The Beloved Physician

 




St. Luke's Day Sermon
by The Rev. Dr. Carlos Sandoval, MD, psychiatrist and Episcopal priest in the diocese of Southeast Florida. 

I swear by Apollo, the healer, Asclepius, Hygieia, and Panacea, and I take to witness all the gods, all the goddesses, to keep according to my ability and my judgment, the following Oath and agreement: I will prescribe regimens for the good of my patients according to my ability and my judgment and never do harm to anyone. I will not give a lethal drug to anyone if I am asked, nor will I advise such a plan. But I will preserve the purity of my life and my arts. In every house where I come I will enter only for the good of my patients, keeping myself far from all intentional ill doing. If I keep this oath faithfully, may I enjoy my life and practice my art, respected by all men and in all times; but if I swerve from it or violate it, may the reverse be my lot.

This is an excerpt from the Oath of Hippocrates, written around 400 B.C. I only recently have been reciting a modernized version of it as part of my morning prayers. This is the oath that Lucanus, a Greek physician, swore by when he graduated from medical school in Tarsus or maybe its rival school in Alexandria. Today Lucanus is known as Saint Luke, and today the church honors St. Luke, whom Saint Paul called most dear physician. Luke fascinates me because I see that my steps have followed his, though I did not realize it at the time I was heading into the field of medicine, and afterwards into the priesthood.

What do we know of Luke the physician, a native of the Greek city of Antioch? Some think he may have been a former slave or the son of a freedman. It is also believed he was a ship’s physician, as he seems to have known in detail many of the coastlines of his part of the Mediterranean. Why would this Gentile become a Christian? Perhaps, as the years went by and he witnessed all manner of human suffering, he realized that the gods of the ancient world were nothing more than petty super-heroes, with their multiple affairs, jealousies, and squabbles - gods who cared nothing for the welfare of humankind. Perhaps Luke questioned the very existence of any of the gods, or of the idea of one God. I know that I have questioned God’s existence many times, and still continue to have my own struggles in faith.

But the Greeks also had a belief in the unknown God, and perhaps Luke sought him as he questioned the meaning of life itself. Somehow, he learned of the life and death of Jesus the Christ and saw in him the God he was seeking. Perhaps this occurred when he met Saint Paul in Tarsus. Then, to find out all he could about the life and teachings of Jesus, whom he never saw, Luke must have visited all the places where Jesus had been, questioning everyone who had known Him or heard Him preach, including His mother, Mary. At last, when he had gathered all information possible, he wrote down what we now know as the Gospel according to St. Luke.

How could anyone not love Luke, the only Gentile author in the Bible? Luke wrote not one, but two books in the Bible – his gospel and also the Acts of the Apostles. Acts is the story of how the apostles began to teach the message of Jesus after his ascension. A good part of it is his eyewitness account, for Luke became Saint Paul’s travel companion and stayed with him until Paul was martyred. Luke tells us how the Church began to grow and spread. Luke alone reports the Annunciation, the Birth of Jesus, and the Flight of the Holy Family into Egypt. Only Luke records the Song of Mary and the Song of Simeon, which I now sing in the Cathedral’s Anglican Chorale.

Imagine Luke meeting Mary for the first time, kneeling before her and kissing her work-worn hands. “I am Lucanus, a Greek physician, Lady. I have come a long way to see you, for I love and serve your Son, though I have never seen him except in my dreams. Please tell me about your son!” These are Luke’s first words to Mary in Taylor Caldwell’s book, “Dear and Glorious Physician.” Imagine the talks Luke had with the Blessed mother as she told him about her son, as she showed him a chair or table that Jesus had made, as she told him how happy he was as a little boy, and as she became very still and serious when she recalled his suffering and her own. I can imagine Luke’s final meeting with Mary, touching her feet with his lips, and weeping in reverence and love. Perhaps he saw in Mary his own mother, she who is mother to us all, and the most blessed of women.

Luke is unique in his attention to children and women, whom he treats with the greatest respect – and to the poor, the outcast, the marginalized, the disadvantaged, and the suffering. As I read his gospel I know what he is talking about. Like Luke, I have traveled to many places and have seen the plight of people in the many parts of the world where I have lived and traveled, including our own country, and this city of Miami. To think that we, the United States, one of the most powerful countries in the world, are squabbling to come up with some sort of universal health care coverage is shameful. Luke is unique among the gospel writers because he has the keen eye of a physician, and sees the wounded of the world every day.

