30 June 2011

Preaching gently to the choir #WGF11


The following is a re-post of a comment I left earlier today on Peterson Toscano's blog. Peterson is a Quaker performance artist and activist. He grew up within the conservative evangelical church, and spent 17 years in various "ex-gay" programs, trying without success to change his sexual identity. After coming to his senses and coming out as a gay man, Peterson (who is one of the funniest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting) turned his painful history into a comedic one-man show, Doin' Time in the Homo No Mo' Halfway House - How I Survived the Ex-Gay Movement! which exposes some of the suffering inflicted by that movement. When the time came for him to move on from re-living that part of his life, he set about working on self-formation as a strong and eloquent ally for transgender folk, many of whom still suffer more constant, serious oppression than their lesbian, gay, and bisexual brothers and sisters - and sometimes face discrimination and ignorance from LGB folks themselves. Among other things, Peterson began combing the Bible, together with trans* Christian friends, and found gold nuggets of story that could be interpreted - at least speculatively - in a trans*-positive way. These became Transfigurations - Transgressing Gender in the Bible, a new piece of comedic performance art. Peterson has also done a bunch of other cool stuff. He performed and spoke this past weekend at the Wild Goose Festival, excerpting from both of these works, and he rocked my world.

The post on which I commented was called What I carried into Wild Goose, and in it, Peterson confesses his frustration with Christian leaders in a conservative evangelical context, who privately sympathize with the plight of their LGBTQ sisters and brothers, but who are not willing to take the risks involved with publicly saying so. Go, read it, and while you're there, check out some more of Peterson's wisdom, witness, and humor. My comment follows:

Peterson, thanks for this. Your thoughtful, faithful honesty and courage continues to humble me. I think a related – yet not identical – problem is people like me. I’ve never been part of the conservative evangelical world. I grew up outside the Church, and I’m now a part of two churches: a middle-sized, traditional-ish Episcopal church, and a very small (30-40 adults plus kids) trans-denominational “emerging” church. Both of my church communities are very progressive, open, and welcoming, with LGBTQ folks demonstrably welcome (including in leadership positions), though neither is by any means perfect. As an individual (and, to some extent, a leader) in these communities, I have always been open and honest about my unequivocal belief in equality regardless of sexual or gender identity – but it has been far too easy for me to act as if there’s no particular need for me to do more than that. I mean “the Church”, for me (that is, the rather open and progressive communities I’m personally a part of), is doing OK, right? This boat’s not in need of rockin’. We’re all equal and welcome and loved, and all’s right in the world.

And this, while I’ve also campaigned for years for the idea that we need to think and act and connect outside our parochial little tribal worlds – that the Church is so much bigger than that. This, while I’ve been a part of a community that, despite its small size, incarnates that idea by including and celebrating folks of so many different church backgrounds – Anglicans and Methodists and Charismatic/Pentecostals and Brethren and Catholics and agnostics and Lutherans and Presbyterians and atheists and Baptists and, yes, Evangelicals coming together as one Body of Christ – not uniform, but together in community. This, while I’ve been active in Emergent Village, which in this respect (ecclesiological diversity) looks like my little church writ large. So what exactly is my excuse, living as I am within these larger, ecclesiologically diverse contexts, for thinking and acting on such a small, safe, limited scale when it comes to the place of my LGBTQ brothers and sisters? Well…er…um…it sure has been easier for me that way….

Well, brother, all I can say at this point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been so silent for so long. But I hear you loud and clear, and you (along with many other folks I was blessed to spend time with at the Goose) have finally spoken to me with words and witness that have managed to penetrate my thick head and heart – words and witness that the Spirit has been trying to get through to me for some time now, I believe, though I’m well-practiced at ignoring her. I’ve begun work in allowing myself to be formed as an ally. I hope I’ll be led to ways I can help. And I thank you, again, for your witness.

(And if anyone else reading this is like me – straight, cisgender, liberal, progressive, living and perhaps leading in liberal/progressive contexts, preaching gently to the choir, enjoying the safety and affirmation of that situation, and feeling OK about our place in this changing world – can I suggest that we ask ourselves, our LGBTQ friends, and the Spirit if that’s really all we’re called to at this moment in history? The Body of Christ is bigger than our little progressive ghettos, and the Church as a whole is responsible for great pain and suffering, every day. Are we being called to help do something about that? Are we listening?)

photo by celebdu (rights)

The Wild Goose is not safe #WGF11


This past weekend, I attended the Wild Goose Festival, in Shakori Hills, NC, with something like 1700 other...I dunno...misfits for Jesus? Something like that. It was "a festival of justice, spirituality, music and the arts...rooted in the Christian tradition and therefore open to all regardless of belief, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, denomination or religious affiliation." It was amazing. For four days, we camped, walked, talked, listened, sat, ate, drank, hugged, laughed, prayed, sang, danced, and wept together.

The Wild Goose is a Celtic metaphor for the Holy Spirit. She blows where she will, and (like Aslan in the Narnia books), she is not safe. I have felt her gentle breeze before, as it gently grabbed me by the ankle, turned me upside down, and banged my head repeatedly into the ground, after repeated attempts to whisper vital information into my ear and heart had proved noneffective.

