Conversations on Holy Ground
I know a lot of Rob Portmans.
In my time on staff with the national Log Cabin Republicans, it wasn’t uncommon for me to field quiet, hesitant questions from people who found themselves grappling with an issue that they never thought would touch them so deeply. The Southern chairman of a county GOP with a lesbian daughter. The candidate with a transgender brother. The tentatively pro-equality delegate on the Republican National Convention’s platform committee. And every time I had the chance to talk to one of these folks, I felt blessed.
These were precious opportunities to nurture seeds of equality growing in rocky ground – and as a Christian, these were also often the moments when God challenged me most to put my faith into action.
These were the moments I had to believe out loud.
Because the Republican Party includes many people whose political involvement is influenced and motivated by their conservative Christian faith, policy discussions regarding LGBT relationship recognition, military service, workplace discrimination and so on frequently take on a spiritual dimension. One could argue that it shouldn’t be this way, that discussion of civil rights should always be kept distinct from religious rites, but invoking “separation of church and state” or “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s” a thousand times doesn’t change the reality that religion is central to this dialogue.
The truth is, as an advocate for equality, I wouldn’t want it to. Ours is a cause that is founded in truth and love, and we have nothing to fear from faith. As much as “gay marriage” has become a political issue, polled and focus-grouped and voted on time and again, for many of us marriage remains a spiritual, holy thing.
In the battle for hearts and minds, our moment of victory is often the moment when it becomes clear that discrimination goes against all we know of the love of God, who said in the beginning that it is not good for man to be alone.
When Senator Portman (R-OH) announced his support for the freedom to marry, he wrote, “I wrestled with how to reconcile my Christian faith with my desire for Will to have the same opportunities to pursue happiness and fulfillment as his brother and sister. Ultimately, it came down to the Bible’s overarching themes of love and compassion and my belief that we are all children of God.”
Lest anybody think that only Republicans have to process this issue through the lens of faith, Senator Claire McCaskill (D-MO) presented her change of heart under the headline, “And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (I Corinthians 13).
Senator Portman arrived where he is today because of conversations he had. Conversations with his son, Will. With a man he admired, Vice President Dick Cheney, who told him to “follow [his] heart.” With his pastor and other religious leaders. With friends, family, and trusted colleagues. I have no doubt there were many conversations with God, as well.
These conversations are sacred, and they can only happen on ground hallowed by trust, compassion, and grace.
For those of us who suffer from discrimination, being part of these conversations is one of the hardest things we can do, but it is also one of the most powerful.
Today we are in a strange place in the long journey toward equality. What has been faith for so long – that the freedom to marry would someday become a reality – now appears to be so inevitable that it is nearly fact.
But there are still conversations to be had, and when we enter into that space with our conservative brothers and sisters in Christ, I implore you to act with love.
Be patient, remembering that change is not easy.
Be kind enough to give the benefit of the doubt, even when it’s hard.
Keep no record of wrongs, but welcome those who want to make amends.
Protect anyone who is brave enough to be vulnerable.
And above all, trust, hope, and persevere.
Love never fails.
Photo via Flickr user gothick_matt