Many of us observe Juneteenth, the oldest known celebration commemorating the end of slavery in the United States.

It can seem odd to us--in this age of instant communication--that it was not until June 19, 1865 that those held in abject bondage in Texas did not know they had been freed by Presidential Proclamation on January 1, 1863. That was the day that Major General Gordon Granger landed at Galveston with the news the war had ended and the enslaved were now free.

Texas slaveowners, like oppressors everywhere, were not eager to let go of control, and certainly not to share the good news of liberation.

But our God—by whatever name—is a God of liberation. God's word, God's love, God's activity in the world, frees us every day. We do not have to wait for the oppressor to tell us we are free (remember Stonewall, which we celebrate next week).

God frees us from all that holds us down. God long ago proclaimed the end of all oppressions--whether they are social forces like racism and homophobia, or personal, internalized forces like shame or guilt or fear.

We celebrate the freeing of slaves on Juneteenth.

And each time we come together in worship, each time we come together to stand up for freedom, each time we say “No!” to injustice, each time we pray for ourselves and others, we participate in the struggle to claim the freedom God has already given us.

 

 

 

This is turning into a banner year for LGBT activists and our straight allies—same-gender-loving marriage has been approved in Vermont, Iowa, Connecticut, Maine, and New Hampshire. Polls show ever-growing support across the country for equality, and not just in marriage rights.

It seems fitting that 2009 should be the year of so many gains—because it was just 40 years ago, in late June, that the modern Gay Liberation Movement was born, at The Stonewall Inn, a Greenwich Village bar frequented by drag queens (many of them Puerto Rican) and their admirers.

It was June 27, 1969. Judy Garland had died. Much of gay Manhattan was in mourning. New York’s finest were on routine gay-bashing patrol.

Their timing was not good.

The drag queens decided they had had enough. Instead of letting the police cart them away, they turned the tables, blockading the police inside the bar, using parking meters to bash police cars and breaking into impromptu taunts of the cops (who badly underestimated the crowds of supporters who began to gather).

The underground network spread the word, as did the newspapers which ran a small item the next day. So, over the next several nights more LGBT folks turned out, and over the next few months, groups formed—everything from Gay Academics to Radical Lesbians—and by the next year there were Pride Marches in Manhattan and Los Angeles.

This history clearly matters to LGBT folks—which is why there will be a massive Pride march in New York on June 28, and why Virginia activists are planning activities for the entire weekend.

But this liberation history matters to everyone. Margaret Mead’s caution not to underestimate the power of a few committed people to change the world always touches people of faith—because no matter our faith, we know it is true.

We know God is at work in everyday life, and in those extraordinary moments when once subjugated people throw off their chains.

The world, not just LGBT folks, but the entire world, is a better place because of fed-up drag queens at Stonewall.

Praise God!

 

As a pastor, I am accustomed to seeing how fear governs so many lives.

And as I continue advocating for LGBT equality, I note how much the arguments offered by our opponents are also based in fear.

One example is the controversy in New Hampshire, where the Governor is conditioning his signing the Marriage Equality bill on whether the legislature will grant an exemption to religious agencies and programs so they won’t have to perform, permit, facilitate, recognize or accept a same-sex marriage (or any other marriage to which they object). This also would apply to religiously-affiliated schools and health-care facilities.

As a pastor, I certainly do not favor forcing any religious authority to perform a ceremony which denies fundamental beliefs. This is religious liberty and it is foundational to our nation.

Of course, I am entitled to my religious liberty as well, to perform marriages that are honored by my faith and religious tradition. That is equally foundational—a point the other side does not accept.

So, protect clergy, yes. But I wonder at the justification for allowing institutions not to “recognize or accept” legal marriages.

This New Hampshire provision, and ones like it in other states, seems to be grounded in an elemental fear of contamination with “the unholy.” The law allows people to avoid bodily contact with “the other.” They do not have to face the reality that same-gender marriages exist. Are we allowing fear to govern the public sphere?

That reminds me that Emmet Fox–the pastor/preacher who in the 1930s had a profound impact on New York City, and especially the founders of AA–says: “Really there are only two feelings a human being can have, namely love and fear.”

Fox is making a spiritual observation, not a clinical one. From a spiritual perspective, we are either engaging in love or in fear.

Fox also says, “Love is always creative, and fear is always destructive.” The “always” in that statement may feel forced.

And yet, it does seem true that when we love, we engage in making something more and better than it was. And when we fear, we participate in making something smaller and less God-like.

Let us love, my dear ones, and grow the world in God’s image. And let us heal fear with love.

Rev. Robin

  Last week, I joined more than 300 clergy from around the country in Washington, D.C. to speak to Congress for LGBT equality.

We were part of Clergy Call, a program of the Human Rights Campaign Religion & Faith Program. There were talks by leaders--Jewish, Christian, Muslim--and break-out groups organized by state--we had about 20 folks from Virginia in attendance.  (Pictured on the left is the Rev. Dr. Cindi Love, Execustive Director of MCC Worldwide and pictured on the right below is the Rev. Pat Bumgardner and Rev. Karla Fleishman.)

We represented many different understandings of God, and we felt not only safe with one another but blessed by each other. At a two-hour inter-faith service, we received incredible gifts. 

So much passion, so much spiritual power, in one place. I have been on a high ever since.

But it may have been the visits to Capitol Hill on Tuesday that filled my heart the most.  Visiting Senate and House offices--mostly seeing staff--can be a mixed bag. You can feel like a beggar, asking for a crumb of justice.

However, this time, there was something extraordinarily powerful going on for me. As we went from office to office, and ran into colleagues visiting their states' representatives and senators, I felt the air changing.

We are going to win this, I thought. There is no stopping us.

We are not begging. We are giving our elected leaders a chance to join the juggernaut of justice that will sweep them up in its wake.

There will be another HRC Clergy Call in two years. I can taste the joy already.