Have you ever experienced grief? Have you ever experienced the loss of a relationship or job? These...
Longtime Plymouth Church member Charlie Marsh gave this sermon June 2, 2024, during our worship service. While his sermon was timed to coincide with Pride month, as an open and affirming congregation we embrace the LGBTQIA+ community every day, as we strive to be an inclusive church sharing the life and teachings of Jesus as a healing manifestation of God’s love and presence in the world.
My family’s ties to the West Newbury Congregational UCC Church go back to the 1960s. My grandfather was the pastor there, and we would visit regularly while I was growing up. My brother and his wife recently moved back to West Newbury and asked me to participate in the church’s Open and Affirming (ONA) process. I must not have sabotaged the effort too gravely as last month, they voted unanimously to become an ONA church. As part of this process, I was asked to prepare a reflection on the important people and institutions in my life as a gay individual. As we celebrate Pride month, I’m honored to be able to share that reflection with you.
In preparing this writing, I kept returning to the word “example.” My reflections brought to mind examples I’ve encountered of intolerance and rejection, of acceptance and affirmation – both in my personal life and in the media. The word “example” kept returning to my mind so often that I decided to look up its definition.
Derived from Latin “exemplum,” the meanings include:
- A story demonstrating a moral point; a parable.
- A model, a pattern, an original or an ideal
Here then, is a rough chronology of the examples I encountered:
I have no memory of meeting an openly gay individual until I was in college. As far as I knew, none of our family friends were LGBT. I don’t remember ever hearing our parents or relatives discussing or even mentioning the topic. I learned after the fact that a handful of people I knew in high school were gay, but I didn’t know at the time.
I can only recall two examples of LGBT characters in the media from my childhood. A favorite book read to us by our parents was The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde. In that story, the swallow sent by the statue of the prince to describe the surrounding city sees two homeless boys huddled together for warmth underneath a bridge. They had been turned out into the rain by a night watchman. The other example I can recall are the gay assassins from the James Bond film Diamonds Are Forever – Mr. Witn and Mr. Kidd.
The waifs from the Wilde story serve to point at societal injustice. And while Mr. Kidd and Mr. Wint were homicidal maniacs, they had skill, agency and they commanded respect – they weren’t your typical stereotypical gay caricatures. Unfortunately, both pairs of characters come to pathetic ends in their respective stories.
Later media representations I encountered weren’t much better – No Way Out and Ace Ventura come to mind. I envy queer folk born more recently than myself. The examples they’ve had in the media growing up – Will & Grace during the ‘90s or Heartstopper more recently. From the latter, I personally love an exchange between a mother, played by Olivia Colman, and her son Nick, who is coming out to her as bisexual.
“It’s called bisexuality, mum,” says Nick.
“I know, I wasn’t born in the 18th century,” Colman’s character responds.
I was bullied in high school and even to some extent in college, but I wouldn’t say that the majority of it was homophobic. “Queer” was often a catchall sort of insult. I hadn’t yet worked out that I was gay, so I didn’t really feel targeted for that reason. The self-loathing that I experienced was mainly due to my repressed sexual orientation. My family – both my parents and my siblings – were always very supportive and never gave me cause to be ashamed of who I was. However, I did experience enough in the way of suicidal ideation to be able to say that I have personal experience in how negative stereotypes and lack of positive examples can have a serious impact on one’s mental health and feelings of self-worth.
In high school, the only mention of same-sex relationships in the curriculum that I can remember was in a film about Alvin Toffler’s book Future Shock. In one scene, the film depicts a traditional-looking wedding in which two men get married. The scene was greeted by shouts of disgust and derision from my classmates. No discussion ensued.
“We come from old Virigina, where all is bright and gay” is a line from our college song. I feel it is quite unnecessary to describe the hand gestures that accompanied those lyrics when sung after touchdowns at Scott Stadium.
As I’m sure you’ve gathered by now, the examples I’m able to recall are not great.
