Last Sunday, I delivered this sermon:
LBGT in Lafayette: So, What’s the Story?
Every June, Gay Pride Month is celebrated. Because we are Unitarian Universalists (or like-minded folks), I feel I don’t have to answer the question, “Why Gay Pride Month? Why don’t we have Heterosexual Pride Month too?” But you might be wondering why June is selected for Gay Pride Month?
Forty-six years ago yesterday, on June 27, 1969, police raided a bar in Greenwich Village, New York—the Stonewall Inn. The biggest event in New York City that day was Judy Garland’s funeral, and one cannot help but think that more than a few in the bar that night were still mourning her death. Why? The film, “The Wizard of Oz” resonated for LGBT people; the song, “Over the Rainbow” had become a de facto anthem for the “Movement”, and therefore, Judy Garland was such an icon for gays that the question, “Are you a friend of Dorothy’s?” was a way to quietly determine if someone was gay. It is therefore logical that patrons of the Stonewall Inn that night were still mourning.
On the night of June 27th, the police burst in at the height of the evening’s festivities, and, under the pretense of looking for violations of a “no alcohol policy”, and demanded IDs from everyone in the bar. Typically, if you didn’t have an ID, no matter how old you were, or if you were dressed as a woman (the Stonewall’s clientele was mostly Drag Queens and their friends), you were arrested—otherwise, you were allowed to leave. On June 27th, most were allowed to leave, and joined a crowd of approximately 400 gathering outside.
I’ve read a number of eye-witness accounts, and nobody seems to know what set off the riot. Could be that, after days of mourning the death of Judy Garland, nerves were raw, and the thought of being arrested was too much. Could be that a butch lesbian fought back when put into handcuffs. Could be that, as one drag queen was loaded into the paddy wagon, she kicked an officer and knocked him to the ground. In any case, the paddy wagon started to rock, and people in the crowd began to shout and throw coins and bottles at the police, who turned around and took cover in the Stonewall.
Outside, according to one eye-witness, the crowd “bellowed in triumph and pent-up rage”. Windows in the Inn were smashed, fires were set, and anything that could be picked up and thrown was. Demonstrations took place for most of the week, but by the third night, there was talk amongst the demonstrators of actually organizing for Gay Power. Within weeks, the residents of Greenwich Village began to concentrate their efforts on providing more places (not just bars) where gays and lesbians could be open without being arrested. The anniversary of Stonewall henceforth was remembered with a parade; on June 28, 1970 organizers marked the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots with an assembly on Christopher Street and the first Gay Pride march in U.S. history, marching the 51 blocks to Central Park: one could argue that it was the first positive, public stance against the discrimination and prejudice LGBT people had faced for millennia. On June 2, 2000, President Bill Clinton officially proclaimed June to be “Gay & Lesbian Pride Month”.
The gays and lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered who stood up for themselves at Stonewall Inn in 1969 may have thought they were standing alone; it wasn’t really possible to discuss homosexuality very openly back then, so how were they to know who their allies might be?
It didn’t take long for them to discover that the Unitarian Universalist Church stood with them; if you’ve looked at the insert in your Order of Service, you will see that in July 1970, there was a General Assembly General Resolution to end Discrimination against Homosexuals and Bisexuals.
Yes, even back then, our church was standing on the side of love.
There is much I could talk about regarding the LGBT community on the national level, but this morning, I want to talk about what has happened on the local level. And, to further narrow our focus today, I want to talk about things I remember—well, because I can.
In preparing for today, I reached out and visited a number of places. First of all, I recalled a service done by Rev. Libbie Stoddard on the issue of becoming an officially recognized Welcoming Congregation, so I contacted her. If you know Libble, you will not be surprised to learn that within a week, I had a copy of the entire service. The slideshow that was part of our gathering this morning comes from a display at the Pride Center on Main Street in Lafayette. I will also draw on my own recollections of events in March and April this year—I have video clips from a Community Forum that was held at Faith West on April 5th.
