#LoveWins

Don’t urge me to leave you or turn back from you.
Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay.
Your people will be my people and your God my God.
Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried.
May the God deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.
-Book of Ruth 1:16-17

On Saturday, September 19, 2015 I married two of my best friends Andrea and Cindy in holy matrimony in Appleton, WI.  Having been ordained since 2009, I truly never thought I'd ever get the chance to use these credentials until they asked me a few months back.  Although my answer was an automatic yes, I sought out to make sure that my homily and the imparting words of advice I gave them on their special day was something unique and not always heard at wedding ceremonies. 

When they had their commitment ceremony years ago, they asked me to write a poem and recite it during the ceremony.  I subsequently sought out to discover and write about a truth I hold very close to my heart: love.  I did the same when I began writing my homily but this time instead of trying to define love like I did with my poem I decided to write a short story about love.  

I'm happy to share it with you here today because at the end of the day, no matter what political pundits are saying on the campaign trail or what new horrible thing is befaling the LGBTQ community, love truly did win on June 26, 2015 and nothing can nor will stop LGBTQ people from committing themselves to each other in legal wedded bliss.

A Short Story About Love

Now it is my turn to impart a piece of monumental wisdom upon two individuals that have impacted my life and whom I consider not only friends but also family.

It isn’t everyday two of your best friends ask you to say something at their wedding but then it also isn’t everyday they then also ask you to marry them too.   So, true to form and like with all good things that are supposed to have a meaning behind the meaning, I’m going to start with a story of two married fish.

You see, there were once these two married fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way. The older fish nods at them and says: “Morning! How’s the water?” And the two married fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over and says to the other: “What the hell is water?”*

A few years back, I wrote a poem about love; like with all poetry and creative forms of expression, it stemmed from a real place, a memory, and feeling. The one problem with that poem though was that I tried to define, pinpoint, and label what love was supposed to be.

We often forget that we don’t live in a vacuum. The real world has a stark and sometimes-cruel way of reminding us of what’s around us and sometimes the world that we thought we knew isn’t the one that we see. However, the one thing that becomes blatantly clear here is the choice we are all given and have to seek out and change the world we see.

As gay people sometimes we’re lucky enough to have a family that is open and accepting and then sometimes we’re not. If the result is the latter, we each then have a choice to seek out and see a world that feels unaccepting and make it into something that is filled with love, laughter, and of course a dance partner that we both choose to love and build a family and life with.  

Upon finding your other half, you begin to build a life, create a family, build a home, have children, and a career; perhaps that career changes but you begin to move and mold not only yourself but now also your partner and family that you’ve built as a result and you work on defining what love means to you and your family. You begin to go through the motions each day: waking up, going to work, coming home and doing the countless other tasks that often take up a majority of our time but in the end aren’t really the things in life that end up defining us or the families we've built. 

When I asked you two to describe one another Andrea said Cindy is her protector and Cindy said Andrea is the strength that holds their family together.  I first met Andrea at the University of Wisconsin Whitewater when she was my assistant hall director and I subsequently met Cindy while she was a police officer for the university. Andrea represented strength from day one, being a Wells West Hall Director will do that you and Cindy, being a police officer, well need I say more about her penchant for protectiveness. As the years went on I saw two individuals who both represented what they saw and wanted in a partner but also two people who became models for the way in which I, and many others, started to define how we wanted to live our lives and therefore define our own versions of love.

That’s the funny thing about love: you never know where you’re going to find it, how you’ll define it, or where it’s going to take you. Love truly is fleeting and at times, as the years go on, it is easy to forget that in your marriage, in the bond you have both here today and for years to come, that you have to remind yourself of the love you felt when you first saw each other through the mass exodus of Whitewater students as they crowded out of the residence hall at 3:00 am thanks to that ever constant fire alarm that rang in the middle of the night.  Then ten, twenty, and thirty years down the road when Cal and Cooper are older and out of the house and you two are left, swimming along together again as partners in life and love.  

