it seems to me...

Grace...that's offensive.

2012-01-31T14:50:00.005-06:00

“For the kingdom of heaven islike a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for hisvineyard. He agreed to paythem a denarius for the day and sent them into his vineyard. “About nine in the morning he went out andsaw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing. He told them, ‘You also go and work inmy vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. “He went out again about noon and about threein the afternoon and did the same thing. About five in the afternoon he went outand found still others standing around. He asked them, ‘Why have you beenstanding here all day long doing nothing?’ “‘Because no one has hired us,’ they answered. “He said to them, ‘You also go and work in myvineyard.’ “When evening came, the ownerof the vineyard said to his supervisor, ‘Call the workers and pay them theirwages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first.’
“The workers who were hired aboutfive in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. So when those came who were hired first,they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. When they received it, they began togrumble against the landowner. ‘These men who were hired last worked only onehour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burdenof the work and the heat of the day.’ “But he answered one of them, ‘Friend, Iam not being unfair to you. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the onewho was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I wantwith my own money? Or are you enviousbecause I am generous?’

Ah,grace. An unmerited and undeservedfavor. Probably the most beautiful andtransformation thing in the world. BrennanManning says that grace is the “active expression of God’s love.”

Manningalso quotes Donald McCullough in the Raggamuffin Gospel as saying, “Grace tellsus that we are accepted just as we are. We may not be the kind of people wewant to be, we may be a long way from our goals, we may have more failures thanachievements, we may not be wealthy or powerful or spiritual, we may not evenbe happy, but we are nonetheless accepted by God, held in his hands. Such isthe promise to us in Jesus Christ, a promise we can trust.”

Andyet it’s interesting that being gracious can be so offensive to some people. “Why are you so envious because I am sogracious?” Yes, it’s interesting that grace can be so offensive to certainpeople. Especially among Christians, whoI believe are supposed to be known for their love and live a life full of the“unforced rhythms of grace” (as Eugene Peterson says). For whatever reason, being gracious causesChristians to label people “liberal.”

Isee that Christians are often the ones to put up such a stink when people aregracious. And so I ask, “Why are you soenvious” when God is so gracious? Is itbecause God’s grace is radically inclusive?

I’vecome to believe that grace is offensive when coupled with entitlement. Our culture reeks of entitlement. I like to call it the American IdolSyndrome. For whatever reason, we feelas if we are entitled to fame and fortune, to sing before Randy, Paula, Steven,Simon, and J-Lo, to be the best singer in the world, and to claim the title ofAmerican Idol. But, we’re friggin’ tonedeaf. And when we’re told we suck atsinging, we go into our dramatic hissy fit, which makes for great reality TVthough.

Gracecoupled with entitlement breeds dysfunction, bitterness, and dehumanizingactions. Grace coupled with entitlementcauses schisms, exclusivity, grudges, shunning, and the inability toforgive.

InChristian circles, grace becomes offensive when one sees the depravity ofanother person’s sin but turns a blind eye to the depravity of their ownsin. Grace becomes offensive when peoplebelieve that they have kept the Christian “rules” better than someoneelse. Grace becomes offensive toChristians when they think their acceptance by God is based solely off ofobeying rules and regulations. Gracebecomes offensive when we compare. Gracebecomes offensive to people when they forget that God can be radically graciousand loving because God is Grace and Love, and through Jesus Christ grace andlove were personified.

YetGrace, when lived out as it was meant to be causes transformation, reformation,welcoming communities, reconciliation, re-humanization, and the ability tofreely forgive.

Graceis the foundation for Christianity. Itis the glue that holds marriages, friendships, and relationships together. It is cleansing water to those covered indirt. Grace is a magnet that drawspeople back together. It is the ground uponwhich I always want to walk.

Wouldn’tit be amazing if everyone out graced one another? Yeah. It’d look like the Kingdom of God.

Umm Crazy...

2012-01-26T18:42:00.002-06:00

Today I was introduced to Reddit. Perhaps I am years behind the times or am just out of the loop. But apparently, as I have come to find out, Reddit is a pretty cool site and gets a lot of traffic.

For the last couple years a group of us from The Marin Foundation have done an "I'm Sorry Campaign" at the local Chicago Gay Pride Parade. A picture from a blog post I wrote called "I Hugged a Man in his Underwear" made it to the top page of Reddit and, in under 6 hours, has had over 260,000 views. Crazy.

If you found this blog via reddit, thanks so much for reading. Enjoy!

24x24x24x24

2012-01-16T16:17:00.001-06:00

2011 was a pretty great year. I wrote a 150 page thesis, earned my Master of Divinity degree, got a new part time job with University Ministries as the Collegelife Coordinator, developed new friendships, did some great work with The Marin Foundation, turned 30, spoke at a camp that changed my life because of the simple word "tov," traveled a lot, and met a wonderful woman with whom I have fallen in love, among other things.

It was a great year.

One of my spiritual practices in 2011 was to read through the entire Bible. I've done this in the past. I used the Legacy Bible Reading Plan. It's by far the best Bible reading plan that I have used.

I've thought about doing it again this year. But, I really don't want to spend a month reading 1 and 2 Chronicles or Leviticus. It tires me. However, I do believe reading through the entire Bible is a great way to learn the meta-narrative of Scripture and God's plan of redemption and restoration.

This year I have decided to read through the Gospels on a repeated cycle. If I want to live like Jesus, I should know as much as I can about what Jesus did and said.

So, I am going to read through Matthew, Mark, Luke and John over and over and over. I figure I could read through all four Gospels in a two week cycle (that's 6-7 chapters a day). That means I will read each Gospel 24 times in the year. That's reading the story of Jesus 96 times in a year. Of course, I'll peruse other parts of the Bible, but my main focus for 2012 will be the Gospels.

I'm excited to see how this journey transforms me.

"Love is Simple" But, is it?

2012-01-11T15:24:00.000-06:00

I’verecently had some conversations with a few friends and the theme of love keepspopping up. I have heard numerous timesthat “love is simple.” Everyone wants toboil things down to loving others, which I support. But, over and over I have heard that love issimple. It should be so easy to love,since it’s a simple thing. Come on, let’sjust love one another, we should love on them, people say.

ButI don’t think love is simple. Atall.

IfI’m honest, I think love is really really hard. I think love isn’t simple, but extremely difficult.

Theonly time I think love could be simple is when you are being love but don’tchose to love in return. And that’s notlove. It’s using people to meet aninnate need to be loved, albeit in an incredibly selfish way. Love is “simple” when I refuse to love othersbut insist that people love me.

Talking about love is simple. Making love some theoretical entity is simple. Keeping love at an abstract level is simple. But doing love, that is not simple.

Don’tget me wrong. Everything inside of mewants to love deeply and well and be loved deeply and well in return. But that is not simple.

Marriageis not simple. Best friendships areoften not simple. Family relationshipsare not simple. But they all are full oflove.

Christianity’sgreatest command is to love God and love neighbor. But, that isn’t simple. I don’t love my neighbors very well at all,let alone how little I really love God. I’m really picky in who I love. Iwant to love the people that are “simple” to love; those who love me back,those who are cool, those who boast my popularity, those who make me feelgood. I don’t want to love people whoare annoying, mean, socially awkward, or have bunions. I talked about this in another post called LovePeople More and Loving without Strings Attached.

I’vehad roommates, friends, and girlfriends that I have chosen not to love becausethey were hard to love. Or didn’t loveme the way I wanted them to love me. I’veactually chosen to treat them in a way that was not at all loving. I chose the simple route: to refuse to lovethem.

Andif I’m honest, the people I am friends with are those who love me back, who areeasy to love. My closest friends are thepeople who are easy to love. I am notfriends with people who have hurt me, who I dislike, who are non-loveable. Why? Because it’s hard to love them. It’s not simple. According to my Christian beliefs, should Ilove them? Absolutely. Yet I fail too often.

Andif I’m honest, a lot of the time I am not all that loveable. I know there are people who don’t love me.

Lovingisn’t simple because it goes against all of my selfish tendencies. Everything in me wants to be loved withouthaving to love others. Everything insideof me wants to get love but not have to deal with people who have hurt me orwronged me. I want to love, but reallyso it benefits me alone. I’m lazy andselfish.

Thatis why Christianity is so counter cultural. It says I am to love God and love neighbor. Period. It says that I am to love my enemies. Radically. It says I am to forgive and pray for those who have wronged me. It says that I am to put the needs of othersbefore my own needs. It says that Ishould do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. It says that I am to humble myself and lookout for the interests of others. Andmost days, I don’t like that.

Andyet, loving others is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Loving others when I am selfless andforgiving breathes new life into my soul. Loving others actually motivates me to love better; even when it ishard. Loving others, even when itappears to be impossible, is absolutely freeing.

Ithink it’s the best way to live. I thinkit brings us into full humanity. Itmakes us fully human.

“Greaterlove has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” That’s not simple. But it is the most beautiful, life-changing thingin existence.

Irrational Fears #7

2012-01-10T14:39:00.003-06:00

You knowthose moments when you’re with a group of people and someone startslaughing? Then you all startlaughing? Then someone snorts and youall keep laughing? Then you all keeplaughing since you all have kept laughing? Then you can’t stop laughing, your stomach starts hurting like you did200 crunches, and you start crying?

I lovethose moments.

But oneof my irrational fears is that that scenario will happen. But, instead of laughing…it’s vomiting.

I’m outin a public place and someone, it could be me, starts the chain ofvomiting. Once it begins and others seeit, they all start vomiting. Then morepeople see it, they walk over to the group, and they start vomiting.

And thevomit isn’t just spilling onto the ground. Oh no, it’s projectile and people are aiming it at one another.

It’s achain of projectile vomit aimed at one another drenching each person in liquidsof stomach contents and acid.

Gross.

Sermons

2011-12-20T11:52:00.000-06:00

Since I've started this new part-time job at University Ministries at North Park University, I have not been an avid blogger. But, I have done a few sermons; one on September 11th and the most recent on December 11th. I also memorized the entire book of Colossians for a sermon series on that book. It's been a great semester.

You can check out the podcasts here. Below is the audio of Colossians from memory.

1000 Awesome Things

2011-09-28T16:57:00.001-05:00

The following is for the child within me. A friend recently introduced me to my new favorite blog. It is called 1000 Awesome Things It is awesome. On it there are things that are awesome and great. If you haven't checked it out...do so. It makes me grin.

New Design

2011-09-27T20:14:00.002-05:00

Some people have told me I should get off blogspot. Others have told me they don't care as long as I keep writing.

Today I updated the look and design of the blog. I'm not sure I like it.

Thoughts?

Dear Pixar...

2011-09-23T16:31:00.006-05:00

My sister recently graduated from the School of the Art Institute here in Chicago. Her dream job is to be an animator for Disney's Pixar. So, she decided to write them a little song pleading with them to hire her. An interesting resume to say the least.

But I've been humming this song for a few days now and think it's oh so adorable, I had to share it. Spread the word with me. Who knows, maybe my baby sister will have her dream come true. I'd be one heck of a proud brother if she did.

The Work of With

2011-09-13T14:19:00.004-05:00

I recently spoke at North Park University's collegelife service.

Check out the sermon here.

Love People More

2011-08-05T09:29:00.002-05:00

“A NEW command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you so you must love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
-Jesus

I will confess that I don’t love everyone. If I had it my way, I would love only the popular people. Or the people who I really like. Or those who I get along with and can laugh with often. I’m picky.

Actually, I want to love those who are easy to love. Or to put it a bit more bluntly, I want to love people I know will love me back. I want to love people who will love me better than I love them.

Yet, that isn’t very loving of me. It is loving with conditions.

And loving with conditions is, in actuality, not loving at all. Loving with strings attached isn't loving at all. Loving with an agenda or expectations is not loving. It's just using people.

Oddly, I have found Christians to be most guilty of this (I count myself as a great offender). This doesn’t remind me of Jesus’ commands at all. Often I have found Christians loving people with the sole motive of changing their behavior. Which, again, isn’t loving, but is simply behavior modification.

We say we “love” you but we don’t “love” what you do. Or we believe that people have to be cleaned up, all fixed, already perfect, before we will love you and welcome you into our church communities. We say, get your act together and then come into this loving community.

We say to divorced men and women: you’re wrong. We say to single mothers: you’re messed up. We say this to those who aren’t virgins: you should have been more pure. We say to those with special needs: we don’t know how to help you here. We say to the poor: you’re not rich enough. We say to the rich: you should be poorer. We say to the addicted: just quit. We say to those within our churches who differ from our personal theological stance: you’re wrong and I’m right.

And in regards to the LGBT community, it seems some Christians “love” LGBT individuals in hopes that they will “change,” stop being gay, or will automatically choose to be celibate. But if they don’t, we dehumanize them, turn them into “the least of these,” and then have nothing to do with them. It’s no wonder they hate us so much. It’s no wonder they mock all things Christian. It’s no wonder they won’t step into our churches.

What are we missing out on? I really think the Church is better when all people can belong.

We need to get the plank out of eyes. We need to stop being so obtrusively hypocritical.

The reality is, who would want to be a part of a community that is known for what they are against rather than what they are for? Who would want to be a part of a community that will love you with conditions? Who would stick around and wait for someone to love them only after they have their act together?

I wouldn’t. I need to be loved as I am; flawed, jacked up, picky, and scared. Regardless of my sexual orientation, my lack of purity, my hateful thoughts, or any other list of failings that I have acquired in the last week, I need love to survive and I can’t have people loving me with conditions. I won’t make it.

I believe in a God who has lavished Love on me. And the more I realize this, the more I realize that there is nothing else I want to do with my life but lavish Love on others. The Scriptures say, 'God so loved the world, that he gave.' I want to so love that all I do is give.

We need this to snap inside our souls. We need to remember that mercy always triumphs over judgment. It is time to love in such radical ways that the world will look upon us and say, “I’d like to be a part of that.” It is time we are known for our love.

When I Get Honest....

2011-08-01T11:41:00.002-05:00

"When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer." - Brennan Manning

I simply love this quote. I simply love Brennan Manning. I simply love his book, The Raggamuffin Gospel.

I want to be this authentic and honest.

Scared Pastor am I.

2011-07-22T11:26:00.002-05:00

I’m a pastor. And sometimes I’m scared to admit that to others.

I believe being a pastor is what I am meant to do with my life. I pastor students at a university in Chicago and pastor those people figuring out the heated debate surrounding sexuality and Christianity for a non-profit. I pastor. I am a pastor.

Here’s a major insecurity though: at times, I don’t want to tell people I do that. If I can boil it down, I’m scared of rejection really. It’s very “jr high” of me.

I’m scared that I might be persecuted, scared people won’t want to be friends with me, scared people will judge me, or make false assumptions about my character. I’m scared that people will think that I think I’m more holy than them, or scared that at a party conversation will cease once I reveal what I do. I’m scared of losing friends, regardless of their own faith tradition, because I have the job title of “pastor.”

I’m scared I won’t belong. And most days, I really want to belong.

At times, I’m ashamed to tell my old acting friends that I left acting to go to seminary and be a pastor. I’m afraid they may think I’m a failure or a quitter. And so a lot of my acting friends don’t even know what I’m now doing with my life. I grieve that fact. I’ve couched what I do in a different language: “Seminary” became “Grad School.” “Preacher” became “Speaker.” Now, I’m ashamed of being so ashamed.

I assume, albeit falsely, that people will make wrong assumptions about who I am when I say I am a pastor. For many, it seems “pastor” is someone who cocoons him or herself in a church, holier than everyone else, celibate, close to God, will convict you of your sins, uptight or a prude. One person I read said that he thinks the role of the pastor is to be the voice of Christ Himself. That seems like too much pressure to me. I don’t think I could ever claim that. I will leave being the voice of Christ to Christ.

Perhaps all my fears are unjustified. Perhaps I just need a swift kick in the rear. Perhaps I need to square my shoulders and admit it to everyone: I am proud to pastor. I don’t think I could see myself doing anything else with my life. What an honor.

Here is my current definition of a pastor: someone who willingly walks with another person through the crap in life, willing to get caked in it even, so that he or she doesn’t have to do it alone.

And while they meander, the pastor reminds the other person that they are a daughter or son of the Most High God and that nothing can harm them that day. They are no longer a sinner in God’s eye, but a saint who happens to sin once and a while. There is nothing they have done that will make God love them less and there is nothing they will do that will make God love them more. And, even though we are more wicked and jacked up than we ever thought, in Christ, we are more accepted, cherished, loved, validated, affirmed and forgiven than we ever imagined at the same time.

That is the pastor I want to be. That is what I need my pastor to be.

My definition might be incorrect. Others might disagree. Some might say I’m missing aspects or haven’t theologically thought through it all. I’d argue that I am. And my definition may change in the future. I’ll allow myself that grace.

The thing is…I want to be a pastor like Jesus was.

Here goes nothing.

Lord,
Make me an instrument of you peace.
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love:

For it is giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Coffee with a Legend

2011-07-19T18:10:00.002-05:00

The other day I enjoyed a cup of coffee and conversation with a pretty incredible gentleman. As he unfolded parts of his story, couldn’t help but be in awe of the person on the other side of the table. It was inspiring.

I quickly decided I wanted to be friends with this gentleman.

He was 86 years old. That was my guess at least. He was a pastor in the American Baptist Church for countless years. He was a Moody graduate almost 70 years ago. He attended Illinois State University and went on to get a degree from a seminary.

At one point during his life, he was part of a band that toured the country. He told me they were a bit progressive. I think that means they played “rock n roll.”

He walked in the first Gay Pride Parade in 1968 only a couple of days after the historic riots at Stonewall Inn. He was a part of an historic event.

He has been with his partner for over 20 years. And I saw in his eyes just how much he loved this man as he told me stories. He lit up. It was cute.

Two weeks after he had major heart surgery, he preached a sermon. I think he might just be a robot.

He told me stories of his years working in an AIDS/HIV hospice. He said he lost a lot of his friends to that disease. At times, he felt guilty that he didn’t contract it, so he served people during a time when the rest of the country thought such a disease was due punishment. He got a little teary eyed during this story. I can’t even begin to imagine.

He is a friend to so many people! He was telling me stories about his friend in France. Turns out, his friend was Francis Schaeffer, the founder of L’Abri. That’s cray cray!

He was telling me about his thoughts on the whole end of the world theory and the craziness that ensued with Harold Camping. He thinks, “all this rapture stuff is heresy.” I concur.

He told me now that he has reached a certain age he is no longer holding anything back. Therefore, he is brutally honest and doesn’t keep his thoughts to himself. I like this.

He has an iPhone.

And this is what I realized afterward:
I had coffee with a legend.

Best Friends Leave.

2011-07-05T10:50:00.005-05:00

Prior to four years ago, I would move just about every three to six months. I'd become friends with people and a few months later I'd leave. So, I became used to leaving people. It was tough at times, but it became the norm. I think it was easy for me to leave a community mainly because I never fully invested into a community.

Now that I have put some roots in one place over the last few years, I've realized it's different when a community leaves you. It's difficult actually. Not that leaving a community is easy. But when you decide to make a place you're home, it's easy to assume people will remain in that home. So, it's hard when the people you want to see the most are no longer in sight.

In the past couple weeks two of my best friends moved out of state. One to Denver. The other to Canada. And although it's good that they moved there and good that life is taking them in new directions, at times I'm saddened they aren't around me. It's tougher than I thought it would be.

Currently, all my best friends (yes I have a few) live far from me. One is in Canada. One is in Denver. One is in New York City. One is in Arizona. Each of these best friends became my best friend at a specific time and place. And I cherish each so much.

These people are good for my soul. Not having them close is quite difficult for my soul. But, knowing they are my best friends is so good for my soul.

I do love my friends that are here in Chicago. They, too, are good for my soul. But, now I need some best friends that are close. That would be really good for my soul.

"My home team is gone. It's just so daunting to think of making a new team."

It will be an interesting journey.

One Year Ago.

2011-06-28T10:06:00.005-05:00

One year ago today I wrote a post. It was simply my reaction to what I did at a parade. It was called "I Hugged a Man in His Underwear." I apologized for the ways the Christian community have wronged, shamed, demonized, dehumanized and hurt the LGBT community.

We did it again this year.

A friend wrote the following post about her experience at Pride. It's great. Read it.

"Several Points that Wouldn't Fit on My Pride Parade Sign"

I'm Sorry....Still

2011-06-24T12:42:00.003-05:00

Last year, a group of friends got together at Chicago's Gay Pride Parade to apologize to the LGBT community for the way many Christians and church communities have mistreated, dehumanized, and demonized LGBT individuals. It was almost a year ago that I wrote my reflections of the day in the post "I Hugged a Man in His Underwear. And I am Proud."

We'll be there again this Sunday. People still need to apologize.

God dignifies all people. Grace allows everyone to belong. Mercy always triumphs over judgment. Forgiveness is painful yet healing. And Jesus welcomed everyone because Jesus excluded no one.

I will live by that.

Happy Pride.

Irrational Fears #6

2011-06-23T12:31:00.003-05:00

I went to the Windy City Classic, or Crosstown Cup as it is also known, the other day. This is where the Chicago White Sox massacre, I mean play, the Chicago Cubs. One series is played at Wrigley, the other at Comiskey (yes I still call it that).

I realized that I have an irrational fear. It goes as follows:

I am at the White Sox game enjoying my hot dog, perhaps with a little mustard. Peanut shells are constantly crunching beneath my feet. The comments coming from the drunk guy behind me are making me laugh hysterically, even though I act as if I not paying attention. I keep looking up at the scoreboard, but this is just my cover for people watching.

Then all of a sudden, I hear the crack of the bat and notice a fly ball coming in my direction. I stand up to catch it. My drink spills, my dog drops, there's now mustard on my jeans. And as my hand reaches up to the ball, I completely miss. The ball either hits my hand and breaks my finger or it hits me in the head. It has such force I get knocked out and fall on the people in front of me. I'm out cold.

The television cameras zoom in to see the doofus who missed the fly ball. Security comes to see if I'm ok. People around me are laughing. They toast to the idiot. I'm known to the whole stadium as a weakling. They even put me up on the jumbo screen.

I regain consciousness. I cry.

(Me and my irrational fears. Who the heck am I?)

Here Comes the Bride…s and Grooms.

2011-06-02T15:23:00.001-05:00

There were a lot of African Americans there today. So too were there a lot of Asians and Latinos. There was a smattering of people of European descent as well. Plenty of children were running around. Some were in cute little dresses or fun sport coats. A little girl was rolling around in the grass until her dad took her in his arms. There were dogs too.

