Sunshine in my Soul: My reaction to "Ain't No Homos Gonna Make It To Heaven"

When I was a kid, I can remember going to church and doing lots of things that made the adults in the congregation ooh and aah with delight. My siblings and I played in a hand-bell choir, we sang or played instruments, we ushered, put on plays, served food on Mothers' Day, and did tons of other things, participating fully in the life of The Church. Many years before all that, in a different congregation, I can remember participating in a "Tom Thumb" wedding where my younger brother "got married" - it was the first time I heard the word "cummerbund", or actually wore one - and I remember him, on separate occasion, singing a song during a Sunday service that had everyone shouting for joy. It was great, and is a lovely memory my family members and I share with one another to this day.

The song that my brother sang in church was "Sunshine in My Soul". I'm not sure whether that was the actual title, and I can't find any decent reference to the song, but here are the lyrics I remember:

Sunshine in my soul!
Sunshine in my soul!
Sunshine in my soul, today!
Each and every day, I can truly say,
There is sunshine in my soul today!

Peace and love abide!
Peace and love abide!
Peace and love abide, today!
Each and every day, I can truly say,
There is sunshine in my soul today!

Isn't that sweet?!? Now, I don't wish to paint too rosy a picture about my experiences in the churches I grew up in; but overall, they were filled with good people with good intentions, and despite any failings I was raised to be a good, kind person. All of this came to mind this morning when someone tweeted a link to this video:

Really? Some parents taught their young son to stand in front of his congregation and sing "Ain't no homos gonna make it to Heaven", and the church was excited. I mean, Holy Ghost excited. They cheered. It seems lately there is an abundance of videos making it around the interwebs showcasing the embarrassing underbelly of some of our nation's churches. Recently, one pastor in North Carolina made a call from his pulpit to put gay and lesbian Americans into electrified concentration camps until we "die out".

Is it any wonder that people are more and more disaffected by hostile toward organized religion?

This video really saddens me. Not just for the fact that a room full of adults collectively rejoiced in hateful rhetoric. Not just because this rhetoric is coming from a child, who has been trained and is only doing what he thinks will please all the "grown-ups". But also because it's just plain heartrending to witness what types of spiritual and psychic damage adults wreak on children.

"Sunshine in my soul" teaches kids about their inherent worth and dignity as children of God. "Ain't no homos gonna make it to Heaven" teaches kids to denigrate people who are different from themselves; to strip others of any worth or dignity they might have held on to; to be judgmental and discriminating rather than loving and compassionate.

Of course, it's a privilege of parenting to determine the sort of spiritual foundation one's children will have, and I support families raising children with particular religious beliefs. What I don't support are beliefs based in fear, hatred, and ignorance, and the scarring abuse of conditioning a child to despise other human beings because of an essential quality of their existence.

It is my prayer that this child grow up in love, rather than in hate.

Proverbs 22:6 (KJV) reads, "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

I know this verse verbatim because this is one that my mother and other adults in my life loved to quote when I was a kid. I took it to mean that the foundation you lay for your children will become the essence of their being as adults, so take care what you teach them when they're young.

Other translations of scripture hint that the original meaning of this verse might have been more along the lines of "encourage children in their own natures, and when they are adults they will be their authentic selves". Could just be my imagination, but it's interesting to see how differing translations of the Bible bear out expansive understandings of the text.

In either case, please be mindful of how you treat children and of the things you teach them. View them as full human beings, despite their being very young. Who knows what this young boy will think of this video when he is older? Will he maintain the bias du jour of his family's church? Will he be ashamed and embarrassed by his blatant homophobic indoctrination? I guess we'll have to wait and see...but I certainly do hope he has some other, more positive influences and experiences in his life.

I hope that he learns that there is sunshine in his soul, as well as in the souls of people who are unlike him, and that it is up to each and every one of us to ensure that peace and love abide.

Ubi caritas et amor, deus ibi est.
Where there is kindly consideration and love, God is there.

September 11, 2001, helped solidify my UU faith

I stayed up pretty late on Monday, September 10, 2001. At 22 years old, I was a supervisor at Borders and working the closing shift the next day; there was no reason for me to go to bed early. In all likelihood, I probably went out with friends and partied. After all, that’s what 22 year-olds do, isn’t it?

But I don’t remember much of anything factual about Monday, September 10, 2001. What I do remember is my brother waking me up way too early the following morning with some stupid story about an airplane flying into one of the twin towers. At the time, I felt that my younger siblings were more of an annoyance to me than anything else — a prejudice I was privileged to hold as the eldest of our parents’ three children. So having my sleep interrupted by such an incredible claim, coming from Nemesis No. 1, just made me angry. I was much less forgiving then!

Nevertheless, he was persistent and continued to try and get me out of bed.

My father worked in midtown Manhattan then, my mother in central New Jersey. In our den, we had a decent sized television with DirecTV and a sound system appropriate for a small dance club. Now lying awake in bed, I could hear my brother and sister watching the news downstairs. I still didn’t believe that anything had happened but was curious to know what had gotten them up and watching the news, so I got out of bed and walked down the stairs into the living room.

