Tattoo..

“Tattoo of Leviticus 18:22 forbidding homosexuality: $200

Not knowing that Leviticus 19:28 forbids tattoos: Priceless”

Feel free to pick the verses that give one power to clobber others but by all means ignore the ones that limit your personal freedoms.

12:45…(pt 2)

I’ve been asked to continue my thread detailing my journey as a former fundamentalist and how I came to accept and embrace my many gay and lesbian friends.  Here is part two of my pilgrimage of understanding.

As a new minister recently hired away from a previous church, I was feeling pretty good about myself.  Even under the cloak of spirituality the thought of being sought out and desired gives a boost to an otherwise ordinary existence.  The honeymoon phase for a new minister should be experienced by every living being.  Imagine everything one says  or does being met with glowing admiration and acceptance.  Having witnessed this period during my last hire, I wanted to embrace every moment as I knew once the warm fuzzies wear off the real work begins.

I noticed Jerry and Fred (mot real names) around the church and initially didn’t really think to much of them apart from anyone else.  It wasn’t long before I learned they were very kind and gregarious and seemed to always have something entertaining or encouraging to say.  The people of the church gravitated towards them as would be expected and their presence was seemingly loved by everyone at the church.  They created some of the most elaborate decorations I’ve ever seen inside a church.  The ‘Hanging of the Green’ was just short of a Broadway production transforming the old stale auditorium into a Thomas Kinkade painting with grand flourish.  Their combined voices in the choir redefined my understanding of how beautiful a choir could sound. They worked tirelessly making sure the choir robes were immaculate in every aspect.

We heard told by many of the grand dinner parties they would often throw.  An invitation to one of the soirees was treated as the height of complimentary, from then onward,  now considered an insider.  The food, we heard, was beyond description and talked about long after the event concluded.  Without question, this old southern church was a better place because these two gentlemen choose to worship there and invest themselves in the lives of others.

Their home was a perfectly restored old Victorian complete with a grand staircase and a chandelier that left you speechless the first time it was seen.  Every personal detail sought to offer a glimpse into who these two men were and what they held dear and important.  Conversations were hard to hold for first time visitors as the embellishments and potpourri would constantly steal your attention and distract you from the topic at hand.

I know what many of you must be thinking as you’ve read this thus far…How did you not know they were gay men?  Fair question.  My answer would be even though I had some understanding  of gay men and lesbian women, my ability to decipher this trait was unrefined.  The truth of the matter is, even if I did know, which I didn’t until later on, the fact that these two men were life partners would have made little difference at all.  They were just interesting and generous men who treated me wonderfully and offered me a friendship that I willingly took.

Soon I was invited to one of the famous dinner parties and was swallowed in by their charm and warmth.  I found myself stopping by for many visits, many unannounced just because I enjoyed spending time with them and they always made me feel welcome whenever I stopped by.  I considered them friends.

It wasn’t long before the whispers began to circulate among the brethren about the nature of my friend’s relationship.  I was pulled into various meetings to discuss Jerry and Fred where juicy details were provided that described the revulsion many felt towards gay men in general and to my friends specifically.  I was saddened by the vitriolic pronouncements that were being spread about people who were so loved, valued, and appreciated only a short period of time ago.  Now these same “friends” where pouring out buckets of Old Testament anger upon the undeserving heads of these two men.  All they did was offer themselves as members of this community and make it a more enjoyable place to encounter.  Whatever ones belief about homosexual people, it should take into account that these are in fact, imperfect people just like you and I.  That simple fact was quickly overlooked as now the witch-hunt was fully underway.  From that moment onward, these two men where treated as objects of scorn and any attempts at offering humanity where effectively squashed.  More secret meetings were held as the faithful couldn’t come to grips with the reality that was before them.  I was repeatedly asked if they had ever tried anything inappropriate with me as I had spent so much time with them.  My reply was not as they hoped, I said they were good friends who cared about me and I likewise cared about them.  The only thing inappropriate that I could think of was one of the deacons wives who seemed to ask me to visit only when her husband was away.  This information wasn’t what they were looking for.

The church collected its gathered wisdom and decided through it’s “spiritual Leadership” that Jerry and Fred would be allowed to stay in the church but could not be in any leadership positions and needed to not be visible about the church in any way .  In other words, they had to stay in the shadows and dark recesses of the church and stop being everything they were and give up being loved by so many.  Slowly more and more Sundays came and went without seeing their smiling faces.  Visits to their home were less welcome as they sorted out what was to become a new chapter in their lives.  I still tried to be friends as nothing changed in my mind with them but the scars were to deep by now.  It wasn’t too much longer and these two fine men faded off and found other places to invest themselves.  I didn’t understand their hurt back then and took it personally and started to pull back my life from theirs.  If there ever was a time for me to be a good friend it was then but I failed those guys miserably.