One older gentleman was riding a motorized scooter. He wasn’t alone, though. Every generation was represented. I could imagine countless professions being there too. I’m sure differences in socio-economic status were present. I was standing next to a pastor; one of many I’m sure. Behind me was a seminary student. An elderly couple was to my right. A Dad and his daughter were to my left. Countless couples were in attendance. I bet some had been together for decades, others I assume were young love.

A lot of people were taking pictures. There were countless boutonnieres and corsages. Governor Pat Quinn was there, as was Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel. People were applauding often. Smiles and hugs seemed to be the language everyone was speaking. Love abounded. Oh, and there were some protestors, six of them.

There really is an odd semblance of beauty in diversity.

In January of this past year, Illinois became seventh state, along with the District of Columbia, to give the same rights to same-sex couples as heterosexual couples in the form of civil unions. The law went into effect on June 1st and today, June 2nd, became the first day same-sex couples could have a commitment service to say, “I do.”

As a way to celebrate this, Chicago put on “Unions in the Park” (located in Millennium Park) where 33 couples participated in civil union ceremonies. I decided to attend since it was such an historic event and is also a contentious topic for many. Although it was almost impossible to see the actually ceremonies being performed from where I was standing, I was able to see the line of couples and their families as they made their way up to those officiating over the ceremonies.

I think I was surprised most by the diversity that was there. I think that is what I found to be most beautiful. There was generational diversity, ethnic and racial diversity, socio-economic diversity, sexual orientation and gender diversity, political diversity, and perhaps even religious diversity. For me, the event wasn’t solely about two gay or lesbian individuals being “civil unionized,” but also about people, humans without any labels, together with their families and loved ones being united as families and loved ones.

Love is a powerful. Very powerful. I saw a lot of it today. Love truly does transcend all. Love always hopes. Love always perseveres. Love conquers all. Love endures all things. Love is not jealous. Love does not seek its own agenda. Love is always kind. Love protects.

Love makes us better humans.

I believe God is Love. When I have a loving thought, I believe that thought to be from God. When I do a loving action, I believe it to be prompted by God.

Whenever I see love, I know I see glimpses of God.

I saw a lot of Love today.

Attack of the Green Peace People

2011-06-02T13:45:00.002-05:00

Do you see the Green Peace people on the city streets? The intersection by which I live recently has had a slew of people working for Green Peace, HRC, Red Cross, or some agency for animal rights. They wear colored vests, carry a clipboard, usually wave (the good ones have a funny starting line) and try to get you to support their cause.

Confession: I avoid them like the plague. Seriously.

I would not look at them. I would try to walk around them. I crossed the street (but they’re sneaky and have people on both sides of the street I learned). I literally ducked through alleys. I faked a phone call once. Then, the gentleman figured I was faking the phone call and called me out. I was embarrassed but kept on faking the phone call.

Most days I simply did not want to be bothered. I did not want to be sold something. Sadly, I did not want to make the commitment to financially help out others who are making our world a better place.

One time, in New York City, I decided to talk with a gentleman who was working for HRC, I believe. He went through his entire shpeel. I think we bonded. And I decided to sign up and donate some money. He said I would get a free pin in the mail. That sold me right there. I like pins. I like free pins even more. Instead of signing up with my credit card for a monthly amount, I made a one-time cash donation. However, I never got my pin. I think Mr. HRC Man pocketed my money. So, you could say I might have a small chip on my shoulder. I could have a pin on my shoulder, but no!

I have a friend who spent some time working with Green Peace. He had long hair, a beard, and sometimes wore bandannas in case you ever avoided him on the streets of Chicago. He told me that he would hate it when people ignored him. I hate when people ignore me too. If someone simply said, “no thank you” to him, he would leave him or her alone.

So I tried that. And…it worked! Now I look at those people in the eye, do nothing to avoid their funny attention getting antics and simply say, “No thanks, not today.” And usually they bid me a good day.

Maybe one of these days I will actually donate too.

No Left Turns, 4pm-6pm Weekdays

2011-05-16T14:03:00.001-05:00

The other day, I was pulled over and received my first ticket. I made it 15 years driving without getting one. However, the other day I was the subject of a police stakeout.

Driving home, I decided to avoid the rush hour traffic and took side streets back to my apartment; a route I rarely take through neighborhoods with which I am unfamiliar. At one point, I decided to turn left onto another street. I did not notice, though, the ever so small sign that said, “No Left Turn 4pm-6pm Weekdays.”

As soon as I turned left onto this side road, I saw three police cars. Three, mind you. The first immediately pulled out and followed me with flashing lights. The nice police officer told me the wrong I had committed. I honestly did not see the sign, felt like an idiot, and apologized. She gave me a hefty $120 ticket and bid me to be careful.

Then, after she pulled away, behind me I saw two other police cars that had pulled over two other cars for the same reason. It was a sting operation! These cops were just sitting there, from 4-6pm, waiting for us!

Now, at first, this frustrated me. After all the years of driving, I get a ticket for such a stupid reason. I was not a reckless driver, I did not cut anyone off, there was no road rage, and I wasn’t even speeding. Out of all the things I could have done, I turned left onto a non-busy street at 5:29pm, which is deemed illegal during peak driving hours.

I wish I had done something reckless for my first ticket. I wish I rammed another car, was going 125mph in a 35mph zone, or maybe I should have run from the cops. But no, I lost $120 from successfully completing a safe left turn 30 minutes earlier than what was designated legal.

In actuality, I’m not bothered that I got a ticket. I broke a rule, I’m guilty, and I’ll pay my fine. I respect the cops who do their job.

Perhaps the city needs a few people to pay $120 tickets. Perhaps cops need to meet their ticket quota. Yet, why were three cops sitting in a relatively safe, predominantly white, north side neighborhood ticketing people for turning left when there is such a need for police presence in other parts of our city?

There is a greater need in our city. There is a greater need.

Instagram and Apathy

2011-05-10T14:01:00.005-05:00

Rather than having a love/hate relationship with social media, I have a love/apathetic relationship with social media. Lately, it's been apathetic. My friends tell me I should blog more, daily even. Others tell me to tweet and tweet. But sometimes, I simply want to sit around and read a book. Or admire the neighborhood by going on a walk with a friend. Sometimes, I simply do not care to make an analysis on internet drama.

So that's why I haven't written anything in a while. My apologies. But, I'm sure soon my apathy will turn into love. And hold your britches, I'll be a social media maniac.

However, I have fallen in love with instagram. Do you have it? You should. Then, follow me: nalbert. I'll follow you back...if you take sweet pictures.

Lunch today- included a lot of raspberries. Yep, spring is here and summer is around the corner.

Cheers!

The Longest Hopscotch Ever

2011-04-19T13:06:00.001-05:00

The other day, as I walked through the neighborhood, I came across some chalk art. I used to love playing with chalk as a kid. It was like graffiti for goodie two shoes.

I came across a game of hopscotch. My initial reaction was to hop through some of it. I was alone, and do silly things like that when I am alone. However, I kept walking and the hopscotch kept going. And kept going. And kept going.

It went for four blocks! I am not joking. A hopscotch four city blocks long! I walked the whole thing. They numbered every block and it reached 2100.

It was so fun to follow it the entire four blocks.

But, then I made it to the end. There was a note in chalk.

It said the following: “This is really gay, but I was really bored.”

My smile went away. I didn’t move. I just looked down for a minute. I looked for chalk to scratch it out. I looked for water. I thought maybe if I could come up with enough saliva I could wipe it away. Eventually, I walked away saddened and frustrated.

It saddens me that the word “gay” is used in such a way. Still.

Goodness, we have some work to do.

A Society of Fences

2011-04-11T11:19:00.001-05:00

I took a walk through my hometown the other day. It’s enjoyable as an adult to relive childhood memories. As I walked, I realized fences are everywhere. Our family didn’t have a fence around our yard. We lived on a corner lot and had a huge backyard. It became the neighborhood sports field for us kids. Depending on the sports season, we’d play football, baseball, soccer, or kick the can.

But as I walked around the town, I saw so many fences. Eventually, I decided I would be a bit nosey and peek over the fences. One home had a nasty pool, completely polluted, brown water, with ducks swimming in it. Others had no grass at all, just piles of dirt. Some were covered with kid toys and swing sets. Yet, other yards were incredibly clean, grass beautifully green, but no one could see it. Almost every home was nicely landscaped in the front, but that wasn’t always the case behind the fences.

It seems we put up fences for numerous reasons. We don’t want strangers wandering through our yards; we know those bratty neighborhood kids will make it a mess. Other times fences show our neighbors our possessions; this is our land not yours. Sometimes, fences do a great job at hiding the messiness of our yards; the grass really is greener in someone else’s yard.

Do you think we do this in our personal lives? Do you think there is a similarity in our churches? I think so. I think we put up fences. A lot of them. Some times fences made of steel that are stories high. We don’t want certain people to come into our yards. Certain people won’t appreciate how much work went into the yard and they might mess it up. We want people to say in their own yards; they don’t own our yard so why should they be allowed to enjoy it? If we’re honest, we may not want others to see how bad the grass is in our yard. We may not want people to see the dog crap that covers our yard. So rather than exposing the flaws to others, we simply mask it with a tall fence. We landscape the front yard as well as we can, but we do not even dare to invite people past that. We do that in our own lives, don’t we? I know I do. I put up fences. I make sure the outside is presentable yet hide what’s in the back yard.

What if we took down the fences? What if we were vulnerable enough to let others see the holes in our yard, the mess that it is, or all the crap? Or what if we had a green yard and invited others to share in it? If we took down our fences, all people would be invited to the backyard barbeque. Others could see our needs. Those of us with nice yards could help others. Those of us with a lot of fertilizer could spread it out on someone else’s yard. Those who need some fertilizer could get some from others.

It reminds me of the slums of Bangkok. Mind you, there are no yards there. But people’s front doors were always opened. Actually, at times, people did have a front door, or even a front wall. It was open for all to share. You could get fresh water from one house while use the bathroom in another. The one with a working tv would invite all over to watch it while the house with a big kitchen would be the community kitchen. And in sharing there was so much joy. What are we missing out on by keeping up our fences?

Here’s my paraphrase of Acts 2:44-47:

Because there were no fences, backyard barbeques were endless. Everyone showed up, everyone ate, and the yard was huge.

Irrational Fears 5

2011-04-08T11:59:00.001-05:00

The following irrational fears include automobiles.

Has a bug or, more importantly, a bee ever flown into your car while you were driving? Well, I answer that question with a resounding yes. It freaks me out every time it happens. It’s one of my fears; a fear that quickly becomes irrational.

I am driving, minding my own business, and listening to some great tunes. All of a sudden a bee flies into the car. Now, this is not some normal bee. This is one of those rabid out to kill you bees. I start freaking out because I know it’s a nasty bee. I try to shoo it away. Rather than getting it to fly out the window, it turns on me and starts dive-bombing me. In each attempt, it stings me. Now, not only is this a rabid bee that dive-bombs you, it is also a bee that has an endless supply of stingers. So, he/she/it is getting me over and over. I keep swatting; it keeps stinging. It keeps stinging; my car keeps swerving. Then, after minutes of this abuse and me starting to whimper like a child, the bee decides to fly away as if nothing happened. Then, I get reared ended.

I have another fear that while I am driving one of my front tires will just fall off. I have this fear because, as of late, my car is actually making a noise that sounds as if my tire may soon fall off. What would I do? Would I freak out? Would I calmly come to a complete stop? Or would it cause my car to flip over like in a hollywood action movie (eg Fast Five)? I don’t know.

Sometimes I am afraid that I will cut someone off in traffic and, instead of simply giving me the finger, they will pull out a gun and try to shoot me.

Rob Bell's Love Wins

2011-03-31T12:44:00.003-05:00

I am so hesitant to write anything about Rob Bell's new and controversial book, Love Wins. I don't want to be another talking head. I don't want to write more words about it. There has been more words written and ink spilled about Love Wins than there are actual words and ink in Love Wins!

Yet, I just finished the book. Here is my review:

I liked it.
I'm glad Rob Bell is a pastor.
There isn't too much that is "out there."
He basically repeats what NT Wright has said in Surprised by Hope, Timothy Keller in The Prodigal God, and CS Lewis in The Great Divorce. All three of which I have read and love.
The book is very "Rob Bell" - e.g. Few full length paragraphs (as in the book should probably be about 100 pages shorter), a lot of questions (makes sense since Bell loves the Rabbinical method of teaching), and it would be a better "read" if it were spoken (as in this probably was a sermon at some point and should remain one at that).
I'm so glad that Love wins. That is good news.

Rachel Held Evans wrote a nice post about it here. I agree with a lot of what she says.

I think the moral of the whole Rob Bell fiasco is- Christians get too freaked out, jump on band wagons before they investigate anything themselves, don't trust that God is God, would prefer to be spoon fed than do their own education, and love love LOVE to pick fights with anything that moves.

So go read the book. Go think. Go learn. Go act. Stop being spoon fed.

That's all the words and ink I'm going to spill on this subject.

Pray the Gay Away?

2011-03-29T14:11:00.008-05:00

Recently, the Oprah Winfrey Network (OWN) aired a segment entitled, Our America: with Lisa Ling, "Pray the Gay Away?". It made some hoopla across the social media world of blogs and twitter. I finally watched the full episode (which you can do here). I get behind on things that go viral. I get lazy and sometimes I don't want to devote so much time to it- as in the whole Rob Bell fiasco. (I am currently reading his book though and am enjoying it...Farewell, Me.) To be honest, I quickly get tired of all the comments and fighting and assumptions that are made. But regardless, I watched this video and was asked to share my thoughts.

As you can tell from the preview above, Ling looks at men and women who are trying to "change" their sexual orientation. She looks at the spectrum of Christian ministries focused on gay or lesbian individuals. She also interviews Alan Chambers, the President of Exodus International that often says one can stop being "gay." Chambers himself is an ex-gay male who is now married to a woman. Ling also interviews gay Christians at a camp that caters to gay Christian youth. This isn't an ex-gay ministry, like Exodus, but instead teaches gay youth to embrace their sexual identity as a gift from God.

I recommend watching it. I was hesitant to view it as I was afraid it would be sloppy journalism and simply rip certain people to shreds. Exodus gets a lot of heat from liberals. And gay Christians get a lot of heat from conservatives. I'm pretty tired of that debate. Yet, she doesn't rip anyone to shreds. She's tasteful. She raises her concerns and her questions are poignant. She forces the viewer to think, whether or not they agree.

After it aired, I had numerous friends email me with concerns. Some of my liberal friends emailed me in disgust that people actually think religion teaches them they must "change." Others were speechless or outraged that such ministries exist. Yet I know countless friends who have gone through ex-gay ministries; who fought for years to rid themselves of certain sexual attractions. For most of friends who went through such experiences, it did not work. They are still gay, they couldn't change, they didn't want to, and they are happier being out. I personally know only a handful of men and women who are now married to someone of the opposite sex.

And so, personally, I have my views on "ex-gay" ministries. Briefly: I do think they can be quite harmful and damaging, especially after hearing the stories from so many of my friends who have gone through such ministries. I have gone "undercover" to Exodus conferences to see how things are handled and I worry that the type of Gospel that is preached is one of behavior modification. I question their validity, rhetoric and attitudes of anyone who disagrees with them (eg liberals). Unlike them, I do believe one can be gay and Christian.

And yet, I have to give some credit to those individuals who have chosen to live in such a way; a way that will often bring ridicule and even laughs. For them, these ministries have been incredibly helpful. They have made theological decisions and these decisions are dramatically influencing how they live. They wholeheartedly believe they can change, or live another way, and are doing everything they can to do so. They fight so hard for what they think is right and true. Honestly, I wonder how often I do the same.

With that said, I encourage you to check out the piece, don't just fight in the comment section. Do some investigating yourself. Make some decisions. Think.

Irrational Fear #4

2011-03-21T11:42:00.005-05:00

Last week I started a new series entitled, Irrational Fears. So far I have shared three of them. You can check them out here.

Here is my newest one.

My sister has a small little cactus in her apartment. I'm always afraid to touch it. I'm afraid that as I go to touch the little furry and prickly cactus it will decide to shoot its prickly points at me, like a porcupine might do when under attack. Or I think, what if as I go to touch the cactus someone would sneak up behind me and jam my hand onto the cactus and my pretty hand will be impaled by the mini green cactus?! Ouch.

Then, of course, I think of the giant sequoia cacti in the Western U.S. What if I was visiting Arizona and I was kidnapped by mean and cruel kidnappers?! They hijack me, tie me up, and shove me into their black van with tinted windows. They drive me out to the desert, strip me of my clothes and tie me to a sequoia cactus. They make me hug the sequoia like I would a family or friend. Then my whole body is impaled by the prickly prickles of the cactus. Not fun.

Or I think, what if I decide to go hiking in Arizona and a giant sequoia falls on me and traps me like the guy in 127 Hours. (I just watched that movie and I have decided I am NEVER going hiking again!) And there I lie with a giant cactus on top of me. Not fun. I guess it's a good thing I live in Illinois.

Irrational Fears

2011-03-09T10:56:00.005-06:00

I've decided to begin a new series of posts on my blog entitled, Irrational Fears. It may not be enjoyable reading for you, but it is for me.

Irrational fears make for great conversations. You can share your irrational fears at parties. People will laugh at you, yes at you. Or, they may laugh with you since they have a similar fear. Or they may just look at you, sip their drink awkwardly, and walk away. Then they would probably gossip about you in the kitchen, but at least you're the topic of conversation.

Now my irrational fears are not fears that keep me up at night. I know that the odds are quite good that they will never come to fruition. I have two irrational fears that I always tell people: turding myself or dying alone in my apartment and not being found for years. You can read more about them in another post I wrote called Waves Always Come Back.

So, the following irrational fear is officially added to my list of Irrational Fears. Drum roll please...

I have an irrational fear that I will be in a crowded apartment, restaurant, or club. After socializing and laughing with my friends for hours, I will excuse myself to use the restroom. I only have to go #1, of course. After I wash my hands and begin to head out, I realize the door is locked. I attempt to unlock it. It won't budge. I try banging on the door or yelling, but the music is too loud. No one hears me. I stand there thinking, "really?"

I reach for my cell phone to call my friends but it's not in my pocket. I must have left it on the table in the other room. Again, I think, "really?" I would assume someone else would eventually come use the restroom, but to my surprise no one does. I start thinking, "Hmm, well this isn't looking good." Many many minutes pass. It seems like hours. My friends, now in the other room, wonder where I am. They start thinking I'm going #2, which you and I know is not the case!! They say things like, "did he fall in?," "is he ok?," "he's been in there a while!" Yet, they don't come looking for me.

Hours pass. No one looks for me. I start talking to myself. I may even dance to the tunes I hear from the other room. But, eventually, I just end up sitting on the floor of the bathroom while everyone else has a great time.

There you have it. Irrational Fear #3.

Stay tuned for other irrational fears or feel free to share your own.

The Invitation

2011-03-04T12:46:00.002-06:00

I've been cleaning out years worth of collected paper and junk as I move into a new office. I recently found this piece that I had in my office when I was a chaplain at Rush University Medical Center. It's by Oriah Mountain Dreamer and is called The Invitation. At one time, it spoke to me. Perhaps it will do the same for you.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or face it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in empty moments.

Harding University Queer Press

2011-03-03T11:11:00.007-06:00

Harding University students recently published a zine called The State of the Gay. The zine hopes to bring awareness to the lives and issues of minorities- especially those who are LGBT. As the introduction states:

All is not well with us at Harding. Our voices are muted, our stories go unheard, and we are forced into hiding. We are threatened with re-orientation therapy, social isolation, and expulsion. We are told stories and lies that we are disgusting sinners who are damned to hell, that we are broken individuals and child abusers. We are told we will live miserable lives and are responsible for the collapse of civilization. We have lost our friends and families, been kicked out of our churches and school, and are killed, or when left with no options, kill ourselves. We have felt the pain of the deep, dark closet, and we are here to announce that we will not stand for it any longer. This is simply not acceptable. We are good people who are finished being treated as second-class citizens...We are children of God and valuable assets to this campus and the world beyond. We are not asking anything from you. We are here to tell you that we exist and will not be silenced.

These students share intimate and raw stories about the coming out process, being gay at a Christian university, they're open and honest with their fears and needs, or they simply share their desire to be loved.

If there is anything I need right now, it's to know that my fellow students don't hate me. We need it. We need people who aren't afraid to say that they'll love us no matter what. We're in a place that hides us behind lies (an actions that we're supposed to fight against as Christians, I think). We're scared that our peers will abandon and shun us, scared that our college experience is going to be horrendous and miserable, scared, if for no other reason, that we'll be forced to choose between being with someone we genuinely love and doomed to spend eternity in hell, or choose to be with Christ, but be alone and miserable for the rest of our life on earth.

I applaud these students. They are brave. And having been backed into a corner for so long, they have decided to speak out. They do not lash out, which I respect, but they won't be silent any longer.

This zine forces its reader to see that the "issue" of homosexuality is not an issue but is about people.

You cannot argue with someone's story. Stories force us to listen, see, and at times, can change our own stories.

Read the entire zine here.

Book Review: Unprotected Texts by Jennifer Knust

2011-02-25T11:55:00.005-06:00

I think you should read Unprotected Texts: The Bible’s Surprising Contradictions about Sex and Desire. Provocative title, eh? And, I think you should read this book soon. It might just rock your world. Or offend you. Or force you to think. Or educate you about things you never thought you’d be educated about. Or show you how messy the Bible is. Or it might just make you fall in love with the intricacies of the Bible. It did for me, at least.

Let me start with introducing the author. Jennifer Knust is assistant professor of religion at Boston University. Not only is she an ordained American Baptist pastor, but she also earned a doctorate in religion from Columbia University and a master of divinity from Union Theological Seminary. As you’ll learn after you read this book, she knows her stuff; she knows it well.

In Unprotected Texts, Knust shows that the Bible cannot be used a guidebook for sexuality. Thus she enters the debate and discussion about sexuality and the Bible, which seems to be where the heated battles are currently taking place. Many people are taking sides and fighting to convince others about their views on premarital sex, gay marriage, abortion, whether women should submit to their husbands, virginity and sexual purity. Both sides seem to be using the Bible to create their particular sexual ethic.

Yet, rather than getting pulled into this debate and attempting to pull the Bible to one particular side of the debate, Knust presents to the reader the full complexity of the Bible, showing its beauty through its complexities. Therefore, she argues that the Bible cannot be used as a systematic guide to define a particular sexual ethic and morality.

