An Open Letter to my LGBTQ friends

I will protect you.

I am only one person, but I will protect you – and here is how I will do it.

I will use my vote to make certain I never elect a public official that will not advocate for and protect you by every means available through our legal system.

I will use my voice to speak out if someone makes a joke in my presence about any member of the LGBTQ community or someone struggling with sexuality issues.

I will use my feet to walk up to anyone who rolls an eyeball, smirks, or engages in similarly disrespectful behavior as you and your husband/wife or boyfriend/girlfriend are walking hand-in-hand or kissing.

I will use my faith to proclaim the same Gospel proclaimed by my church – that God loves all of His children.

I will use my love to teach younger people the stories of Harvey Milk, Matthew Shepard, and countless throngs of LGBTQ individuals. I will teach them that labels like “gender” and “sexuality” mean nothing compared to “compassionate” and “accepting of others.”

That is not much, but it is all I can do.

To honor of those of you who feel vulnerable to the world during these dark days…I will protect you. You can always count on me.2050411201-quote-harvey-milk

Here I Am, Lord…but, do you REALLY need me?

At the Episcopal School of Dallas, we used to sing a hymn that had an impact on most of us, regardless of our faith or disbelief. Perhaps, many students struggling with disbelief benefited from it more than I did? Anyway, it is referred to as “Here I am Lord” or sometimes, “I, the Lord of Sea and Sky.”

“Here I am Lord” was written in 1981 by Dan Schutte. It’s based on two passages, but one echoed from the pulpit in my church in Luzern this morning and reminded me of my ESD days: Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.

It’s Isaiah 6:8. It is about a small voice declaring willingness to go. Choose me. Me. I will serve You. I will be brave.

Even when it isn’t convenient. Even when I am comfortable doing what I am doing. Even when I would really, really, really prefer you phone or Tweet or send a pigeon carrier to someone else for this task.

Even when I feel afraid.

In high school, I sincerely questioned this text. What does it mean to say you are ready? To say you will stop what you are doing and live the life God wants you to live?

I’m decades older now and my answer is still the same: “Here I am, Lord. I will go.” I still do not know why I must or how I will, but I know I will always turn my life over to God, if He’s found a use for it.

I sang this hymn at the funeral of my beloved Zachary “We Got Jungle Fever” Bell (ESD, ’97). This was the verse that moved me then and moved me today, as well.

I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne my people’s pain.
I have wept for love of them, They turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
Give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak My word to them
Whom shall I send?

Here I am Lord, Is it I, Lord?
I have heard You calling in the night.
I will go Lord, if You lead me.
I will hold Your people in my heart.

Copyright: Dan Schutte

 

I will go Lord, if You lead me.

 

Big, bad foreigners – who’s afraid of them (and why the hell are we)?

It’s human nature to be skeptical about things that are foreign to us.

Western ears traditionally approach the pentatonic scale as something “foreign,” but it’s not foreign to Eastern ears. A short skirt on a woman is highly offensive to someone in one country, but it’s a staple of one’s closet to another. A spicy curry makes my Indian friends reminisce about their family tables, but my Texas hot sauce made one of my Indian friends grab milk out of my fridge. It’s all relative and, sure, it’s all based on things being “foreign” to us, which is human nature.

What begins as human nature becomes something else entirely when we take it a step further.

The action of legislating, calling names, creating hate groups, or even inciting violence…why do we do it? Why do we take it that far? I think it’s because we are constrained by our own myopic sense of what our world is and we are intimidated by that which we do not know or understand. Our world is not white or black. It is not Jewish, Christian or Muslim. It is not East or West. It is not even native or foreigner. Not anymore. It’s global.

Pick any country…I mean, let’s look at the U.S. or Switzerland because both are currently struggling to manage the “foreigners” issue. What’s the real fear? These are spacious countries with majestic lands. Is the fear running out of resources or is the fear running out of “real Americans” or “real Swiss”? Are we really afraid foreigners will take over the United States or Switzerland with their…uh…what exactly? With their…diverse culture, rich history? Yuck. Who wants that? (Me.)

“Foreigners are taking our jobs,” it’s a common complaint. But, is it true? Many foreigners do jobs, in both countries, that “natives” do not want to or are not qualified to do. God willing, that will always be the case. What a shame if the world’s next Rachmaninoff didn’t want to go to the United States because he didn’t feel he was capable of securing a Visa. What a tragedy if the world’s next Einstein decided to stay away from Switzerland because he was concerned about the Quotas.