We were raised in the Catholic faith because of our mother’s background. I was attending mass at our campus Catholic parish during graduate school when the priest, Father Jim, said: “On this day of pridefest, we send our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters a message of love and support.” For me, that represented a turning point. I was actively questioning my sexual orientation by that time, and to hear an unequivocal message of affirmation from a Catholic priest was extremely impactful.
Our participation in the Catholic church fizzled out during the ‘80s, and we gravitated towards my father’s church – the First Congregational United Church of Christ in Washington D.C. This church voted to become ONA in 1987 – a detail that I strangely don’t recall. I believe we started attending shortly after.
An important figure at that institution for me was the music director, John Shepherd. He was openly gay and his partner Randy was also a member of the church. John was a lovely man and an accomplished musician and was very inspirational to me. Since then, my involvement in church has mainly centered around music. John once played a Haydn sonata during service and he gave me the sheet music for it. I remember him fondly whenever I play it now. To see an openly gay man playing such an important leadership role in worship was truly inspiring to me.
During my time at First Church, I became a youth group leader. As we only had a few teenagers in our congregation, we participated in an ecumenical group with several other local congregations. I’m not sure what precipitated the discussion, but I reached out to our pastor, John Mack, to let him know that I was gay in case the word got out and any parents from the other churches raised any objections. I didn’t want him to be blindsided. John told me that if any issues did arise, withdrawing from the youth group would be the only option. I didn’t understand what he meant for a moment – but then he made it clear: If any objections were raised, our entire church would withdraw from participating. This, to me, showed that First Church was ready to back up its stated resolution with decisive action.
I recently learned a saying that has been resonating with me lately. The saying goes: “The Bible isn’t the Word of God; the Word of God is what you hear when you read the Bible.”
So, what are some of the words of God I hear when I read the Bible?
A favorite passage of mine is from Matthew in which Jesus and the disciples are admonished for picking grain to eat on the Sabbath. I’ve always understood that episode to demonstrate that Jesus valued caring for one’s fellow human beings over strict adherence to the law. “Mercy over sacrifice.”
Another scripture passage that inspired me was found in the story of the cities of the plain from The Book of Genesis. Lot was so devoted to the tradition of hospitality that he risked violence to his own family rather than put his mysterious, angelic guests at risk. I’m reminded of arriving at PrideFest in Milwaukee to be greeted by picketers brandishing signs that read, “Remember the crime of Sodom.” I still wish I’d gotten around to making an Ezekiel 16:49 placard to wave back at them. In that passage, the prophet declares that the crime of the Sodomites was that they hoarded their wealth and neglected to care for the poor.
Another passage I find inspiring is the one in which Philip encountered the Ethiopian Eunuch and agrees to read scripture with and baptize him. The Eunuch, because of his physical alteration, would have been considered an “other” and deemed unfit to participate in temple rituals. Reaching out to and welcoming the “others” is a feature of Jesus’ ministry that has always been inspiring to me.
From the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus’ reference to salt, light and the city on the hill resonates as well. Countless politicians have used “the city” to further their agendas. I see the city on the hill as an inspiration to widely proclaim the church’s corporate stance – to broadcast a welcoming message of inclusivity.
In early 1992, when I was preparing to move from Baltimore to Milwaukee, I asked John and Barbara, our pastors at First Church, if they had any knowledge or connections with any congregations in Milwaukee. They knew about Plymouth United Church of Christ, which had recently become an ONA congregation, and a few others. I decided to start with Plymouth. On my first day there, I revealed that I sang tenor and was interested in joining the choir. It was love at first sight. I arrived at Plymouth on that initial day knowing that I would be welcomed for who I am. I knew that the people there, by adopting their ONA resolution, had already decided to accept me without ever having actually met me. I knew that I would be welcomed on committees, invited to teach Sunday school, invited to participate in mission projects. I knew that my relationships would be upheld and celebrated.