Knust does this by giving a detailed analysis of biblical texts, attitudes, and practices. That being said, reader be warned, she hardly gives commentary on social issues pertaining to sexuality. As she shows, some books of the Bible uphold polygamy while others reject it. Some biblical authors condemn premarital or extramarital affairs and others show it as being a part of God’s will. It seems, as she points out, that the Bible is divided about sex. Because of this, she encourages her readers to admit we often come to the Bible with our own agendas, and when we try to find straightforward answers, especially about sex, we will often be disappointed. Instead, she reminds us of the beauty that can be found within the Bible.

In the past couple days, I have read so much about sex with angels, circumcision, semen and vaginal bleeding I feel as if I should go take a shower. Some of her findings I question while others I have never even thought about. But most importantly, she encourages me to take my Bible seriously. At times, I wanted to put her book down and go read the biblical text (I think that is exactly her goal). It reinforced in me that the Bible deserves better treatment than a simple reading or using it to make flippant ethical decisions. As every good Bible professor should do, she reminds all of us that as we read and interpret the Bible, it should force us to grow in love for God, love of neighbor, and a love for life.

Thanks to Jennifer Knust and Julie Burton at Harper Collins for the review copy.

Voicemail Woes

2011-02-22T11:25:00.005-06:00

I don't know what my problem is, but I cannot leave an intelligible voicemail. For whatever reason, they stress me out. I say really stupid things, fumble over my words, develop a two-minute speech impediment, or ramble for what seems like hours.

At times, I will intend to leave a brief message saying something to the effect of "I am returning your call, so please call me back at your convenience." And yet, I end up rambling, sharing a story about what I had for dinner and how great olive oil makes a dish, and eventually get cut off mid-sentence because my message is too long (since when do they put a time limit on voicemals?).

Other times I get distracted while leaving a message. You know, you're walking down the street and you see a dog and then rather than saying "call me back," I say something about the dog and it's funny ears. Then, without realizing I'm still leaving a voicemail, I start talking to the owner of the dog. "What kind of dog is that?" "Oh he's so cute." And, as if the other person couldn't hear me talking to the dog owner, I say, "I just saw a puggle with cute ears. You should have seen it."

Let's say I am hoping to leave a message for a pretty lady that I fancy. Lo and behold I end up saying something that is utterly embarrassing or completely un-suave. I'll say something like, "I had a fun time last night...and I...umm...I liked.....your shoe." Then I pause for an extended amount of time since I realize how stupid I just sounded- "Shoe? Really Nathan. WTH." But then the pause is so long I just end the voicemail and cuss myself out after I hang up. I spend the next in agony because she hasn't called back, which I blame on the fact that I left a stupid voicemail and not on the fact that she might be busy or at work.

I also am really good at making a goodbye last a really long time. Why is it that I say "bye" 6,000 times in a matter of a minute? "Ok, well I'll talk to you later. K, bye...oh and let's hang out soon. Oh, and make sure you check that band out. Yeah, well, good talking. I'll call soon. Goodness that puggle was cute. Make sure you google them. Ok, goodbye. Bye....call me. Bye. Bye."

My favorite though is when I decide to be funny and leave a voicemail in an Irish accent, as if I am a leprechaun. That's the best. Then I can be an idiot and it's considered comedic. "Ah, top o' the mornin' to ya, laddie." I do that more often than I should.

Luckily, I am not the only one with this problem. I have listened to the voicemails of plenty of my friends. They also sound idiotic.

Here's to solidarity.

Belong, Believe, Become

2011-02-21T10:00:00.002-06:00

During my years working as a professional singer and actor I was often quiet about my faith, especially around my countless gay or lesbian friends. I quickly learned that their experiences with the Church and Christians were almost always negative. Many were kicked out of their churches, shunned by family members, and even spit upon by Christian roommates. They didn’t have a positive view of Christians or the faith we professed. From their experiences, I saw that many churches excluded rather than included LGBT people, had a closed-door policy rather than an open-door policy, and taught a type behavior modification rather than Gospel transformation.

These churches worked on the model of Behave, Believe, Belong. Christians have told countless LGBT individuals that they must behave a certain way (be celibate or become heterosexual), believe a certain set of doctrines (this is right, that is wrong; this is sinful, that is holy), and then they are allowed to belong to the church community. My fear is that this model might actually be more damaging than helpful. My fear is that this model can distort our understanding of grace and our understanding of God. My fear is that this model might force us to think that if we behave a certain way, believe a certain thing, then God will accept us. Or worse, I fear that people will give up on God entirely because they are forced to behave rather than belong.

This is a very religious attitude. Religion says we negotiate with God to try to get help in exchange for our good behavior. We do what were told and, hopefully, God rewards us. Because of religion in churches, we’re told you must be a certain way, act a certain way, behave a certain way, believe a certain doctrine, then belonging to our community can happen.

Instead, I think the Gospel presents a better model: Belong, Believe, Become.

A church that follows this model allows people to come as they are. Literally. It allows people to be honest and vulnerable. It leaves room for grace. In actuality, it’s all about grace. It allows us to acknowledge that we are not perfect but God is. We are not righteous, but God is. We don’t have our act together, but God does.

The Belong Believe Become model says that anyone can belong, regardless of their orientation, regardless of their beliefs, regardless of whether they are even Christians. They are included, loved, embraced and welcomed into a community of Christians.

Then, only after belonging, do they begin to hear about Jesus, do they see Christians acting in counter-cultural ways, do they learn about this Jesus who claims to be the Son of God.

Then, only after belief in Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit, does transformation occur. Because men and women are able to belong to a community where they can belong, the process of sanctification begins. And it is just that, a process. This is where we as Christians begin to become followers of Christ. In this process there is grace. People can belong with their flaws and sin as they grow in the knowledge of God. It is in this journey that we seek holiness and become agents of reconciliation, forgiveness, change, and we participate with God to bring about shalom on earth as it is in heaven.

This model can be seen throughout Scripture (John 13:1-17, Luke 7:36-50, Mark 14 and Matthew 23:25-28 are just a few examples). It can also be seen in and through the life of Thomas. Considered the one who doubted Jesus, Thomas belonged to a community for three years. It was there that he belonged and was intimately known by Jesus and the other disciples. It wasn’t until a week after Jesus’ resurrection that Thomas saw Jesus face-to-face. During this week, all the other disciples believed and Thomas continued to belong even though he didn’t believe. Once he encountered the risen Christ, though, he immediately worshiped Jesus. Thomas went on to bring the Gospel to India and became a martyr for his faith. Thomas belonged, believed, and then became.

In his book Love is an Orientation, Andrew Marin shares a suicide note that he received. The gentleman who wrote the note said:

Had someone the courage to tell me that promiscuity of any type is wrong, that it is OK not to marry or being gay is not the end of the world then I might have been spared a great deal of trauma and pain in my life. My past is not pretty but I don’t know many that are. For me, it isn’t about making it, but is about survival and truly knowing peace…It is painful to think that people find it so easy to shun us- some of us actually do have good hearts that can be worth salvaging…

There are all kinds of medals given out for going to Africa to help with AIDS and for dealing with “respectable” illnesses but the stigma attached to being gay is as prevalent today as ever. How sad. This is the reason I don’t go to services- I can’t find a temple or a church that is really eager to allow me to be honest with what I face on a daily basis. It has always been as though I was supposed to already be “fixed” just because I showed up at services. Anyway, I have reached a point of hopelessness because there really is no one with a true heart to help. (Pg. 57-58)

It seems to me that this person was looking for a place where he could belong. He desired a community of compassion rather than a congregation of condemnation. It seems he was looking for a place where he could be granted patience and grace. Perhaps he didn’t want people telling him to “change” but instead be told he was God’s beloved. Maybe he wanted the opportunity to meet Christ face-to-face and begin the process of sanctification. The saddest notion of all is that this gentleman is not alone in feeling this way.

As Doug Bixby points out in his book The Honest to God Church, our call as Christians “is to share God’s grace, not to decide who gets it” (Pg. 118). That’s a scary statement but I hope I can radically live into that call.

For more on the this, reference my sermon "Belong Believe Become" given at New Community Covenant Church on Jan. 2nd, 2011 (http://www.thenewcom.com/podcast).

In Light of Hallmark Holidays...

2011-02-14T12:01:00.004-06:00

My favorite Valentine's Day pun (via @owlcity):

Me: Whale you be my valentine?
You: Dolphinitely.

Urban Village

2011-02-11T16:25:00.004-06:00

A few months ago, I saw the above advertisements around Chicago for a new church called Urban Village. You can see what I wrote here. Just recently, I met with the pastor of Urban Village, Trey Hall (@pastortreyhall).

It was a good time; a really good time.

Although, I have yet to attend a service at Urban Village, I am really happy with what this church is doing in Chicago. Even though I am a member of another church, I think it important to point out other congregations that are doing good work. Doing so builds up unity and reminds us that we are in this together. So as an outside voice, I want to say I am glad Urban Village exists. I am impressed with the leadership there. Their passion and vision is great. And, I already know they are making a difference in some of my friends' lives. For that, I am thankful for Urban Village.

So, if you're in Chicago and are gay, straight, old, young, democrat, republican, conservative, liberal, female, male, love church, are skeptical of church, or been hurt by churches or Christians, I encourage you to check our Urban Village in the South Loop or Wicker Park.

And if you get the chance, grab coffee with someone from the pastoral staff. It'll be a good time.

Stop Arguing, Start Listening

2011-02-08T16:53:00.002-06:00

I recently read a great blog post about arguing. Entitled Arguing is Pointless Paul Bergman wrote for the blog on Harvard Business Review. Here is the full article.

Bergman argues that arguing is pointless. He states:

Think about it. You and someone have an opposing view and you argue. You pretend to listen to what she's saying but what you're really doing is thinking about the weakness in her argument so you can disprove it. Or perhaps, if she's debunked a previous point, you're thinking of new counter-arguments. Or, maybe, you've made it personal: it's not just her argument that's the problem. It's her. And everyone who agrees with her.

In some rare cases, you might think the argument has merit. What then? Do you change your mind? Probably not. Instead, you make a mental note that you need to investigate the issue more to uncover the right argument to prove the person wrong.

When I think back to just about every argument I've ever participated in — political arguments, religious arguments, arguments with Eleanor or with my children or my parents or my employees, arguments about the news or about a business idea or about an article or a way of doing something — in the end, each person leaves the argument feeling, in many cases more strongly than before, that he or she was right to begin with.

How likely is it that you will change your position in the middle of fighting for it? Or accept someone else's perspective when they're trying to hit you over the head with it?

Arguing achieves a predictable outcome: it solidifies each person's stance. Which, of course, is the exact opposite of what you're trying to achieve with the argument in the first place. It also wastes time and deteriorates relationships.

There's only one solution: stop arguing.

Resist the temptation to start an argument in the first place. If you feel strongly about something in the moment, that's probably a good sign that you need time to think before trying to communicate it.

If someone tries to draw you into an argument? Don't take the bait. Change the subject or politely let the person know you don't want to engage in a discussion about it.

And if it's too late? If you're in the middle of an argument and realize it's going nowhere? Then you have no choice but to pull out your surprise weapon. The strongest possible defense, guaranteed to overcome any argument:

Listening.

Simply acknowledge the other and what he's saying without any intention of refuting his position. If you're interested, you can ask questions — not to prove him wrong — but to better understand him.

Because listening has the opposite effect of arguing. Arguing closes people down. Listening slows them down. And then it opens them up. When someone feels heard, he relaxes. He feels generous. And he becomes more interested in hearing you.

That's when you have a shot of doing the impossible: changing that person's mind. And maybe your own. Because listening, not arguing, is the best way to shift a perspective.

Then, when you want to leave the conversation, say something like,"Thanks for that perspective." Or "I'll have to think about that," and walk away or change the subject.

I agree with Bergman's thoughts. Lately, I've been so over the fighting, especially when it comes to sexuality and the Bible. Too much arguing and no dialogue. It reminds me of a video I recently saw of the Dali Lama talking to a group of students. He said that when we come together to have dialogue, we need to have both respect and compassion for the other person. If we respect the other person and have compassion on them, even though we might vehemently disagree, our dialogue will be productive.

Stop Arguing, Start Listening. Respect and Compassion. I'm willing to try that.

Pastors Pastoring One Another

2011-02-08T10:44:00.004-06:00

I've been MIA from the blog for the last couple weeks. Most recently I attended a week long conference called Midwinter, which is hosted by the Evangelical Covenant Church (ECC).

The week was full of morning sessions, workshops throughout the day, and evening sessions. The last time I attended Midwinter I did not know many pastors in the denomination; I was simply a graduate student going to workshops to soak up some good lectures.

Over the last couple years, however, I have come to meet quite a few pastors and ministers within the ECC. Therefore, this year I was able to converse with people throughout the hallways of the hotel. Some saw me preach at a retreat, others were a part of conferences that I attended, a few even recognized me from my post on Coming Out Covenant.

I have to say, though, that my favorite part of the conference was bumping into someone I knew, starting a conversation, then realizing two hours later just how long we had been talking.

The fourth day I was excited to attend a workshop from 10:30am to 4:30pm. That didn't happen. I met up with a pastor and we ended up talking for two hours over coffee. That afternoon, I bumped into a mentor/pastor who I worked under for a couple years. She and I spent time catching up. I ended up grabbing coffee with my current pastor. At another point, I stopped a pastor whose book I had just read. I got to pick his brain about his book, grace, and the Church. These conversations became my favorite moments of the week, perhaps of the month.

At one point during the week, I was talking with a pastor who is in his mid-sixties. He talked about how homosexuality is a "problem" that won't go away. A few of us seminarians reminded him that homosexuality isn't a problem and will never go away because really it is about people; people won't go away. He mentioned he hadn't thought about that and thanked us for our words. Later, he gave us advice about our futures. After our two hour lunch, we hugged and went on our way. It was a great lunch.

I realized that Midwinter is all about pastors pastoring one another. Different generations of pastors coming together to pastor one another for a week. Conservative and liberal; men and women; old and young; African-American, Asian, Latino/a, Caucasian. It was encouraging and affirming, challenging and thought-provoking.

Pastors pastoring one another.

I don't know if I can describe it any other way.
It's a beautiful sight.

What's the Loving Thing to Do? (Coming Out Covenant)

2011-01-28T16:28:00.003-06:00

I wrote a guest post for Coming Out Covenant called "What is the Loving Thing to Do?" Check it out here.

Check out their other posts, "like" them on facebook, or follow them on twitter: @comingoutcov.

Taste the Rainbow

2011-01-27T14:29:00.004-06:00

Here is a great spoken word piece called Skittles

It is by a 17yr old here in Chicago and was recently featured on NPR. Check it out! He has also shared part of his story on Coming Out Covenant.

Coming Out Covenant

2011-01-19T21:33:00.005-06:00

Currently, I am a part of the Evangelical Covenant Church. It is a smaller denomination that prides itself on being small yet fiery. They push to be a multi-ethnic denomination that plants churches, ordains women into all areas of ministry, and seeks to do justice and love mercy. According to their website, the Evangelical Covenant Church is: Evangelical, but not exclusive; Biblical, but not doctrinaire; Traditional, but not rigid; Congregational, but not independent. I have learned to really enjoy this denomination because they are like a family. People know one another. People truly care for one another. It's easy to belong.

Yet, when it comes to sexuality, the ECC is quite conservative. Not everyone in the denomination agrees with the stance on sexuality. Many think the ECC should change it's stance and become fully inclusive. Others are a bit more moderate while others are conservative. It is on this topic that I am writing my thesis.

Recently, a few "Covenanters" started a blog entitled "Coming Out Covenant." The goal in creating the website is to

"give Covenanters everywhere a place where they can “Come Out” in support of full inclusion of Gay and Lesbian and Trans-Gender people within the Covenant Church...[it] is not a petition or a political movement, it is just a forum where people can give “voice” to what heretofore they were afraid to say, “That God don’t make no junk! That all people regardless of sexual orientation are to be loved cared for and included in the life of the community of faith. That Jesus is about the task of gathering all sinners, and that all of us ARE sinners. That Jesus is uniting all peoples of the earth in a kingdom of love, and grace.”"

In a way I am sadden that it is a website that must be created for such a dialogue to occur yet I am happy that people are taking a stand on an important topic. It is a big step. People are taking risks. Pastors are taking risks. Seminary students are taking risks. It's a step. I will be adding my voice to the conversation as a guest blogger in the coming weeks. Be sure to check it out.

www.comingoutcovenant.com
Twitter: @comingoutcov

A Dream

2011-01-17T10:59:00.003-06:00

Every year on this day, I read Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech. And every year, I find something new and powerful about it. Like all his speeches and writing, they speak for themselves, they motivate, they build up. His words make me dream.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

Belong, Believe, Become

2011-01-12T10:15:00.002-06:00

A couple weeks ago, I preached at New Community Covenant Church in Chicago. The title of my talk was "Belong, Believe, Become." I'll be doing more writing on this in the coming weeks, but the podcast was just put up.

If you're interested, you can listen to the sermon here.

Regardless of Orientation, Seek Holiness

2011-01-11T11:02:00.003-06:00

I was asked to write a blog post for a Blog-a-thon entitled, Sex & the Soul through Faith On Campus. There are numerous contributors over the coming days. You can see the line up here. Feel free to check it out.

You can check out my post here: Regardless of Orientation, Seek Holiness.

Or, if you're too lazy to click a link, I'll give the full text below.
---

Here’s a bold claim: I do not think that “Gay Christian” is an oxymoron. I do, however, think there are other adjectives being put before Christian that create an oxymoronic term. “Greedy Christian,” “Judgmental Christian,” “Hateful Christian,” “Violent Christian,” Graceless Christian” are a few that come to mind. But not “Gay Christian.”

Lately, I have been questioning if putting any adjective before the word Christian is such a good idea. The wise and late Michael Spencer, aka the Internet Monk, thinks that sticking so many adjectives in front of the word Christian has, in actuality, forced the term to lose some of its meaning. Being a Christian for him means knowing God as the Father through his Son, Jesus; experiencing forgiveness and a right relationship with God; following the way of Jesus in a community; and participating in the mission and life of the Kingdom of God throughout the world. (For more, see his Mere Churchianity).

I think I believe with the Internet Monk on this one. Regardless of our orientation, if you believe the above, I’m pretty sure you can call yourself a Christian. It seems that if our identity is Christ, we should not be modifying it with any adjectives. Christ is our all in all. Because of Christ, I have decided to make my own life Christ-like, as flawed as I am. It seems odd to me, though, that some people believe that being gay can discredit a belief in God.

Too often, the Christian community overly sexualizes the term gay. As soon as one hears the term, the often-immediate response is thoughts of two people of the same sex having sexual relations. But that shouldn’t be the case. It needs to stop. It’s dehumanizing. Just because one identifies as gay does not mean they are sexually promiscuous. They might be, sure, but I know countless heterosexual Christians that seem to enjoy sleeping around even though they “preach” sexual purity.

I have a good friend with whom I attended seminary. He is one of the most knowledgeable Christians I know, from his actions and life I learn about God. His preaching is amazing. He loves the Lord and I know that the Holy Spirit dwells within him. He loves hymns. He knows Scripture. He is humble, kind, loving, patient, gracious, and gentle. He loves communion and was baptized and confirmed into the Church. He is also gay.

Is there a place for him in the Church? I sure hope so. The Church would be missing out on an amazing Christian man if he weren’t allowed to belong.

What is so interesting is that he is more sexually pure than I am, a heterosexual Christian. I do not even think he has held hands with another male. Although gay, he is currently celibate and abstinent. Yet, because he identifies as gay, he will be shunned, people will question if he actually is a Christian, he may not be able to pastor, it is assumed he isn’t sexually pure, among other things. However, if as a heterosexual pastor I become addicted to porn or am sexually promiscuous, I will most likely be allowed to continue my pastorate; with some accountability, repentance, and perhaps counseling all will be considered fine. Most churches will hire me, a heterosexual Christian with some past sexual promiscuity, over him, a sexually pure gay Christian. This doesn’t make sense. This just might be hypocrisy.

I am convinced that all Christians, regardless of our sexual orientation, must pursue a “holy-sexuality.” (This language comes from Christopher Yuan). That means we pursue holiness in all aspects of our life. Therefore, it’s not about heterosexuality or homosexuality, but instead “holy-sexuality.”

If we are single, we keep our thought life pure and pursue holiness. We decide that countless sexual partners may not be what God has intended. We work to stop lusting after and objectify other people. If we are in a relationship, we continue to pursue holiness and purity. We work for the edification of our partner. We put them before ourselves, we love self-sacrificially, we keep our thought life pure, we encourage them, we pray for them, and we love them as Christ does.

So if you are a Christian, regardless of your orientation, pursue holiness. Be holy like God is holy. Don’t be holy because I told you or a pastor says so, but seek holiness because of what God has done for us through Christ. For there is nothing we have done that will make God love us less and there is nothing that we will do that will make God love us more. Even though we are more jacked up and sinful than we ever imagined, in Christ, we are more accepted, loved, and cherished than we ever hoped at the same time. That is why I pursue holiness.

Never Argue Scripture?

2011-01-04T11:46:00.002-06:00

Recently, Candace Chellew-Hodge wrote an article for the Huffington Post entitled, “Whey Gays and Lesbians Should Never Argue Scripture.” She is a United Church of Christ minister and has written the book Bulletproof Faith, as well as being the founder of the online magazine Whosoever.

I agree with her on some points. I disagree with her at others. There are thousands of comments about the article at Huffington Post. Some say she is naïve, while others praise her. Some LGBT individuals mentioned they do want to argue Scripture so proper doctrine is taught. I would imagine many heterosexual Christians might say the same. I can understand the pushback she will receive, as well as the possible comments I may get on this blog. But I agree with her, I am tired that dialogue is not happening. I’m tired that so many of us feel the need to fight over what is roughly 1% of the Bible. I’m grieved that so many of us, who claim to be Christians and seek to be a “body,” fight and become divisive rather than fight for ecclesial unity. And I agree that, “instead of arguing, let us love one another, even those with whom we disagree.” That’s a difficult task of course, but something for which I’d fight.

Here is a portion of her article. I might be opening a can of worms, but what are your thoughts?

There are several reasons that gays and lesbians should never argue scripture. First, it's pointless and nobody wins. Those who are anti-gay have their authorities and scriptural interpretations and so do pro-gay people. No one wins a "they said, they said" argument because no one will believe the scholars from either side no matter what argument anyone makes.

