“Oh, honey, that’sallwe have,” I say, my laughter echoing through the room.
She sips her coffee and cocks her head. “Please, go on.”
“Well, as you just heard, many of us have experienced nothing in this world but hate, like Jesus,” I say. “We often have no family, no love, no respect, no rights, no acceptance, and yet—yet!—we find a way through to the other side. In spite all of this hatred, we emerge from our cocoons as these remarkable creatures. And the one thing we have to guide us to this new place is faith, not only in ourselves and our community but in a higher power. Did you hear the power of our people this morning? How else do you think we survive?”
I study Trudy.
“You live in a small town...”
“That’s not fair,” Trudy interrupts.
“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. I grew up in a small town, too, but your view of the world is narrow. I would guess you are largely surrounded by those who, for the most part I’m sure, all think, act and believe much as you do. I understand. We can all start to live in a bubble where we just want to feel safe from change. But that is not the world today. It is big and diverse, filled with many different characters we need to make our story complete. The world today is a rainbow of different races, religions, orientations, beliefs. Not one is right. Not one is wrong. But when you experience that, your worldview changes. Yousee people who may be different from you not as a category or a group but simply as people.”
“But my faith has taught me that how you live is wrong. It is written.”
“And everything that is written has been rewritten. Welcome to Hollywood!”
Trudy doesn’t laugh. I try again.
“Do you ever watch an old rerun ofJohnny Carsonon social media and cringe at the way he talked to women? What we thought was okay at one time isn’t okay later on. We evolve as a society.”
“Some things are set in stone,” Trudy says firmly.
“I believe that gay men and women have always been the target of hate, but I also believe that we’re reading our own cultural bias into a text that is talking about different things. Does that make sense?”
She shakes her head. “Such as?” she asks.
“Such as sexual violence and the Ancient Near East’s stigma toward violating male honor, for one. Such as a society that is nervous about retaining its healthy family lineages, and the sexual exploitation of young men by older men,” I say. “I know I can’t convince you, or anyone else, to believe otherwise, but I am saying we choose to focus on those passages of the Bible that are the easiest to use to discriminate.”
I reach over and pull the collar of Trudy’s top.
“Excuse me,” I say, gently exposing the label. “Just as I thought. You should be killed right now for wearing a cotton blend. According to Leviticus, that is.”
She gasps. “You’re good.”
“I’ve studied the Bible,” I say, “but I’ve also just studied people. Yes, I am a Christian, but there are many things I hate about Christianity. I am a gay man, and yet there are many things I don’t like about our community. I am a Midwesterner, and there are many things that appall me about the Midwest. But I am allof these things, Trudy, and they have made me who I am. We are all flawed in God’s eye, but we probably judge ourselves more harshly than He ever will. I cannot hate. So I give. Usually too much of myself, as I am doing with you right now. I give so much of myself to others, in fact, that I’m too much for most men. I get trampled on for being an open book. It’s why I’m single. But I have come to terms with that in this life. I have found love in my friends, community and work. I have found love through my faith.”
“I’m so worried about my brother,” she finally says. “It feels like he’s hiding something.” Trudy looks at me. “Do you ever pray for Teddy?” she asks. “I pray for him every day.”
“I always pray for Teddy. But he doesn’t need it,” I say. “I think he’s good with God.”
Her expression changes to bewilderment. “How?” she asks. “He drinks too much. He’s so angry and mean. So conflicted and flawed. He always has been.”
“How could he be any other way with all he’s endured?” I ask. “Just like those stories you heard today. Teddy is brutally honest, not only with himself but also the world. He is fully transparent, whereas most people are not. God knows exactly where Teddy stands, and I think He likes that quite a bit.”
“Do you pray for yourself?” Trudy asks. “I pray for myself even more these days.”
I shake my head. “Rarely. Perhaps only for guidance. Otherwise, it seems so self-serving. I want my actions to serve as my words. My faith has taught me to always try to be a better person.”
“Is that why you went against Teddy and invited us to stay?”
“You just looked like someone who could use a friend right now.” I smile at her. “Now, let’s go get a decent cup of coffee.”
Sid
I wipe the fog from the bathroom mirror with my towel and stare at my naked reflection.
I gaze uncomfortably upon the topographic map of my life.