It’s easy to get bogged down; to forget that a marriage is living bond that grows and expands each day as you two grow together. It’s easy to forget that the world we exist in and fashion is full of love and that it is present within the person and family you’ve created around you, even if you forget or become complacent with the world around you. Staying aware of the real value of marriage is the bond of love that you create here today and that it will always surround you and that you will have to remind yourself each day to immerse yourself in it or you'll run the risk of forgetting why you chose each other other in the first place.   

Remind yourselves about how you define love is the real value of a real marriage, which is why it almost never has nothing to do with a contract or religious dogmatism. Awareness of what love is in a marriage is the key to success, remembering what is so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over again, much like the two married fish swimming along together, who have grown unaware of the world around them, that the water in which they are swimming in, is the world, the love, and the lives they once created but perhaps had forgotten along their journey. When we’re married we have to remind ourselves that the vows we take is the love we want to see both in the world and in the eyes of the other individual you are vowing to love until your last day: If we forget this, we too run the risk of becoming the two married fish unaware of their surroundings.

It is unimaginably hard to this, to stay conscious and alive in the adult world day in and day out. Which means yet again that the grand cliché turns out to be true: your marriage really IS the job of a lifetime and it commences now.*  Start reminding yourself today that this, what we have here right now, is love; say it to yourself, in your head, or carry it in your heart each day so you know that no matter where you may travel or what may happen in the future that the greatest gift in life is to be loved and love in return.

Andrea and Cindy, I wish you way more than luck: I wish you love.

*Foster Wallace, David. "This is Water." Metastatic. Web. 21 Sept. 2015. .
*Foster Wallace, David. "Transcription of the 2005 Kenyon Commenc." Kenyon College. May 2005. Web. 21 Sept. 2015. .

The Religiosity of Silence

In 2013, I wrote an article about the then latest reality TV scandal featuring A&E’s Duck Dynasty’s Phil Robertson and his rampant foot-in-mouth disease that caused him to express his true distaste for the LGBT community and mainly the sexual proclivities of gay men in the pages of GQ.

Now, two years later, it isn’t Josh Duggar’s, star of TLC’’s ’19 Kids and Counting’, anti-LGBT statements getting him into trouble but rather his sexual assault and molestation of 5 girls, including two of his sisters. However, while the Internet explodes with attacks against Josh Duggar and his Quiverfull background it is vital to remember that the silence that he and his family inflicted upon his victims back in 2006 has not only been ongoing since then but also is being reemphasized today with each keystroke focusing on the assailant rather than the victims.

Starting in the 1980s, “Quiverfull,” the religion that the Duggar family adhere to, spread through various evangelical circles with principles focused around biblical literalism such as: traditional gender roles, emphasis on family values, and a scorn and fear of the secular (read: modern) world. Furthermore, while having lots of kids in the Quiverfull religion isn’t just about building up one’s quiver but rather reemphasizing the way in which the world should be run: with women as subservient child producers who are taught to be silent no matter what hardships they face. Josh Duggar and the rest of his Quiverfull family exist in and perpetuate a culture of silence that emphasizes the male struggle while demeaning a woman’s pain as being a result of her having a sinful heart. It should be no shock then to find out that in a world of silence those who are affected the most by silence find it the most difficult to not only speak out but also be heard when men rule the roost.

While the facts surrounding the culture of silence in regards to assault and molestation are shocking, some other facts emphasize why the case against Josh Duggar is all too real: acquaintance perpetrators are the most common abusers making up almost 70-90% of all perpetrators with 89% of child sexual assault cases involving persons known to the child, with 29% of child sexual abuse offenders being relatives and 60% being acquaintances.

In a repetitive culture of abuse and silence, is it really shocking to find out that an individual who preached such hate and discontent for others actually perpetuated other forms of heinous abuse against others?