Secondly, arguing over scripture just hardens the opinions of both sides. Neither side is willing to give an inch. This is not a true dialogue, it's simply a contest of who can argue the longest, and usually the loudest. No one is convinced, and everyone leaves further entrenched in their own ideas, and usually angry. No education happens, and little, if any, compassion ever happens.

Thirdly, the arguers on either side never share the same starting point on scripture. Those who are anti-gay are more likely to see the Bible as the infallible "Word of God" -- which means the words literally dripped from the lips of God through the pens of the scribes and onto the page. Each jot and tittle is God-breathed and never to be contradicted. (Never mind that much of the Bible is full of contradictions and much of it we disregard with impunity these days. Those sorts of inconveniences never actually apply to the argument around homosexuality.)

Those who argue from the pro-gay side are generally those who see the Bible as inspired by God, but not the literal, infallible words of God. This means they are more open to different interpretations and approaches to scripture. Those who see the Bible as "God's literal word" only know one way to read any passage, and it's usually to back up their current beliefs about God, homosexuality or any other issue.

The most important reason, however, that gays and lesbians should never, ever argue about scripture is because the Bible has nothing much to say about homosexuality. We have to remember that this is an ancient book. It was written at a time when people believed the world was flat and that the earth was in the middle of a three-tiered world with heaven above and hell below. It was written at a time when people believed that the whole of human reproduction was held in the sperm of a man and a woman was merely an incubator. Speaking of women, this was a time when they were seen as chattel -- property to be passed along from father to husband, from husband to brother and so on. It was written at a time when slavery was seen as God-ordained and animal sacrifice was the way to cleanse sins.

In short, we cannot extract modern ideas from an ancient book. The writers of the Bible no more understood homosexuality than they understood that a spherical Earth orbited the sun. At most, we have a commentary on same-sex sexual behavior involving lust and abuse, but nothing -- pro or con -- about the modern concept of sexual orientation. […]

We don't learn about God by pulling out tiny details of the book and proclaiming them as true for all time. Instead, the Bible puts us in touch with God when we recognize its overarching message, which can be summarized by 1 John 4:7-8: "Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love."

The reason gays and lesbians should never argue over scripture is because[…]arguing over it produces nothing but strife, division and hatred. Anything that does not promote love is not of God. Instead of arguing, let us love one another, even those with whom we disagree. This is God's message to us. Nothing else matters.

Another Resolution(s)

2011-01-03T11:56:00.005-06:00

I wonder how many people have already broken their New Year's resolutions.

I think from now on, I am going to make astronomical and ridiculous resolutions. For instance, this year, my resolution is to walk on the moon and live in Antarctica for a month.

See, I already know that I will fail at that resolution. I won't even try.

But, if I lose ten pounds this year, I'm pretty much awesome!

This year was a doozie. Some great and memorable events occurred. Some pain and struggles occurred as well.

I went through my blog and found the post I made last year called A Better Resolution.

I said this last year:

And on this night, I see people who do not often associate with one another, people who are of different races, different languages, different religions and creeds coming together to dance, celebrate, and watch fireworks. They are full of memories from the year behind them and hopeful of the 365 days to come. I see people hugging, singing Auld Lang Syne, kissing loved ones, and proudly wearing horrible paper tiaras that one would/should never wear in public.

And on top of all this, I see humanity. For one night, I see it. It humbles me. It makes me want to hug everyone. I see people as creations of a loving God. I see similarities rather than differences. I don’t mean to be all sappy, but almost everyday I forget humanity. I walk through lonely city streets where you ignore everyone, where the city is grey due to lack of smiles. A city full of people who touch one another crammed on a bus yet are longing for someone to hug them. A city full of “shadowy faces by my side, a sadness that everyone hides, but they go home at night and they fall in line again.” A city full of millions of people and yet these same millions longing for others to simply know their name. And I forget humanity. I forget these people.

So on a night like this, I rejoice in this world. I am hopeful, hopeful for a new year, new perspectives, and new possibilities. And I could make resolutions- lose weight, get my six-pack, whiten my teeth, get a new job with better pay. But we all know that I won’t keep them passed 12:01am on January 1st. And plus, those are based off of my “I”-merica mindset. Or I could brag about my last years’ accomplishments. But how selfish can I be?

Instead I want to do better.

I want to love better. I want to smile better. I want to hope better. I want to remember humanity better. I want to serve others better. I want to listen better. I want be present with my loved ones better. I want to learn better. I want to know God better. And I don’t want to do better thinking I will get things in return or to puff me up. I want to do better so that this world, which most days is not better, will be united better. And not just one night of the year when we’re drunk wearing tiaras. I want better. All of it, better.

And that I think that is a resolution that’s better.

I don't know if I kept that resolution all year. Perhaps at some points I did well. Perhaps at others, I failed miserably. Perhaps it's a bit overly optimistic and hopeful.

I'm not sure how I defined "better" last year. I'm not sure how I might define it this year.

But even so, I think I might make that my resolution again this year.

I'm looking forward to this year. I know it will be better.

Winter Observation in Andersonville

2010-12-17T12:23:00.001-06:00

My neighborhood, Andersonville, is the Land of the Dogs over the summer. Dogs are everywhere! People walk dogs as often as they breathe. I think the ratio of dog to human is 8:1. Because of the above, however, this winter I am realizing that my neighborhood is now the Land of the Yellow Snow. It’s everywhere.

Careful Walking and Happy Holidays!

The Road to Emmaus Ministries

2010-12-16T14:53:00.001-06:00

I was recently introduced to a great organization in the Uptown neighborhood of Chicago. It is called Emmaus Ministries and it seeks to reach out to young men who are trapped by male street prostitution (hustling), generational poverty, homelessness, drug addiction and HIV/AIDS. Emmaus hopes to “build relationships of trust with these men, working together to help them get off the streets and build a relationship with Jesus Christ.”

Surprisingly, male prostitution is on the rise in urban areas and yet male prostitutes often blend into the general homeless population, often being less visible than female prostitution. Nationwide, males now account for roughly 50 percent of all prostitution arrests. According to Emmaus Ministries, contrary to some assumptions, hustling includes both heterosexual and gay men who engage in prostitution to feed drug or alcohol addictions or to fight off homelessness.

Emmaus “considers male hustlers to be the most [forgotten people] in our nation’s cities and a population that’s marginalized and abused even within the homeless community. Male hustlers often contend with learning disabilities, illiteracy, mental illness, addiction and homelessness. They come from backgrounds filled with physical and sexual abuse (including parents who prostitute them), neglect, generational welfare, poverty, and criminality.”

Thus, Emmaus Ministries seeks to restore their dignity through intentional community, discipleship, and practical assistance. Seven nights a week, 365 days a year, teams of men and women walk the streets to offer hot coffee, cookies, and invite men to the Emmaus drop-in center. Not only does Emmaus provide hot showers, laundry facilities, clothing and other practical needs for those men in prostitution at their drop-in center, but the Emmaus staff, volunteers, and men off the streets sit down to eat a family style meal together on a weekly basis. Finally, Emmaus Ministries has their Kaio Community, which is an intentional community that seeks to learn about urban ministry and works as key volunteers in return for free room and board, health insurance, and a small weekly stipend.

In my travels and work in Thailand, I saw a lot of prostitution and the sex slave industry first hand. It was heartbreaking and overwhelming. The children to whom I taught English in the slums of Bangkok may very soon be forced into such abusive prostitution. Yet being in the U.S., I do not often realize that prostitution, and human trafficking even, exists in my backyard. It’s easy to think it’s a problem somewhere else, not a few blocks from my apartment. I am so impressed with Emmaus Ministries and think they are doing some amazing work. They are in the grit and dirty work of ministry- walking the streets from 10pm-4am, intentionally building relationships with men who are often ignored, and giving their lives to better the lives of others. I applaud what they do.

I encourage you to check out how you might be able to get involved with Emmaus Ministries- you can volunteer, walk the streets, donate clothing or food, receive their newsletter, get an educational tour, cook a meal for the guys, or give financially. Check out their website at ww.streets.org or “like” them at facebook.com/EmmausChicago.

Top 10 Christmas Songs

2010-12-15T14:38:00.004-06:00

Every year while I was acting, I did a Christmas show. Two hours of constant Christmas music to entertain audiences. Two years in a row I did the same Christmas show, Spirit of the Season. I would start singing Christmas tunes in October during rehearsals and sing them everyday until the end of the year. Sometimes I would carol for extra cash. I have a binder of carols, of which I can sing both the tenor and bass line. Needless to say, by the end of the year, I really disliked Christmas music. These tunes are good for a week or two, not ten.

And yet, I still have my favorites.
Below are my top ten Christmas songs:

10. Merry Christmas Darling

9. You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

8. Oh Come, Oh Come, Emanuel

7. Baby, It’s Cold Outside (the Glee version is real good)

6. Welcome Christmas (Dr Seuss version)

5. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

4. O Holy Night

3. All I Want for Christmas is You

2. White Christmas

1. The Christmas Song

Once Upon a Time...

2010-12-14T17:48:00.003-06:00

“Once upon a time…there was a truck. The End.” That was a story told to me this past weekend by a three year old in California. It was a really good story, I think. Cade, as we call him, is technically my second cousin, but we would be good buddies if we lived closer. We both like Batman. We are good at building forts. We can make fun farting noises with our mouths. We even love the book “If You Give a Pig a Pancake.”

I spent the weekend in San Diego to baptize my other second cousin. So, needless to say, I spent a lot of time around these kids. I used to really dislike kids. They freaked me out. If they started crying I felt the urge to flee on foot as quickly as possible. If I saw them vomit, I felt the need to do the same. I would become frustrated when they would not converse with me on such topics as politics or religion and instead just make ‘ga-ga’ noises. Then something clicked. I started to like them. Perhaps it was the fact that I started to have friends who had kids. Perhaps it was because I spent some time working as a chaplain in the Pediatrics unit at Rush. Or perhaps my biological clock is ticking. Who knows? But, now I enjoy them…at least the well behaved ones.

And so it was a joy to watch my little cousins all weekend. They are so stinking adorable. They do really stilly things- things that if an adult did them, I would make fun of them. At times I wish I were more like them. Well, not in the “I need someone else to wipe my butt” way, but in the loving carefree kind of way. Kids are so trusting. They are so energetic. They share things with you. They are resilient. They are joyful. They are playful. They are worry-free.

Most days, I am not worry-free. Quite the opposite, I am almost constantly stressed about something. Yet kids trust that everything will work out. Or, perhaps they don’t even think that far in advance. They are always in the moment. They are honest and say whatever comes to their minds. They sulk but bounce right back. They have a capacity to love in ways that I wish I could.

And so, I want to be more like a child. I want to be carefree. I want to love madly. I want to be more trusting. I want to be present. I want to be honest. I want to have an endless imagination.

I heard one of the most loving things from my cousin, the father of Cade. In the car, I mentioned how exhausting kids are. There was a slight pause. Then, my cousin said, “yeah, but it’s worth it.” I think I concur.

Pastors Disagree but Still Love

2010-12-03T10:39:00.002-06:00

The following post was featured on Andrew Marin's blog "Love is an Orientation." There are some good comments over there. I've included the full text below.
---

I recently spoke at a conference on the east coast to just over 100 pastors about homosexuality and the Church. All of these pastors have been in ministry for numerous years, some longer than I have been alive. They also are all part of the same denomination, many went to seminary together, and they often come together for retreats. On this occasion, the retreat focused on sexuality.

The denomination, to which these pastors belong, holds to a traditional view concerning homosexuality. Yet, as I quickly learned, not all the pastors at this retreat agreed with the denominational stance. This is a sticky situation for many- how does one publicly teach denominational stances yet still privately dissent?

And so during this week of lectures and Q&A sessions, I heard a lot of pastors openly and honestly express their concerns. Some affirmed same-sex marriages; others maintained that homosexuality was a sin. And yet through it all, everyone seemed to get a long. I mean, for real. Debates would occur in a session but around the dinner table laughs were had.

The women and men at this retreat agreed to disagree theologically. They agree to voice their concerns and thoughts. But they agreed to remain united and, more importantly, they agreed to love one another.

At one point a pastor got up and passionately made a point about his disagreement with certain theological beliefs in the denomination. He mentioned when people often make their “theology” their pastoral response, they mess things up. Then he went on to say, with tears in his eyes, how much he loves the other pastors that were in that room. Another made the point that his call as a pastor meant he should be willing to die for another. It seemed that their unity as a church community was more important than their theological beliefs about six passages of Scripture.

And so, lately I have been thinking about the utter importance of ecclesial unity. The Gospel compels us to remain united. The Gospel compels us to sit in pews with people who may vehemently disagree with us on particular theological issues and yet still be able to “pass the peace” and worship as one congregation. That is the offensiveness of grace. Just look at the book of Jonah for a lesson on offensive grace. Churches cannot divide over this theological topic. In my opinion, division is sinful. It is more damaging to split over this topic than to remain united with differing opinions. If churches divide, we are giving a watching world yet another reason why they should have nothing to do with Christianity.

The reason I work for The Marin Foundation is because I have so many close friends who are LGBT and sadly most of them want nothing to do with Jesus or the Church. I have always loved the Church and I have always loved my gay friends. And for years I could not figure out why it seemed the two could not go together. I want nothing else than to be able to go to church with them.

But I’ve learned the Gospel compels me to more. Not only am I to sit in pews with my gay friends whom I love dearly, but in the same pews, should be the people who call my loved ones “faggot.”

I don’t think I am at that place yet. But I know that is what I am compelled to believe and hope to enact. That’s reconciliation. Jesus, after he was resurrected, went back to the people who murdered him and forgave them. He essentially said “I still love you, I want to sit next to you in the pew.”

My hope is that even in our differing theological opinions, our pastoral response is always one of “let’s sit in this pew together.”

Where's My Perspective- Guest Blog Post

2010-12-02T10:55:00.001-06:00

I recently wrote a guest blog post on Andrew Marin's blog. Feel free to check it out. I've also included the full text below.

For one summer, I worked as a chaplain at Rush University Medical Center. Specifically, I was the chaplain for the Pediatrics and Pediatrics Intensive Care Unit, however I also covered the entire hospital on my 24-hour shifts. I was forced to deal with death, a lot of it actually. In the span of a matter of months, I witnessed more deaths than most people will in two or three lifetimes. I saw a lot of grief and pain. And so, in that time, the hospital became a place where people died. It was my experience.

Over the summer, I was in the hospital due to blood clots and a pulmonary embolism. It was a terrifying time for me and opened my eyes to my own mortality. My time in the hospital and the countless doctor visits after made me quite anxious. I realized that being in the hospital to get better was not a comfort to me because my experience was from my chaplaincy. My mom, in all her loving wisdom, told me that being in the hospital was the best place for me, it was a place of healing. But those words fell void since my previous experience told me that the hospital was a place of death.

My perspective needed to change. My experiences influenced my decisions. Both my perspective and my experiences were true. Both enabled me to know certain truths. But relying on one more than the other made my perspective skewed. And yet, the hospital did not kill me, it made me better. My mom, as always, was right. It was a place of healing.

And so I think about the feud between the Christian community and the LGBT community. How skewed are our perspectives? I think we are both guilty of letting stereotypes, negative experiences, or uneducated assumptions skew our feelings. I am not, of course, negating people’s experiences, especially painful and hurtful ones. I am, however, asking how do our perspectives need to change? I recently saw a video of the Dalai Lama speaking to Stanford University on the need for constructive dialogue in resolving conflict. He argued that compassion and respect for the other needs to extend beyond creeds or beliefs. I think I agree.

I recently read a scholar’s book where he pointed out how often the disciples following Jesus had to change their minds. They were set on a particular doctrine, creed or aspect of the Law and then Jesus did or said something that forced them to change their perspective. They experienced numerous events that changed their perspective. Did they stop believing? No. But did their change in perspective cause them to live out those beliefs in incredibly different and healing ways? Absolutely.

So, how do our perspectives need to change? How does our perspective of the “other” need to change? Whom do we need to better understand?

Does our perspective on faith and sexuality need to change? Does our understanding of grace need to change?

Do we allow ourselves the option to change our perspective or does our fear or phobia of the other trump that?
I strongly believe some of our perspectives need to change, and quickly at that. Too often I see many of us, mostly myself, thinking a certain perspective is death rather than a chance for health.

If a difference in my perspective can bring health, then I’m willing to try and change it.

I’m all for health; my health and the health of others.

Gay Christian Role Models

2010-12-01T17:32:00.002-06:00

Recently I saw a tweet that asked, “what gay Christian (living or not) has impacted you the most?” I saw some follow up answers. Some people have said Henri Nouwen, Jennifer Knapp, Ray Boltz, Mel White, John McNeill, among countless others. Some have said their uncle, a family member. I bet some people even stated there is no such thing.

(I’m not going to go in depth to counter those who say gay Christian is an oxymoron. I will simply say I do not think Gay Christian is an oxymoron. I do, however, think that greedy Christian, judgmental Christian, apathetic Christian, unloving Christian, and hateful Christian are oxymoronic. I also question, as Christians, whether any prefix should come before the term Christian. Shouldn't that be our sole identity?)

This of course got me thinking about some things. I began to wonder what gay Christians are my role models. I know some gay scholars that I highly respect. I know of a few gay pastors who I respect. I have dozen of friends that are gay Christians that I highly respect and cherish.

But then I was struck by a recent conversation I had with a college student. He had just recently come out to his family and was looking for some advice on life, faith, and sexuality. He said that for years he didn’t want to come out because he thought that Christian and gay could not go together. However, he found that they could. He simply said, “I know I’m both, not one or the other.” Then he said to me how wished he had a role model. A gay role model; a gay Christian role model.

He longs to learn from other gay Christians how to live. Where does he find other gay Christians? How does he do this thing called faith? How does he live out holiness in regards to his sexuality? Who will guide him through this coming out process? Who will disciple him?

And I realized that this must be the sentiment of so many other young gay youth. I know there are incredible LGBT Christians out there. I know a few gay seminarians that challenge me daily and I am quickly learning how much I cherish these new friendships. But do these youth know that? Do young gay youth know they are not alone? Yes there is the Trevor Project, the It Gets Better Campaign, and countless other support networks. But it seems this college student doesn’t want to see another video of some famous person telling him it will get better. He wants something more, something tangible. He needs another person.

There is a need for gay role models. I don’t intend this to be a soapbox to tell gay Christians go out to be role models. I don’t think that is my place. I clearly lack certain attributes. I can only empathize and sympathize so far when it comes to those who are gay Christians. I am left feeling a bit helpless.

Yet, I am hopeful. I know this young man looking for a gay Christian role model is already becoming one himself.

The Zip Codes of Life

2010-11-29T18:25:00.002-06:00

I made a list of zip codes the other day. Not just any zip codes but the zip codes in which I have lived for an extended amount of time. I have memories from each, both good and bad. One was where I first learned to ride a bike. Another is where I fell in love. There are a few where I have had my heart broken. In most I did something ridiculous and/or embarrassing. But they each serve as a memory to my life.

I’ve been fortunate to call these places “home” for some amount of time. And yet, as I look at all these zip codes “home” is so much more than a location. But each of these zip codes has become a marker in my life. Name one of them and I could tell you about my neighborhood, the coffee shops I frequented, the friends I had, the color of the dirt, or my favorite spot to sit. They are more than just numbers.

And I think these zip codes formed who I have become. I learned a lot living in NW1 4NS, while I picked up saying “ya’ll” while in 37040. In 23185, I had a killer summer and was introduced to Maroon 5. I got my heart broken, had a mustache, and fell in love with friends while in 85205. Spent hours with my best friend in 61951. And now, I’m learning the intricacies and hidden treasures of 60640.

It’s interesting how some numbers could hold so many memories for me. I miss each one at times. They are more than just numbers.

60126
61108
NW1 4NS
47326
22601
23602
23185
37040
85205
61951
33907
17601
10032
60625
60640

Neglected Resources

2010-11-24T12:29:00.001-06:00

As I write my thesis, I have read a lot of sources pertaining to homosexuality and the Church. Most of those who have written extensively are men. Some, of course, are gay men. Yet I am having trouble finding sources from lesbian authors, let alone bisexual or transgender authors. I have, though, found some autobiographical writing but not many at that.

So, I am asking for your help. Do you know of any resources that would educate me about the lesbian community? Or perhaps lesbian theologians? I don't want to neglect resources that might be incredibly useful. So, send them my way. Leave me a comment, tell me your favorites. I'm hoping Santa brings me a gift card to Borders or Amazon so I'm ready to get better edumacated.

Thanks!

A Pastor Comes Out, A 14yr Old Defends

2010-11-15T12:45:00.003-06:00

It's been a while since I have posted. I most recently was in NH speaking to a group of over 100 pastors on homosexuality. It was an incredibly fruitful and affirming time. Conversations were incredible, tears were shed, and constructive dialogue started.

If you haven't heard, the pastor of a megachurch in Georgia, Jim Swilley, recently came out to his congregation during a sermon. There's a lot of the web about it these days, but below is a recent interview with him on CNN. I thought I would share it. Some may love this, others may disagree completely. It makes me think, hope it makes you think as well.

The following is of a 14 year old student who defended his teacher, Jay McDowell at a recent school board meeting. McDowell was disciplined on October 20 for removing two students who had made anti-gay remarks in class. Not only is he incredibly articulate, but the speech is great.

Water Fountains

2010-10-25T12:30:00.002-05:00

Do you think this is the case?
Do straights realize the heterosexism that surrounds them?
Do we know the stories of gays who feel this way daily?
Do we turn a blind eye and simply drink?
Can we take down the labels?

Are people willing to extend enough grace so all may quench their thirst? I sure hope so because most days I'm really thirsty.

I'm Wearing Purple.

2010-10-20T13:14:00.002-05:00

I couldn't have said it any better than this picture on the Orant blog.

End the Hate.

Orant: Lift Up Your Heart: End the Hate

This is Happening.

2010-10-14T14:45:00.011-05:00

I thought I would share the following videos. One brought me to tears, the other to utter disgust.

The first is a city councilman, Joel Burns, giving a speak in Texas about the bullying of gay youth. The second is a group of Yankees fans singing alternative lyrics to YMCA (The language is a bit graphic).

I've thought about commenting on each of them, but I think the juxtaposition of the two videos will speak well enough. Their words speak more powerfully than my own. I will say Joel Burns' tears move me to action. I will also say the smiles of the fans while singing is the worst part and move me to action...and may make me want to punch something. Regardless of my thoughts, watch, listen, and know that this is happening.

