I'm Not Peter Marshall

For so many reasons, I'm not Peter Marshall. But, I suppose, the number one reason that looms large in my mind is that Peter Marshall was straight and I'm gay. To say that I am gay doesn't sum up who I am, but it's a large part of who I am, made all the larger because of the pretense I live with daily. I am a pastor in a denomination whose church law currently proclaims that those who are ordained shall "live either in fidelity within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman, or chastity in singleness." Such lovely and noble language. So romantic. I bet Catherine Marshall would have loved it. But the next line is not so lovely: "Persons refusing to repent of any self-acknowledged practice which the confessions call sin shall not be ordained..."

I won't go into all the political wranglings that produced that bizarre way of saying, "Gay people are sinful and therefore shall not be ordained." I am so tired of those who want to quote scripture (or confessional statements) ad nauseum at me to defend their positions. I'm equally tired of those who want to quote other passages of scripture (or other confessional statements) ad nauseum refuting those positions. But of course, that brings up a whole other issue: I'm just tired of anyone using any faith document to defend their positions about anything. Use faith documents to inform? Yes. To challenge? Yes. To question? Yes. To nurture? Yes. To encourage? Yes. But to defend? No. Give me a break! Have you heard about the Inquisition? Have you heard about biblical defenses of slavery? Have you heard about biblical defenses of women as second-class people?

Maybe the reason that I don't think of people who disagree with me on the issue of gay ordination as gay-bashers or hateful people is because I know how long it took for me to come to terms with who I am. Or, to be truthful, how long it is continuing for me to come to terms with who I am--not just with my sexual orientation, but with so many other facets of my being. I'm just tired of arguing and defending. I just want to live and be.

I'm gay. I love a man. I'm a contributing member of society. I'm part of the two per cent of Americans who have a doctoral degree. I've served faithfully in churches for thirty-four years (I was very young when I started!), preaching, teaching, administrating, caring. I've served my denomination in various capacities. All I want to do is to be a pastor and be wholly who I am in relating to the people I work with and live with. But the energy it takes to keep up the pretense!

Oh, I'm not totally in the closet. I'm out to my family. I'm out to a lot of other pastors in my denomination, some of whom are also gay.

You see, one of the biggest problems is that, although many in my denomination don't love me, I love my denomination. I love its theology. I love its worship. I love its polity. I love its history. To leave my denomination would be akin to divorcing my family. Just as much as I am gay I am a child of my denominational tradition. And, just like my family, it's imperfect, at times dysfunctional, judgmental, even mean. But it's also nurturing and loving and absolutely jam-packed with people with whom I have rich, long-standing, loving relationships.

I don't want to be Peter Marshall. I just want to be me.