To say that I was shocked by the revelation about Josh Duggar’s past would be a misnomer; however, to say that I don’t care would be an outright lie. I do care about what happened because I care about the 5 girls he molested and I care about what happens to them now and in the future when they are no longer silenced and are allowed to be free and feel the pain and hurt he inflicted upon them all those years ago in a new light.

We need to hear their voices, we need to hear their stories and more importantly, we need to stop giving the headline to the name “Josh Duggar” and start giving it back to the young girls, not only in Arkansas but also around the world who are forced to live their lives in silence and fear and without the hope that their assailants, regardless of whether or not they were the son to a multi-million corporate television reality cash cow or just a regular person walking down the street.

Sexual assault and violence know no gender and in the case of Josh Duggar, the main thing we need to remember that although he got caught, he probably never stopped and even more terrifying is: who will stop him now that he is the head of his household with four young kids in his quiver?

John Erickson is a Ph.D. Candidate in American Religious History at Claremont Graduate University. He holds a MA in Women’s Studies in Religion; an MA in Applied Women’s Studies; and a BA in Women’s Literature and Women’s Studies. He is a Permanent Contributor to the blog Feminism and Religion, a Non-Fiction Reviewer for Lambda Literary, the leader in LGBT reviews, author interviews, opinions and news since 1989 and the Co-Chair of the Queer Studies in Religion section of the American Academy of Religion's Western Region, the only regional section of the American Academy of Religion that is dedicated to the exploration of queer studies in religion and other relevant fields in the nation and the President of the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh's LGBTQA+ Alumni Association. When he is not working on his dissertation, he can be found at West Hollywood City Hall where he is the Community Events Technician and works on policies and special events relating to women, gender, sexuality, and human rights issues that are sponsored or co-sponsored by the City of West Hollywood. He is the author of the blog From Wisconsin, with Love and can be followed on Twitter @JErickson85

Are You Ready for Some Football?

There is never a reason for physical violence.  There is never a reason to hit your partner or child to the point where they are unconscious or bruised.  There is never a reason to inflict violence against someone else but apparently there are exceptions to these rules if you’re a NFL football player.

In my native state of Wisconsin, watching football on Sunday is synonymous with attending church prior to the game.  Watching football on Sunday is a cultural norm in many, if not all, different regions of the country where individuals, whether you like it or not, gather each Sunday to both praise and pray that your team ends up on top.

In Wisconsin, you attend church with your family and head to your desired destination where you gather with friends and family to eat, talk about your life, and of course watch your local football team battle their weekly rival.  Although I am not much of a football fan these days, I have very fond memories of attending football games, watching them with my family and talking about the Green Bay Packers’ Super Bowl chances.  It was my time to both bond with the men of my family as well as catch up on the gossip the women would whisper back and forth to each other at the dinner table while the men were in the other room screaming at the TV.

Although I’m sure I will watch more games in my future, lately, all I do is cringe when I think about the growing violence that women and children face and have faced in the large shadow of an organization worth north of $9 billion dollars.

The biggest scandal to hit the news waves lately is that of Baltimore Ravens running back Ray Rice’s assault of his wife in an Atlantic City elevator.  Although Rice and the various other incidents regarding NFL players and violence is disturbing, the biggest problem facing the NFL isn’t just its treatment of women but its continual commodification of them as a disposable resource emblematic with the culture of violence that it has created.

If you didn’t know, women make up an estimated 45% of the NFL‘s more than 150 million American fans and have, in recent weeks, become their most valuable resource and source of criticism.  However, after a long string of incidents stemming back from NFL teams underpaying cheerleaders to the Ray Rice incident, one needs to ask what the roles of women, if any, are outside of the disturbing images of the abused wife, hypersexualized cheerleader?  Is being dragged out of an elevator by your abusive husband the only way to get women’s issues addressed in the NFL by fans, league owners, and the NFL commission?

