Let the church say “Amen.”

I  dusted off my blog this evening because Twitter only allows 140 characters and Facebook is not suited for long, rambling remarks.

Especially when it comes to talk about the black church and gay marriage.

President Obama declared for the first time on May 9, 2012 in a White House interview with ABC’s Robin Roberts that he supports same-sex marriage, after nearly two years of saying that his views on same-sex marriage were “evolving.” Reactions to the president’s remarks have been swift, predictable, and for the most partisan.

At least one well-known black minister has not hesitated to voice his disappointment with the president’s comments. Says Rev. Jamal Bryant of Baltimore, Maryland, the president has some explaining to do to his black church constituency.

I disagree. Obama doesn’t have any explaining to do to the black church about his position on same-sex marriage. I co-sign my colleague’s, Leslie Callahan, comment on her Facebook page reminding us that Obama is the president of the United States and not the pastor of the United States.

While I am proud there’s a black man in the White House I am not one of more than fourteen thousand fans of the “I love it when I wake up in the morning and Barack Obama is President” Facebook Fan page.  Can’t do it. But neither do I want to wake up in the morning with the public thinking Jamal Bryant’s comments represent the best (or only thing) response black clergy have to Obama’s comments on same-sex marriages. (In fairness, I should disclose that I know Jamal Bryant personally and I am disappointed with his comments, though no entirely surprised.)

I’ve already stated on this blog  that I do not think being gay is an abomination. I’m sure I did once. But I don’t anymore. And while I’m still evolving  on the issue of gay marriages, I don’t oppose it enough to clobber its supporters nor do I support it enough to blast its opponents.  Not trying to be coy or clever. It’s just that I am fierce about what matters to me and not easily baited by topics that don’t strike a match in me.

Until now I’ve been content to stay out of the gay marriage fray. Until I read Jamal Bryant’s claim that the POTUS has some explaining to do to his black Christian constituency.

Same sex marriage, in my opinion, is not a biblical or theological issue; it’s a social and political one.  Traditional and conservative Christianity is going to lose on this issue.

I disagree with those who see legalizing same sex marriage as a threat to the bible, Christianity, or the institution of marriage. I agree that legalizing same sex marriage is a threat to thousands of years of tradition. But that isn’t a bad thing, mind you. I would be a slave, and a barefoot and pregnant one at that, if tradition hadn’t been questioned or challenged. Not to mention that lots of other important scientific knowledge we now embrace would not be known to us if we’d stayed tied to the biblical cosmos.

The Bible meant well in its edicts on human sexuality. But not many of us, including Rev. Bryant, would not want to live in biblical times. And not just because there was no running water back then. We wouldn’t want to live in the moral and social universe it advocates where wearing glasses disqualifies you from serving at God’s altar, contact with a menstruating woman makes you unclean, and adulterers must be stoned to death.  Yet I understand what made our biblical ancestors want to contain this powerful, chaotic force known as human sexuality. But biblical teachings on human sexuality (if teachings are what we can call the inchoate biblical passages that deal with sexual issues) don’t serve us well today. We know too much. (The same laws probably didn’t serve people well back then either.) Gay love is as old and tenacious as heterosexual love. And love and sexual desire have a tendency to make a mockery of rules.  Human sexuality is powerful, confusing, dangerous, many times beautiful, most often messy. Laws are good, but laws are limited.

Is marriage ordained by God? On those days when the marriage is going well, I like to think that God brought me and Martin together.  But on those days when it’s a hot mess and we’re both looking for the exit sign, well, we will both probably say that we should have ceded to the many signs (and friends) that said  a marriage between the two of us was doomed. In other words, marriage is ordained by God when it’s a good marriage. But when it’s a hell hole you have every reason and right to exit when it’s wrong for everyone involved. Here’s what those of us who support same sex unions have got to get across to our Christian friends who think of same sex unions only in sexual terms, and that is that same-sex unions are not simply about sex and power, but love and commitment. Why are we so quick to to tell LGBTQ individuals seeking the rights and recognition of their unions that marriage is ordained by God when many of us don’t honor our own marriage vows or turn a blind eye to the indiscretions of our friends?