As a physician and as a priest I tell you that Luke has taught me a lot. Luke understands that illness is more than being sick. Illness marginalizes the individual from the community. The individual who is ill has something that those surrounding him do not have. Many of my patients have told me that they feel abandoned and isolated from their family and friends because of their illness. Abandonment and isolation are among the worst conditions that one can suffer. That is why Luke recounts the story of how the only person who is willing to help a wounded Jewish traveler, abandoned on the side of a dusty road and ignored by his own people, is a Samaritan.

Though the Samaritans were also of Hebrew extraction, believed in the same God of Abraham, and had the same books of the Torah, they were considered half-breeds and inferiors by their Jewish neighbors. But it is this outcast, the Good Samaritan, who helps a Jewish man in need. Luke the Gentile tells us this story to let the world know that the gospel of Christ is for everyone – Gentiles, Samaritans, Jews and non-Jews – no one is excluded.

Luke teaches me what my goal as a physician, priest, and Christian should be. It is to help reintegrate into society those who feel outcast and marginalized. This may be due to physical or mental illness, or due to other factors such as prejudice, ignorance, language or cultural barriers. I have been a physician 26 years, and I was ordained a deacon 21 years ago. I have seen how we humans treat each other poorly because of our differences. I do know what it is to be marginalized and also be untouchable. When my father, a captain in the US Air Force, retired and we moved to Miami, I was called a spic, and told I should return to Cuba, even though I was born in the United States, and on an Air Force base, no less! As a medical student I contracted tuberculosis from my patients, was put into isolation and quarantine for several weeks, and still have a scar on my lung to prove it. When I was discharged from the hospital, and considered “safe,” my food was still brought to me on paper plates, and some relatives completely avoided me for weeks.

When I worked as a missionary for the Episcopal Church in Ecuador, I contracted Hepatitis A, and was so sick that I lost twenty pounds in a couple of weeks. I was hallucinating and wanted to die. Not even my bishop would visit me. But he did tell me that if after two weeks I did not recover fully, he would dock half of my pay. At a hundred dollars a month, I could not afford to get only fifty! Many in the church have told me that I was not worthy of God’s love because I am gay. Earlier this year, when I was a candidate for Bishop of Ecuador, I was told that as well. A few years ago I applied to the Air Force Reserve and they told me they would love to have me either as a physician or a chaplain, as long as I signed a document swearing I wasn’t gay, and hid it. Some well-meaning relatives and parishioners still feel that way. How do you hide a six foot two man who weighs 220 pounds – excuse me, 223 pounds?

I share my personal life with you because I want you to know that when a patient or a parishioner shares with me what troubles them, I can honestly say I understand. I understand what it is to be an outcast, not good enough for this country nor the church. I have been told both, and at one time believed it. I understand how illness can marginalize you. It has happened to me. I have been bitter at times and have cried in dejection. I suppose that along with the scar on my lung, I also have several invisible scars I am not even aware of. Aeschylus, the Greek playwright, reminds us that if we would learn we must suffer.

The Jesus that Luke reveals to me in his gospel teaches me to always love in return. “Father, forgive, them for they know not what they do!” While I cannot say that I am always successful in this endeavor, I do try. What Aeschylus does not mention is that humor and laughter can bring learning as well. Luke tells us the story of Zacchaeus, a very short tax collector, who really wanted to see Jesus when he came to the town of Jericho, so he climbed up a sycamore tree. Jesus did see him in the tree, and shouted: “Zacchaeus, make haste to come down; for I must stay at your house today.” That was a happy day for this very short tax collector whom everyone hated. Perhaps he was actually a kindly and generous man. After his invitation to be the host for Jesus, we know that he must have become a more gracious man.

There have been happy and funny incidents in my life. When I was an exhausted intern at the Labor and Delivery department at Jackson Memorial Hospital, as I awaited the afterbirth after having safely delivered a woman’s baby, I fell asleep on her thigh. Can you imagine her reaching over and touching my head, saying: “Doctor, doctor, please wake up!” One of the reasons I switched to psychiatry was due to the fact that I do not do well with all-nighters!