The roles of women in the NFL and religion have many similarities.  Aside from end zone celebrations where players praise God for his apparent direct role in helping them score a winning touchdown or certain players edifications as gods on Earth, women make up the crux of both NFL fandom and attendance but are responsible for the gatherings similar to the ones I, and many others, grew up with.

Although putting women in charge of drafting new policies that address the “woman problem” currently facing the NFL, it too reeks of the similar dismissive and patronizing actions women face when trying to obtain leadership roles in their religious traditions.  Supercilious progress for the sake of progress isn’t progress and progress under the guise of silence is still misogyny.  We need women in positions of leadership in both the NFL as well as in religious traditions.  The culture of violence and silence will only continue, albeit with a Band-Aid firmly in place, holding the painful experiences and histories of women, long forgotten and often overlooked, until society values their rights just as much as the men leading the prayers and those that are being prayed for on Sundays across America.

Ann Braude said it best in her foundational text Sisters and Saints that “if we want to understand the history of American women, we need to examine the religious beliefs and activities that so many have found so meaningful.” Without women, we wouldn’t have many, if not all, of the religions that are present throughout the world today and in case we forget, without women, we too wouldn't have the millions of little boys who grow up being taken to and from practice by their mothers with the hope that they too could one day become the professional football players that fans scream and pray for.

Without women, there is no NFL and without women, there is no religion.  Kelly Brown Douglas said it best on this very blog when she stated, “It is the violence that violence creates.”  Although I agree with her, I would only add that while violence does indeed create violence, the real sin isn’t the violence itself but rather the silence that follows.

Let us pray that we will continue to not be silent and that we will rise up and fight for the millions of women (and men) each day who do not live in fear that their significant other’s multimillion dollar contract will not be reinstated but rather that they and their children may not see another day on this Earth.

In Memoriam - God Hates Fags

Fred Phelps, an American Pastor who headed the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas died at the age of 84 on March 19, 2014.  While some individuals leave behind legacies of their good deeds and loving memories, the only thing Phelps left behind was a family and church founded on the principle of hate.

A frequent eyesore at various events ranging from military funerals and gay pride gatherings to mainstream events that captured the attention of our pop-culture obsessed society, Fred Phelps and his clan believed it was their sacred duty to warn others of God’s anger over the growing acceptance of not only modernity in general but also issues like gay rights and abortion.  From slogans and signs such as ‘God Hates Fags’ to ‘Thank God for IEDs,’ Phelps has caused many controversies both during his lifetime and after his death.

The first response many individuals had when hearing that Phelps was close to death or that he had actually died was: “Are people going to picket his funereal?” or “Should members of the [Insert Varying Communities the Westboro Baptist Church Pissed Off Here] show him the same amount of respect as he did in life to us and the multitude of funerals he and his family were frequent at?” While many individuals are stating that they should forgive and forget his hate, the matter that not only the church he founded but also the rhetoric and legacy of hate he created still exists is troubling.  While there is still room for debate about the symbolic power rising above it all it is worrisome that he’ll exist even more so now in death than he ever did in life. 

While any such protest at Phelps’ funeral is impossible because the Westboro Baptist Church is not having one for Phelps (coincidence?), the problem still remains that it is far too easy to reduce that Phelps was most likely a homosexual and his repressed sexuality caused him to utilize religion as a force of hate to embody the worst parts of humanity in public forums.  More importantly, it is too easy to dismiss Phelps and his independent church as a bunch of loons.  However, it is not easy but rather very difficult to clean up the mess that Phelps has caused since he famously picketed Matthew Shepard, the gay student who at 21 years old was tortured, murdered and strung up on a Wyoming field fence in 1998. 

The complex legal, religious, and social mess that the Westboro Baptist Church has created goes all the way from their tiny, secluded area in Topeka, Kansas all the way up to the United States Supreme Court.  In the case Synder v. Phelps, the Court held that even speech deemed outrageous could not be liable for a tort of emotional distress (a.k.a. the plaintiff was forced to return a settlement won in a previous court case where the Westboro Baptist Church was held liable for causing emotional distress towards their family after their son was killed in Iraq).  