Those of us who are products of the 60s and 70s never thought we’d live long enough to see the day when “liberal” would be a bad word. Many of the rights and privileges women and minorities enjoy today are the results of the tenacious agitation of liberal-minded people over the centuries.  But now “liberal” has been replaced by “progressive.” So, I guess I’m a progressive Christian if progressive means I am willing to question tradition, even my own cherished tradition and refuse to embrace any part of tradition that flies in the face of what Jesus ultimately lived and died for: unselfish concern for the other; honesty, integrity, equality, and fidelity; and sacrificial love.

What I’m sure of is that I’m no libertarian nor am I a sex positive feminist. I don’t believe “anything goes.”  Civilized societies have a duty to protect its citizens from the violent impulses of other citizens.  Even if the laws prove imperfect and don’t put an end to the acts they criminalize. Victimized sex can not be tolerated.  Rape is unacceptable. Pedophilia is indefensible. (Even though the Bible often soft-pedals rape and is downright silent about pedophilia, something Christians never talk about.) 

Speaking as a former Pentecostal who remains Pentecostal in her heart, I say this in sum to my fellow conservative Christians: the train has already left the station. The POTUS does not owe all of us in the black church an explanation for changing his mind on gay marriages. The president is a politician and a Christian. And the politician knows that the momentum is on the side of legalizing same sex marriage. Even if it doesn’t happen in this latest round of state votes. Same sex marriages will be legalized in my life time (and I’m a cancer survivor so you know I’m on slippery ground here).  Social change has always preceded legal and religious change: women’s suffrage, reproductive rights, interracial marriage, and black civil rights movement.

Black Christians will have to find another sign to point to as proof that despite the fact that there’s a black man in the White House, the world is still coming to an end.

Likewise, not every daughter (or son) looks forward to Mother’s Day. If your relationship with your mother is complicated, or you’re estranged from her, or if she’s no longer with you because of death or she no longer even knows your name because she has Alzheimer, waking up to a day called “Mother’s Day” can be painful.

Such reality was driven home to me recently on a listserv I belong to where one of the members on the list wrote honestly about not looking forward to church this Sunday. As you can see, her complaint was not about Mother’s Day only. It’s about the way the black church celebrates mothers and motherhood on that day.

Others on the listserv weighed in prompting me to ask permission to post for Something Within readers the provocative conversation about motherhood, Mother’s Day, and the church’s clumsy way of talking about motherhood that ensued.

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With Mom gone 7 years, mothers day is a mixed bag for me. I’ve got some incredibly wonderful memories of the day but find that since Mom has died, i often avoid church (black or otherwise) on Mothers Day now. I thought i’d send a shout out to you all to see what you think of the ways black churches celebrate Mothers Day.

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Like many of the people weighing in, I’ve gotten to where I wince during Mother’s Day. My own mother died just before Mother’s Day weekend, 2002. I preached her funeral the Saturday before Mother’s Day. And she was my greatest theological inspiration and most quoted person. When I had to preach Mother’s Day in youth church 3 years later, I started the sermon out with “I don’t like Mother’s Day celebrations.” I talk about the joy and pain of being a mother, the joy and pain of being a daughter, the fact that not everyone in the room had “warm, fuzzies” about their moms, some didn’t know their moms, some moms were strung out, etc. The altar filled up with young people wanting to pour out their pain around “mother loss” and “mother grief” and “mother struggles.” It lasted longer than the sermon as they prayed, cried, repented, went to find their moms and beg forgiveness, accepted the notion that God had provided many mothers and aunts and cousins and sisters and friends to help shepherd them into womanhood and manhood. Upstairs, of course, the service was sugary sweet about mothers.