There have been incredible advances in medicine since the time of Luke, but we still don’t have a cure for all maladies. I have witnessed several healings, which one could regard as miraculous. But in many cases all we can do is to treat the illness, delay its progression, and add years to a patient’s life. For ten years I worked as a psychiatrist among people living with terminal illness such as cancer and AIDS. I frequently became disheartened at the long-term prognosis, lying awake at night, wondering why these things happen, and questioning the apparent futility of my ministrations. The insomnia was getting worse, and one day, when I was having a real crisis of faith, I called Bishop Schofield and told him what was happening to me. “I don’t know if I believe in God anymore, Bishop, what do I do?” So Bishop Schofield took me sailing, gave me a couple of beers, and while he gave me no answer, I felt a lot better after the sailing trip. Sometimes in life all you can do is catch the wind and go sailing! We cannot cure every illness, but if we can give the sick comfort and a sense of purpose and belonging to the community, then we have given them healing. This is a wonderful thing!

Luke teaches, however, that there is something else we can offer. Luke tells us the story of ten lepers who approach Jesus on his way to Jerusalem seeking a cure. All ten were cured of leprosy, and could reintegrate themselves to their community, but only one, the Samaritan, a gentile and therefore an outcast, had a change in heart. “When he saw that he was healed, he turned back; praising God with a loud voice, he prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.” Jesus replied, “Your faith has made you well!” Jesus had offered him the gift of salvation. He was not only reintegrated to the community, but was reconciled with God. This is a state of total wellbeing, in body, mind and spirit. This is what the World Health Organization defines as health. This truly encompasses what it is to be human, and to be made in the image and likeness of God. This is the fullness of being that accepting God into our lives offers.

Luke’s gospel has taught me not only to restore the isolated individual to the community, but also to offer the dimension of faith. Faith is to be known and loved as Christ’s own forever, just as our baptism states. Dear and Glorious physician you have taught me much. Thank you for showing me how to find Christ in all those I minister to.

I would end with a hymn that the Orthodox Church uses for the Feast of Saint Luke.

Let us praise with sacred songs the Holy Apostle Luke,
The recorder of the joyous Gospel of Christ,
And the scribe of the Acts of the Apostles.
Luke’s writings are a testimony of the Church of Christ:
He is the Physician of human weaknesses and infirmities.
He heals the wounds of our souls,
And constantly intercedes for our salvation!
Luke, you became a disciple of God the Word,
With Paul you enlightened the entire world,
Casting out its darkness by composing the Holy Gospel of Christ.
Let us praise the godly Luke: He is the true preacher of piety,
He is the orator of ineffable mysteries And the star of the Church,
Jesus who is the Word, and who alone knows our hearts,
Chose Luke, with the wise Paul, to be a teacher of the gentiles!

Amen.

DUIN: Churches ride immigration wave - Washington Times

DUIN: Churches ride immigration wave - Washington Times

A Shining Target on a Hill That Nobody Tries to Hit

By EUGENE KONTOROVICH
The First Amendment prohibits any "law respecting an establishment of religion," and in recent years the Supreme Court's Establishment Clause cases have focused on religiously themed public displays. Yet the court has failed to develop clear rules for deciding such cases, ensuring further litigation. There is something picayune about these disputes, over courthouse Ten Commandments displays or school-yard crèches. In this term's Establishment Clause case, Salazar v. Bruno, for instance, the justices will soon decide whether an eight-foot cruciform war memorial in a park in the Mojave Desert violates the Constitution.

All the while, the court has never come to grips with the existence of a literal established church on a hill just across town—the National Cathedral. Although the Cathedral helps put issues like those in Salazar in proper perspective, it seems the court can't see the Cathedral for the crosses.

The Cathedral's parent body, the Protestant Episcopal Cathedral Foundation, was "constituted" by an act of Congress in 1893, and the cornerstone was laid in the presence of President Theodore Roosevelt in 1907. The charter Congress issued on the Feast of the Epiphany called on the Foundation to "establish…within the District of Columbia a cathedral . . . for the promotion of religion" and other worthwhile causes.