Plymouth has been a very important part of my life for the last 32 years (it’s hard to believe it's been so long). Pastor Mary Ann Neevel presided over my wedding to my late partner Dan. Both pastor Mary Ann and Associate Pastor Andrew Warner, as well as members of the congregation, were very supportive during Dan’s final illness. Andrew took over as pastor after Mary Ann’s retirement and he and his husband Jay and their two boys led that community as a family for over a decade. I’ve remained a presence in the music program, singing in the chancel choir and the Plymouth-based community chorale. I spent several years teaching Sunday School and serving as a confirmation class leader. The fact that my participation in those programs as an LGBT member has been uplifted and celebrated rather than simply being acknowledged or tolerated has been very important to me.
At the beginning of every worship service at Plymouth, our liturgist reaffirms our commitment to being an ONA congregation. We reaffirm our commitment to being a physically accessible institution and have backed up that commitment by reconfiguring our stairwells and installing an elevator during a renovation of our Gothic Revival building several years ago. Also reaffirmed is the fact that our building stands on land whose indigenous caretakers are the Menominee, Potawatomi and Ho-Chunk people. Our congregation has supported a local Native American artist in publishing their work and has conducted youth mission trips to Pine Ridge in South Dakota.
What does street-level action on our ONA resolution look like? Beyond individual welcome, our congregation has hosted same-sex wedding ceremonies, LGBT support groups, provided musical and theatrical performance space, been a presence at the Milwaukee Pride Parade and PrideFest celebrations and support Pathfinders – a teen homelessness program whose beneficiaries are mainly LGBT youth.
Just last week I was in conversation with a Plymouth member who was present during our ONA process. She remembered members questioning why they needed to adopt the resolution and covenant when they felt they were already a community that welcomes LGBT individuals. A lesbian member at the time pointed out that individual welcoming, while certainly important, isn’t the same and doesn’t serve the same purpose as a public, corporate statement.
I’ve recently discovered a British academic who has written extensively about LGBT representation in the media. His work has opened my eyes to some of the unique challenges faced by other members of the LGBTQIA+ community including those who are bisexual, transgender or asexual. I have to confess to having been either ignorant of those challenges or at a loss to fully understand them. Upon reflection, I recalled several times that I had failed to be welcoming to people in my sphere whose identities and personal expression I didn’t fully understand. I suppose one of the lessons from those situations was that an inability to fully understand shouldn’t be an obstacle to being welcoming and accepting.
I work in the advertising industry. I currently work mainly with web banners, but I’ve sponged up a little brand strategy over the decades I’ve spent in the industry. At the risk of divulging trade secrets, our assignment briefs contain the proposed answers to questions like: “Who is our target audience? What is our core consumer insight/truth? What are we trying to get the audience to do?” Branding is an opportunity to take a corporate stance – to communicate to the wider world one’s corporate identity. In the context of a faith community, “corporate” meaning members of the body of Christ as St. Paul would have it – to be a public example of a chosen ethos. So, what might an advertising assignment brief for this process look like? On cursory reflection, our target audience is anyone. That includes members of the LGBT community who may have felt unwelcome in other faith communities and who might be looking for a spiritual home. It includes families who want to ensure that as their children grow, they have positive examples of acceptance and tolerance. Our core insight/truth is that we are all made in God’s image and loved by God. What are we trying to get the audience to do? To know that they are valued, respected and that they will be welcomed into our community of faith.
As my dear friend Donna often says, “I’d rather be lucky than good any day.” I’d like to leave you with a verse from a favorite hymn of mine. I recently discovered that the writer of the hymn, George Rawson, was inspired by a speech by John Robinson, a leader of the pilgrims who founded the Plymouth Colony which was used by LGBT leaders within the US Presbyterian Church as the name of their “More Light” movement.
The verse reads:
We limit not the truth of God
to our poor reach of mind,
to notions of our day and sect,
crude, partial and confined:
no, let a new and better hope
within our hearts be stirred:
the Lord has yet more light and truth
to break forth from his word.
May we be inspired to be welcoming and accepting, both as individuals and as a community. May we be the city on the hill, visible and accessible to all. May we let our light so shine.