Let’s go back 22 years (I know, I know—some of you were not born yet!). In May 1993, Lafayette City Council passed an amendment to their Human Relations Ordinance, adding protections for sexual orientation; thus banning discrimination in employment , housing, and public accommodation. The West Lafayette City Council passed a similar amendment shortly after. For me, it was hard to imagine that all of this took place 22 years ago, and yet I remember the church service very clearly. The service took place on January 31, 1993, some months before the Lafayette City Council vote. I should mention that a number of elements in today’s service come directly from that January 1993 service. In her opening, Libbie explains the steps leading up to this service: In the fall of 1992, Libbie explains, “
…after five or six months of discussion and planning, Jean Erb [Jean was the minister of Shalom United Church of Christ] and I co-led an adult education class, using the Unitarian Universalist curriculum, called “The Welcoming Congregation.” The intent of the curriculum is to help people explore their feelings about homosexuality. The hope of the curriculum Is that it will encourage religious congregations to be not only accepting of sexual minorities, but to be welcoming of them…We extended our series of eight class meeting[s] for an additional week in order to attend the public hearing on “gay rights” at the county library.”
Libbie goes on to say, “In addition to what we intended to include in our class learnings, something else happened that was not part of the curriculum, yet affected some of us profoundly. That was the experience of working and learning with people from another religious community, a quite clearly Christian community. We tend, here, to hold a kind of siege mentality, often feeling that no one else can or does share any of our views, or would be willing to discuss the topics we discuss.”
Today, in a reading, Kris shared a poem from Joan L—it was a part of this 1993 church service. I would like to share another excerpt from that service—this is the part I remember so very clearly, as I was so struck by the words of Joan M (and I do have her permission to share this). Joan M’s segment of the service is titled, “Choosing to Wear the Button”:
“At the end of one of the Welcoming Congregation classes we were each asked to choose a button, expressing a pro-gay or lesbian sentiment, then to wear it one day before class the following week…All “Welcoming Congregation” participants chose buttons…Mine reads: “Don’t Presume I’m Straight.” …While driving home after the class in which we took the buttons, I experienced my first reaction to wearing the button—“no big deal.” It did not occur to me not to wear the button to my office…..My second reaction occurred over the weekend as I thought about the week ahead. I found myself carefully checking my calendar to choose an appropriate day to wear the button. I did not want to wear it on a day where I sat at my desk and did paperwork. That seemed too safe. On the other hand, as I leafed through the calendar---I decided not to wear the button on the day I was hosting a lunch for undergraduate students from historically black institutions whom we were trying to recruit to graduate programs at Purdue. “how awful,” I thought, “if a student we wanted to attend decided not to because he or she was offended by my button.” ….Like Goldilocks of Three Bears fame, I found myself looking for the day that was, not too safe, but not too risky, “just right”. As I look back over the day I wore the button and, more importantly, the days I chose not to wear the button, I think about the questions that went through my mind, “will this reflect negatively on my office?” “Will this create problems for my
boss?” I then consider the questions homosexual and bisexual men and women ask themselves as they interact with heterosexual society. Wearing a button expressing a pro-gay or lesbian sentiment for one day does not in any way compare to the experience of being homosexual or bisexual in our community. Yet wearing a button for a day gave me a glimmer of understanding about the issues of tolerance and acceptance that members of the gay community face."
Thank you, Joan M, and thank you, Joan L.
That Sunday in 1993, listening to my fellow congregants, I knew I was in the right religious community. It was no surprise then, when members of our congregation and our minister spoke out at various City Council meetings, urging passage of the amendments to the Human Relation Ordinances. On April 29, 1997, our congregation made it official, and this public declaration went out (with rainbow cake to celebrate): “
We, the Unitarian Universalist Church, declare ourselves to be a Welcoming Congregation. A Welcoming Congregation is a religious community that welcomes and accepts people who are gay, lesbian, transgendered or bisexual; that strives to be a safe and affirming environment for those among us who are gay, lesbian, transgendered or bisexual; that ensures all areas of congregational life are open and inclusive; and, that commits itself to work for the rights and dignity of gay, lesbian, trandsgendered or bisexual people in the larger community.” We, the Unitarian Universalists, chose to stand with our LGBT community members; they were not alone then, and they are not alone now.