No one has ever challenged the constitutionality of the Cathedral, and rightly not. The Establishment Clause, as understood for most of the nation's history, does not concern itself with such passive ceremonial nods to religion.

The Cathedral is a private entity. It stands on private land and no public money has ever been used for its construction, maintenance or for any other expenses. Congress has no say in its operations (although the first board of trustees, named in the charter, included the sitting vice president and chief justice). The Cathedral has no formal governmental role.

Yet the chartering had clear religious dimensions. The recognition of the Cathedral's special status has since been abundantly confirmed in practice, with it hosting the inauguration of four out of five of the latest presidents, as well as state funerals, memorial services and, under FDR, "annual national patriotic services." At the Cathedral's final dedication in 1990—private funds take a long time to raise—President George H. W. Bush called it "a house of prayer for the nation."

To be sure, the Cathedral's charter gives it no special prerogatives. Yet its generally undisputed status as the "national" cathedral is owed to the charter, and to its subsequent use for official ceremony. By contrast, when a Washington synagogue dubbed itself the "National Synagogue" several years ago, its claim was not accepted by others and it enjoys no particular distinction.

This setup—official recognition, private management and funding—was arrived at specifically because neither Congress nor the clerics of the time wanted an established church. As Bishop Henry Satterlee, the first head of the Cathedral, put it: "The Framers of the Constitution . . . held, from religious conviction, the necessity of the separation of Church and State. . .Unlike the Medieval Cathedrals of Europe. . .Washington Cathedral will stand on the firm foundation of a Free Church in a Free State—free from any entangling alliance with the government; free to declare the whole Word of God without fear or favor of any political party."

The Cathedral's presumptive constitutionality suggests some broader points about Establishment doctrine. When the Supreme Court attempts to reconcile its increasingly broad prohibition against Establishment with the ubiquity of religious symbolism in public life, it resorts to some dubious distinctions. When the court sustains a particular religious display, it says that the symbols in question do not "endorse" religion, or are denatured—essentially "secular." Yet the governmental use of religious symbols, from among all possible symbols, necessarily reflects a favorable view of faith. To call such displays secular either trivializes the faith of those for whom they are meaningful, or simply underscores that their spiritual message is widely subscribed to.

The existence of the Cathedral illustrates the weaknesses of these tests. "Religious and patriotic associations have [always] been intertwined," Satterlee wrote, and thus some public religious forum is needed to give full scope to peoples' national feeling. (Consider the national motto, or the Pledge of Allegiance.) The Cathedral's charter suggests Congress agreed. It would be hard to pass off a working cathedral as predominantly secular.

While the ACLU and other plaintiffs have scoured public spaces for religious symbols to challenge under the First Amendment, no suit has questioned the Cathedral's constitutionality. That in 120 years Americans of all and no creeds have not found it obnoxious is excellent evidence that it is not. In deciding Salazar, the court would do well to be aware of the full extent and rich history of governmental use of religious symbols, such as the Cathedral. A decision against the Mojave cross could have larger implications than the justices might desire.

Mr. Kontorovich is a professor at Northwestern University School of Law.

Charismatic Generation Gap

Study Shows Charismatic Generation Gap
Monday, 29 March 2010 04:43 PM EDT Adrienne S. Gaines News - Featured News

Some 21 percent of all adults—and a quarter of all Christians—consider themselves Pentecostal or charismatic, according to a new Barna Group poll.

The study found that the demographic crosses denominational, geographic and political lines, with 20 percent of Catholics and 26 percent of Protestants stating that they have been filled with the Holy Spirit and operate in at least one charismatic gift, such as tongues, prophecy or healing. Nearly a quarter of Republicans, 23 percent of Democrats and 21 percent of Independent voters identify themselves as Pentecostal or charismatic.

But the national telephone survey of 1,005 adults found striking generational differences among the group. Baby busters, or those ages 26 to 44, were the most likely to describe themselves as Pentecostal or charismatic, with 29 percent embracing that label. Some 26 percent of Mosaics, or 18- to 25-year-olds, and 25 percent of Christians aged 64 and older described themselves as Pentecostal-charismatic. Only 20 percent of baby boomers, or those between the ages of 45 and 63, described themselves as Pentecostal or charismatic.