The Councilman Joel Burns:

The Yankees Game:

National Coming Out Day

2010-10-11T13:43:00.006-05:00

I'm sure you've heard the buzz- It's National Coming Out Day, held every October 11th to raise awareness not only about LGBT issues and rights, but to spark conversation about the process of 'coming out' and make safe places for those men and women who desire to come out.

I won't be 'coming out' this year, since I am not gay, but I stand with my LGBT friends who have and who will come out. The stigma and fear of the coming out process is something to which I cannot relate.

A few years ago, one of my closest friends came out to me. Don't tell him, but my gay-dar went off months before he told me. Only years after him coming out to me did he tell me how afraid he was of telling me he was gay in the first place. He assumed, that because I was a Christian, once he told me he was gay we would no longer be friends. That was his normal experience. Most Christians run from such a situation. It's quite sad. Well, we still are friends and I am daily thankful that he is in my life. There is nothing that would make me lose him as a friend. He has challenged me, loved me, questioned me, guided me, argued with me, cared for me. I hope I have done the same for him. (Love you boo!)

Too many people dehumanize and demonize the LGBT community based off of phobia and ignorance. Rather than running, I hope Christians who don't know many LGBT people start listening to their stories, start developing relationships, and start destroying dehumanizing assumptions they may hold.

So I want to share this video. You may not agree with it, you may love it. My point is not to get into exegetical debates. That happens too often. I am trying to show that some of us Christians have turned the LGBT community into "the least of these" and discarded them entirely. And thus an entire community of people want nothing to do with God or Christianity based on our misrepresentation of a loving God. I refuse to allow anyone to be dehumanized- that I think is unchristian and antithetical to the faith I profess.

This is a video that I hope reminds you that LGBT "issues" are NOT issues at all. It is about people. People with names. People with experiences. People who love. People who are loved. People. It's about people.

Happy Coming Out Day.

Update: A friend just sent me this video. Quite a song. One person's story from their own experience and perspective.

What is the Loving Thing to Do?

2010-10-06T15:30:00.007-05:00

I have been working on my thesis for a few months now and am a couple months behind schedule. Thus far, I've read approximately 25 books on the subject of homosexuality and the Bible. I am looking at original Hebrew and Greek sources, commentaries, and the key writings from both a traditional and pro-gay theological approach. At times, I agree and disagree with both "sides" and think there must be a better way, however, I'm not sure what that way is yet.

Recently I read a few paragraphs in an articled called "Arsenokoites and Malakos" by Dale Martin (Professor of Religious Studies at Yale University) in Sex and the Single Savior (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006) that I can't help but keep thinking about. I am quite impressed by the few works I have read by him. I thought I would quote a passage below. It's a bold statement. I know a lot of readers may vehemently disagree while others will shout a resounding "yes." This is one scholar's opinion, let me remind you. It may not be yours, it may be exactly yours.

I don't share it to get people heated up. I don't share it so people will comment their own opinions/reactions about it on this blog. I don't share it in hopes that more debate will happen; I'm tired of debating most days. I understand I am not giving the full context of Martin's piece or the main thrust of his argument. I do encourage you to check out his work, though.

However, I share it because it is causing me to think; deeply think at that. My hope is that it will do the same for others. My hope is that rather than getting all heated up about this and commenting harsh things on this blog, people will sit back, learn, study, listen, research, discern, and think; doing all of this before saying anything. My hope is that this will remind us this is not about exegetical issues or debates but about people. So here are Martin's words:

"Any interpretation of Scripture that hurts people, oppresses people, or destroys people cannot be the right interpretation, no matter how traditional, historical, or exegetically responsible. There can be no debate about the fact that the church's stand on homosexuality has caused oppression, loneliness, self-hatred, violence, sickness, and suicide for millions of people. If the church wishes to continue with its traditional interpretation it must demonstrate, not just claim, that it is more loving to condemn homosexuality than to affirm homosexuals. Can the church show that same-sex loving relationships damage those involved in them? Can the church give compelling reasons to believe that it really would be better for all lesbian and gay Christians to live alone, without the joy of intimate touch, without hearing a lover's voice when they go to sleep or awake? Is it really better for lesbian and gay teenagers to despise themselves and endlessly pray that their very personalities be reconstructed so that they may experience romance like their straight friends? Is it really more loving for the church to continue its worship of "heterosexual fulfillment" (a "nonbiblical" concept, by the way) while consigning thousands of its members to a life of either celibacy or endless psychological manipulations that masquerade as "healing?"

"The burden of proof in the last twenty years has shifted. There are too many of us who are not sick, or inverted, or perverted, or even "effeminate," but who just have a knack for falling in love with people of our own sex. When we have been damaged, it has not been due to our homosexuality but to others' and our own denial of it. The burden of proof now is not on us, to show that we are not sick, but rather on those who insist that we would be better off going back into the closest. What will "build the double love of God and of our neighbor?"

"I have tried to illustrate how all appeals to "what the Bible says" are ideological and problematic. But in the end, all appeals, whether to the Bible or anything else, must submit to the test of love. To people who say this is simplistic, I say, far from it. There are no easy answers. "Love" will not work as a foundation for ethics in a prescriptive or predictable fashion either- as can be seen by all the injustices, imperialisms, and violence committed in the name of love. But rather than expecting the answer to come from a particular method of reading the Bible, we at least push the discussion to where it ought to be: into the realm of debates about Christian love, rather than into either fundamentalism or modernist historicism.

"We ask the question that must be asked: "What is the loving thing to do?""

(page 50)

There you have it. Let it sink in and think for a while.

It's Got to Stop.

2010-10-04T17:31:00.008-05:00

I'm sure most of you have already seen this, but it seems to me Ellen is saying things that many Christian pastors and preachers should have already been saying yet lack the courage, guts, love, or respect to do so. It seems to me, we Christians, should be the first to stand up for people, to be a voice for the voiceless, fight oppression, seek justice, be merciful, and abundantly kind. But maybe I'm not reading the same Bible as others. As my buddy Andrew says in his own video below, it's time Christians step up and do something.

Do mercy. Do justice. Do kindness. Stop intolerance.

Andrew Marin & The Marin Foundation on Bullying

Even Tim Gunn now has a video out. Again, why aren't Christians making such helpful and powerful videos like these?

Teenage Mutant Genetics

2010-09-22T17:11:00.002-05:00

I found out the other night that I have a genetic mutation on one of my chromosomes. It’s called the Factor V Leiden, some sort of heterozygote mutation. I’m no doctor, but I have learned that I am now seven times more likely than the average person to develop blood clots. So, it explains a lot, especially in regards to all the health problems I have had this summer.

I’ve been wondering if I have a genetic mutation lately; in the last week I decided I NEED all albums by Ke$ha, Colbie Caillat, Katie Perry AND Taylor Swift. Who am I?!

Teenage Dream, oh my!

2010-09-20T13:48:00.001-05:00

This video has made my day...a few times over. Around 2:50 is my utmost favorite facial expression. Enjoy.

The Rainbow and the Ichthus

2010-09-16T15:34:00.000-05:00

Everyday I pass a church. It has a billboard outside of it. The billboard never has incredibly stupid slogans on it such as “This is a ch_ _ ch. What is missing? U R,” of this I am quite thankful. On the corner of this billboard, however, is a small rainbow flag.

I see these all over my neighborhood, including churches and other businesses or merchants. It is often called the Pride Flag or simply the Rainbow Flag. It symbolizes the pride of the LGBT community and has been in use since the ‘70’s. For a community that has been shunned too often or told they are not allowed it is a symbol that says, “you’re welcome here.”

And so, on this church that I pass everyday is the small symbol that says to the LGBT community, “you’re welcome here.”

But I wish it wasn’t there. I wish that such a symbol never had to be put on a church; the one place where I think everyone should be openly welcomed. It’s a sad reality that certain church communities won’t allow certain people access to worship so other church communities have to put a little symbol to say, “you’re welcome here.”

It reminds me of the past. It reminds of me churches that were segregated by race. It reminds me of churches that were segregated by gender. Sad.

Most often, it reminds me of the early church. When the Roman Empire began persecuting and killing Christians, the Christian community began place the ichthus symbol on certain buildings and homes. The ichthus is the little fish- some call it the Jesus fish. But I doubt Jesus actually looked like a fish.

The ichthus was a way to tell Christians, “you’re welcome here,” “you won’t be persecuted here,” “you belong here.”

And so as I pass this rainbow flag everyday, I think of the ichthus. I think that there is a correlation between the ichthus and the rainbow flag in churches. Two communities persecuted and thus a symbol must be the one who speaks a word of welcome. A symbol rather than a person.

This church is saying to those who see the rainbow flag, “you’re welcome here, you won’t be persecuted here, you belong here.”

So although I know there is a need for the rainbow flag to be placed on certain church buildings, I am grieved that they have to be there in the first place. I am sorry that the LGBT community can’t feel at home in all churches. As a Christian, I think that is wrong. Belonging comes before belief.

I will work so that my home and my church will always be a “you’re welcome here, you won’t be persecuted here, you belong here” place. If that means I need to put up as many symbols as possible, I will do it. If that means I have to personally invite people over, I will do it. If that means my church is full of people that no other church would welcome, I will do it.

In the time of the New Testament, eunuchs, women, tax collectors, Gentiles, lepers, homeless, prostitutes, and even children were considered to be scum of the earth. I’m pretty sure dogs had more rights than some of these. It’s quite sad and shocking by our current standards but that was the culture of the time.

This guy name Jesus comes along and says to all of them, “you belong.”
I like his style. I’ll do the same.

Here’s to the rainbow flag.
Here’s to the ichthus.
Here’s to churches that truly welcome all.
And here’s to being able to belong.

Oh, Clive Staples

2010-09-10T16:39:00.000-05:00

Once again, CS Lewis writes something decades ago that I wish I and my other Christian friends more thoroughly understood today:

“The rule for all of us is perfectly simple. Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. If you injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him less. There is, indeed, one exception. If you do him a good turn, not to please God and obey the law of charity, but to show him what a fine forgiving chap you are, and to put him in your debt, and then sit down to wait for his ‘gratitude,’ you will probably be disappointed. (People are not fools: they have a very quick eye for anything like showing off, or patronage.) But whenever we do good to another self, just because it is a self, made (like us) by god, and desiring its own happiness as we desire ours, we shall have learned to love it a little more or, at least, to dislike it less.” –CS Lewis in Mere Christianity

I could comment on this. I could passionately relate it to the LGBT community. I could even make some statements in regards to the possible Qur’an burning fiasco as of late. But instead, I think I am going to let what Lewis says stand and do my best to internalize it, be convicted by it, and live it out.

If I Didn't Do What I Do

2010-09-06T10:22:00.002-05:00

For much of my life I thought I would spend my days singing and acting upon a stage. I did that for many years. It was fulfilling and I could not imagine doing anything but that for the rest of my life. However, life happens and I ended up in graduate school. I actually enjoyed most of it, although, most days I wanted to go back to acting. Now I’m doing things that I never thought I would do and enjoying them, finding fulfillment most days, and am quite happy.

So I’ve been thinking: if I didn’t do what I do, what would I do? Well, I have come up with a list of other careers and/or jobs I would give a try- even if only for a day.

Archaeologist
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these. I’ve always loved archaeologist shows on Discovery Channel. I could see myself in Egypt digging into the hard dirt with one of those hats that covers my neck so I don’t get sun burned. Also, I would use a toothbrush to gently clean off the bones of some prehistoric animal I found. I would name it a really long name that ended in “–sarus” but would nickname it “Paulie.”

Zoologist
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these. I would work at the zoo and feed all the animals. I would not even mind cleaning out the cages. I’d wear waterproof boots. All the animals would know me and I them. The lions I would give huge steaks and the giraffes, buckets of leaves. On lonely days I could talk with all the animals, but most days I would not…it would make me look crazy.

Museum Security Guard/Curator
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these. I must admit the catalyst for this career choice comes from my recent viewing of Night at the Museum 2. Many of the reasons for this career would be the same as the zoologist but all the animals would be stuffed. That way, I could ride the lions.

Secret Service Agent
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these. It would only be for a day, however. For a day on which I did not have to take the bullet for the POTUS. No offense to the POTUS of course, I just don’t know if I have what it takes. But I would love to wear a nice suit, have that cool earpiece, carry a gun, and talk into my wristwatch. I would also learn all the secrets about the White House and Air Force One.

Tollbooth Operator
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these for a day. Just a day, I get bored easily. I would take people’s change and bid them a safe drive on the highway. I’d be the friendliest tollbooth operator ever.

Freemason
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these. However, I think I could still do what I do and become a Freemason. They have secrets and I would learn them all and then expose them. I also would invite more women to join the Freemasons. I would even try becoming an actual mason while being a Freemason. But most importantly, I would be able to ride those funny mini-motorcycles at the Fourth of July Parade while wearing that funny red hat. It would rock.

British Country Living
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these. Well, I wouldn’t be one, but I would live in England in an old cottage. I would visit the pub during the afternoon, enjoy the countryside, spend my days reading, becoming chums with the neighbors, saying “Cheers” all the time, and eating beans and toast for breakfast. It’s been too many years since I have lived in England and I am beginning to miss it.

TV Host
If I didn’t do what I do, I would be one of these. I would host a television show where I got to do all the things I would never do. Such as hosting a show where I got to be a tollbooth operator, zoologist, or freemason for a day! They would film me, I’d mess up a lot so audiences enjoyed the show (makes great bloopers). I could narrate the show and make fun puns about the job I was doing and my inadequacy. I would take great risks, be terrified of certain jobs, and even make some new friends. We wouldn’t win an Emmy however; it would just go to our heads.

So there you have it, what I would do if I didn’t do what I do. If anyone knows of ways these dreams of mine could be a reality, let me know.

I’m off to do what I do.

UPDATE:
Additions to my list:

A Glass Blower
If I didn't do what I do, I would do this. I'd make cool vases and sculptures. Playing with molten glass could be fun. It'd probably be really hot.

The Bills Roll In

2010-08-25T17:08:00.000-05:00

Welp, the bills are coming in and I’m not sure if they anger me or if I’m relieved that I have insurance. It might be a mixture of both. Without insurance these bills would ruin me. And yet I’m fortunate to even have insurance. After all of this, I’m convinced insurance should be a right for all rather than an option for some.

I’m slowly getting better and I am relieved. I thought about writing a post about my emotions during all of this, but I still need time to process it all. I’ll write that soon. It’s been life changing, to say the least, and is a condition with which I will be dealing for many more months.

For those who don’t know I broke my foot, developed blood clots in my leg and lung, was hospitalized and am now recovering from this all. And now, in roll the bills….lots of them.

Here’s the low down thus far:

1 Urgent Care Visit: $950
2.5 day hospital stay: $12,100
3 minute Doctor visit while in hospital: $320 each, once a day.
2 ER visits: $1,500 each
2 Cat Scans: $2,300 each
5 X-rays: tbd
Visit to the Orthopedic Surgeon: $680 per visit (total visits: 3)
2 Ultrasounds: $793 each
Blood work in the Lab: $240 (total so far: 7)
Finger Prick of Blood: $56 each visit, needed every 3 days (total visits: 12)
Visits with Primary Physician: $380 (total visits: 5)
Visit with Partner Doctor: $300
Visit to Pulmonary Doctor: $300 (total visits: 2)
Visit to Hematologist: $300
Pulmonary Function Test: $1,000
Medications/Injections: $1,500 so far (will continue on meds for the next 6 months)
Total: I don’t even want to know; a lot of dough that I do not have.

Lbs lost: 11

Total Ice Cream bars eaten: 23,004 (give or take a few).

Memories of the Neighborhood

2010-08-17T17:02:00.000-05:00

My sister invited me to go on some errands with her today. It was a good way to get me out of the house, as I’m still recovering from blood clots and such. Riding in a car while medicated is quite relaxing. We drove through familiar streets; the ones I can drive down with my eyes closed but am not entirely sure of the street name. On the way home, I asked her to drive down the side streets rather than our normal route. I was amazed at the memories that surfaced.

We drove past my Jr. High school and remembered years of awkward puberty. I think we passed the house of the girl that I was madly in love with in 8th grade and where I spent a Halloween evening. That was the night I stayed out past my curfew and my dad came searching for me. Needless to say not only was I embarrassed in front of my 8th grade crush but was severely punished. We went by a family friends house whose home is still standing among the dozens of new construction surrounding it. I almost wanted to have my sister drive by my high school sweetheart’s house, just to see if it is how I remember it to be. We drove by the intersection where two of my friends got in a car accident one night before theatre rehearsal.

Then I started thinking about all these people that I haven’t thought about in years. Some I’ve “reconnected” with through facebook but it doesn’t seem as if we are friends. A few I have hung out with quite a bit. Others I haven’t thought about for a good 10 years most likely. It was odd driving through my hometown, thinking of Laura, Morgan, Mike, Rahul, Drew, Carrie, Pat, Paul, Danielle, Sean, Ryan, Amy, Robin, Becca, Dan, Geoff or Shannon. The list can go on. Some of these people I invested years of my life. Others I’ve invested great memories. Some I simply remember. I’m not sure if I would even recognize some of them today if I were to see them.

And what is odd is that, in some way, I miss them. I miss these people that at one time were my closest friends. I miss the cuteness that was simple, and by simple I mean awkward, 8th grade crushes. I miss roaming the streets on my huffy bicycle with the ‘guys.’ I miss playing kick the can with the neighborhood kids. I miss knocking on a friend’s door asking if they want to come outside to play. I miss hiking through the backwoods by the Salt Creek or riding my bike down the Prairie Path for what seemed like days at a time.

Perhaps it’s the innocence I miss. Perhaps the memories seem more exciting than reality. Perhaps reminiscing is simply good for my soul.

The neighborhood has changed. It’s not what it was when I was growing up here. In some places its unrecognizable. I’ve lived all over the U.S. and even overseas but this is still home.

So to those who roamed the streets with me years ago, who spent years playing kick the can, who wandered around the neighborhood, who rode the bus with me, who were my closest friends yet now are memories, who entertained me, who sat on the roof of cars in the driveway, who caused me to love better…know that I am thinking of you today and hoping you are well.

The smiles, laughter, and joy we shared while exploring the neighborhood together is what I wish for you today.

Forget Issues, Remember People- Full Text

2010-08-07T15:34:00.002-05:00

Here's the full text of my guest blog post on Andrew Marin's blog. I wrote it on Aug 4th and is my reflection to the Prop 8 decision. I thought I would share it here as well:

I have been sitting in front of my computer trying to come up with words to say tonight. I’ve been typing and deleting almost every sentence I type as I try to respond to what I know is an important day. Prop 8 has been deemed unconstitutional. Instead of any words, I find myself tired.

Here is why. Homosexuality has become an issue in many Christian circles (not all, but many). It’s become a hot-button issue. People are afraid of it. People debate over it. People do awful things to one another because of it. And I have a problem with that. It makes me tired.

My problem is this. Homosexuality is not an “issue” at all. It’s not a hot-button “issue.” It’s not an “issue” that people fight over. It’s not an “it” at all. It’s not an “issue” at all.

This is about people. People.

Have we forgotten this? It seems to me that we just might have.

It’s easy to turn things into “issues.” But I think it’s dehumanizing. It’s easy to label people: liberal, conservative, Christian, or atheist. But I think labels are too often used to dismiss people entirely. Again, dehumanizing. It’s easy to make the topic of homosexuality some exegetical debate where people argue over ancient languages, texts, and cultural contexts. But I do not think this is an exegetical issue. I think this is about people.

It seems to me that many people don’t think this is about people or the implications of that. Therefore an entire community of people are dehumanized or turned into the “least of these.” Right now it seems in certain places (key word: certain. Of course this does not include all Christian communities) the options for gay Christians are either to be celibate or become straight and marry someone of the opposite sex.

Sometimes I think, what if this was demanded of me? What if, because I was straight, the Christian community said to me, Nathan you either have to be celibate forever or marry someone of the same sex?

What if I was forced to spend the rest of my life in celibacy because I was straight? One, it would suck. Two, I don’t think I have the gift of celibacy. And yes, I think celibacy is a gift for certain people. Three, it would suck. Four, I would probably have a hard time controlling my lust.

What if I was forced to marry someone of the same sex to whom I was not attracted? Again, it would probably suck. Although, I could possibly have a great relationship with emotional intimacy and could probably be physically intimate with another male. But I would not be fulfilled, it would feel awkward, and I would still dream of being with a woman instead.

And so my goal is not to debate the exegetical work, the theological implications, the above examples, or the decision in California. There’s too much of that already and frankly I’m getting tired of that too. Instead, I want to remind those people who forget easily (myself included) that this is about people.

Do we think about people before we make decisions? Do we remember that this is about people when we go to the voting polls? Do we remember that this is about people when we preach from a pulpit? Do we remember that this is about people when we have late night debates? Do we remember that this is about people when we read Scripture?

If not, we are guilty of dehumanizing people. And I might even be bold enough to say that dehumanizing people is a sin.

So today I am again reminded this is about people. Today people wept with joy because they are closer to finally being able to marry the person they deeply love. Today became a day of rejoicing. Today Facebook and Twitter exploded with people’s excitement over the decision in California. Today I am reminded that this is a small step for thousands of people.

And today I am reminded of my countless gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender friends. Today was a good day for them. Actually, today could be said to be a great day. And I stand with them. I rejoice with them. I shed tears of happiness because they shed tears of happiness.

And today I am reminded that God loves people. All people.

Forget Issues, Remember People

2010-08-06T11:57:00.002-05:00

I was asked to write a guest post for Andrew Marin's blog "Love is an Orientation." It turned out to be a reflection on the Prop 8 decision.

Please check it out here!

Observations with Blood Clots

2010-07-27T21:57:00.001-05:00

The night before I went to Chicago’s Pride Parade I broke my foot. I didn’t think it was broken so I stood on it for the entire day. Then I spent the next day walking on it some more. It turned purple and swelled to the size of a small dog.

A few weeks later this broken foot caused me to have three blood clots in my leg. I didn’t think they were blood clots, I thought they were strained muscles. The pain got so bad I stayed in bed for three days straight not able to walk. I’m not sure when the last time I’ve cried from pain- but I did with blood clots. For a week I had to give myself injections twice a day- meds that cost about $130 a day- really great for my wallet and deepening credit card debt. By the way, injecting yourself in the stomach with a syringe is creepy. It took me a day to man up and do it.