From there I could clearly see on the screen the faces of people in shock, people in tears, people running, and a building in flames. Shortly after, I watched as the second plane flew into the first building’s twin. Despite witnessing the event, there was still a certain amount of incredulity that kept me from having any real response. It was an unreal scenario, outside the realm of the possible, and it didn’t make any sense.

Then my mother called to tell us that she was coming home from work, and that we should stay there. The phone lines into Manhattan were jammed and we were unable to get in touch with my father. And that was when everything became “for-real real”.

***

I came out to my family in a 1999 letter written specifically to them. My mother bugged me for weeks about what I wanted for my birthday — her firstborn was turning 20. I told her that what I wanted for my birthday was to give my family a gift, and that that was all I needed. It must have been quite a shock when I delivered my five-page letter, but I wasn’t there to witness it because I had left home, anxiety-ridden and with no game plan.

The letter eventually got around to revealing the fact of my sexuality, but the bulk of it served as written catharsis, finally exposing years of depression and religious angst revolving around unanswered questions, questions answered unsatisfactorily, and questions left unasked. Although it felt good to relieve the burden of a hidden sexuality, I still found it difficult to admit that I was unsure of my religious views. Unsatisfied with and even harmed by the dogma of our family’s particular brand of Christianity, and confused by much of its theology, I left the church. The only options for salvation were miserable-now-and-saved-for-eternity or content-for-now-and-damned-to-hell. I decided that I was an atheist, I didn’t need any organized religion, and my choice—my heresy—would seal my fate.

In 2000 I officially became a Unitarian Universalist. Atheism didn’t pan out, and I missed the community and the living religion only found when likeminded folks get together with common purpose. After much research, I landed in a UU church and believed I had found a new religious home. Initially, I took the introductory religious education courses offered, but didn’t really integrate myself too well into the life of the congregation. And then my nuisance of a younger brother woke me up with some story about a plane and the World Trade Center…

After the stresses of the day had waned, all my friends and family who worked in Manhattan were accounted for and I was grateful. My yearnings for the “spiritual food” my aunt insisted I needed a few years earlier began to grow, and I was eager to get more involved in Unitarian Universalism. Returning to the slightly-less-than-omniscient Internet, I stumbled across what was then a thriving group of lively UUs on the popular religion site Beliefnet.com. Using my newly inspired handle “ExPluribusUnum”, I there became acquainted with ChaliceChick, the Socinian, and several other people with whom I have enjoyed (sometimes intense) theological and ethical discussion. It was there that I first encountered the ubiquitous RobinEdgar.

I dove right into this new, exciting religious community, and was hooked. As my moniker suggested, I was convinced that human beings can coexist, and indeed that out of many nations we are one people with the same struggles and possibilities. The “9-11 attacks” were an affront to humanity itself, and in my mind the only spiritually appropriate response was to unite in godly love and combat the hatred that arises out of desperation, as we have forgotten the truth that we are all “God’s children”.

***

As 2002 began, and after a nasty car accident, I began riding New Jersey Transit’s Midtown Direct train into the City and attending services at the Fourth Universalist Society on the island’s Upper West Side. It was there that I met the Reverend Rosemary Bray McNatt, who had just begun her ministry there on Sunday, September 9; and the Reverend Nathan C. Walker, then 4th U’s interim Director of Religious Education, who lead a group for congregants in their 20s and 30s that I found most helpful.

At 30, I have now been a UU for longer than I attended the church of my teens. I love the openness, the community, the breadth of theologies, and especially the freedom (and expectation!) to question things — even God. Years later, now living in Baltimore, I can recall participating in a group at the First Unitarian Church of Baltimore called “Foundations”, in which we discussed what defines today’s Unitarian Universalism. I struggled with the concept of salvation, still carrying the baggage of heaven vs. hell in my spirit. One day, taking a break from work, I stopped to listen to some Bible radio — something I do on occasion to test, question, and strengthen my faith. Listening to the fire and brimstone preaching of this particular program, I remember being totally unattached to the rhetoric and having more of an intellectual curiosity than an emotional response. Eureka! That was the moment I truly stopped believing that God would condemn me to eternal damnation, and all I could feel was pity for the radio host. Universalism more so than (but not independent of) Unitarianism is the part of our heritage that really allows me to feel free, and to be free, awash in God’s love.

We are all one people, sharing the same little blue planet, on a common course through the universe and through history. And every year on September 11, I reflect on all of this personal history, and am convinced that becoming a Unitarian Universalist has saved me.

Eight years later we are stuck in multiple wars; and despite having elected the first Black president, tensions based on difference are heightened around the globe. Differences in race, class, ethnicity, and belief — these all make for a beautiful bouquet that should be honored and celebrated. This is something that Unitarian Universalism can do well, if we work at it.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had this to say:

Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,
adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness:
only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

Violence and hate do not bring salvation. Only the Spirit of Love and of Life can do that. Unitarian Universalism was open to me when I needed to be loved, and I am forever grateful.

That is what September 11 reminds me every year.

May we share Love and create Peace wherever we go.

Amen.