Younger Christians-56 percent of Mosaics and 49 percent of baby busters-also were more likely than were baby boomers (44 percent) and older Christians (30 percent) to believe charismatic gifts such as tongues and healing are active and valid today.

Roughly 43 percent of those under age 45 also believe the gift of tongues is valid and active today, compared with 37 percent of those age 45 and older. However, only 7 percent of Mosaic Christians and 9 percent of baby busters said they had spoken in tongues, while 13 percent of the baby boomers and 9 percent of those over age 63 said they had spoken in tongues.

But while they embrace the charismatic gifts, younger generations had unexpected views of the Holy Spirit. Older believers were morel likely to say they "consistently allow their lives to be guided by the Holy Spirit"-64 percent of older Christians and 59 percent of baby boomers, compared with 54 percent of baby busters and 38 percent of Mosaics.

Mosaics were much more likely to believe the Holy Spirit is just a symbol of God's power or presence rather than the third person of the Trinity, with 68 percent saying the Holy Spirit is not a living entity. Though the percentages were lower for the other generations, more than half of the respondents in each group held the same view. Fifty-nine percent of baby busters, 55 percent of baby boomers and 56 percent of older Christians said they believe the Holy Sprit is only symbolic.

For younger Christians, the charismatic, Pentecostal and Spirit-filled labels are not as divisive as they were for their parents' generation, said Barna Group President David Kinnaman. And though they spend less time defending their views, they also seem less certain about what they believe or how to put their faith into action, he added.

Kinnaman said that though the Pentecostal-charismatic community has become more influential in the 50 years since the movement emerged, generational shifts and the flow of Pentecostal theology across diverse denominations have made its beliefs less focused. He believes connecting young Pentecostals and charismatics to better theological training will be vital to the future of the Spirit-filled movement.

"Facing less criticism from within the ranks of Christians, they must focus on being grounded theologically and finding a way to live faithfully within the broader culture of arts, media, technology, science and business," Kinnaman said.

The report comes just days before the anniversary of what many consider to be the start of the charismatic movement. On April 3, 1960, the late Father Dennis Bennett told his Episcopal congregation that he had been baptized in the Holy Spirit and spoke in tongues. The revelation led to his resignation but sparked charismatic renewal among mainline denominations worldwide.

Read more: http://www.charismamag.com/index.php/news/26647-new-study-shows-pentecostal-generation-gap#ixzz0jiu61n7d

Yes...that was a big surprise...LOL! Younger folk are more in tune to experiential religion,a sense of the supernatural, worship that is less structured, involves the emotions and with an openness to the immediate actions of the Holy spirit... sure is true in my parish!

Blessings

seraph

Overture To Catholics, From an Episcopal Priest | Religion & Theology | ReligionDispatches

Overture To Catholics, From an Episcopal Priest | Religion & Theology | ReligionDispatches

Funny sort of tongue in cheek turning of the tables on a rather delicate ecumenical misstep....! Though I must admit, warts and all I love the Episcopal Church!

Blessings

seraph

Pope Practiced Flagellation

VATICAN CITY - Pope John Paul II whipped himself with a belt, even on vacation, and slept on the floor as acts of penitence and to bring him closer to Christian perfection, according to a new book by the Polish prelate spearheading his sainthood case. The book was written by Monsignor Slawomir Oder, the postulator, or main promoter, for John Paul's canonization cause and was released Tuesday. It was based on the testimony of the 114 witnesses and boxes of documentation Oder gathered on John Paul's life to support the case.

At a news conference Tuesday, Oder defended John Paul's practice of self-mortification, which some faithful use to remind them of the suffering of Jesus on the cross. "It's an instrument of Christian perfection," Oder said, responding to questions about how such a practice could be condoned considering Catholic teaching holds that the human body is a gift from God.

In the book, Oder wrote that John Paul frequently denied himself food — especially during the holy season of Lent — and "frequently spent the night on the bare floor," messing up his bed in the morning so he wouldn't draw attention to his act of penitence. "But it wasn't limited to this. As some members of his close entourage in Poland and in the Vatican were able to hear with their own ears, John Paul flagellated himself. In his armoire, amid all the vestments and hanging on a hanger, was a belt which he used as a whip and which he always brought to Castel Gandolfo," the papal retreat where John Paul vacationed each summer. While there had long been rumors that John Paul practiced self-mortification, the book provides the first confirmation and concludes John Paul did so as an example of his faith...