“Foreigners are bringing religions into this country that are against our country’s true religion.” Really? In general, I am not a huge fan of Leviticus (I actually find it borderline absurd for the most part), but I’ll go ahead and take a stab at interpreting this one…”You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.” Sorry Jews and Christians, that’s us because it’s in the Torah and the Old Testament. So, if you’re on your high horse about getting the foreigners out, I’m afraid you’ll have to dismount.

Think of it this way, as I’ve learned all too well – we are all foreign to someone. Imagine that some foreigners are not out to get you or your job or your house or your anything. Imagine that some foreigners are in your immediate vicinity to work hard, contribute to society, and be at peace. And, if they really love you, share a good recipe for yellow Thai curry (still hoping).

Seriously, though….maybe, you could help them integrate.

Instead of kicking them in the back.

Nutjobs, nutjobs everywhere

Everyone had an gut reaction to the news about Charlie Hebdo. I thought it was a mistake. It was the same feeling I had when I heard of the plane flying into the World Trade Center. It’s the same feeling I have when I watch Terms of Endearment and Emma dies. “That didn’t really happen, someone made a mistake. Rewind it and listen again.”

Because I live in a parallel universe – things like that don’t actually happen.

These things are horrific (yes, even Emma’s death). Two of them involve evil. My faith in humanity and the goodness of every person makes evil a terrifying topic that I still, to this day, cannot believe is real. My faith is strong and, I promise you, tolerant.

And, I am sick and tired of listening to people tear religion apart. Immediately after the attack on the offices of Charlie Hebdo,  FB posts purported the trite and cliche statement, “I dislike religion.” So, on Saturday, I posted “I think people who say they dislike religion are silly.” It wasn’t the adjective I wanted to use. I wanted to say “ignorant.” Just as you are entitled to tell me you have a blanket dislike of religion, I am entitled to say your words are ignorant. As I asked someone, “how much do you know about Zoroastrianism, for example?” Attended two Bahai ceremonies and just didn’t like the buffet selections? That makes sense.

The same night of this FB exchange, I had dinner with a friend and her husband, who is Pakistani and comes from a Muslim household. Though he is now an atheist, he said, “who am I to say religion is bad or stupid? If someone has cancer and his faith helps him to get out of bed and keep going every day, well, that’s a good thing.” I thought that was one of the most profound things I’ve heard in a discussion about faith. A Catholic Buddhist and a former Muslim now atheist – totally different faith structures, parallel thinking.

And there is parallel thinking with all the terrorists groups. It’s not religion that unites them, it’s a desire, almost a thirst, to commit acts of terrorism. Sure, there are excuses about the men and women who join these terrorist organizations having felt like lepers in their pre-terrorist lives – cast out of society. They felt they didn’t belong and then someone came along and said, “you can have a family with us.” Oh, poor little terrorists didn’t get picked to play Four Square in 4th grade, so let’s kidnap, rape, murder, and humiliate others. How sad. This is age-old, mafioso stuff, but, again, it’s not religion that unites them. It’s a desire to destroy and to kill to attain power – that’s not “religious.” That’s a sickness in the soul.

What is the answer to combat the terrorist groups? Like many, the temptation to limit free speech seems plausible to me, until we remember that free speech really oughten have limitations because then it’s not exactly “free,” is it? Bit like a free ticket to the movies that you can only use to see bile-inducing Twilight movies. Also using violence to combat violence didn’t seem to work out well in most cases (“An eye for an eye will make the world go blind” Gandhi’s pointed that out a bit more eloquently). The truly important thing to remember about eradicating terrorism is…that we cannot.

There will always be nutjobs. Some of them are violent with weapons and some of them are violent with words. These people will always find each other (just look at Congress). I’ve found, there is one solution to this problem that will work. It will work if your life is in danger, it will work if someone you love is killed. It will work when your country is attacked, it will work when your country is attacking.

It goes like this:

Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease;
I shall profess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

It is the hidden verse of Amazing Grace. It says that we have done our best, we were committed to sucking the marrow out of life, and we used our lives to spread principles like tolerance, kindness, and acceptance. We take our lives not for granted, but for the gift that they were at birth and can be until we die. And there are those unique cases, like those who worked in the office at Charlie Hebdo in Paris, whose lives are gifts even after they die.

Amazing Grace – how sweet the sound.