"Let Me Worship As I Am"

This was published in Newsweek magazine's "My Turn" section last week:

The very word "Christian" makes me wish I'd had a Druid spiritual awakening. In today's lexicon, Christian is equated with fanatics who need God to be as human as can be: male, full of pride and hate, war-loving and with a voting record that can only be described as shortsighted. For me to have found the answer to my spiritual hunger in the teachings of Jesus was at best highly inconvenient.

But Christianity comforts and fills me, as any good soup should. On the day I took the soup, there was a coincidental visit from a bishop from New Hampshire who was in L.A. and wanted to come to mass at St. Thomas the Apostle. His name is Gene Robinson, and he is the first openly gay and partnered bishop elected to an Episcopal bishopric. He is a slight man in person, soft-spoken and grinning ear to ear. He is no crusader in the usual sense of the word, but is in his own way a Joan of Arc, although he more resembles David Sedaris in a miter. I found his presence at my reception ceremony to be a special postcard from my Savior, if you'll forgive my self-centeredness and cheesy metaphor. I know that there were hundreds of other people at mass that day, many others being received or confirmed or even baptized. The presence of Bishop Robinson meant something different to every person there. But faith is ultimately selfinvolved at times, and sacraments and life are meant to be windows to God's grace.

As my partner's Mormon mother would say, I have a testimony. I was created by God, who works through all of his creation, and I've been gay as a handbag since birth. I wanted to wear my sisters' chapel veils at 2, had a crush on Hoss from "Bonanza" at 4 and have always known that God loves me and Jesus has lessons for me. And I am called to be Episcopalian and part of the Catholic faith, sure as Joan of Arc was called to her mission, although I'm not in drag. And I have faith that I will stand in front of the altar of God and commit my life to the man I love, with smells and bells and without secrecy. It is right to stand before God as I am, and speak my own truth. And I am grateful to have a model of simple, elegant defiance in the bishop from New Hampshire who happened to come to mass at my church one day.

Hoss instead of "Little Joe?" Well, I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all.

Click here to read the rest of the essay.