When Religion Gets it Right

Alan Chambers said he was sorry in a lengthy apology; here’s part of what he said.

Please know that I am deeply sorry. I am sorry for the pain and hurt many of you have experienced. I am sorry that some of you spent years working through the shame and guilt you felt when your attractions didn’t change. I am sorry we promoted sexual orientation change efforts and reparative theories about sexual orientation that stigmatized parents. I am sorry that there were times I didn’t stand up to people publicly “on my side” who called you names like sodomite—or worse. I am sorry that I, knowing some of you so well, failed to share publicly that the gay and lesbian people I know were every bit as capable of being amazing parents as the straight people that I know. I am sorry that when I celebrated a person coming to Christ and surrendering their sexuality to Him that I callously celebrated the end of relationships that broke your heart. I am sorry that I have communicated that you and your families are less than me and mine. 

Chambers was head of the largest “ex-gay” group, Exodus International, which promulgated the theory that gay people could change their sexual orientation through a deep personal relationship with God. That, coupled with “reparative therapy” would be enough. And if didn’t work? You weren’t trying hard enough, or the demon was too strongly attached to your soul.

To call it “reparative therapy,” however, is to legitimize barbarity.

So Chambers has apologized, and gone further: he has shut Exodus International down. And that leads to the question: how to forgive?

“Sorry is the cheapest coin in the vocabulary,” said a character in one of my favorite books, and I knew immediately what she meant. The amount of damage that the ex-gay movement has done is enormous; people exposed to reparative therapy are eight times more likely to attempt suicide; six times more likely to be severely depressed; three times more likely to use illegal drugs.

So sorry is not enough. What has to be done?

Two things.

I heard a TED talk recently by a South African who discussed what happened after apartheid. How was the nation to heal? How do you get over wounds like that?

The solution was a nation-wide series of reconciliation meetings, where blacks and whites, abusers and abused, came together, shared their stories and pain, listened to each other. Chambers started that process three months ago, when he sat with the people he had harmed in a church basement in Los Angeles. The event was filmed, and will be aired tonight on Lisa Ling’s “Our Americas.”

The question in my mind is whether that’s enough. For many, many years I refused to go into a church—making one exception only for St. John the Divine in New York City. Now, after years of movement, effort, and work by the Episcopalian Church, I could enter their places of worship. But I can’t think of any other church I could say that about.

Nor was I particularly harmed by the church—my parents were only nominally religious, I never took the thing seriously enough to care what they taught about homosexuality. But I had many friends who did, and who suffered gravely at the hands of organized religion. And if coming out was one of the five hardest things I’ve done in my life, I place some of the blame on the church. So yeah, I was affected; we all were.

So Chambers, you’re gonna have to do much more. You’re going to have to apologize, decry reparative therapy, travel the country giving speeches welcoming LGBT people into your church, stand up for marriage equality, start organizations, raise money for victims—in short, do a lot of actions that tell gay people, yeah, you’ve changed. We can trust you.

That was number one.

Number two?

There are people in religion who get it, and whom we should support. On of them is an Episcopalian priest, the Reverend Albert Ogle. Gay himself, he spent a lot of time advocating for marriage equality in California, where he lives, when the thought struck him: all the work he was doing in a developed country was simply making it more difficult for people in undeveloped countries.

There are 76 countries where homosexuality is still a crime. And increasingly, those countries are becoming more repressive, not less so. Why? Ogle likens it to big tobacco: as the market declines in the developing world, businesses look to new markets.

Remember the family, the super-secret organization that organizes the National Prayer Breakfast? Remember Scott Lively, the guy who went down to Uganda and spoke to members of parliament, giving them the news that the Nazi and Rwanda genocides were caused by gay people?

In addition, there’s been a flood of money given to religious groups under George W. Bush’s “faith based initiative” program.

So Ogle makes the point—is this simply a stunt, shutting down Exodus International? There’s still Exodus Global, and that’s where the real work is going on.

Ogle has set up a foundation, the St. Paul’s Foundation for International Reconciliation; here’s what he has to say:

 The Foundation was created in 2010 as an IRS 501 (c) 3 non-profit corporation and is a registered California charity.

Our focus has been on the intersection of human rights, health, education and faith, by providing resources for emerging grass roots organizations and leaders in the Global South. Local organizations are given assistance to create innovative HIV education and prevention programs, women’s development and self employment programs and providing training and education projects to build sustainable communities. Educational programs in Europe and North America seek partner congregations, foundations and donors to provide funds, technical assistance and advocacy, so that marginalized groups can be included more deliberately in their own larger communities.