While I do not know many individuals who are willing to marry into the Phelps family (they're famous for not marrying people with beliefs that do not match their own, their utter demise seems to be imminent not because of Phelps’ death but because the legacy of hate that he created being slowly beaten back by the tide of modernity that greets the remaining Phelps family members each time they unpack their signs to protest yet another event.

Should we rise above his death and not protest?  Did Phelps awaken a new, more radical class of LGBT activists who have dedicated their lives to turning back the hateful tide he has caused? Or did Phelps help further the divide between the LGBT and religious community by embodying everything that hurt and grief-stricken closeted and open LGBT members dislike about religion as a whole?  If Fred Phelps never existed, would some other nameless figure have taken his place?   

While I do not think we’ll ever know the answers to the multitude of questions behind Phelps’ existence, I say if people want to dance on his proverbial grave we should let them polish their tap shoes.  However, the problem is that although Phelps may be gone to whatever version of heaven or hell one believes in, his family and his church live on and will be at the next funeral or event with their signs higher than ever. 

Phelps didn't just live a life filled with hate but he also embodied the very reasoning why so many communities cannot cross that proverbial bridge to work together to see past their differences and maybe never will.  In the case of Phelps, sticks and stones may break our bones, but words really do hurt.

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Although this video may be doctored, I think it is the perfect ending to a violent and conflict ridden recent history of anti-gay crimes both in Russia, abroad, and here at home in the United States.  Often painted as the enemy of gay-rights, Russian LGBT activists have been sacrificing their lives to further the cause of gay rights in a country where people who, like Phelps, can do more than just hold up signs stating that you are going to hell but rather pass laws that make it nearly impossible for you to exist in the first place.  While were here in the United States often paint Russian individuals with a broad stroke of anti-gay sentiments, especially prior to and after the Sochi Winter Olympics, I find it comical that a "Russian News Caster" reporting on the death of Phelps, an American who at his very core hated LGBT individuals, is incapable to not only read the news story but also the various types of signs that Phelps created without laughing.  Homophobia is a traded commodity and it knows no boundaries and it is time that we start realizing the the outsourcing of homophobia doesn't begin abroad but rather right here at home.  

Post by LGBT Radar.

Truths My Mother Taught Me

Today is my mother's birthday and I'm so lucky that I have a space like Feminism and Religion to talk about not only her but also my journey.

Happy Birthday Mom!  I love you!

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The first question I always get asked when I’m in feminist spaces is: “What inspired you to become a feminist?”  Although I could go into the various histories revolving around men’s involvement in the early stages of the women’s movement to the similarities between the LGBTQ and women’s movements, my simple answer has always relied on one person: my mother. 

I’ll be the first to admit (as well as many other people who will join me in the same chorus) that my mother deserves Sainthood for having put up with all the shenanigans I put [and still continue to put] her through.  From running away from our local Catholic church the moment she dropped me off at Sunday School, to swearing like a sailor on leave at a very early age in front of Father Schmidt (who still fondly remembers me and the list I brought in with me to the confessional booth), I taught my mother a few things I do not believe she would had ever thought she'd know during her lifetime. 

Although I pride myself on my rejection of religion, the best lessons that I’ve learned ultimately deal with and relate to the thing I thought I swore off long ago.  I am a feminist because of a Catholic woman who refused to take no for an answer on Sunday mornings because going to church wasn’t about listening to the Priest but rather listening to and learning from the woman who brought me there.  I may have hated sitting in the pews every Sunday but it was there, in that space, where I began to learn what I now love so much.  Though some people may refer to this as lived religion, I suggest that it is more relatable when we refer to it as experiencing religion.  Lived religion, for me, implies past tense, something we’ve studied or done years, days, or even minutes ago.  Experiencing religion is an on-going process, one that happens in the now rather than in the future.  My mother left me when two other truths I’ll never forget:

1.)  Love is love, whether divine or earthly, love does conquer all.
2.)  Trust G-d by trusting in yourself. 