Turns out these blood clots then moved to my lungs. I ended being hospitalized for a few days and am now recovering on a couch, hoping and praying that my blood thins to the proper levels and all heals well. I’ve obviously had a lot of time to think during this time. So I thought I’d share some thoughts.

Today I watched an episode of Ellen. I’m not a fan of tv; not a fan at all actually. But today I looked at Ellen and realized she has really good style. So I’m now going to watch Ellen for my own fashion styles. She’s trendy and I think I’d look good in her clothes.

Through all of this medical stuff, I have been discouraged quite a bit. Who would have thought a broken foot would turn into a hospital stay for blood clots. I was looking forward to July and August. I was invited to go to PA for some training with Tony Campolo. I was going to spend a week in MN speaking to a group of high school students. Immediately after that I was going to speak at a conference in GA. I was hoping to visit NYC as well and follow up with some authors. However, all of that has now been cancelled. I thought I would be more bummed out than I am, however I guess my health truly does trump. It seems a bit selfish but I’m learning, in actuality, it’s not at all.

I was also deeply discouraged watching Jeopardy. I’m awful at that show, unless it’s the 5th grade edition of Jeopardy. That’s when I kick butt. The first question the other day was, “A cube has this many sides.” I screamed, “4!” My subtext said, “Man I’m brilliant.” Jeopardy answer said, “What is 6.” I’ve decided I hate Jeopardy.

Because of my new medication, for the next six months, I am no longer allowed to drink alcohol and have to shave using an electric razor. Both of these things seem truly unfair. Electric razors? Really? Do you not know that I am Italian and can grow a full beard within a matter of hours? I think it might be a long six months.

I’ve been sweating like a banshee lately.

It’s amazing how supportive some friends can be. I got a text message that was probably the most encouraging thing ever. It didn’t say anything profound. It was matter of fact actually. But it brightened my entire day. It gave me hope. It made me smile. I thanked her for encouraging me and then she said this, “That’s what community is all about…helping to carry one another.” I couldn’t have put it better. I want to be a part of that.

When I’m better, I want to be an encouragement to others. I want to be able to visit people in the hospital (the visitors I had during my stay made the entire time). I want to give people a phone call (a gentleman I barely know called today, asked how I was doing and prayed for me). I want to give people hope, even if through a text message. It’s amazing how lonely and depressing being sick can be. Too many times before I’ve heard of friends being hospitalized and thought, “oh they’ll be fine,” or “well, grin and bear it.” What a douche bag I am. It’s made me realize how selfish I am most days. I’m hoping that can change.

Oh, and I had a CT scan. They inject iodine into your body. That stuff makes you feel like you’re burning from the inside out! No joke. It makes your mouth taste like your sucking on your favorite handful of pennies, it makes your loins feel as if you just released your entire bladder and bowels, and for a minute, you think you might vomit up a pile of liquid nickel.

But about a minute later all that passes and you feel fine.

So those have been my thoughts for the night.
Here’s to helping carry one another.
I want to be a part of that.

Summer Books

2010-07-15T15:48:00.008-05:00

I thought I'd share the books that are on my "must-read" list for the summer. My goals seem to be set a bit high. I am also writing a thesis so much of these "must-reads" are "have-to-for-a-thesis-reads," I'm sure you'll see the pattern. I would not recommend all of these books. Some I loved. Some made me cringe. But I love written words, which is odd since I despised all things reading and writing growing up. I guess my taste buds have changed.

The books I have read so far this summer:

M. Waltz, Lasting Impressions
M. Waltz, First Impressions
R. Gagnon, Homosexuality and the Bible
R. Gagnon, The Bible and Homosexual Practice
W. Webb, Slaves, Women & Homosexuals
S. Grenz, Welcoming but not Affirming
A. Sullivan, Virtually Normal
R. Scroggs, New Testament and Homosexuality

Not pictured: D. Helminiak, What the Bible Really Says About Homosexuality

The books I am currently reading:

NT Wright, After You Believe
H. Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird (Finished)
J. Derfner, Swish: My Quest to Become the Gayest Person Ever and What Ended Up Happening Instead. (This might be the funniest book I have ever read. I literally was laughing out loud during the first paragraph! My roommate thought it was silly how loud I was laughing)

The books I plan to read by the end of the summer (yes City of God is a LONG shot. That thing is a beast):

J. Rogers, Jesus, the Bible, and Homosexuality
P. Chapman, Thou Shalt Not Love
R. Kuehne, Sex and the iWorld
J. Miner, The Children are Free
M. Piazza, Gay by God
M. Nussbaum, From Disgust to Humanity
B. Russell, Why I am Not a Christian
Augustine, City of God

The books I would like to read on a yearly basis (I just really enjoy them):

D. Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship
CS Lewis, Mere Christianity
B. Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel

Any other "must-reads" out there?

Everyone Seems to Have a Voice.

2010-07-12T14:26:00.006-05:00

So, here’s something surprising: my blog exploded last week. Tim Schraeder’s blog post had more than 150,000 views. It was a bit scary for me. I might have stressed out about it and chewed my fingernails raw. Prior to this I’d write stories up here that only my Dad and perhaps my friend Andrew or MK read. Now I found out that the lovely and beautiful Kristen Chenoweth has read my words. Gulp!

Someone emailed me saying that my post was reposted over 10,181 times on tumblr. I don't even know what that means! It sounds like a lot of something though. It seems to me, however, that people are spelling “tumbler” incorrectly.

Perhaps I’m ten years behind the time, but I started looking up on all these ‘blogs.’ I made one a while back to have a place for all my silly stories and thoughts. Yet there are blogs for everything! Blogs are everywhere! “Tumbler” is not simply a glass or an acrobat doing somersaults. Oh no!

They are everywhere. It seems to me that everyone has a voice. Everyone has an audience. Everyone has a response to something or someone else.

All this got me thinking. I wonder who is listening. I wonder who doesn't have a voice. I wonder if anyone cares. Or are we all too worried about our own voice? Are we all too concerned about our own opinions, thoughts, and potential book deals?

I'm reminded of the first word of the Shema; the prayer that the Israelites and Jews to this day chant. Hear. "Hear o Israel, the LORD our God, the LORD is one."

I’m reminded of the story of Jesus who was anointed by a prostitute in a Pharisee’s home. Talking to his disciples the text says, “Then Jesus turned toward the woman and said to Peter, ‘Do you see this woman?’” I love that imagery: turning to the woman, but speaking to Peter.

I want to hear. I want to see. And I want what I hear and see to influence me deeply. I want to be changed by what I hear and see.

Sure I love speaking. It’s true that I love telling stories. I love sharing tales on this silly thing they call a blog.

But I don’t want to be just another voice, another megaphone, or another man on a soapbox.

I need to do more hearing. I need to do more seeing. I cannot speak until I do these two things first.

And only after that can I likewise go and do. Only after hearing and seeing can I act. Only after being changed by what I have listened to and what I have witnessed can I have a voice.

Who am I not seeing? Who am I not hearing? How am I missing out because I’m too busy speaking?

And yet the hypocrisy of it all is here I am writing this on a blog. Forgive me.

So, here’s to becoming one who hears,
Here’s to becoming one who sees,
And here’s to being transformed by those things so that I may go and do.

Tristan's Response: A Man in His Underwear Hugged Christians

2010-07-06T09:56:00.001-05:00

As some of you may know, Tristan was the “man in his underwear” and we have been in contact over the last week. Some people have commented that the real praise should go to him, since he was the one who reached out and hugged the Christian community. I couldn’t agree more. I thought it would be good to get a bit more of his story and response to the Pride Parade so I emailed him some questions to which he has responded.

For the last seven years, Tristan has been running his own computer consulting company called Tech Direct 2 U in Joliet, Illinois. As it turns out, Tristan was not even supposed to be a part of the parade this year, but was invited to join in last minute. I asked him about why he loves Pride, his reactions to seeing us apologize, his personal religious experience and what he would say to the Christian community. The following is his response:

“The openness and love that is shared on Pride Day is overwhelming and amazing to me. The fact that so many people who have but one thing in common can come together in such a united way and show love for one another is just mind blowing. I noticed your shirts and was quite curious as to what you were all sorry about on such a celebratory day. When I read your signs, I must admit that I was taken aback by what they said. I have been judged and persecuted as a person and as a community for so long by so-called "Catholics" and "Christians". All of whom I have talked to till I was blue in the face. I have been a victim of a hate crime and brutalized by four men in a bathroom in Rockdale, Illinois. People have tried to make me feel as though I am less than others because of who I am. Just your signs alone made my entire Pride even more worth it for me. I was overcome with that warm, loving feeling from the crowd of people that you were with. The Marin Foundation along with its acceptance and ability to embrace gay men and women is why I came over to share an embrace with all of you. I hope that the world learns to grow and love from experiences and acts of kindness such as the one you exhibited on Pride 2010!

As for religious experiences, I was raised Catholic. I was a big part of my church growing up. I was an altar boy who went to church sometimes more than once a week. I was enthralled with the bible and "the word of God". I then read the bible cover to cover and saw so much hate, arrogance, and oppression, so I started to ask questions. The blatant disregard for human life and especially for women was just appalling to me. The more answers I received from my priest and other people of religion just became too much for me. So then, around age 16, I "lost my faith." I searched for a couple of years and looked into other beliefs just to come to the same conclusion. I practiced Zen Buddhism for a few years and started reading more into the universe and science. I then realized that I was just an Atheist and have been an Atheist for over ten years now. I feel that people have the right to their own beliefs and their own lives, and should do whatever is in their power to be happy in this life.

If I could say anything to the Christian community, I would say 75% need to heed their own warnings and advice. Please learn to love as much as you have been taught to love. Realize that hate begets hate and that love (no matter in what form) is love! What are most of you so afraid of? To the other 25% of you that have realized this, I applaud you! PLEASE keep up the good work and spread your word and your love as far as you can. You truly are your God’s people! One day I hope that this world will listen to John Lennon's song "Imagine" and truly understand that this is what our future generations need! I love you and wish the best for you and the people of The Marin Foundation! Thank you so very much for the kindness and understanding that you have been so graceful to share!”

Speechless.

2010-07-01T17:06:00.001-05:00

I am utterly speechless by the all that is going on with our whole “I’m Sorry” campaign from Chicago’s Pride. I don’t think any of us thought we would get such a response. I’ve been getting emails and comments from people all over the world (UK, Australia, Costa Rica, Trinidad and Tobago) who are gay, straight, bisexual, intersex, celibate, Christian, Atheist, Mormon, and Jewish. At times your comments have brought me to tears. I need to say thank you! Thank you for your comments, your emails, and your stories. I am blown away. I am honestly thinking of printing them out and keeping them so that on bad days I can be encouraged.

I know there are skeptics out there. I know there are people who think we did this to get the fame. I know there are people who have been so burnt by Christians that to even begin to trust a group of us seems ridiculous. I know there are people who want to know our theological beliefs or our political ones. I know there are people who have blogged that our event was unimpressive, thinking we are a group of Christians who will eventually pull the wool over their eyes.

And since most of you don’t know me personally, your skepticism and distrust are well warranted. And since most of you don’t know me, let me say that I am simply trying. I am trying my best to embody what I believe. I am trying to take what I believe to be true and live that out in tangible ways. I’m not a skilled blogger or great theologian.

I’m trying. I hope you can extend me grace.

I’m committed.

Updates: Hugging a Man in His Underwear

2010-06-30T14:45:00.018-05:00

For a blog that usually has readers that include my Dad and a couple of friends, I am humbled and honored by the responses I have received from my post I Hugged a Man in His Underwear. The buzz is exciting! I have received emails from people all over the States, the UK, Australia, and even Trinidad & Tobago, saying how powerful and influential the story with Tristan and the "I'm Sorry" Campaign is. It's amazing that a story can generate tears from numerous people and begin the process of reconciliation.

A couple of updates for you all.

First off, after all the buzz on facebook and twitter, Tristan (the man in his underwear) actually commented on the blog and we have been in email contact over the last couple days. We're hoping to meet up for coffee sometime soon. Small world!

If you haven't read my blog post, please do. Make sure you check out some of the comments. Amazing honesty and humility seen there. Stories of pain and rejection; stories of joy and acceptance.

Check out Tim Schraeder's (@timschraeder) write up about our Pride event called A Different Kind of Christian Demonstration at Gay Pride. Rachel Held Evans (@rachelheldevans) also posted a link on her website about this blog called "Apricots, Underwear, and Scenes of Reconciliation." If you know of others who are blogging about this, let me know. Dan Savage also wrote a piece about this all for Slog. Finally, check out Nicole Wick's (@nicolewick) blog post at NicoleWick.com

Andrew Marin, Kevin Harris, and I at The Marin Foundation have gotten tons of requests for an "I'm Sorry" shirt. For those interested in buying one, we now have that available. 100% of the proceeds for these shirts will go back to The Marin Foundation to support our "I'm Sorry" Campaign. You can buy a shirt here. Also, if you're interested in the genesis of this and the foundation, check out Andrew Marin's Love is an Orientation: Elevating the Conversation with the Gay Community. You can purchase a copy here. All proceeds go back to the foundation.

My buddy Darren (@heyDarren), who was with us at the Chicago Pride Parade, made a fun and short video of our time there. Check it out!

Finally, I just wanted to say thank you! Thank you for reading! Thank you for sharing my story with others! Thank you for your emails and experiences. Thank you for your honesty! Thank you for your comments! Thank you for keeping your comment respectful rather than fighting about theology (that's not what I want to do here).

Keep Loving! Keep Apologizing! Keep Reconciling!

I Hugged a Man in His Underwear. And I am Proud.

2010-06-28T12:02:00.011-05:00

I hugged a man in his underwear. I think Jesus would have too.

I spent the day at Chicago’s Pride Parade. Some friends and I, with The Marin Foundation, wore shirts with “I’m Sorry” written on it. We had signs that said, “I’m sorry that Christians judge you,” “I’m sorry the way churches have treated you,” “I used to be a bible-banging homophobe, sorry.” We wanted to be an alternative Christian voice from the protestors that were there speaking hate into megaphones.

What I loved most about the day is when people “got it.” I loved watching people’s faces as they saw our shirts, read the signs, and looked back at us. Responses were incredible. Some people blew us kisses, some hugged us, some screamed thank you. A couple ladies walked up and said we were the best thing they had seen all day. I wish I had counted how many people hugged me. One guy in particular softly said, “Well, I forgive you.”

Watching people recognize our apology brought me to tears many times. It was reconciliation personified.

My favorite though was a gentleman who was dancing on a float. He was dressed solely in white underwear and had a pack of abs like no one else. As he was dancing on the float, he noticed us and jokingly yelled, “What are you sorry for? It’s pride!” I pointed to our signs and watched him read them.

Then it clicked.

Then he got it.

He stopped dancing. He looked at all of us standing there. A look of utter seriousness came across his face. And as the float passed us he jumped off of it and ran towards us. In all his sweaty beautiful abs of steal, he hugged me and whispered, “thank you.”

Before I had even let go, another guy ran up to me, kissed me on the cheek, and gave me the biggest bear hug ever. I almost had the wind knocked out of me; it was one of those hugs.

This is why I do what I do. This is why I will continue to do what I do. Reconciliation was personified.

I think a lot of people would stop at the whole “man in his underwear dancing” part. That seems to be the most controversial. It’s what makes the evening news. It’s the stereotype most people have in their minds about Pride.

Sadly, most Christians want to run from such a sight rather than engage it. Most Christian won't even learn if that person dancing in his underwear has a name. Well, he does. His name is Tristan.

However, I think Jesus would have hugged him too. It’s exactly what I read throughout scripture: Jesus hanging out with people that religious people would flee from. Correlation between then and now? I think so.

Acceptance is one thing. Reconciliation is another. Sure at Pride, everyone is accepted (except perhaps the protestors). There are churches that say they accept all. There are business that say the accept everyone. But acceptance isn’t enough. Reconciliation is.

But there isn’t always reconciliation. And when there isn’t reconciliation, there isn’t full acceptance. Reconciliation is more painful; it’s more difficult. Reconciliation forces one to remember the wrongs committed and relive constant pain. Yet it’s more powerful and transformational because two parties that should not be together and have every right to hate one another come together for the good of one another, for forgiveness, reconciliation, unity.

What I saw and experienced at Pride 2010 was the beginning of reconciliation. It was in the shocked faces of gay men and women who did not ever think Christians would apologize to them.

What I saw and experienced at Pride 2010 was the personification of reconciliation. It was in the hugs and kisses I received, in the “thank you’s” and waves, in the smiles and kisses blown.

I hugged a man in his underwear. I hugged him tightly. And I am proud.

Here's the embrace.

Photo Credit: Michelle at maladjustedmedia.com

Interviewed for a Documentary

2010-06-28T11:36:00.002-05:00

Today I was interviewed by two great guys for a new documentary entitled, Finding Jesus in America. They interviewed the staff at The Marin Foundation about our work in Chicago as well as our time at the Pride Parade. Also, part of our interview will be used for a special on CBN's the 700 Club. Crazy!

Check out the trailer and make sure you see the movie!

Finding Jesus in America from Danny McCusker on Vimeo.

I Apologized at Pride Parade 2010

2010-06-28T11:24:00.003-05:00

Here is a picture of what we did yesterday. We were interviewed by CBS as well as a radio program. I was hugged and kissed by more people than I can count. It brought tears to some people, smiles to others, thank you's from others. People blew us kisses. People simply said thank you. One person hugged us and said, "I forgive you."

I'm writing a longer post to explain more.

Diametrically Opposed Beliefs and a Senile God?

2010-06-17T10:41:00.004-05:00

The following passage was recently shared with me. It's by Eugene Peterson, the translator of the Message version of the Bible. Read and think:

"Our age had developed a loose geniality about what people say they believe. We are especially tolerant in matters of religion. But much of the vaunted tolerance is only indifference. We don't care because we don't think it matters. My tolerance disappears quickly if a person's belief interferes with my life. I am not tolerant of persons who believe that they have as much right to my possessions as I do and proceed to help themselves. I am not tolerant of businesses that believe their only obligation is to make a profit and than pollute our environment and deliver poorly made products in the process. And John [writing in 1 John 2] is not tolerant when people he loves are deceived about God, because he knows that such lies will reduce their lives, impair the vitality of their spirits, imprison them in old guilt, and cripple them with anxieties and fears. That is John's position: a lie about God is a lie about life, and he will not have it. Nothing counts more in the way we live than what we believe about God. A failure to get it right in our minds becomes a failure to get it right in our lives. A wrong idea of God translates into sloppiness and cowardice, fearful minds and sickly emotions. One of the wickedest things we can do is tell people that God is an angry tyrant, because the person who believes it will defensively avoid him if they can. It is equally wicked to tell others that God is a senile grandfather. The person who believes it will live carelessly and trivially with no sense of transcendent purpose. It is wicked to tell a person a lie about God because, if we come to believe the wrong things about God, we will think wrong things about ourselves, and we will live meanly or badly. Telling a person a lie about God distorts reality, perverts life and damages all the processes of living."

I love the part about the wickedness behind telling someone God is a wrathful tyrant or a senile grandfather. I've heard so many Christians describe God in that way, yet the more I read the texts about God, the more I agree with Eugene Peterson.

After reading this, I am reminded what a friend told me the other night. When people disagree with us personally, we should be humble, take the criticism, and understand they just might be right about us. When people disagree about the essence of God, however, we should be firm and speak truth in love, defending what we read in scripture, countering any lies about God (as stated above).

Yet most of the time we flip this around! People disagree with us and we get all pissy and defensive, 'oh, that's not true, I'm not like that, whatever- no you whatever.' Meanwhile, people disagree with the essence of God's character and we become cowards and say, 'hmm, yeah maybe, I dunno.'

I'm not purporting that we become these ridiculously defensive men and women arguing with people about God. Or that we become people who are so arrogant in our thoughts about God that we belittle the person to whom we are talking. Or that we reject those who don't believe what we believe. Or that we cocoon ourselves so that the only circle of friends we have are other Christians. That doesn't work. Scripture opposes all of that.

What I am saying is that we embody our apologetic, we know and understand the Bible that we profess to believe in so deeply that we can respond intelligently, we engage in dialogue with others, and yet we're humble enough to be constant learners; even if that means learning about life and faith from someone who diametrically opposes our own belief system.

I have a friend who is a staunch atheist, perhaps he labels himself agnostic, and we do not agree on much when it comes to religion or theology. We became great friends while working on some horrible theatre (not sure it could even be labeled such). But I tell you what, because I respect this man so much for his bold and intelligent beliefs and because he respects me for the same reasons, I have learned more about my own beliefs from him than I have from some pastors or Christians.

Diametrically opposed to my faith, but teaching me about faith.
That's a friendship I cherish.

Here's to hoping I can be such a friend to others.

A Shame-Free Brick in the Face

2010-06-14T16:09:00.003-05:00

You know what always humbles me? When people share their experiences, thoughts or stories and the next thing I know it hits me in the face like a brick. Thus I’m left with a black eye…or three. That happened the other night.

At a community gather I attended we were discussing our feelings about the upcoming annual Pride Parade in Chicago. The topic of shame came up. The normative experience for the LGBT community is one of shame and an often blatant shunning from the broader Christian community. It’s a fact upon most of us could humbly, or shamefully, agree.

Yet the brick that gave me three black eyes was a comment from a gentleman about his feelings toward Pride. He said, “At Pride I feel at home and shame-free. I wish the church was a place where I could feel shame-free.” And…brick to the face.

This came from a man who was raised in the church, who spent most of his life in the church, who was married in the church, who wants to go to seminary, who now identifies as gay and yet feels more at home at the Pride parade than at a church.

Then he went on to explain how Jesus had no shame. Although Jesus was a teacher, he became a slave and washed his disciples’ feet (something reserved for the least in society). No shame. Or that after emptying himself, Jesus took the nature of a servant and was obedient even to death on a cross. No shame. Or that Adam while in the presence of God walked around naked. No shame. Or that the Israelites who followed God’s law rather than cultural laws in order to be holy. No shame. We could talk about Paul, who had no shame to be persecuted for the church. Romans 1, often cited as the clobber passage about homosexuality, discusses how we should not be ashamed of the Gospel for it’s the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes. No shame. We could also bring up the fact that love covers a multitude of sin, casts out fears and thus instills in us deep courage. No shame.

The Christian community needs to wake up and be a place that has no shame. A place that everyone can come as they are…no really, as they are. Fully broken yet fully cherished. Fully afraid yet fully embraced. Fully hurt yet fully healed. Fully skeptical yet fully accepted. Fully seen as beloved. Fully shame-free.