In addition to the foundation, Ogle has created a website, 76crimes.org, which focuses attention on repressive countries around the world. I didn’t know that Jamaica—two islands away—is scheduled to have a mass protest against repealing the anti-buggery law on Sunday, and that the event was organized by the island’s churches.

So yes, we have to keep up the fight. And yes, we have to reach out and help the millions of people who have it worse.

Oh Yeah?

Readers of this blog will know about Doug Coe—the secretive force behind the National Prayer Breakfast.

Oh, and much more.

He makes no bones about it, though he doesn’t say much—really anything—publicly. He, and his group The Family (also called The Fellowship) minister exclusively to the rich and (especially) politically powerful. They form “cells” around congressmen and women, Coe can enter virtually any office and be received with hugs. Face time with the president? No problem! (At least with W.—don’t know about Obama….)

And he has a curious tendency to invoke Hitler as a supreme leader—a man with consummate rhetorical skills (can’t be denied….), a man with a gift for organization (true), and especially a man who starts with a handful of men and almost changes the world permanently (can’t dispute that). 

Now then, let’s move to Uganda.

Say what, you exclaim!

Bear with me.

There is in Uganda a transgendered man who is fighting—against horrific odds—against virulent homophobia. How virulent, you ask? Consider this:

Or this quote from Pepe Julian Onziema, the man adduced above:

I am here, still, in 2013, but I dread things as simple as shopping at a kiosk for groceries, because the owner has told me he doesn't sell to "such people." If I insist, he said, he will "teach me how to be normal." A full night's sleep is thwarted by the fear of a stranger who has followed me home or the neighbors who have formed a mob. My personal struggle is a small reflection of the entire LGBTI community's everyday apprehension.

That’s from an article in CNN entitled “Living Proudly in the Face of Uganda’s Anti-Gay Bill.” Here’s Onziema on the topic:

Since 2009, my community has faced the potential passage of an anti-homosexuality bill that threatens Ugandans in same-sex relationships with life imprisonment (there are conflicting reports on whether the original death penalty provision remain). This year, many Anglican Church officials and other leaders have declared the legislation's speedy passage as their New Year's resolutions, with the bill scheduled for discussion when Uganda's parliament reconvenes in February. As a transgender man, I am not safe.

I knew about this, of course, and signed an online petition against it. So did a lot of people. But the click of a mouse is a minor thing, a few minute muscles flexing, a little electronic blip going out into the world. The Ugandans may pass the bill. Onziema may end up as dead as his partner David Kato, with whom he founded SMUG—Sexual Minorities Uganda. This is the second anniversary of Kato’s…

…murder.

This would scare the bejesus out of me. How do you get that courage, that strength, to live with the constant fear of everything? A Cuban friend told me once a very simple definition of a free society. You’re in bed at two o’clock in the morning; you hear footsteps on the pavement outside your house. You yawn and go back to sleep.

That’s a free society.

Your body tenses, you sweat, you know you should run but are paralyzed.

Police state.

Well, the guy is still fighting, and still has hope. And one glimmer of hope is thrown lightly into a paragraph:

And I hope to win a U.S. lawsuit against American evangelist Scott Lively for the anti-gay terror he exported to my country.

Well, that rang a bell. We’re back to Doug Coe and The Fellowship, whose influence goes far and wide, into the little countries that no one knows about or cares about, or even knows where they are. But some of those places have minerals or other resources, and maybe even a little domestic strife, in which case a nice little weapons deal can be brokered with the (for now) leader who is, by the way, your brother in Christ. Oh, and want to sit at the president’s table for the National Prayer Breakfast? No problem!

And in fact, I knew that a group of Coe’s “fellows” had ventured down to Uganda, to talk about that ole devil, the gay menace!

Click, and I’m on Wikipedia reading up on Scott Lively. And it seems he is lively in several senses (you could see that on the horizon, couldn’t you?). I joke, but it’s not funny. Lively and company arrive in Kampala in 2009, and here’s his account.