I still remember the day my mother drove away, leaving her baby and only son behind to pursue his dreams of getting a graduate degree in Women’s Studies.  I was scared and I didn’t know whether or not I’d come running home to Wisconsin a week later.  

As the white P.T. Cruiser we rented pulled out of the graduate housing complex I lived in, her words: “I’m so lucky to have a son like you,” resonated in my head.  For the first time, I felt some semblance of divinity watching over me because I trusted my choice and myself.  Trusting in myself led me to find G-d in whatever form he or she chooses to greet me in, I just have to be willing to open the door.

I’m still reminded of my mother’s parting words and the feeling I got each time I board a plane to go wherever those dreams and choices take me.  However, this time, instead of hearing her say that she is the lucky one, I just chuckle, and smile as the plane lifts off the ground, and realize that it is I who is the lucky one. 

I never gave much credence to religion but through my mother, I met G-d, and through her I understood that I’m not a feminist because of the books I’ve read or the degrees I acquire but rather because of the woman I call mom. 

Happy Birthday Mom!  I wish I was there to celebrate with you in Wisconsin.

To Have and to Hold: Gay Marriage and the Religion Question

I feel especially honored to have worked for a City that not only prides itself on human rights but also is a constant beacon to the community and the world, specifically during this critical moment in LGBT history.  If one boy, from Ripon, WI can hear the equality ringing from the streets of West Hollywood when he was younger, then I can only imagine what's next and how the City will continue to change the world for the better.  

This blog dedicated to both the City that I now call home but also the Feminism and Religion community that I am constantly honored to write for.  

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Outrage. Anger. Fear. Hatred. These are just a few of the words that flashed across my Twitter feed as I woke up on that fateful Wednesday, June 26 morning when the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that the Defense of Marriage Act (or DOMA) was unconstitutional and that supporters of Proposition 8, the hotly contested voter initiative in California that banned same-sex marriage, had no standing. People were mad. However, it wasn’t just the typical kind of mad that is associated with hatred, it was a type of mad that was met with impossible anguish because what I was reading and feeling was a result of one thing: there was nothing more they could do.

What does all this mean? Questions from friends and family were filling up my inbox and although I wanted to take a moment to just hit “Reply All,” and input the words: Equality, I had to hold back and start to examine the notion that although equality may now be firmly on the proverbial table, there is still a lot of work to be done, specifically for gay marriage and those wanting to marrying inside the traditional church spaces they grew up in and not just the ones that have come out as open and affirming in recent years towards LGBT individuals.

The ongoing shift of public opinion in support of gay marriage and LGBT rights in recent years is encouraging but it still is only one piece of the puzzle. Working for the City of West Hollywood has granted me the opportunity to see first hand the beauty and the work still left to be done. Although organizations such as California Faith for Equality or Equality California are doing an excellent job in recruiting faith-based communities and other religious organizations to join the fight for LGBT equality within religious communities the work and conversations that need to still occur outside of open and affirming churches is becoming a daunting and often overwhelming force of opposition. The amount of individuals who still do not support gay marriage or LGBT rights in general in conservative and oftentimes hyper patriarchal religious traditions such as Catholicism, Mormonism, Islam, Judaism and other conservative Evangelical traditions still remains a daunting number and it only appears to be growing now that there has been such a public declaration from public policy and legality standpoints that echo Hilary Clinton’s famous words that: “gay rights are human rights.”