There will be no shortage of raised eyebrows at this revelation that a man we consider an example of holiness and extraordinary virtue included self flagellation among his spiritual disciplines. Yet, the image of John Paul II at whatever age whipping himself with a belt is one that, if we are honest, most of us are not completely comfortable with.

The practice of asceticism as a path to Christian holines has an ancient history. Though not exclusively a Christian practice, it has been present in the church both east and west. The Apostle Paul speaking to the Church at Corinth, speaks of punishing his body and keeping it in servitude. Asceticism, including fasting, limited sleep, work and mortification of the body are in mild forms practiced among Christians today. More severe forms such as self flagellation, found still in popular Holy Week devotions in the Phillipines and Latin America are not officially sanctioned by the church.

For most 21st century American Christians mention of such a practice is not comforting! It may evoke obscure tales about the Middle ages or worse images from popular culture and film. The most memorable perhaps the image of Silas, the murdering albino monk featured in the Da Vinci Code, nude before a crucifix while whipping himself until bleeding. I am not sure where to fit the image of the saintly John Paul engaging in this practice without the picture of Silas intruding!

Maybe it is us! We live a much more confortable Christianity where the idea of self inflicted suffering does not fit in. Maybe we are bombarded with the reality of suffering, images flooding our eyes and ears through the media and see it as an evil, not an instrument of holiness. As for me, it seems I have seen enough suffering in the lives of people, including those I love, to last me ten lifetimes! There is surely more to come, it is an unescapable fact of life!

Humans suffer in mind and body, often in ways which seem senseless.It may be that we participate on the sufferings of Christ, that we learn through the trials which life brings us, that we are consoled in our misery so we can console others, Scripture assures of many of these things. Yet in the state of uncertainty, fleeting happiness and despair which characterize much of human life it seems self defeating to add to the pain we already must bear! I can not help but to think of the Roman soldiers whipping Jesus, the devil or the taskmasters whipping slaves into submission...it is hard to see flagellation as a spiritual discipline without feeling an accomplice to those whom I would be free of! Perhaps I am not healed enough, nor strong enough nor free enough nor mature enough...but I sure feel I have been whipped enough!

I need to be consoled by Christ, in my sorrow, my woundedness, sadness, insecurity. Humans clamor for healing from the emotional scars left by sin, the whipping of the belts of rejection, illness, separation from loved ones, the death of dreams and innocence, the certainty of death! It feels as though we need no whips or belts but oil to soothe, life restoring grace, a helping hand a loving embrace, a kind word, a litsening ear, a champion, a deliverer!

I will always admire and revere John Paul II though I may not understand this aspect of his spiritual discipline. Maybe it is a grace given to some, or a path to be freely chosen, God only knows and he guides each soul as he sees fit. Perhaps I need a little whipping sometimes but... for now no belts please....Christ have mercy on me a sinner!

Blessings

Seraph

Majority of Americans see abortion as morally wrong

-- On the eve of the 37th anniversary of the Supreme Court's decision in Roe v. Wade, which legalized abortion throughout the United States, a new survey shows a strong majority of Americans believe abortion to be "morally wrong."

"Millennials" (those 18-29) consider abortion to be "morally wrong" even more (58%) than Baby Boomers (those 45-64) (51%). Generation X (those 30-44) are similar to Millennials (60% see abortion as "morally wrong"). More than 6 in 10 of the Greatest Generation (those 65+) feel the same.

The most recent Knights of Columbus – Marist survey – conducted in late December and early January – is the latest in a series of such surveys commissioned by the Knights of Columbus and conducted by Marist Institute for Public Opinion. In October of 2008 and July of 2009, the survey has

been tracking an increasing trend toward the pro-life position – a trend confirmed by Gallup and Pew surveys in mid-2009. K of C – Marist surveys are available online at www.kofc.org/moralcompass.