I always had trouble reconciling the church’s “teachings” with my friendship and knowledge  of these two men who were at one time very important to me.  Now as I’m older and have escaped the clutches of hate imposed by these types of leaders, scripture has come alive and clear to me.  We were wrong in how this situation was handled…offering them up as a sacrifice to our efforts at self-purification all the while ignoring the direct teachings about love, acceptance, grace, forgiveness, and inclusion.  Going forward,  I pray my life is known for ignoring the man-made teachings about isolation and rejection and instead is solely focused on being a better friend, especially to those on the fringe.

Jerry and Fred, wherever you are I hope one day you’ll forgive me for not standing up for you against the injustice that was perpetrated against you both by God’s followers.  Know this, I’ve taken your brave example to heart and will be the one out front fighting for you in the future.  Be at peace and know your lives made a difference.  Thank you for teaching me what I was unable to learn on my own.

Kindness matters.

Movie…

What I learned from working on a movie set this past week.

  1. The glamor portrayed about Hollywood is strictly for the actors, and by actors I mean top shelf performers not the bit part players.  All the others spend most of their day sitting like the extras waiting.  When I say waiting, I mean waiting.
  2. Eating is taken seriously when it’s able to happen.  Sitting down to a meal isn’t always an option but good food is available all the time to snack on.
  3. Shooting a scene can sometimes take an eternity to get just right, oftentimes the extras start to rumble and cheering does happen when finally completed.
  4. The best way to be noticed and used often as an extra in a movie is to show up as a cute 17-24 year old girl.  If you’re an fat old fart like me you just have to be forceful and show up even when they don’t call you (worked surprisingly well)
  5. AD’s (Assistant Directors) are the hardest working people I’ve seen in a long time.
  6. There are people in this world who are professional extras and they talk about their careers like they are a form of nobility.
  7. Short of the US military, I never seen logistics done as they are on a movie set.  Precision movement of so many by so few is a sight to watch.
  8. A scene that takes 25 minutes to shoot can last a short as 5-15 seconds on film.
  9. Other than being the star of the movie, the only job I would want in the industry would be the clicker board guy.  He seems to move at ease and doesn’t do much heavy lifting.  I could handle this.
  10. It cannot be understood the amount of time spent doing nothing waiting for a scene to be set up or reset.
  11. Some high profile celebrity types are real assholes, however, the majority of the people, including the talent, are very kind, gentle and considerate of the minions about the set.
  12. When doing group shots, try to stand near a buxom woman to get the cameraman to include you in the picture.
  13. Actors can pretend many things but transforming from a pretty boy to a home run hitting baseball hero will take some hard work in special effects to look believable.
  14. It’s really really hard work, the day starts early and goes very late with little or no breaks except for a meal.  The meal only happens if they’ve been able to capture the shot perfectly, otherwise the shoot will continue uninterrupted.
  15. Most scenes of excitement, clapping, yelling, cheering, etc…are actually done in pantomime and sound is added later.  Performing such a scene is a mind blowing experience, kind of like a bad drug trip from ones youth.
    —Getting an affirming nod from Clint Eastwood made the whole experience worthwhile.

Honor…

My path may look overgrown but the route is familiar,

seeking a trail of possibilities over a well worn sidewalk of sameness.

Mine isn’t the ordinary, neither are my thoughts,

finding agreement with the many brings no satisfaction.

The spirit sets our course, my heart’s compass points the way,

justice compels, compassion demands, isolation accepts.

Seeking honor for my soul, needing not mans approval,

eyes firmly focused on the immediate prize.

As the pillow embraces my tired head,

sleep comes easy living at peace.

This is all we have.

Lies…

 

I’m not your enemy, you’re not mine, even though that’s what you’ve heard,

I breathe the same air and have the same hopes for my children.

Yet a climate exists that keeps us at odds,

shading hope for common ground.

Created by puppetmasters seeking more control of the minions,

pawns marching to battle for a victory they won’t share.

Let’s reach across the table, hand in hand,

brother to brother, sister the same.

Share our community, despite what’s being said,

live to love…there’s nothing more important.

Facebook…

I’m growing weary of Facebook.