The question that remains is not why do these religious groups not support gay marriage or LGBT rights in general but how are individuals, typically on the outside, supposed to convince members of these faith-based traditions to leave or possibly change their opinions if they still remain steadfast and stubborn on other progressive causes that are often discussed on this very blog. Women’s ordination, sexual ethics, women’s rights, and theological and religious equality in general are just a few causes that individuals on the outside believe would be no brainers when compared to tackling the issues of gay marriage and LGBT rights but still we have on-going and often exhaustive conversations about ensuring the full rights of women in faith-based traditions and communities.

The other question that remains may seem to be the icing on the cake but it is really the tip of the iceberg when we discuss issues like equality within religion: if people refuse to leave their religious traditions and communities when women, who are oftentimes the reason for the very success of not only religion but also faith-based communities in general, then do we really think or expect that they’ll leave when their LGBT brothers and sisters are also denied that same type of recognition but on top of it constantly told they are sinners and are going to hell? If a conservative religious traditions can’t give their mothers or sisters full equality, how can we expect them to give LGBT individuals the time of day?

The issue of equality doesn’t just stop at gay marriage and LGBT rights but only begins there. Women’s rights, women’s ordination, and even the idea of a woman President are the only a few of the other pieces of the equality puzzle anxiously awaiting to be put together. As we have seen with the fight for equality, groups are banding together now more than ever before and although gay marriage may be on the front page of newspapers today, who knows what tomorrow could bring.

 

 

 

            

God Doesn’t Live Here Anymore: Gay Bars and the Growing Divide Between Sexuality and Spirituality

I'm always honored to be able to mix the various lives I lead together during my monthly contribution to the Feminism and Religion Project.  I hope you enjoy this month's post and continue to check out the project! 

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My good friend and fellow Feminism and Religion Contributor Marie Cartier’s forthcoming book, Baby You Are My Religion: Women, Gay Bars, and Theology Before Stonewall argues that American butch-femme bar culture of the mid-20^th Century should be interpreted as a sacred space.  Specifically, gay bars served as both communal and spiritual gathering spaces where butch-femme women were able to discover and explore not only their sexuality but also their spirituality.  An opus of an academic accomplishment based off of the amount of in-depth interviews she conducted, Professor Cartier explores lived religion in an area that has become all too common within the LGBTQ community: the bar

The Palms, the last local and only lesbian bar to be found in city of West Hollywood, CA is closing its doors and I can’t help but wonder where its patrons or parishioners will now go?

With its closing, specifically at the end of L.A. Pride weekend, where thousands of LGBTQ individuals flock to West Hollywood to celebrate what makes our community truly unique, one has to begin to wonder where, if Professor Cartier’s thesis holds true, God has gone? 

Does God exist within the LGBTQ community anymore or has the community itself abandoned God for all-night raves, dance clubs, alcohol, and hypersexualized and over commoditized fetishized forms of femininity and masculinity?  Oftentimes, I find myself answering yes to the above questions.  After surviving hate crime after hate crime and endless batches of newly elected conservative politicians hell bent on ignoring medical and social epidemic plaguing the very country they were elected to serve and protect, why would a community, oftentimes linked to sin itself, believe in a holy entity?

The overarching question at hand in regards to the closing of the Palms is not whether or not there is a space for God in the LGBTQ community anymore but rather what role does misogyny play within the very community sworn to respect and take pride in the very differences that makes itself truly unique?  Scholar Ann D. Braude credits the success of religion to the active and oftentimes overwhelming support of women.  With 40% of West Hollywood’s 35,000 residents identifying as gay but only 3% identifying as lesbians one can deduce that the closing of the Palms signifies the growing divide between the LGBTQ community and spirituality as more women leave the proverbial "church spaces" that they have created.  

The success of the LGBTQ community cannot be tied exclusively to gay men but also the struggles and successes of the lesbian community.  Similar to the various ways in which women helped religious communities boom throughout the 18^th, 19^th, and 20^th centuries in America, the lesbian community, as a whole, is integral to not only the successes of the LGBTQ community and the very cities and spaces they have helped to found.  