I can't speak for any of my fellow Goose people, though I suspect I'm not alone. I don't really know if I went to this gathering - a gathering named for God's dynamic Spirit - expecting to come home unchanged. All I know is, that's not what happened.

I'll be a while sorting out all the ways this past weekend has affected me. I'll probably follow up this post with some more reflective posts on that topic. For right now, I'm actually using my blog (which I haven't used much, lately) for a very practical purpose.

The one thing that I feel clearly seared into my heart following my experiences at the Goose - the one thing that is prompting me to begin a process of formation leading (relatively quickly, I hope) to action - is a much-belated conviction that I have been a piss-poor ally (really, not worthy of that title at all) to my Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender sisters and brothers, despite the fact that I am a card carrying member of the institution that is doing more than any other to cause pain, suffering, and injustice for folks in those communities - that is, the Church.

I have many people to thank for this change of heart - long-time friends and folks I'd never met before this weekend. I won't try to list them all here - many of them will probably turn up in future blog posts - but I do want to mention my dear friend Rachel Swan. (Who will probably be like, "wha??" since she and I hardly talked about these issues at all this past weekend, despite spending lots of hours together and in company with others who were discussing these topics.) I want to mention Rachel, because just about all of the Spirit-leading I experienced at the Goose - in this area at least - flowed in one way or another from our friendship. Rachel, dear, thank you for being you - and thank God, too, for making you that way. :-)

In light of my experience, I am beginning an intentional process of opening myself to formation as an ally - one who actually uses his voice, risks and spends his privilege, and potentially helps make a difference in the world (and more specifically in the Church) in solidarity with my LGBTQ brothers and sisters.

As I begin that process, I think I'll use this blog to record resources and stepping stones I find along the path that seem helpful. I'm doing this for my own accountability, and also as a potential resource for others who might be feeling this particular call from the Wild Goose of God's Spirit.

So here's one, via Brian Gerald Murphy: a challenging talk from Dr. Omi Osun Joni L. Jones on "6 rules for Allies". (Thanks, Brian!)



More to come, Goose willing....

-----

I've never participated in a synchroblog before, and this post was not originally intended to be part of a synchroblog, but now it is, and I think I'm supposed to (and it's my pleasure to) link to the host of amazing folks who are also blogging about the Goose:


  • Anna Snoeyenbos – Wild Goose Festival – A Spirit of Life Revival

  • Lee Smith - Goose Bumps: Opportunities Everywhere for Offense. A Fair and Objective Review

  • Ryan Hines – 30 Years Later – “Controversy” at Wild Goose

  • Karyn Wiseman – Flying With the Goose

  • Kyla Cofer – I went to the Wild Goose Fest and came back in love

  • Brian Gerald Murphy – Born Again (Again) at Wild Goose

  • Chris Lenshyn – Chasing the Wild Goose

  • Cherie at Renaissance Garden – Wild Goose Return

  • Deborah Wise – Wild Goose Chasing

  • Custodianseed – “every day they eat boiled goose”

  • Will Norman – Back from the Wild Goose Fest

  • Martin at Exiles in NY – Greenbelt and the Wild Goose

  • Kerri at Practicing Contemplative – Waterfowl in My Life

  • Allison Leigh Lilley – Chasing the Wild Goose and Catching the Wild Goose: Thanks and First Thoughts

  • Abbie Waters – Jessica: A Fable

  • Steve Knight – Why Wild Goose Festival Was So Magical

  • Tammy Carter – Visual Acuity and Flying

  • Michelle Thorburg Hammond – I heart Jay Bakker and Peter Rollins

  • Matthew Bolz-Weber – Remembering Wild Goose

  • Paul Fromberg – Celebrating Interdependence Day

  • David Zimmerman – Wild Goose Festival: A Recap

  • Dan Brennan – U2, the Wild Goose, and Deep Freedom

  • Mike Croghan – The Wild Goose is Not Safe

  • John Martinez – The Table

  • Callid Keefe-Perry – Gatekeeping the Goose

  • Eric Elnes – The Inaugural Wild Goose Festival: Recovering Something Lost

  • Shay Kearns – The Power of a T-Shirt, Apologizing to Over the Rhine, and Public vs. Private (Part One)

  • Glen Reteif – Duck Duck Goose

  • Peterson Toscano – I’ve Been Goosed, What I Carried Into Wild Goose, and What I Blurted Out at Wild Goose

  • Seth Donovan – About More than “The Gays”

  • TSmith – What I’ll Take From Wild Goose

  • Dale Lature – Wild Goose Reflection

  • Steve Hayes – Wild Goose Chase?

  • Minnow – Grace Response

  • Christine Sine – Encounters With A Thin Space

  • Jeremy Myers – Giving Up the Wild Goose Chase

  • Robert – Thoughts On the Inaugural Wild Goose

  • Anna Woofenden – Slippery Slope Reflections

  • Wendy McCaig – Loosing The Goose

  • Joey Wahoo – Into The Wild

  • And also (unofficially) my amazing friend Rachel!

    Rachel Swan – Goosed

    Peace!

    photo courtesy of Kirsti Reeve, used gratefully with permission