I don’t know what that says, but there it is. I will be with a friend on a beach of Mother’s Day. I don’t expect to hear from my younger son and grandchild because he doesn’t celebrate anything anymore. I will hear from my older son. I will feel loss and joy.

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I think also for me such celebrations tend to be insensitive to women
who have lost mothers, lost children, or who are not biological
mothers. And this is just symbolic of how they are looked upon beyond
the mother’s day celebration. Also while we emphasize that every
father is not a dad or vice versa, we do not emphasize that mothering
is about more than giving birth, more than being an incubator. Maybe
I’ve become too cynical. I am planning to become a foster or adoptive
mother soon– it’s a scary thing as I get closer to the reality of my
promise. Maybe mother’s day celebrations should intentionally
celebrate acts of mothering in the village and should be a platform
for extending our mothering impact on the global village.

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My mother has been dead for over twenty-five years, but I can’t say that’s the reason church Mother’s Day celebrations don’t get under my skin the way others describe. I have fond memories of my mother for sure, but not a lot. But I’ve learned not to resent other women’s Hallmark Card rhapsodies about their moms nor gag when the church goes off on one of its paeans to motherhood. I went to church on Mother’s Day when I wasn’t someone’s mother and still show up now that I am someone’s mother. I go, in part because I’m a woman who goes to church, but also because church is where lots and lots and lots of black mothers/black women are on Sundays. And as a womanist I relish the presence of black women and believe that despite my mother’s flaws there’s something healing and comforting about losing myself on Mother’s Day in a sea of black mothers asking God’s help to mother from a place of healing.

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What do you think Something Within readers? What do you think about “Mother’s Day”?

Let’s be honest:  “Mother’s Day” has strayed from is original anti-war movement origins. Today’s celebration has nothing to do with appealing to the justice loving nature of women in general and mothers in particular. Maybe it should. Perhaps we need to go back to the roots of the celebration.

What do you think? What does “Mother Day” mean to you? How is the day celebrated at the churches you attend?

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Our matriarch of justice passed this morning.

Dorothy I. Height (March 24, 1912 – April 20, 2010) who fought for most of her life on behalf of women and blacks, died at the age of 98.

The last time I saw Ms. Height she was in her wheel chair, poised, eagle-eye alert, wearing her signature church lady wide brim hat, and in full control of everyone and everything.

President of the National Council of Negro Women for more than 40 years, advising presidents from Dwight Eisenhower to Bill Clinton on both civil and gender rights, Ms. Height helped advance landmark legislation on school desegregation, voting rights and equality in the workplace.

She was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1994, and the Congressional Gold Medal in 2004. Make no mistake about it, Ms. Height was among the coalition of African American leaders who pushed civil rights to the center of the American political stage in the years after World War II, often standing alone as a woman amidst a den of black male preachers, challenging sexism, decrying foolishness, negotiating between factions, calling egos on the carpet, making deals without losing her soul, and calling movements to moral order.

I remember the first time I met Ms. Height. She called me on the phone to invite me to speak at a NCNW meeting. I couldn’t believe it was Ms. Dorothy Height on the other line. It was 9pm where I was, 10pm there in her office in DC.  She was in her 80s back then. “Ms. Dorothy, what are you doing in your office this time time of night?” I asked incredulously. “Where else do you suppose I’m  supposed to be, Renita?” “Yes Mam.” I answered.

A few weeks ago after speaking at Howard University Rankin Chapel I was greeted by my mentor and friend, Dr. Marian Wright Edelman who mentioned that she was off to visit Ms. Dorothy who was in the hospital.  “How’s she doing” I asked. “Ms. Dorothy is doing what she’s always doing –even from her sick bed– in charge and giving out orders to everyone.” We laughed.  “She ordering even you around, Dr. Marian?” I asked. “Child, all any of us can say in reply to anything Ms. Height tells us is, ‘Yes Mam. That includes me!’”

Yes Mam.

You have to admire a woman who didn’t mind taking care of business.