Each day as I sign in, I hold my breath to see who’s “concerned” about what I’ve been discussing.  Does it have to be like this?

My frustration with Facebook has nothing to do with the connections that have been renewed and restored.  Nor, is my frustration due to the many people who are my “friends” but secretly, I have no idea who they are.  These friends send me messages and updates and I fashionably respond like we’re singing from the same hymnal but secretly I’m just being polite.  Obviously, they know me and the shortcoming surely is on my end, but for the life of me I just can’t recall some of these “friends.

My frustration lies with those who I actually do know and have had a relationship with for many years.  If we are being honest, prior to Facebook, I doubt we would have reconnected and both parties would have lived their lives without a hiccup.

What Facebook allows is a new freedom of expression.  People are empowered to boldly proclaim every thought they’ve previously held captive deep within the depths of common sense.  These same people, who would never utter a disagreeable word publicly roar their disapproval for everything political, religious, and social commentary not falling in the exact shadow they cast.

Worse yet are the stalker fighters who seek out their “friends” to do battle.  Any discussion is fair game for these, even a topic so seemingly benign as the weather can be the epicenter of an all out brawl.  Once word gets out of a fight in progress it’s back to high school where everyone seems to show up and watch and even participate.

*Confession.  I have spent time as a stalker fighter looking for a battle to defend my point of view.  The energy used to engage so many threads of conflict wore on me.  Soon I couldn’t say anything without conflict erupting and armies lining up preparing themselves for the next round of engagement.  I saw the error in my ways.  Actually, my wife kindly point out that the behavior was asinine.  As one who takes the advice from his wife (aka: the holy spirit) seriously, change was on the way.  I soon stopped debating and trying to make corrective points with the opposition instead seeking now only to interact on a friendly level with fun banter and playful jesting.

To quote Michael Corleone, “they keep dragging me back in.”  It’s been well over a year since my efforts on Facebook have stopped participating on battles of right and wrong but those out there can’t seem to leave well enough alone.  A little jab here, and backhanded compliment there, even a sharp rebuttal over there, yet I’ve held my ground and not caved it.  I respect much of this I’ve created, that whole Karma thing and all, but today I’m just tired of the whole thing.

I’m convinced Facebook is one of the markers denoting the beginning of the apocalypse.  Well, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but it’s certainly leading to the downfall of civility if not civilization as a whole.  For all the good that Facebook provides, the reconnection to our past and ability to stay in touch with those we cherish, not to mention the ability to communicate with vast people in levels never before even dreamed.  For all the good that’s possible, I question if the bad is not overshadowing any redemptive possibility that currently exists.

This medium is being used effectively now as a divider of people.  Intentional or not, that’s the reality.  Never before has more information been available to the masses with which opinions and rally points where chosen beforehand. Slowly the machine is creating two camps, not just along political lines, today it’s those in the know and the others.  Methodically, the fabric of our being is being interwoven into a thread that aligns with one or the other grouping.  Carefully, religious belief, political belief, social concerns, and love seem to only fit into two pre-described camps without any room for deviation from any of the topics.  Middle ground has left us.  Compromise is gone.  Acceptance for those not entirely like us has disappeared.  Facebook didn’t create this divide but certainly has worked to magnified it and made the gap wider and thrust it to the forefront so it cannot be denied.  Strike up a conversation with any stranger and within minutes you can see if you share a jersey or are determined to be a future combatant.

I think life is too valuable for immediately sizing up people and quickly determining if they need converting or a handshake.  I hate that we can look at someone’s Facebook and determine everything we think we need to know about that individual, or at least be content assuming that we can know them in this way.  Facebook is creating a generation of surface level relationships that never seek to mine the gold of another’s heart.  Simplicity and expediency, while key parts of Facebook connections, serve little to no value with real souls.

So a tradeoff awaits us.  Do we accept the drama and bullshit that a Facebook account provides?  Or do we jump ship?  Do we go at it the old fashioned way?  The way where we seek to truly know the other before us, appreciate them for what they bring to the table, leave alone that which we disagree.  Imagine if those wishing to do battle with our thoughts had to look us in the eye and be accountable in person as in days of old.  No more paper (or electronic) lions bravely attacking every comment from the safe confines of their homes.  I dare say seeing so many people empowered with disinformation and innuendo leading the charge to save our world really distresses me.

While I can’t change much, I can change me.  Time to go share a glass of wine with friends in person, not just over the internet.

Full Glass…

 

I partake in the spirit of the vine

apologies to none.

Loud opinions voice concern,

the devils brew.