With the exodus of women, so comes the migration of spirituality itself and one can only wonder, whether or not, there will ever be any room or spaces left for women where more individual are becoming continually transfixed by Adonises and abdominal muscles. 

If Professor Cartier’s thesis does hold true, we have to begin to wonder if women are fleeing and God is following them, where might they be looking for a new lease?

8 Simple Rules for Being a Queer Godfather

This month I decided to write about an event that changed my life: the day I became a Godfather.  I am honored that I am able to write about issues on the Feminism and Religion Project but proud that I have the ability to share my story with our readers.  Enjoy.

xoxo

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I often wondered why I wasn’t asked to be the Godfather of my niece and nephew.  It made perfect sense to me that I would be the best person to guide and provide spiritual care for either of them as I was the only member, in both my family and my brother-in-law’s, getting a PhD in Religion.  I didn’t think there would be much to it.  I would go, hold my nephew, and watch a priest pour water over his head, and then go and enjoy some very sugary cake in my sister’s backyard. 

On August 18^th, 2012 my wish came true and I became the Godfather to my sister’s second child, Drew.   I had always believed that there was nothing to being a Godfather.  That it was a title in name only and a tradition that many individuals bestowed upon members of their family as ritualistic habit rather than a sacred institution of spiritual care and upbringing.  Boy, was I wrong.

In various posts housed on this blog, authors discussed their hopes for the future and their wish to change the systems of domination that many believe to be a source of entrapment in specific religious traditions.  As an advent agnostic, I always found religion to be an interesting force of social control rather than way of life that some people believe it to be.  Becoming a Godfather was more than just a reentry into the Catholic traditions I had long given up but rather a journey back in time that would grant me the ability to rewrite the wrongs I felt as a kid growing up in a tradition I not only didn’t understand but also didn’t feel like I belonged in. 

Looking into my nephew’s eyes as he quietly sat in my arms while the priest poured water over his head, I made a wish for my nephew and said my first prayer in a long time:

Dear Nameless Deity,I know I haven’t been the most faithful as of recent but I want you to know that I promise to take my role as Godfather seriously.  I understand now that Drew’s journey is just beginning and that I am here to help him along his way.  Bestow me with the ability to answer Drew’s questions when he gets older and to be there to guide him through life as a friend in his spiritual journey rather than an authority who dictates instead of listens.  Keep him safe and keep him in your thoughts, amen. 

(Me Holding My Godson Drew, my mother holding my nephew Brady, and my niece Emma dancing)

I realized that I wasn’t going to be the a-typical Godfather.  As a self-identified queer male, I realize that Drew, if raised in the same traditions that I was, would one day have questions not only about faith but also about his Uncle and now Godfather.  How would I answer them and more importantly, what would I say when and if he ever asked me if I was going to hell? 

While he slept in my arms I came up with 8 rules I promised to live by when and if Drew ever would require the spiritual guidance I was sworn to deliver.  I reinvented the tradition to create a better future for my Godson rather than the recapitulate the dominating forces that entrap rather than empower and confuse rather than answer:

1. Answer all his spiritual questions regardless of how hard they may be for me and how awkward they might be for him to ask.
2. Treat him with respect and dignity.
3. Give him the resources he needs to continue his spiritual journey if he so chooses.
4. Do not lie to him about the Bible.
5. Educate him about various interpretations of the Bible and g-d. 
6. Go to church or whatever religious institution he chooses to attend without hesitation or judgment. 
7. Teach him the differences between theological questions and religious ones. 
8. Love and listen to him, no matter what he chooses to believe or what he does throughout his life.

It is my dream that one day we can create a world with new traditions started by the simple actions of making new spiritual promises rather that reifying old ones.  One step at a time and one wish and a prayer later, change may be right around the corner or in the hopes and dreams of a child just starting their journey in their Godfather’s arms. 

(Me Holding my Godson Drew and his sister Emma)