"Thousands of Ugandans, including police officers, teachers and national politicians," reportedly attended the conference.[4] Lively and his colleagues "discussed how to make gay people straight, how gay men often sodomized teenage boys and how 'the gay movement is an evil institution' whose goal is 'to defeat the marriage-based society and replace it with a culture of sexual promiscuity.'"[4] Lively wrote days later that "someone had likened their campaign to 'a nuclear bomb against the gay agenda in Uganda.'"[4]

Nothing like thumping the Bible to stir up a little hate! And the guy is an author too (as well, by the way, as an abuser of women—he assaulted a woman in 1991, she sued, he got stuck for 31,000 bucks)!

You can guess the topic. But the title?

The Pink Swastika.

Here’s Wikipedia again:

Along with Kevin E. Abrams, he co-authored the book The Pink Swastika, which states in the preface that "homosexuals [are] the true inventors of Nazism and the guiding force behind many Nazi atrocities."[5] Several historians have questioned the book's claims and selective use of research.[6][7][8][9][10]

“Several” historians? Is there ANY historian—who doesn’t happen to be a religious nut case—who could possibly NOT question the book’s claims?

I take a pill that reliably wakes me up in the middle of the night with a craving for food. (OK—carbohydrates…) That gives me time to look into the crannies of the Internet, the places I ordinarily wouldn’t go. So I found myself spending time last night with Ruth Maier, often deemed the Norwegian Anne Frank.

An Austrian from a cultured family (father had a doctorate in philosophy and spoke nine languages), Ruth escapes to Norway, her sister—more luckily—makes it to Britain.

The footsteps on the pavement outside, one night, became her worst fear. She was deported to Auschwitz and gassed immediately.

And yes, she left behind a diary—one critic compares her writing to Hannah Arendt and Susan Sontag (wow!) And she had, it seems, a passionate affair with her soul mate—a woman called Gunvor Hofmo. They were, if my 2AM reading serves me, lovers.

Well, the Norwegian government apologized, almost exactly a year ago. Here’s more copy / paste from you-know-what….

The Holocaust came to Norway on Thursday 26 November 1942. Ruth Maier was one of the many who were arrested that day. On 26 November, just as the sky was beginning to lighten, the sound of heavy boots could be heard on the stairs of the boarding house “Englehjemmet” in Oslo. A few minutes later, the slight Jewish girl was seen by her friends being led out the door of Dalsbergstien 3. Ruth Maier was last seen being forced into a black truck by two big Norwegian policemen. Five days later the 22-year-old was dead. Murdered in the gas chamber at Auschwitz. Fortunately it is part of being human that we learn from our mistakes. And it is never too late. More than 50 years after the war ended, the Storting decided to make a settlement, collectively and individually, for the economic liquidation of Jewish assets. By so doing the state accepted moral responsibility for the crimes committed against Norwegian Jews during the Second World War. What about the crimes against Ruth Maier and the other Jews? The murders were unquestionably carried out by the Nazis. But it was Norwegians who carried out the arrests. It was Norwegians who drove the trucks. And it happened in Norway.

—Jens Stoltenberg, prime minister, 27 January 2012

There were 532 Jews deported that day.

An apology is an empty thing unless it gets backed up by something. Actually, an apology is a debt, an obligation to change, for which you will pay and struggle until the change is complete.

Half a million homosexuals were exterminated in the Holocaust. An American writes a slanderous book, piling blame on the victims. The Anglican Church of Uganda wants to rewrite and relive history.

To my knowledge, I haven’t played a part in any atrocity.

But anybody who doesn’t speak up is complicit.

I’ll borrow some words from the woman who gave me as much moral compass as I have.

“SCOTT LIVELY, GO STRAIGHT TO YOUR ROOM AND DON’T COME OUT UNTIL YOU’RE GOOD AND SORRY!”

30,000 Tragedies

“The death of one man is a tragedy,” said Joe Stalin, “the death of millions is a statistic.”

Well, he was a guy who should know. And the twentieth century had more than a handful of men who committed their share of “statistics.”

Not surprisingly, there’s an organization that got into bed with a lot of the last century’s despots, all to gain influence and broker some juicy deals.

It’s called “the family,” and it was started, I’m sorry to say, by a Norwegian immigrant in Seattle in 1935. The group has one public activity: the National Prayer Breakfast. The rest of the time they’re underground, or forming a spiritual cell around the next congressman or senator.

And they do keep busy. I know all this because I forced myself, this last weekend, to forego the jacuzzi and read Jeff Sharlet’s book, appropriately called The Family. And here’s Wikipedia on the subject.