We stood again with in 1996, when a conservative faction of the community asked the Lafayette City Council to REPEAL the amendment to their Human Relations Ordinance. We spoke up, we joined the newly-formed Citizens for Civil Rights, and we made a very public statement, in the form of a newspaper ad. It was part of the slideshow at the beginning of the service, but if you missed it, it read: “
PEOPLE OF FAITH SPEAK OUT. As people of different faith traditions, we draw upon shared religious principles and recognize common belief that religion should be a healing and
constructive force in public life. We affirm the dignity and value of all human beings. We challenge the forces of intolerance, coercion and fear, and commit ourselves to helping create a friendly community that honors and supports freedom, equality and respect for all its citizens. We urge the Lafayette City Council to maintain in its entirety the Human Relations Ordinance which reminds us of, and inspires us to live out, the highest ideals of tolerance, peace, and mutual respect. We reject, and call upon the Lafayette City Council to reject the current call for divisiveness and discrimination
against our fellow citizens.”
A friend of mine, Pastor Steve Viars, remembers being a “saddened bystander” in 1996 (as his church and home are outside the city limits): He states, “The public hearings, letters to the editor, and other public and private discussions were often divisive and harsh. The effect on our community by people (in my opinion) on both sides was at times hostile and uncivil.” In 2001, as the Tippecanoe County Commissioners were considering a Human Relations Ordinance, they wisely hoped to avoid re-creating similar divisiveness in the community. As Pastor Viars remembers, “
We wanted to try
to bring a level of civility to the conversation. We came into the public square, at least in our minds, as peacemakers not trouble makers…I began reaching out to people [LGBT Leaders in the community] We shared several meals and conversations together – my goal was to get to know the activists as individuals and also gain a greater understanding of their overall story and the reasons this issue mattered so much to them. We also began meeting with certain conservative Christian pastors and leaders – in some cases particularly to attempt to rein in some of the Christians that we believed had behaved badly during the city discussions. We wanted to suggest that religious liberty also needed to be protected in this conversation. So my concern was never really that [Sexual Orientation] was being added to the HRO – but that religious freedom for all people also needed to be protected. Incidentally – I still hold that position today.”
I see looks of disbelief out there! I know we, as UUs, are a very skeptical bunch. Don’t take my word for it. So, here it is, directly from Pastor Viars. [video clip]
Let’s fast-forward a bit. There are so many instances to highlight, so much—good and bad—that has gone on in our local community. But let’s talk a bit about the past couple of years.
In the fall of 2014, Freedom Indiana worked with citizens of our state to lobby the legislature. The goal? To prevent a “Marriage Amendment” from becoming a part of the State Constitution. For me, it was also important to prevent the divisiveness of the 1990’s from occurring in our community again. Our church did not hesitate to open our doors for public meetings, and the number of citizens of all stripes who felt passionate enough to attend rallies, write letters, and make phone calls was truly astounding to me. As Karen and I proudly carried an enormous stack of letters from our community to the Statehouse, I felt so…loved. I felt embraced by so many. One of our local legislators must have felt the weight of our words too, as Rep. Randy Truitt was the one to stand up and propose an amendment to the Marriage Amendment—the passage of his amendment killed the proposed Constitutional Amendment. On June 25, 2014, it all became a moot point when the 7th Circuit Court of Appeals upheld marriage equality in Indiana. And, it really, really became a moot point this past Friday, when the Supreme Court of the United States affirmed marriage equality for ALL
citizens in ALL 50 states…….
This past March, a bill was passed by the Indiana Legislature—the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, also known as RFRA. It passed so quickly and quietly that I admit I did not even know about it until after it had been signed by our governor. The negative reaction to it was swift and passionate and….came from all over the UNITED STATES.