A shame-free church. I’d go to one of those.

A shame-free community. I'd be a part of that.

Pinching Pennies on Floor Mats and Gas

2010-06-03T16:35:00.000-05:00

Late last night as I was driving home, I realized I needed to fill up my tank with gas. I drove past a station that had regular for only $3.09. I was stoked, that was cheap (mind you I’m in the city). But I drove by it, couldn’t turn in time. So I ended up going to a station right by my apartment. There, regular unleaded was $3.19. By the time I realized the price, I was already pumping the gas. But I was pissed! 10¢ more, I thought! What a rip off. I hate that. Stupid gas being expensive, grr.

Then I realized that my tank only fits 9.5 gallons. Then the mathematician in me took over. 10¢ plus 9.5 gallons equals…umm…wait, it equals 9.50 or .95. Yes, .95. Thus it would cost me a whopping 95¢ more. I relaxed a bit.

It’s funny that most of us are such cheapskates when it comes to a gallon of gasoline. It’s pennies we fight over really.

When furnishing my apartment, I ended up buying $1,200 worth of furniture from Ikea. On the way to the checkout counter, I was overwhelmed by how much money I was about to spend. So looking through all my soon to be $1,200 apartment I thought, “Hmm this floor mat is something I don’t really need. I’ll put it back.” My sister looked at me and said, “Nathan, the floor mat is 99¢. Your spending $1,200, what is another 99¢?”

She had a good point.

I bought that floor mat.

Readers, Pastors, Eating.

2010-05-27T18:59:00.002-05:00

To you my reader(s?):

I do not think I have some sensational blog that has thousands of followers. Actually, I know I don't. To be honest, I’m pretty sure I can count the people who read my blog on one hand. I find it a bit narcissistic to have a blog. I also find it to be a dangerous platform for wrongly discerned venting. I also find it oddly amusing that people, let alone strangers, may be interested in my words.

And for that I must say thanks to those of you who read this. So, thanks...Dad. (He’s the only one I know who consistently reads and is actually excited about it. We, at times, have discussions about my posts. Funny) In the silliness that is words and blogs, I hope that in some way mine makes you smile, makes you think, or affirms your thoughts that I’m a dork; a cute one at least.

---
Pastor a Pastor?

Today a pastor said this to me: “I need to be pastored. Can you pastor me today?” That is a terrifyingly humbling thing to hear. I’m just out of seminary. Who says I’m equipped to do that? Regardless, it’s a complete honor; to pastor one who pastors you. That’s a relationship I love having.

---
Eating alone, I do silly things.

Today while I was eating lunch, I realized I do silly things. I forget all manners when I eat alone. Today I basically shoved a bagel into my mouth in perhaps four bites and then used the largest napkin ever to wipe my entire face. Who am I?

So here’s to you, someone who actually cares what I have to say,
Here’s to a pastor who gives nonstop,
And here’s to slowing down to eat like a human rather than a bear.
Cheers.

Happenings

2010-05-24T16:48:00.009-05:00

It is officially summer 2010 and things have been happening. I thought I’d share a few of them.

I’ll begin by saying I just finished watching the final episode of Lost. I will not give away anything. However, I will say that I am in a bit of a sappy mood after watching it, which may effect what sappiness I write below. It choked me up a couple times, a tear or two may have been produced, and I feel as if I now need a nap.

I’ve been in the library a lot lately. Although I have completed all the academic requirements for my MDiv from North Park Seminary, I have decided to write a thesis. It will be on the Evangelical Covenant Church and homosexuality. Most days are spent reading and writing since I have the time- look at me being productive. Here’s my abstract:

I also realized while wandering the library that I judge books by their covers. I'm actually really good at it. If it was a job, I'd be hired in a heartbeat. Then I realized that not only do I judge books by their covers, but people too. Sorry about that.

I was talking to a friend the other day about my accomplishment of finishing a master’s. I don’t know if I feel accomplished. She said I should really reflect over my time here. I’m a verbal processor so I don’t think I’ve done too much processing yet. However, I wonder if it’s been an overall good experience for me. Some days, I’m not sure that it has been. I think I’ll remember all the struggles and hardship rather than the joys. I’m a bit perplexed what the joys would be. Perhaps I’ve been transformed in some way, but I have yet to see how. Some doors have opened for me; a lot of others have closed. I think I might be a bit smarter, although I still have to use spell-check and a thesaurus like it’s my job. I’m pretty sure I have forgotten 98% of what I have learned in my classes. I continue to feel out of my element, which makes me wonder what my element is. I continue to grieve my acting career. I feel I am now doing something bigger than myself, but I still miss acting- to this day, the stage is where I feel at home. Perhaps seminary has been a time where I feel homeless even though I’m closer to home than I ever was while acting.

I prayed the other day that I would be broken. Not physically mind you but that I would be broken. That I would hurt with those who hurt, that I would weep with those who are weeping, that I would ache because of injustices, that I would be broken so all that matters to me is God. Yet to be honest, I find that a scary prayer and wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t answered. For if it was, I think my life would have to look a bit different and my heart would ache much more than it now does. I prefer being in control and that prayer being answered might just hinder that.

My little sister graduated from college the other day. I was so happy. I screamed when they called her name and then I even cussed I was so excited! I don’t often cuss but that occasion was worth it. My sis has a BFA, and I’m so (insert cuss) happy and (insert cuss) proud to be her older (insert cuss) brother!! Woo.

Oh, the whole Claire/Charley scene…killed me. I could tear up just thinking about it.

Wayne the Anti-Gay Activist

2010-04-29T18:00:00.000-05:00

I met Wayne the other day. He’s an anti-gay activist. He has a warm handshake and soft hand. He’s a bit quirky, able to laugh at himself, and is surprisingly gracious. I think he might be an alright guy. No, I’m not being sarcastic. And I know what you’re thinking, so let me explain.

Wayne is the creator of HOME (Heterosexuals Organized for a Moral Environment). Here are his beliefs about homosexuality. I am strictly stating what he told me. He thinks homosexuality is immoral for the following reasons: (1) Health reasons, such as STDs, and HIV/AIDS. (2) Financial reasons, such as paying for the healthcare of those with health issues. (3) Psychology, homosexuality is a mental disorder of which we are all disordered. (4) Media Censorship, the media has censored HOME’s viewpoint from educating the population.

I will not say anymore about Wayne’s beliefs. I will not argue against or for anything he says. I am choosing not to belittle him or his organization. Debating his beliefs are not my point here. That does not lead to anything constructive.

Recently Wayne and his friend John came to North Park University to distribute their flyers, which stated some of the above beliefs, about their organization. Needless to say, this caused a bit of a hoopla among the students. It became a bit of a scene.

Yet the day following this incident, Wayne was invited to attend the Queer and Allies meeting at NPU. In this setting, Wayne was given a place to thoroughly explain his stance while NPU students were able to state their feelings about the event.

At one point, students were asked to explain their initial response to the event in one word. The following were some of the answers: sad, disrupted, disappointed, disgusted, angry, violated, uncomfortable, and blindsided.

One student asked Wayne if he had any gay or lesbian friends. He responded with a shake of his head. Then Wayne mentioned that during college he had a “homosexual” friend but “because the differences were so intractable, [they] grew apart.” Sad. To be honest, it appeared Wayne may have been remorseful while saying this. I hope.

And yet as I sat listening, getting to know Wayne a bit, I thought about my initial reaction to the event. Numerous students called me asking to talk with the protestors in hopes of mediating the situation or bringing some sense to it. On my walk over to them I had the thought, “Well, here we go again. Time to talk these ignorant protestors.” I thought that since I am almost done with graduate school, work for a non-profit that works with the LGBT community, and my passion for the subject, I was well equipped for dialogue; probably more than Wayne and John. Arrogant I know. And I did cordially talk with them, trying to get straight answers to why they were passing out their flyers.

Yet sitting just a few feet from Wayne at the meeting, I realized how I had demonized and dehumanized him. I spend a lot of time venting about how people demonize and dehumanize the LGBT community. And yet here I was demonizing those who demonize others. Thus I became exactly that which I oppose. So I apologized to Wayne that evening. I told him that because I am a Christian I think demonizing any person is wrong. Afterward he shook my hand, thanked me, and even said I didn’t have to apologize. At that moment I realized Wayne had a soft hand (a bit odd I know) and really straight hair and some skin imperfections on his nose. At that moment I realized… Wayne was a human, not an ignorant homophobe as I wanted to assume.

Because I believe in the importance of the re-humanization of the LGBT community, I can no longer dehumanize those who demonize the LGBT community. For when I do, I become them. When I demonize those who hold “God hates fags” signs, I in effect become the same as them. Labeling others is just an excuse to dismiss them. That is hurtful. To be honest, loving those who demonize others does not seem like justice to me. Justice would be kick them in the throat! And many would agree that that is justice. But it only perpetuates hate. And perhaps I need to redefine what justice looks like. It just might be reconciliation; the giving and receiving of forgiveness.

So to all those people I want to call ignorant douche bags, I will do my best not to do so. Instead, I apologize to you. I apologize that I have called you harsh names and wanted to punch you in the face rather than love you. I’m sorry that I allow my emotions to get so out of control that I demonize you and spew hate towards you. I’m sorry that I belittle your beliefs, think they are ignorant or unwarranted thus dismissing you entirely. I’m sorry that at times I think how great it would be see you punished for the hurt you have caused to many of my friends. It is true that I probably disagree with you, but that doesn’t mean I should be spitting upon you.

As a Christian I find those actions unacceptable. My standards include not demonizing anyone, extending grace and mercy to others because endless grace and mercy has been extended to me, forgiving the unforgiveable, loving the unlovable, and remembering all people are precious in God’s eyes. I’m even called to love those who call my loved ones “faggots.” At times I don’t want to, but I’ll try; I believe in the power of reconciliation. So Wayne and others, even though I may not have said anything to you personally, in my mind I have dehumanized, demonized, and dismissed you.

And for that I apologize.

Some Recent Observations and Thoughts

2010-04-22T15:28:00.004-05:00

-I tried to kill a fly the other day. The only fly-killing instrument I could find was a receipt. So I tried to smash the fly with the receipt. It did not work. The fly lived. The receipt was recycled.

-I saw a girl at the gym the other day. She ran on the treadmill for over 30 minutes. The entire time she was on the phone. I had these thoughts: How can she have the breath to do that? Is the person on the other line running too? How sweaty is that phone going to get? Is it really necessary to have a phone call while running? Can't you put away technology for a little while? I wish I had her digits, I'd call her.

-I smelled the back of my hand the other day and there seemed to be one some area that smelled like sweaty underarm. The rest of my hand smelled fine. It was a bit gross. So I washed it. Crisis diverted.

-Sometimes I wish people wore more clothing. There are certain things (fleshly things) that clothing does a good job of hiding. Please take note.

-Sometimes I watch people who think they're really cool. You know the type? They have a certain walk, a certain facial expression, or putting on airs. I think, why are you trying so hard to be 'cool'? Those people kind of make me laugh. I want to tell them to stop trying so hard and relax. But then again, I probably am such a person.

-I learned that one of the Kings of Thailand was the 69th son of his family. Yes you read that right. He was the 69th son! His father had three wives who were also his half sisters. (eek!) That's a lot of kids. That's a lot of birthing. That's a lot of...well...

Mercy, Justice, and the LGBT Community Interview

2010-04-15T16:19:00.003-05:00

Later this summer I will be speaking at the Micah 6:8 Conference in Chicago June 4-5. I was just interviewed by Tim Schraeder of Park Community Church about mercy, justice, Jennifer Knapp coming out, and what the Christian community can do to right wrongs in relation to the LGBT community.

Check out there interview here!

Being Cured by Metrosexuality

2010-04-13T18:11:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was not only my birthday (364 days until I'm 30...eek) but also involved one of the most metrosexual things I have ever done. Are you ready?

I had my first ever mani/pedi. (manicure and pedicure for those who don't know the lingo)

At 5:20pm my roommates informed me I had ten minutes to get to the "Sir Spa" for my birthday present. Ooh, I thought.

There at the Sir Spa, I met Anastasia. For the next hour, this beautiful Bulgarian rubbed, cleaned, trimmed, filed, and poured some loving on my hands and feet.

How do they look you ask?

My feet look lovely. Even Anastasia said I had nice feet.

My fingernails?

Well I bite my nails like it's my job. So they still look bitten. But, they have a nice clear gloss on them. It's a manly gloss mind you. But it makes biting my nails cumbersome. Actually, Anastasia told me it would taste really gross. She also said that biting nails was disgusting and couldn't believe that I would touch something, let's say something that is gross, and then put that finger in my mouth and chew on it. She mentioned I could die from it as well as that my fingers could get infected. Dramatic yes, but I think she's got a point.

So far today, no biting. Metrosexuality just might cure my horrible habit.

I hope Anastasia is proud.

Hypocritical Critical Christian am I

2010-03-22T21:43:00.006-05:00

I came across this video on Carlos Whittaker's ragamuffinsoul.com. Rumor is this guy, Chris Tse, stood in front of a non-Christian audience and performed this spoken word piece. He won first place for it.

Warning for those with sensitive ears- he drops the f-bomb a couple times.

I watched this seven times in a row before posting this. I've read all of the comments on youtube and some other sites. Some people seem upset that a Christian dropped the f-bomb. Others said he is apologizing for Christian actions rather than being a Christian. Others said they are proud to be Christians and don't need to apologize. Some said they were in tears, or speechless, or amazed even. One comment said it was beautiful and true.

Do I agree with everything he says? I'm not sure. Do I disagree with what he says? I don't think so. I could exegete his piece or research his Biblical references. I could talk about all the theological implications of such a piece. But I won't.

What gets me is his authenticity. His honesty. His passion. His willingness to do what most Christians don't do. His apologies and confessions are the first step. A step that is needed for reconciliation.

Yes, I am proud to be a Christian. Yet like him, I am at times sorry. But I want to be someone who is honest enough to say I am a "weak hypocritical critical Christian" who is trying to figure out what I call faith. At times instead of "loving I jump to hatred, mouth opened and tongue preaching, eyes opened but not seeing you're the same as me."

And I too want to be someone who waits at the back door to hug people while they leave.

And so I too confess I am a Christian.
I will likewise go and do!

Love. Period. No Conjunction.

2010-03-12T18:55:00.003-06:00

A friend recently sent this picture to me. She thought I would be interested in seeing it. She was right. I like this picture. A lot. The picture is an ad campaign for a new Methodist church downtown Chicago. If you can't see it, the sign says, "We love gay people. We love straight people." It's one of a handful of signs that say similar dichotomies: we love people who... wear tattoos/suits; ...are doubters/believers; Sox fans/Cubs fans; Democrats/Republicans.

I don't think these words are said enough by many Christians. Most often, these words are often followed by a conjunction of some sort: "but we hate their sin," or "but we just don't like what they do." Which, if translated, means: "we don't love gays at all."

I sometimes wonder why we do this.

Yet these sentences are bold. They don't have any conjunctions. They have periods. I like that.

I don't know the theology behind this new church, but I will say I think they work off the model I call "Belong, Believe, Behave." I think the Church should be a place where you Belong first, regardless of what you may or may not believe. A place where you feel completely welcomed to come as you are and experience close relationships with others. Through this you learn about Jesus, God, Christian theology, etc. Then you Believe. And through Believe in God, and only after, transformation occurs or Behavior often changes.

If the church does not work in this order, it simply becomes full of legalism, moralism and graceless behavior modification.

But more of us need to say we love without the use of the conjunction "but".
We need more periods.
We need to stop loving with strings attached. Which, as I have blogged about before, is not loving at all. (See it here)

I love gay people. Period.

But that sentence needs some editing. I love people. Period.

Or maybe I should just say, I love. Period.

Or rather, I should stop saying I love people and actually go do it; love people.

I love my gay friend "Bob" not because he is gay, but because he is Bob.
I love my straight friend "Bob" not because he is straight, but because he is Bob. (this is a different Bob than the first Bob who happens to be gay)
I love my female friend "Bob" not because she is a she, but because she is Bob. (She's fine being called Bob)
I love Uncle "Bob" not solely because he is my family member, but because he is Bob.

It's true, I love my numerous gay friends not because they are gay but because they are my friends. I don't love them any less because they are gay either. Friendship and love is never contingent upon one's sexuality. Or one's choice of clothing, or one's habits, or one's accumulation of wealth, or any other label we put on people. And unfortunately, it often is.

Too often we put labels on people in order to dismiss them. Thus we demonize and dehumanize.

When we put aside labels and see humanity, I think loving people becomes easier. And loving forces us to deny easy labeling, it covers a multitude of wrongdoings, it forces us to stop demonizing and start re-humanizing.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

The greatest of these is Love.

Enabling Others to Breathe

2010-02-26T11:58:00.001-06:00

I want to enable people to breathe. That is my new life goal.

At the church I go to in Chicago the pastor and I started a bible study for those who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender. We’ve had a couple of great meetings. We’re studying the book of 1 John. We come as we are. And I love every minute of it. Already I know I will love these new friends. I feel honored and humbled to be there.

During our first meeting a gentleman said he was on this journey, looking for a place where he could be himself and breathe. After going from church to church, getting shunned because of his sexuality, he got tired of not being allowed to breathe. He said towards the end of the meeting, “I feel this is a place where I can belong and be me, where I can finally breathe.”

All we did was open a home and say come as you are; we’re studying the Bible. It seems pretty simply. This is what I think Jesus did.

So, this is what I want to do.

It feels so good to breathe.

I want to enable others to breathe.

Asking for Help.

2010-02-26T11:25:00.003-06:00

I don’t like asking for help. Just thought you should know. I’ll ask for directions though, no qualms about it. As a man, I pride myself on that one. But other help, such as personal help, I don’t often do.

Maybe it was the way I was raised. “Grin and bear it” was an often quoted sentence in my household. So I did. So I still do. Most likely, I still will. And thus I have become a bit laissez faire in life. I don’t think it’s a fault all the time, just a personality quirk.

But now I need to start asking for help. I don’t know where else to turn. No, I’m not addicted to anything. I can still walk, take out the trash, bathe myself, etc.

I recently was hired as the Director of Pastoral Care and Programs with the Marin Foundation, which is a non-profit ministry located in the Boystown neighborhood of Chicago. The foundation seeks to build bridges between the broader lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) and church community through scientific research and social and Biblical education. The foundation’s unique approach strategically partners with both religious and LGBT organizations striving to make a sustainable, structural difference for the Kingdom of God in today’s socially driven secular and religious cultures.

The president and founder of the Marin Foundation, Andrew Marin, recently released a book called Love is an Orientation, which in my opinion is the best book on faith and sexuality. It is written to the Christian community regarding the hot button issue of homosexuality. And so we at the Marin Foundation seek to elevate the conversation between these two communities and work for the rehumanization of the LGBT community. Too often we put labels on one another that is simply a way for us to dismiss one another completely.

Whether or not we like to admit it, the topic of homosexuality is causing major culture wars. Gay marriage will be the Roe v. Wade of our generation, the average age of someone “coming out” is 15, the average age of a same-sex attraction is 13, 86% of those in the LGBT community were raised in a denominational religion yet 68% said there is nothing that would bring them back to church, and many of us have gay family members. Additionally, there is much hostility between those who are gay and those who identify as “ex-gay.” Because of this, the conversations must be had, the tension must be embraced, and validation of one’s experience must be recognized.

As Billy Graham once said “It is the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge and my job to love” that is what we are the Marin Foundation seek to do. We long to love. All people regardless of sexuality, regardless of theology because we believe that is what God has called us to do.

Ok, now for the asking for help part. To be honest with you, I am grimacing as I write this. As part of my position at the foundation, I am responsible to fundraise half of my salary. As of right now, I am hoping to raise $15,000. (Yep, I just gasped as well) The foundation has never fund raised before. Andrew, as the president, has never taken a salary of more than $9,800. So we are trying to raise $300,000 for the year. For a complete look at where every dollar will be spent, please click here and here.

However, I figure if I could find roughly 100-125 people who could simply give 10 dollars a month, I would be able to reach my goal with out a problem. Or that is a one-time gift of $120. That is roughly a couple drinks from Starbucks a month going instead to a foundation doing incredible work across our country. Or better yet, if I could find 10 people willing to give about 100 dollars a month, I could also reach my goal.

I could say it is easy to give a few dollars a month, but I know the financial situation most of us are in right now. And so I understand if you cannot financially support the work of the Marin Foundation and I. To be honest, I don’t like asking for money, at all. I find it annoying, embarrassing, and a bit shameful. However, if you can give, please do. I am asking for your help. I honestly don’t know what else to do and I have such a passion for this topic that I can no longer remain silent.

So there you have it. I’m turning a new leaf and asking for help. I know it’s hard to put all of this information in a couple paragraphs on a blog that I’m not sure anyone reads beside my Dad, MK, MB, another MB, and a couple others. But if you want to talk more, ask questions, etc, please contact me. I would LOVE to talk more.

To donate to the Marin Foundation (tax deductible):
Make a check payable to “The Marin Foundation.” In the memo simply write “Nathan Albert” and send to:

The Marin Foundation
5241 N. Ashland Ave.
1st Floor
Chicago, IL 60640

Sandwiches, Feces Dog, and Mist.

2010-02-18T20:59:00.003-06:00

I left my apartment the other day and outside my front door were slices of turkey and ham. No bread, just slices of meat on the ground. As I turned the corner, I found mustard all over the ground. And not too far from the mustard was a pile of shredded lettuce. I did my best not to step in it.

A couple of hours later, I walked by two slices of tomato in the snow.

If I had had some bread in my pocket, I could have made one great tasting sandwich. Next time.

--

Today I passed a young white man who was talking on his cell phone. At the moment we passed one another, Young Man loudly stated, “Yo f%ck that sh$t dog.” He then proceeded to laugh.

This got me thinking. What exactly did that sentence mean? Many people might find that sentence rude, obnoxious, or even inappropriate. Obviously Young Man did not. Others might find it humorous. Oddly enough, I found it worthy of writing a blog.

Young Man was using language and words. In actuality words are just sounds unless put together with other words to form meaning. So he said some noises that when put together can relay a message to one who will receive and interpret said meaning. So, let me try some interpretations of his sentence. (Apologies if definitions are crude or blunt)

It is possible that the phrase is an imperative. Yo, being short for you. F&ck, meaning to have sex with. Sh$t, an adjective meaning bad. Dog, an animal that barks and smells bad when wet. So thusly you have: “Hey you, have sex with that bad-wet-barking-smelly dog!”