The author Jeff Sharlet has criticized the fellowship's influence on US foreign policy. He argues that Doug Coe and the "networking" (or formation of prayer cells) between foreign dictators and US politicians, defense contractors, and industry leaders has facilitated military aid for repressive foreign regimes. Sharlet did intensive research at the Billy Graham Center, before the Fellowship Foundation archives were closed to those other than divinity scholars. Sharlet published a book about the history of the groups and their influence on US domestic and foreign policy from the 1920s to the present.[28] Sharlet in particular details the relationship with General Suharto of Indonesia in the 1970s, and with Siad Barre of Somalia in the 1980s. Also, in the archives, there are at least two nearly full boxes of documents describing the relationship with Brazil's long dictatorship of the Generals.[61]

Regarding his relationships with foreign dictators, Coe said in 2007, “I never invite them. They come to me. And I do what Jesus did: I don’t turn my back to any one. You know, the Bible is full of mass murderers.”[62]

Don’t believe me, or Sharlet? How about this guy?

“The Fellowship’s reach into governments around the world is almost impossible to overstate or even grasp,” says David Kuo, a former special assistant in George W. Bush’s Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives.

Well, great to know! Although it does appear that Coe isn’t quite as embracing to absolutely everyone. I copy and paste again from Wikipedia.

The Fellowship, through Representative Joe Pitts (R.-Pa.), redirected millions in US aid to Uganda from sex education programs to abstinence programs, thereby causing an evangelical revival, which included condom burnings.

In a November 2009 NPR interview, Sharlet alleged that Ugandan Fellowship associates David Bahati and Nsaba Buturo were behind the recent proposed bill in Uganda that called for the death penalty for gays.[75] Bahati cited a conversation with Fellowship members in 2008 as having inspired the legislation.[76]

Wonderful! And it appears that it’s not just in Somalia, Indonesia or Uganda that Coe exercises his power. Sharlet indicates that there’s virtually no office in Washington where Coe can’t drift in, pound on a few backs, gather the boys together in prayer, change public policy and broker another deal.

“In Washington, you must have a religion to get anything done,” writes Sharlet, or words to that affect. Even Hillary Clinton gets into the picture. Here she is on Coe.

Doug Coe, the longtime National Prayer Breakfast organizer, is a unique presence in Washington: a genuinely loving spiritual mentor and guide to anyone, regardless of party or faith, who wants to deepen his or her relationship to God.

Ummm, yes and no. The Family is devoted to those who have power. It’s a ministry that makes no bones about it—no money, no influence? Screw you!

The story of the family makes a good read—a shadowy man, a secret organization, evil and misdeeds, a perverted religion. I thought of it all this morning, on the trot. The death of millions is a statistic.

Is that the trouble with the gun control issue? 30,000 is just a number. But behind that number are 30,000 names, faces, lives. If we published the names, would it make it more real?

‘Let’s try,’ I decided. And went to a site that randomly generates names. So here are forty-five names—as much as will fill one page of a document with the font size set at 12.

OK—so how many pages would I need to list all 30,000 victims of gun violence annually?

Hold onto your seat.

666.

A revelation, hunh?

1.   Dona Schrom


2.   Darryl Ferriera

3.   Loraine Pietz

4.   Earnestine Kardos

5.   Mallory Mani

6.   Rae Nassar

7.   Fernando Lamborn

8.   Alana Ghoston

9.   Allan Kittinger


10.   Mathew Hoppes


11.   Jamie Vitiello


12.   Kelly Basler


13.   Jock


14.   Avis Heuser

15.   Malinda Brindle

16.   Javier Mckinsey


17.   Jessie Gowers

18.   Max Miraglia

19.   Saundra Vanderhoof

20.   Jamie Junker


21.   Cody Cassara

22.   Edwina Kilman


23.   Cody Calabria


24.   Marcie Ritts

25.   Tyrone Guard

26.   Kurt Spradling

27.   Lakisha Fasciano


28.   Kelly Mossey

29.   Avis Deasy


30.   Carlene Verge


31.   Allyson Yanes


32.   Guy Loew


33.   Ted Mariner


34.   Lonnie Bart


35.   Clinton Matthias


36.   Tanisha Bou


37.   Lorrie Kowalewski


38.   Elinor Doten


39.   Melisa Roose


40.   Jamie Jarrard


41.   Ted Mahnke


42.   Melisa Cerutti


43.   Roxie Marcial


44.   Zelma Rozar


45.   Sofia Detty