Let me repeat that. The backlash came from all over the United States as people stood against the blatant discrimination of the LGBT community in our state.
At this point, there was…well, confusion. Many religious leaders appreciated the language of the law, as it upheld their right to practice their religion. And, they pointed out, many other states had RFRAs of their own (however, I need to point out that most were passed years ago). Local ministers spoke about the pros and cons of RFRA to their congregations; I attended two church services to hear these thoughts; I went to Faith Church in Lafayette and Congress Street United Methodist Church. (Hey, I’m a good UU—I can hang with anyone in order to hear religious ideas!). I have spoken here before about “pre-judging” people, and many of my own “pre-judgements” were brought to my attention as I walked into each building—but that’s a sermon for another time. After I walked out of Faith Church, I felt deep despair—for our community, and world. The message I heard that day, “Does Jesus Discriminate?” did not jive with the Jesus I knew. I will admit too that I felt betrayed—I had a personal relationship with Pastor Viars and many members of Faith Church, and I knew them to be kind and giving to everyone. At this point, I could have easily decided to say, “Screw it!” and relegate everyone at Faith Church to the “Them” category—you know, the “Thems” that “Us” are opposed to. But I just couldn’t do it. Some talk about a crisis of faith—well, this was sort of like that; my feelings of betrayal went deep. Ultimately, I decided to reach out to Pastor Viars—I met Steve for breakfast in late March. By then, the RFRA “battle lines” had been drawn; incivility in the state of Indiana was at a peak, and I wondered how this breakfast was going to go—would we just shout over one another, never listening? I felt burdened when I walked into the Diner that morning—burdened with my own feelings of betrayal and hurt, and burdened with the thought that if I could not find the words to truly represent the feelings of my LGBT friends, a lot could be lost. We could come to some degree of understanding, or we could walk away to our separate lives, forever being “Us” vs. “Them”.
I talked—a LOT—that morning. Steve listened, questioned, and explained. I walked away feeling much better; I felt that WE reached UNDERSTANDING. I think that, in the end, most of us just want to be understood, right? I was pleased to hear that Faith West was going to hold a “Community Forum on RFRA” on Sunday, April 5th; I was hoping that the opinions of those against RFRA could be heard; I was really hoping some minds could be changed. I invited Rev. Charlie and some other friends to join me that night. I wish I could play the whole video of that night (if you are interested, I can give you the link), and I’ve shared two clips so far, but here’s one last, important clip.
I have to tell you, I think it was at this point was when one of my friends leaned over to me and whispered, very sincerely, “Who is this guy? Where is Steve Viars?” Some of you may have also asked that question too. And, I will remind you of the words of Rev. Libbie earlier: “We tend, here, to hold a kind of siege mentality, often feeling that no one else can or does share any of our views, or would be willing to discuss the topics we discuss.” It would be wise of us to remember her words as we tackle the injustice that still permeates our human existence. We need to remember those words as we deal with the fact that you can still be fired for being LGB or T in Indiana. We need to remember to be open and willing—willing to dwell together in peace and to seek the truth in love. Every advancement in justice for all persons has come slowly. Much conversation needs to take place; communication is the key to understanding. If you read the local paper yesterday, you will know that we need to keep talking, keep having conversations with EVERYONE. I for one, will keep talking to my friend Steve Viars.
The patrons of the Stonewall Inn felt very alone that night in June 1969. Their single act became the catalyst for a movement of justice for all in the United States, with some very unlikely allies.
Allies, standing. Standing on the side of love.
When Karen and I made the decision, and then got married, I felt very, very good. Extremely happy. And yet, a part of me felt it wasn't really "real", because there were other same-sex couples in other states all over the country who were not allowed to marry. It's like when you're a kid, and you are given a Popsicle. It tastes good, it's satisfying, but if you are eating it in front of friends who don't also have Popsicles, it's just not that tasty. You feel a little odd, eating it in front of them. You might even notice it tastes weird, and tell your friends, "It's not that good." But when everyone has one? It's fun. It's a party. 