"Americans of all ages – and younger people in even greater numbers than their parents – see abortion as something morally wrong," said Supreme Knight Carl Anderson. "America has turned a corner and is embracing life – and in doing so is embracing a future they – and all of us – can be proud of."

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Coming Home

A Gay Christian Speaks to Fundamentalists

Jonathan Odell

Last year I got a call from an administrator at a Midwestern seminary with a reputation for its “take no prisoners” conservative theology. He had permission to conduct a series of seminars on hot-button issues like abortion, stem-cell research, and gay marriage. His plan was to bring in a succession of speakers, one to take the pro side of an issue, followed by a second to present the opposing view.

I took a deep breath. I knew what was coming next. “We want you to take the pro side on homosexuality,” he said.

“Yippee,” I thought. “I get to argue for Satan.” So I asked him, “Why me?” Why me indeed... “The administrator pleaded his case. “I want you to come here not only because you’re gay, but because you’re religious. You’ve obviously held on to your spiritual beliefs.”

I didn’t tell him I’d been able to retain my faith by steering clear of the hateful fundamentalists that universities like his turned out. Instead, I lied and told him I’d think about it. “Well, I can’t blame you if you say ‘no,’” he added. “In fact, I might lose my job over asking you. But I think it’s worth it.”

...I decided I would say no to the request, but I couldn’t tell my contact that I was really declining his invitation because I was terrified of being rejected. After all, I was apparently the only homosexual he had come across who actually believed in God, so I had to keep up the image for what to him must be a very select group of gays. So I did what I usually do when I need to make a purely emotional decision appear rational: I turned to Google. I entered the name of the school and the word “homosexuality” into the search engine. My aim was to find a way to blame these fundamentalist Christians for being so hopeless that I wasn’t going to waste my time on them.

The first hit was an anonymous letter, written by one of the seminary’s own students to a gay support group, pleading for help. He wrote about being a Christian, a closeted gay, and suicidal. “From the outside, I appear much like any other student on campus,” he wrote. “I am a Christian, dedicated to my family, my friends, and my academic career. I am also gay. I came close to committing suicide several times, but God had been looking out for me. He had given me one friend on this campus with whom I could be totally honest. I believe that were it not for him, I would not be here today. One day, I hope that we can be seen for who we truly are, as fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.”

This student’s poignant testimony of desperation and isolation, his love for a church that rejects him, these brought me back to my own youth. As a boy, I too was desperate for some adult to say, “I know just how you feel. I was afraid, too. But look at me. I survived. So will you.”

Now I couldn’t refuse the invitation without rejecting this young man, and by the same token, rejecting that kid inside me who is still waiting for some adult to stand up for him. I guessed this terrified adult was going to have to do the job for both young men...

When I walked to the podium that night and scanned a room of budding fundamentalist preachers, I discovered the place was only partially filled. Most in the audience were faculty and female students. Hanging in the back was a crowd of young guys who eyed me suspiciously, still deciding whether this talk was for them, and what exactly their attendance might say about their own testosterone levels. I nervously blurted out the first thing that came to my mind: “Hello, I’m the gay guy!” It was meant to be humorous, but the silence was so thorough that I could hear them breathing.

“OK,” I told myself, “don’t be clever. Just tell the truth. If they walk out, they walk out.” I began again. “When I got the invitation to come speak today, it was a no-brainer.” I looked directly at the young men massed in the back of the room: “Not in a million years!” I noticed a few smirks, but at least we shared some common ground. We all would rather be somewhere else.

“I’d like to say I’m happy to be here today,” I continued, “but I’d be starting our relationship with a lie. Right now, you are the folks I grew up with. The folks I fled over thirty years ago and have kept running from: my family, my community, my church. You were my first family, and families know how to wound you the deepest. So today I just need to say I’m not here because I want to convert you, or change you, or sway you, or make you like me. I’m here because whether I like it or not, you are in my life and I need to somehow make peace with that part of my life.”...

Very thought provoking essay on a difficult subject for many Christians. It is definitely worth reading! I particularly liked the author's father statement "I guess both will have to be true". Sometimes congtradictory as it may sound it is the best possible answer!

You can read the entire essay by clicking on "Coming home", at the top of this post, or by going to;
http://commonwealmagazine.org/coming-home

Blessings

Seraph