Pssst… The Minister's Gay

Consider these words:

McConnell matter-of-factly told me he likely helped write Bush’s 2004 remarks endorsing the constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage. Even now the gay speechwriter defends that course. “I believed the president was taking a principled position, and the words he spoke on that issue were always reasonable and tolerant. That hasn’t always been the spirit of the debate, but it’s always been the spirit of George W. Bush. There was never a day I wasn’t proud of him and the vice president.”

(Full article here.)

It’s reasonable and tolerant to endorse legislation that restricts an essential human right? And you’re gay, and you’re writing the speech? Oh, and everybody knows you’re gay, since you’re bringing your boyfriend to White House activities?

If any of this makes sense to you, you’re firmly in the closet. Wait—make it stronger—you’re a mote of dust on the top shelf of the closet. But it turns out that McConnell was hardly the only gay staffer at the White House: there were more than seventy of them, a number that has surprised everybody.

By all accounts, Bush was a gracious man who, initially, was hardly the most vehemently homophobic Republican (remember Pat Buchanan?) True, two or three years into his term, he embraced the constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage, but he had appointed openly gay people and committed significant funds to combating AIDS in Africa.

Nor was he the only Republican to go to bat for gay people: there was Ronald Reagan, who as far back as 1978 came out and opposed the Briggs Initiative, which would have forbidden gay people to teach in the public schools. Here’s what a long-term Democrat said about Reagan:

“Never have I been treated more graciously by a human being. He turned opinion around and saved that election for us,” Mixner said. “We would have been in deep trouble. He just thought it was wrong and came out against it.”

Curiously, after not having thought about the Briggs Initiative for years, it’s cropped up twice in the last two days, since I spent a fair amount of time contemplating Troy Perry, the founder of the Metropolitan Community Church, a denomination that currently has 222 congregations in 37 countries.

Born in Northern Florida in 1940, Perry always felt the call to preach—his aunt had been a snake-handling pastor in another state. So he got married, got ordained, and had two kids. Then a sex partner outed him at work.

It happened in those days, and the result was predictable: he was immediately dismissed and the head of the church council threatened to tell his wife. So Perry lost his wife—whom he loved—his kids, and his job.

And if all that weren’t enough, when he finally met a guy he loved, the man dumped him, leading him to attempt suicide. After a period of depression, he went on to found his church, with a ministry specifically for LGBT folk.  

It’s always felt a little bogus to me—why should gay people want to associate with a religion that has some significant homophobic baggage? Shouldn’t we get over it, stop wanting to be accepted, stop needing to be religious? And why does it feel that starting our own church is sad, in a way?

That said, Perry has balls of the most polished brass. They burned down three churches—one incident left 32 people dead. And when the Briggs’ Initiative came up, Perry went on a 17-day hunger fast to raise the money to help defeat the measure. And every Valentine’s Day for years, he and his now-husband went down to the county clerk’s office to ask for a marriage license. When he finally got married, he came back to California and sued the state to recognize his marriage.

He’s fought every battle, and seen a number of victories; he also is a shining example of the power of one person to move mountains. And if I have not been given the gift of faith, I can admire someone who has, and who has led his life according to his beliefs. For those of us who are out and proud, it’s hard not to wonder what seventy gay men and women working in the Bush White House might have accomplished.