integrity members and chapters will be marching this season, joining with our interfaith brothers and sisters in this annual outdoor liturgy.

Matt Haines

This year I fought every cynical bone in my body to get up early to head for the parade. I have
marched so many years in a row and wondered if it was even still worth my time. Several friends
had told me that Pride was something a person grows out of and that the real work has been done. Thankfully, I didn’t fully believe that. I was able to fake a caffeine-fed smile and headed down to the parade staging area.

It amazes me that Churches marching in Pride still causes quite a stir. Just last week while
marching behind Integrity’s banner with the slogan "The Episcopal Church Welcomes You!" I heard countless people yell "thank you." I could only smile. For so many in our community, the church represents oppression. Yet, when these people see us stand with them, it changes that perception and hopefully works to undo some of our legacy of oppression.

I spoke to a young pedal-cab driver after the parade who wondered which group I represented. I told him "Integrity" and explained our work with the Episcopal Church, and bragged that our bishop was in the parade. This young person had no clue what a bishop was, what Episcopalian meant, and even what a denomination was. He was the quintessential non-churched Northwesterner and finally asked if we were Christians. I told him yes and smiled. Still pedaling he turned around and said "I am so glad to hear that there are churches that aren’t mean." I stopped smiling and tried to fight back tears.

"Me too," I said. Then he turned back again and said "thank you." I could only smile.

Matt Haines is Integrity's Vice President for Local Affairs.  He is a native Oregonian

Live Out Loud: An Interview with the Rev. Stephanie Spellers

If you, or your parish leadership, is not sure why Integrity is asking you to consider becoming a Believe Out Loud Episcopal Congregation, we commend to you this short (12 minute) interview between Neil Houghton, our former Vice-President for Local Affairs and an ongoing collaborator on the Believe Out Loud workshop curriculum, and the Rev. Stephanie Spellers, a prophetic voice for radical inclusion.

Stephanie helped found the Crossing emergent-church community which is resident at St. Paul's Cathedral in Boston, and is now on the staff of the Diocese of Long Island.  She's also the author of Radical Welcome: Embracing God, The Other, and the Spirit of Transformation, described as "at once a theological, inspirational, and practical guide for congregations that want to move beyond diversity and inclusion to present a vision for the church of the future: one where the transforming gifts, voices and power of marginalized cultures and groups bring new life to the mainline church."

In her conversation with Neil, Stephanie counters common questions like "We're afraid if we do this, they'll call us 'the gay church!'"  We hope her message leaves you inspired and energized to explore the welcoming church movement and what it can mean for your congregation.

We Need a Little Christmas

It dawned on me - apropos of nothing - in the days between the Supreme Court rulings on DoMA and Prop-8 and our Pride celebrations here in New York last year that Christmas and the anniversary of the Stonewall Riots are roughly opposite each other on the Earth's orbit.  I liked that idea.  For people who observe them both, there are definite parallels in the emotional and physical build-up that occurs in the weeks prior, with much anticipation and even some anxiety for those of us upon whom others depend for the experience to be a positive one.

Bishop Dietsche on the Episcopal
float at NYC Pride

The similarities grew stronger for those of us in the New York area with the election of a new bishop, the Right Rev. Andrew Dietsche, who bears a striking resemblance to St. Nicholas. He and his wife on the Episcopal float lent an authentic presence to the giant sign behind them proclaiming "The Episcopal Church Welcomes You" given his supportive actions for our community in his first year in the episcopal seat.

Fresh from the news that same-gender couples in New York and other states with marriage equality would soon be eligible for federal benefits, we gathered on the street with some new faces and some who we last saw at the prior year's march, and began our time together in prayer.

And we were in need of a celebration. Our city in recent weeks had seen a rash of violence against gay men, culminating in the death of Mark Carson.  The other diocesan bishop in town (across Fifth Avenue) responded with yet another bulletin insert decrying the advance of marriage equality to same-gender couples.  The wait for the SCOTUS rulings -- though they ultimately ended up in our favor -- did little to settle the nerves. Not to reinforce stereotypes, but I was reminded of the scene in the musical/movie Mame, where a family fallen on hard times scrounges together whatever they can find to make a celebration in the face of adversity.

So we danced, waved, and marched down Fifth Avenue, just as our sisters and brothers in Sacramento, New Orleans, Pittsburgh, and Houston (to name a few) bore witness to their own neighbors about the love of God which our church offers.

And then Monday came.  Figuratively, at least, because some march attendees weren't even home yet when the cold reality of the world was thrust at them in the form of a screaming anti-gay tirade on the subway.  The rest of us went back to meetings and spreadsheets, diapers or -- for many of us -- the help wanted section.  And -- like that once-wealthy family who had fallen on hard times --  I wondered what it would take to preserve the feeling of solidarity and power that was so strong just days before.

The answer, if you ask me, lies within all of us.  The way to keep the message that God loves you -- with the gender you claim and the orientation you feel, not the ones the church and society has long said you should -- alive, is to be that message to one another, and to the world. Not once a year, but every day.

We've decided, together, to make the church safe and inviting to all, no exceptions.  Who is going to tell those who haven't heard that news yet, and who are feeling they are without love and without worth?  We can't wait for next year's Pride, because unfortunately some of them won't make it that long.

In parts of the country where this work has been going on a long time, and victories like marriage equality aren't even so new anymore, there's an air of battle fatigue. People have told me, repeatedly, when I raise this issue, that "we marched in that parade, back in the 'eighties!" as if that means the work is done.  Dude, that's great, but someone who was born in the 'eighties didn't see you there.  She needs to see you today.