Were they to be alone, a shared communion to follow,

before another angry, temperance reigns.

Handmade beauty, pairing man and nature

creating a tranquil blend.

Each sip a romance best shared with a friend.

Chastity of the glass, an imposed cruel burden,

the unknown gift awaits.

Keep my glass full, my friends nearby,

harmony the song played.

Connection to the gods and all mankind,

from one small grape.

“Wine is sunlight, held together by water.”   -Galileo Galilei

The Look…

Fourteen years ago our eyes first met,

a connection realized.

Across the room we held each others gaze

accepting the gift we found that day.

Slowly through the masses we moved towards the other,

heart racing uncontrollably.

The crowd seemed to part as we approached,

no obstructions to love.

A brief instant, frozen in the mind,

the smile that welcomed me.

A quiet voice inside prompting,

“my name is Mike and I’d really like to meet you”

spilled out before I was aware.

From that day we’ve never looked back or elsewhere…

as Rumi said, “Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,
they’re in each other all along.”

I believe that.

Happy Valentines Day my love.

Minutia Manifesto…

To all the people in my world, today I’m drawing a hard line between us.   Well maybe not all, but certainly some.  This line will be drawn on the closer side to me of the line drawn by you and the divisive nature of your involvement.  For years I’ve enjoyed your presence in my life but it seems that time has run it’s course.  The hatred and anger spewed forth by you and your comrades is too much to endure.

I admit I was once one of you many years back.  I shared your outlook, passion, and quest for being in the right.  For whatever reason my path has diverged from yours and taken a less ordinary route.  I regret nothing of the journey my life has followed nor the people such a trail has allowed me to encounter.  Good people, loving people, people who I had been taught to avoid and be wary of embracing.  Boy, were they wrong.

Each day I see your anger flashed before me through differing forms of communication, a constant barrage of hate and pettiness.  My mind lacks understanding of how the desire of being right becomes so important that it separates and castigates so many people.  Where is the love?  Is there no value in humanity?  Community?  I had dreams that your life would be overflowing with happiness and joy, full of family, closeness, generosity, and positive impact.  You carried so much promise yet let division invade your soul and thump compassion into submission.

I am but a fragile pile of lumpy clay still working through the potters refinement.  Each day I awaken with hope for a glorious day to share but see the disparaging words you vent hoping I don’t have that option.  When did being part of something so imaginary and uncharitable  become the driving force in your world?  Rhetoric is thrown carelessly out unconcerned by who it encounters.  You demand I either embrace this way of thought or be castigated to the Neverworld of untouchables.  Power seems to reduce calm but fortify anger.

Enough of the demeaning groupings you demand I join, enough of the shouts of preservation you seek, enough of the only means to wholeness by your hands…

One of the first lessons in selling reefer I learned was taught to me by a dear friend.  Don’t smoke your own dope.  It makes you stupid.  Friends, you kid yourselves thinking the world is becoming better for your efforts.  A world of war isn’t a world worth living.  Choosing to fight a straw man instead of looking at ourselves and dealing honestly together on solutions represents more a playground behavior than the adult one we postulate.

It’s a shame that political disunion is what motivates you.  It’s sad that each day you seek to dishonor the character of those around you.  It’s pitiful that people walk in and out of your life but you are blind to them due to the tinted leanings of your glasses.  So much good out there, dismissed because it’s just not enough like you.  (or at least what you imagine yourself to be)

I wish I could say, “It’s not you, it’s me,” but that wouldn’t be honest.  It is you and I’m breaking up with you because your a bore and a mean spirited ass.  Life is too short and complex on it’s own accord to add the angst of you to the mix.  I had hoped for more…maybe I am just a dreamer.

Wrap yourself in your flag and shout your rancor from the mountaintop.  Continue the fight.  Know this, your words fall on deaf ears as the perseveration echos like a banging gong, loud and obnoxious, without impact except to annoy.

Me, I’ll be out smelling the flowers and enjoying long walks in the woods.  If not there, maybe sharing a cup of coffee or a glass of wine with the hodgepodge of humanity providence has offered for my enjoyment.

And no, I won’t be looking back.

Alone…

He feels sadness, life lived in pain,

out of place, never one to connect.

Existence more watched than shared.

The mirror a scary place where honesty lives

and the facade fades.

Examining the lives of others, his own too much to bear,

a finger never pointed back at himself.

Living edge of life excising harm, healing those who dare go

close enough come alive.

Hurt soon passes and wholeness found

to those making the journey.

Numb the discomfort…a life lived for not.

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