Another possibility. Perhaps “sh$t dog” is a type of dog, such as a poodle. Thus: “Hey you, have sex with that type of dog!”

Or perhaps dog means something other than “an animal that barks and smells bad when wet” such as a something or someone. Thus: “Hey you, have sex with that ‘thing/person!’”

Or dog could be a proper name. “Hey you (Dog), have sex with sh$t.” Yuck.

But then again, sh$t dog could be a proper name. So: “Hey you, have sex with Mr/Mrs. Dog!”

Or perhaps sh$t means “covered in feces.” Thus: “Hey you, go have sex with that dog covered in poop!” That one’s just plain gross.

It could be possible that Yo- is a proper name.

Now f&ck could mean, “to forget about” which makes our sentence completely different. And if sh$t meant “bowel movement,” the sentence could be: “Hey Mr. Yo, forget about that bowel movement,” or “forget about the dog’s bowel movement”- if perhaps Young Man was dyslexic.

Perhaps Yo-f&ck is a proper name. So we have: “Hey Mrs. Yo-F, that[‘s a] bad smelling dog.” Or dog could be slang for buddy: “Hey Mrs. Yo-F, forget that, buddy.”

Really, the possibilities are endless. Yet again, Young Man could have simply meant: “Hey buddy, just forget about that.”

I don’t write all this to make gross sentences or have an excuse to use cuss words. I write to explore the nature of language and the nature of thinking. Can we think about the words that come out of our mouths, the power that is behind our words? Does Young Man think about what he is actually saying? It sounds pretty silly when you actually think about it. And I don’t mean to make a judgment, but to me, it doesn’t sound very intelligent either. I say that being one who is quickly falling in love with a thesaurus. But who am I?

I say ridiculous things too. Now with Facebook I have a brand new vocabulary. I say things such as,
“Hey check out my profile.”
“Oh, it’s on my news feed.”
“Post your pic on my homepage and I’ll put it in my status and you can comment on it and become a fan of it so you can post on my wall.”
The term “stalking” is getting a brand new meaning when put after the word “facebook.”
Out of context, what strange sentences.

But then again we could just quote Young Man and say, “Hey, forget about that feces my friend.”

--

Walking back from the library tonight I saw a bright light in my peripheral vision. I thought it was a streetlight. I was wrong. It was the moon. I stopped and looked at it. Then I said out loud, “woah, that’s huge.”

I like when the moon is huge, it keeps me humble and I am not humble as frequently as I should be. It reminds me how little I am; that I am just a mist or vapor, one small number among billions. And yet I love others who are mist and vapors. I love others who are one small number among billions. So much do I love them that they aren’t a small number at all; they aren’t simply a mist. We invest in one another as mist because others have invested in us as mist. And the Creator of mist invests deeply for every mist. That will continually make me say “woah, that’s huge.”

"a wonder is what it is"

2010-01-20T17:00:00.004-06:00

I took an intensive class last week on Wendell Berry. He's an essayist, novelist, and poet who has written an ungodly number of books. He focuses on the agrarian life and has a lot of critique about the urban life, industrialism, agri-business, consumerism, materialism, and individualism. I like and dislike what he says. But at the end of class, I read a poem by him that I love. It reminds me he is a man like I. And it keeps me humble. So here it is for your enjoyment:

A Warning to My Readers
Do not think me gentle
because I speak in praise
of gentleness, or elegant
because I honor the grace
that keeps this world. I am
a man crude as any,
gross of speech, intolerant,
stubborn, angry, full
of fits and furies. That I
may have spoken well
at times is not natural.
A wonder is what it is.

A Better Resolution.

2010-01-01T13:00:00.005-06:00

I realized last night that New Years is a global event. I really love that. I forget that. I want to remember that. Often. There is something about New Years that brings out humanity in all its glory. Celebrating through fireworks, staying up extra late, sleeping in late or going to work the next day incredibly tired or hungover, unites the world for a day. It’s beautiful really.

I never have liked New Years. Sometimes I don’t want to fight a crowd, or step in alcohol or someone else’s puke, or ride the subway packed like a sardine in its can. Sometimes I am tired and don’t want to be up late, preferring to sleep in my warm bed. Sometimes I just want a few friends near by rather than them being across state or country borders.

Yet, when I see videos like this, I realize for one moment the world is united. I can step back from all the crazy news I hear and read on CNN. I can forget about terrorists, forget about the wars that pervade our world, forget about dishonest corporations and ugly politics. I forget that there is hate, that people I see celebrating on New Years dislike my country and I. I forget that the world is so large. On this night, I forget that I live, as my friend Noyah puts it, in “I”-merica, full of Iphones, Ipods, I-want, I-need, I-waste, I-first!

And on this night, I see people who do not often associate with one another, people who are of different races, different languages, different religions and creeds coming together to dance, celebrate, and watch fireworks. They are full of memories from the year behind them and hopeful of the 365 days to come. I see people hugging, singing Auld Lang Syne, kissing loved ones, and proudly wearing horrible paper tiaras that one would/should never wear in public.

And on top of all this, I see humanity. For one night, I see it. It humbles me. It makes me want to hug everyone. I see people as creations of a loving God. I see similarities rather than differences. I don’t mean to be all sappy, but almost everyday I forget humanity. I walk through lonely city streets where you ignore everyone, where the city is grey due to lack of smiles. A city full of people who touch one another crammed on a bus yet are longing for someone to hug them. A city full of “shadowy faces by my side, a sadness that everyone hides, but they go home at night and they fall in line again.” A city full of millions of people and yet these same millions longing for others to simply know their name. And I forget humanity. I forget these people.

So on a night like this, I rejoice in this world. I am hopeful, hopeful for a new year, new perspectives, and new possibilities. And I could make resolutions- lose weight, get my six-pack, whiten my teeth, get a new job with better pay. But we all know that I won’t keep them passed 12:01am on January 1st. And plus, those are based off of my “I”-merica mindset. Or I could brag about my last years’ accomplishments. But how selfish can I be?

Instead I want to do better.

I want to love better. I want to smile better. I want to hope better. I want to remember humanity better. I want to serve others better. I want to listen better. I want be present with my loved ones better. I want to learn better. I want to know God better. And I don’t want to do better thinking I will get things in return or to puff me up. I want to do better so that this world, which most days is not better, will be united better. And not just one night of the year when we’re drunk wearing tiaras. I want better. All of it, better.

And that I think that is a resolution that’s better.

Happy New Year.

Don't Judge My Sexual Orientation, Please.

2009-12-26T12:27:00.000-06:00

Hi, I’m straight. I just want to get that out there. There seems to be some confusion lately. Oh, not on my part, but by others. People are good at making assumptions about my sexual orientation. I’ve known I’ve been straight my whole life. Well, excluding two minutes in high school.

Let me give some background: My senior year of high school I decided to go to college to get a bachelor’s of musical theatre performance. I wanted to be an actor and perform in musicals for my life. I was pretty talented at it. Yet, the rumors at the time were that a lot of gay people did musicals. I didn’t really know any gays in high school. We assumed one kid was so we made fun of him-I painfully regret that. But on this particular day, I was walking down a staircase from a classroom on the third floor to the first; it took about two minutes. While walking down the stairs I started thinking, “Hmm, I wonder if I’ll be gay one day. Since most actors are gay, and I want to be an actor, does that mean I’ll just turn gay sometime?” I debated this down the stairs. Once I reached the bottom of the steps I had this realization: “Wait, no, I’m straight. I won’t be gay.” The end. I’ve been straight ever since.

And so I, as a straight male, worked in a business in which I was a minority. I didn’t mind it really. And through all these years a lot of people have judged my sexual orientation.

While working as an actor the mantra was, “gay until proven straight.” So few straight men in the business, you just assumed everyone was gay. I was fine with that.

When I would go to gay bars with my gay friends it was if I had a neon sign above my head that flashed “Straight! Straight!” I was fine with that.

Now that I am in seminary and seem to be in this weird Christian bubble, people think I’m gay. I not fine with this.

People judging my sexual orientation has never bothered me before. I don’t mind if people think I’m gay, it usually means they think I dress stylish. It’s a compliment. But lately, I have met people who think I’m gay for stupid reasons. And most of these people are Christians. It seems as if people think I’m gay because I dress nice, or because I wear pink, or have a purple wall in my apartment, or because I condition my hair and pluck my eyebrows, or I am comfortable hanging out in a gay bar, or prefer museums to sports. (I know, that does sounds a bit gay)

Since when do we judge a person’s sexual orientation by one’s choice of clothing, or by one’s choice of decorating, or by one’s vanity, or by one’s choice of nightlife? Seriously, why do we do this?

I am getting tired of these assumptions from Christians. Even Christian women I have dated in the last couple years have thought I have been gay prior to knowing me. I’m tired of people making ignorant assumptions based off of social constructs. I’m tired of these gender roles that say men spit, swear and don’t wash themselves or cry, that dirt under their nails and having no sense of fashion is a requirement for masculinity.

So I pluck my eyebrows. Does that make me gay? No, that makes me have really nice eyebrows, stupid. So I condition my hair. Does that make me gay? No, that means I have really nice locks, stupid. So I like purple as a wall color. Does that make me gay? No, that makes my apartment look real nice, stupid.

I really don’t care if you think I’m gay or not. I know I am straight. I know I am a man. My sexual orientation, whether gay or straight, does not make me less of one. Fixing my car and getting greasy or dancing in a ballet does not add or subtract to my masculinity. What you think about whom I sleep with or to whom I am attracted doesn’t matter to me at all. I’m sorry if you’re not secure enough about your own gender identity that you are confused by me, a straight male, who happens to be a little bit of a princess.

What bothers me are you ignorant Christians who make assumptions about my sexual orientation because you have yet to meet a man who is so secure in his identity. And not a gay or straight identity but strictly an identity. I’m sorry if that sounds vain and egotistical, but I’m that secure. Or as one of my friends puts it, “Real men know how to THINK. Any monkey can push, pull and hit things.” And I think, a lot.

Christian, do you really think I’m gay because I wear pink? Do you really think I’m gay because my apartment is clean and nicely decorated? Do you really think I’m gay because I don’t play sports? Do you really think plucking my eyebrows makes me gay? So I’m a bit vain, does that make you think I want to kiss other men? If so, I don’t get you! Maybe it’s because you don’t know any gay people? You need to get out of your Christian bubble and meet some people. Perhaps if some of you actually had a good friend who was gay you wouldn’t make such stupid assumptions.

I was in Thailand last week. Even a Thai woman thought I was gay. (I guess it’s worldwide) She said it was because I was afraid of spiders and didn’t have a girlfriend. So as a joke, a buddy of mine bought me a t-shirt that says, “Sorry ladies, I’m gay!” I am going to wear it.

But Nathan, you’re straight, why would you wear that, you ask? Because gender roles have to change. Because you shouldn’t be judging my sexual orientation by a t-shirt. Because I am so secure as a straight male that I can wear a shirt like that. Because my sexual orientation is not determined by what I wear, drink, eat, or because I prefer to go to art museums rather than play sports. I will wear that shirt as a straight man to prove to the ignorant people out there that humanity in general is more important than a human’s sexual orientation.

I’m off to be a real man. I’m off to think. I’m off to learn. I’m off to read. I’m off to take a shower, and smell nice and look great. I’m off to sing a little. I’m off to have a drink- maybe even an alcoholic one that is pink. I’m off to be sensitive and shed a tear once and a while.

I’m off to be a real man. Sorry if that confuses you.

Blinks

2009-11-12T17:48:00.001-06:00

The other night in class I was pretty fried. Not from the tanning bed mind you nor from falling in a vat of hot grease. I had just taken a big exam, spent the previous six hours of that day studying for it, and there I sat at 830pm trying to stay awake and listen to a lecture. I zoned out. I decided to watch people blink. Why did I decide this? Beats me. I learned some good stuff though:

I learned that one guy in my class barely blinks…at all. I know this, I watched him. I think he blinked four times, total. Weird. He must have pretty moist eyes or something. Regardless, his blinks were very few and far between. Yet when he did finally blink, he blinked real slowly. Almost like slow motion.

Then there was a girl in our class who every time she blinked she blinked three quick blinks. Blink-blink-blink. Every time. Without fail. I watched her. Then she caught me watching her. Awkward. I smiled. And pretended to take notes.

I know you may think that me watching people blink is awkward or stalker-ish. I will not argue with you. It is, and it’s odd. But I did it more because I was tired. I stalk people, true- but most of the time it’s on the facebook, and not outside your bedroom window. But let me say this: watching people blink is really funny. Once I started watching people blink, I couldn’t stop. It was all I could notice. It started to give me the giggles. Right there in class. Giggle-giggle-giggle over the blink-blink-blinks.

Then I realized that when I am tired sitting in class at 830pm after taking a big exam and spending six hours prior to the exam in the library studying that I too have weird blinks. I think when I’m tired and I blink my whole face blinks. Yeah, my whole face. My eyes get tired and I squeeze them real tight and I think my whole face goes right with it.

So I’m off to blink now. I know you will too. Have a good time.

Blink.

Compassion for Worms?

2009-10-23T12:21:00.001-05:00

I did it again. I admit it. I had compassion on an earthly creature- a creature to which I did not think one could extend compassion. Let me explain. It was one of those rainy days. The kind in which there seems to be a constant mist drenching the earth, but keeping you somewhat dry, raindrops being too small to penetrate your clothing. It was dark out and reflections of the streetlights in the puddles canvassed the sidewalks.

There were a bunch of fallen leaves on the ground along side some twigs. And as I was walking across this canvas, I saw that there were a ton of worms. I had been walking for sometime, minding my own business, crunching on a leaf or twig here and there. Lo and behold, most of those twigs were in actuality worms. Big worms.

So this whole time I thought I was stepping on twigs, I was killing worms fleeing from their flooding homes in the ground. You know, now that I think about it, perhaps I was just putting them out of their misery; that at least makes me feel less guilty. I’m a murderer.

At one point, there was this really long one- I think as long as my forearm. I have an average sized forearm by the way- not a six-foot weird one or anything. So this really long worm, it was pretty gross. The boy in me wanted to pick it up on put in a girl’s hair…that way she’d know I had a crush on her. Although with my dating luck, I might have to go back to putting worms in girls’ hair- it may work better for me. However, the metro-sexual won out and I just stared at it for a little while, not wanting to touch it and make my hands dirty. I didn't have any germ-x on me.

Anyway, as I saw all these twigs, which in actuality were worms, I felt bad that I was stepping on them. I felt bad I was killing them. I felt bad that I could be crushing Daddy worm all the while poor Baby worm is thinking- “I wonder where my Daddy is, boy I miss him.” Could I be causing worms to grow up in single parent homes all because of my carelessness?

I made the decision after these thoughts to try and not step on any worms. This was harder that I thought it was going to be. There were a lot of them and they really look like twigs! I averaged 60% I’d say.

But late that night, as I stood by my window watching the few cars drive through the rain, listening to the sound of the city silence and the splatter of puddles, being swept away from all that was around me, I realized I was a doofus.

Not simply a doofus for caring about worms (I’m a totally loser for that one), but a doofus for how little I was caring for anything else. All day, due to circumstances that were not of my control, I was pissy and full of complaints. Really it was due to the fact that I wanted certain events to go the way I wanted them to go and they didn’t. Rather than let them fall off my shoulders, I thought mean thoughts for most of the day.

Why was it I could have compassion on a worm- some sort of jelly-like tube of goo and not the people around me? How was it that I urgently tried to save the lives of worms yet refused to even give humans around me a second thought? What in me made me judge and hold grudges towards certain people yet act so kindly on an animal I thought was a twig?

In the Eastern Orthodox Tradition, there was a monk who argued that warfare and spiritual battles happened between the ears. I love that imagery and I think I experience it everyday. How scary it is since I can be happy and cheerful on the outside but be full of inner discontent that rots me.

So yeah, I had compassion on worms. How nice of me. But I’d like to lavish compassion on everyone. And this battle between the ears, just one of these days, just once, I would like to win. I think I need the victory.

Loving with Strings Attached isn't Loving at all...

2009-09-17T10:52:00.005-05:00

It seems to me that our culture, including myself, has become great at conditionally loving. We pick and choose whom to love, how much we will love. We love when it benefits us, or feels good. It's no wonder that we have the phrase 'unconditional love.' It's oxymoronic. That phrase in itself proves we love conditionally for love is in essence unconditional. Unconditional love is like saying loving love, or unconditional unconditional-ness. You get the point.

Loving with conditions is in actuality not loving at all. Loving with strings attached isn't loving at all. Loving with an agenda or expectations is not loving, it's just using people.

I don't know why we have become skilled at loving conditionally, or loving with strings attached. I just see it. I see it in my life. I see it in my friends' lives. I see it in churches and Christian communities.

Let me give some examples...

Francis Chan uses this example- homeless shelters. Christian organizations provide food, shelter, and clothing for men and woman yet subject them to a 'sermon' before they can partake in any help. Loving with strings. Why can't we, as Christians, just provide food to those who have none? Why can't we just provide others with what we already have an abundance of?

Once I visited this killer haunted house. It was in an old grocery store. It wasn't incredibly gory but a lot of things made me jump, like snakes and chainsaws. It took a long time to get through too! Almost a couple hours. Yet at the end, we walked into a room with three crosses. Then a man came out, thanked us for coming, then told us all about Jesus. I felt dooped, and I am a Christian. I agreed with what he said, yet I wanted to go to a haunted house, not be argued into believing in God. Love with strings.

Or, and this really gets me going, how about the GLBT community. Churches say they are welcoming to those who are gay as long as they stop being gay. Or as long as they become celibate first. Or as long as they become straight. That is not loving at all.

This is an ecclesiological issue. I believe the church is supposed to be a place where you can belong first, then a place where you can believe, then a place where you behave. In that order. Belong, Believe, Behave. Yet, it seems to me that we have reversed that, especially to the GLBT community. Now we say, you must Behave, Believe and if you do those first two, well, then you can Belong. What is that about? That is not love. That's conditional. That is behavioral modification as the impetus for conditional acceptance preceded by judgment.

This is what gets me. Because homosexuality is considered a sin by most church traditions, the church for whatever reason, deemed weight to that sin, thus degrading an entire group of people. The church, the Bride of Christ, has dehumanized humans created in God's image. What?!

Why is it that churches (of course I am using broad sweeping stereotypical terms and statements) have ostracized an entire group of people for this one 'sin?' We don't do this with much else, do we? I would never as a pastor, get up in the pulpit and say, 'All those men in our church who have lusted or ever looked at porn in their life, get the hell out of our church. You deserve death, you damnable people. You disgust me and God. The reason the two towers fell on 9-11 was because of your lust!'

Every man, including myself, would have to walk out of that church. Why, why, WHY have we done this with the gay community!? We don't do this with any other sins. We don't do it with those who have lusted, are angry, have stolen, cuss, or cheat. And I am tired of my gay friends being ostracized from the one thing to which they should be openly welcomed! The Gospel. Why can't we just love. Period. God loves all, Period. Why can't we?

Ok, let me not talk solely about the speck in someone else' eye, let me talk about the Plank in my own...

Here's some honesty: I want to love those whom I chose to love. I want to love those who are easy to love. Or to put it a bit more bluntly, I want to love people I know will love me back. I want to love people who will love me better than I love them.

I want to love, period. Yet it's hard. I have a hard time loving some people. Some people freak me out. Some people are socially awkward or don't blink while they're talking to me. That's weird. I don't want to love that, I'd prefer to joke about it. (Yes I am a jerk). I also have a hard time loving those who have weird hairs growing out of their faces or parts of their bodies where I don't think hair should grow. (Yes I am also incredibly vain). Bunions- hard to love, freak me out. Extremely rank breath- hard to love, makes me want to run away. Moles with hair growing out of them-make me sick to my stomach.

Let me give you a sad example. The other day at church, a couple homeless guys that attend sat in the pew in front of me. I was so excited. I have met these guys, love em, am so glad that they can come in to our church as they are. I don't know much about them. They may be drunks or junkies. They may be incredibly educated men forced to live on the streets. Perhaps all my 'homeless' assumptions are completely wrong. But I am happy to see them. I was so happy they were sitting in front of me. That is, until I smelled them. Now I didn't jam my nostrils into their armpits to smell them or anything. But their scent drifted my way and it wasn't as pleasant as I would have liked. Then I had the sad thought: I wish I had sat further back today. That is loving with strings attached. And I am sorry for my thoughts. Sorry that I think they have to get 'cleaned up' before they can come to church.

And yet this is what we do to so many, this is what I do to so many. This is what we do to the GLBT community. This is what we do to those who are divorced. This is what we do to those who are not virgins yet here from the pulpit you must be pure and virginal to be a Christian. This is what we do to those who are alcoholics. We say get cleaned up first. Behave first. Then you can Belong. This is jacked up. This is wrong. This must change.

A friend told me this story the other day:
There was a church and a woman in the congregation made the announcement that she had cancer. This woman just wept as she told her church family her news. Sitting in her pew, weeping. And yet, everyone at church just watched her. Just sat there. Just watched her. Finally, a high school student, with tears in her own eyes, walked over to her, knelt on the ground, laid her head in her lap and held this woman.

I want to see this more often! Why is it that when someone we know weeps, most of the time we simply watch them. Why don't we weep with them? Why don't we, with tears in our eyes, go over to them and embrace them? I want to get to the point in my life where when someone is hurting, all I do is hurt with them. I want to get to the point in my life where when someone is weeping, all I do is weep with them. I want to get to the point in my life where all I do is lavish love, unconditional, no strings attached, no-agenda, love on them. Lavishing love on others. That is what I want to do.

Why? Because I believe in a God who has lavished Love on me. And the more I realize this, the more I realize that there is nothing else I want to do with my life but lavish Love on others. The Scriptures say, 'God so loved the world, that he gave.' I want to so love that all I do is give.

Martin Luther King Jr., in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail, says this:
"Was not Jesus an extremist for love: "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you." Was not Amos an extremist for justice: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream." Was not Paul an extremist for the Christian gospel: "I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." Was not Martin Luther an extremist: "Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise, so help me God." And John Bunyan: "I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I make a butchery of my conscience." And Abraham Lincoln: "This nation cannot survive half slave and half free." And Thomas Jefferson: "We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal . . ." So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love?"

I want to be an extremist.
I want to be an extremist for Love.
I want to love. Period.