What I and the leadership of Integrity is asking you to pray on and consider, is how you (No, not her.  You.  Well, her too.  But right now, this is about you.) can be Integrity, right where you are.  It doesn't have to mean going to a chapter social for bad coffee once a month or running for a committee position.  We're inviting you -- here and now -- to blow the doors off that model if it doesn't work for you.  We want to know what you think will work for your parish, for your diocese, for your community, that queer kid you know who thinks all religion is evil.

As we have mentioned in prior posts, we are actively looking to recruit Diocesan Organizers who are connected to what is going on in their area and will work with us to connect with more bishops, congregations and ministry organizations.  We need thoughtful writers to share first-person witness on how LGBT inclusion intersects with their own faith stories.  We need voices representing the church at marriage equality events, protests and rallies.  We need people to simply speak up when people say Christianity and LGBT folks can't or shouldn't mix, and say, "Well, actually...."

Maybe you're already doing these things.  If you are, we want to know about it, so we can tell others the good news.  And we want to know how Integrity can help you do more, reach further, and feel like you're part of a bigger picture.

We've been told -- and we believe -- there are many folks out there who would consider (or reconsider) a church home if they were convincingly told a place exists where they would be truly safe, welcomed and even celebrated.  We know such places exist, because we've seen them.  To bring the two together, thousands on thousands, one at a time, will take the effort of all of us.  We want to know what you're willing to bring to the table.

Are you a current, active Integrity member?  If you have thought about it, used to be.... please prayerfully consider recommitting.  Is your parish connected to either Believe Out Loud, our Parish Partner Program, or both?  Maybe they would be if they knew it was important to you.

These are both annual commitments and we know they slip people's minds, but we need your support and involvement just as much, if not more, today as ever.

Again, the rest is open to discussion.  If this message has touched you even a little, please introduce yourself to your Provincial Coordinator and let them know who you are, where you are, and why this work matters to you. 

We recently published our updated Mission and Vision. In case you missed it, here they are again:

Our Mission

Integrity USA's mission is to inspire and equip the Episcopal Church, its dioceses, congregations, and members to proclaim and embody God’s all-inclusive love for LGBTQ persons and those who love them.

Our Vision

Integrity's vision of its success is that The Episcopal Church thrives as a beacon of love, justice, and compassion, where ALL PEOPLE are equally embraced and empowered.

If that sounds like a lot of work, it's because it is.  To make it reality is going to take commitment from a whole lot of us, but it can be done.  The Christmas story sounds pretty far-fetched, too, but somehow, in spite of human nature and great odds, we make it real by being just a little bit kinder to one another every year, if only for a few days.  Like Christmas, the good news message we share at Pride could be extended further, to more people and more places, so that what we know about God's love extends to all genders and orientations and classes and colors, and becomes real to those whom we meet who have been taught to think it was not possible.

All you have to do is believe.

Christian Paolino is the Chair of Integrity's Stakeholders' Council and Diocesan Organizer (Newark). A graduate of William Paterson University and The New School, he blogs at The Verge of Jordan.

On World Refugee Day, Integrity Remembers LGBT Asylum Seekers

Friday, June 20th, is World Refugee Day, when the plight of displaced persons around the world is upheld for advocacy and prayer.  The Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, the Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts-Schori, issued a statement which says, in part:

"Remember in prayer all who flee persecution and suffering in search of security and peace, remember the baptismal promise to strive for justice and peace, and reaffirm our commitment to welcoming the stranger as Christ himself."

Throughout 2014, Integrity has shared messages from the LGBT Faith Asylum Network, an organization led by our former Executive Director, Max Niedzwiecki.  Max also addressed the April meeting of the Integrity Stakeholders' Council.

LGBT-FAN helps connect LGBT asylum seekers with individuals and groups who are willing to help with housing, job placement, the asylum/immigration process, and spiritual care.  Where possible, they help to foster a community for these displaced people by guiding them to places where others share their cultural/ethnic experience.  In addition, LGBT-FAN seeks to educate faith communities about the struggles LGBT asylum seekers face, in the hope of building much-needed additional support and outreach.

The situation for LGBT people in many countries throughout the world is dire.

• There are laws against homosexuality in over 80 countries around the world.
• In over 70 countries, you could be imprisoned if you are part of the LGBT community.
• In 7 of those countries, the punishment is the death penalty
• In some of those countries "corrective rape" is common and sometimes committed by government officials.

In the past year, Nigeria, Uganda, India and Russia all created new anti-homosexuality laws.  Violence has increased against LGBT people, often with the tacit approval of government officials and church leaders.  The Anglican archbishops of Uganda and Nigeria, along with their backers in the West, have voiced their approval for the new legislation in those countries.

Once here, asylum seekers are not eligible for government social services nor permitted to seek employment for at least six months, while they are trying to sort through the immigration/asylum process, often without the funds to pay for legal help.

On this World Refugee Day, we ask that you learn more about the work of LGBT-FAN and consider whether you are being called to assist their work in some way.  We ask that you speak about the plight of LGBT asylum seekers within your faith communities; there is a good deal of information available on the organization's web site for sharing.  You can read first-person accounts from some of the people they have been able to help, learn about the innovative ways different groups are providing assistance, and consider whether a program might be possible in your area.

Some LGBT groups have elected to dedicate part of their presence at Pride events toward building awareness of the LGBT refugee community.  Reflecting the need for anonymity or their "facelessness" situation, asylum seekers or those representing them wear masks or even bags over their heads, carried placards, etc.

Please hold LGBT asylum seekers and those working to assist them in your prayers as they attempt to find a safe home where they can live authentically without fear.

Christian Paolino is the chair of Integrity's Stakeholders' Council