Communion

The United Church of Christ made a crucial statement in favor of human rights at a time when some members of Congress are attempting to pass an amendment banning same-sex marriage.

It’s a sad indictment on religion that this is such a big story, you would think that religious institutions would have blessed the concept of equal rights for all generations ago. [...]

Several major religious denominations allow same-sex unions, but do not give them the same status as marriage, including the Episcopal Church, with about 2.3 million members, the Evangelical Lutheran Church, with 5 million members, and Reform Judaism, with 1.7 million members.

These religious organizations should take the next step forward and demonstrate they are serious about “family values” by officially recognizing same-sex unions. Gay couples should not be relegated to a second-class status, a gay union is as legitimate as a heterosexual union. (source)

Many people come and go from the relationship they have with their church. Some people never have a relationship with a church. Some don’t believe in God. Others have more than one God they believe in. And, in each one of those scenarios, people view communion differently.

I have seen so many people come to church reading The Bible from cover to cover as though they are looking for life’s deeper meaning; why they are here; why bad things happen. I’ve come to realize from so many things in life that there is no deeper meaning than us. And, unfortunately, there is no “why”.

Communion
1. The act or an instance of sharing, as of thoughts or feelings.
2. Religious or spiritual fellowship.
3. A body of Christians with a common religious faith who practice the same rites; a denomination.

My understanding of communion comes from the second definition, with an emphasis on spiritual fellowship. That is the deepest understanding that anyone will ever come to the understanding of God.

I had the strangest experience years ago in San Francisco. It was a cold night. There was an AIDS march from The Castro to City Hall. I went on the march alone. I walked down to The Castro, a short ten minute walk from our apartment.

There, I was met with thousands of mostly gay and lesbian brothers and sisters who were about to start on the march towards City Hall. I had lost many of my friends to AIDS, and many of my friends were dieing at the time. I went on the march for fellowship and communion. You think that is irrational and radical? Tell that to Jesus. He held communion and fellowship all the time with the most scandalous of characters and in the oddest of places.

We arrived at City Hall. There were so many of us. Yet, I felt so alone. So very alone. People were giving speeches and it was very emotional. The mist from the night breeze hit my face and felt like tiny needles piercing my skin. I was overwhelmed by the hopelessness of AIDS and what we were up against. We were dieing and it seemed that nobody cared. People were crying as different people talked on stage and as people embracing one another. I was by myself and I was overcome with emotion. I dropped to my knees, closed my eyes, and asked for strength for my friends, and to know what the answer was to this problem.

Out of nowhere, I felt this hand on my shoulder. I was startled and look up to see this very handsome man looking down on me. No words were spoken. I stood up, and looked him in the eyes. I was greeted by this very warm and accepting smile. His eyes met my eyes. With no words, he put his arms around me and held me tight. I wept. He whispered in my ear, “You are not alone,” as if he had read my thoughts. Then he said, “Remember me.”

I didn’t want to let go because I felt acceptance at that moment. I focused my attention to the stage for a brief second and turned around to utter the first words to this friend that was there. But, in that brief second, he was gone, as if he evaporated into thin air.

I went home on the subway. I took the Church Street train up to Delores Park, and walked the one block to our apartment. Kent was inside and asked how the gathering was. I asked him, “Do you believe in angels? I think I met one tonight.”

That is communion.

It’s a sad indictment on religion that this is such a big story, you would think that religious institutions would have blessed the concept of equal rights for all generations ago.

It is a sad indictment on religion that, after saying that homosexuals were psychologically unable to foster long-lasting relationships, that religion itself is unable to psychologically deal with the fact that homosexual couples want to be part of the fabric of society and religious blessings.

In all honesty, I too find this concept to be quite vexing. There was a time in my life that I wanted nothing to do with “straight society”. It was the time when the tourist buses would come to The Castro to see the freaks and take pictures of the queers, all from the safety of their buses - never venturing out into our neighborhood to see what we were really about. We would, in turn, accommodate them by pulling down our pants and mooning them, as if it were a ritual.

Did this help our cause? No. But helping our cause was not the hot issue. Our brothers were dieing for Christ’s sake. As far as we were concerned, these tourists and the rest of society could go fuck themselves.

That was then. Not really so long ago. It astonishes me how things have changed. I want to say, “... how far we’ve come ...”, but that implies that there was something wrong with where we were. There was nothing wrong with where we were. We were just in different places.

But now, at this point in time, with so many of our brothers dead, we want to come home. Home means that we want to belong to the embodiment of man.

It is sad that religion is the last to understand what true communion is about. Communion is acceptance. Communion is coming home.