My own heart softened and I wept: A journey through inner conflict to peace
As a Friend I’ve always espoused a belief in peace, a belief that war is wrong and goes against the teachings of Jesus. Before I went off to Guilford College at the beginning of the Gulf War I was recorded as a conscientious objector at West Knoxville Friends Meeting. There was no question as to whether or not I believed in the peace testimony. Jesus was clear that no followers of his fought with a sword. It was in the Bible, so that was it!
However, I confess my heart has rarely been peaceful, but has instead been filled with rage. Beginning at a young age I was keenly aware that I was not like the other boys. In middle school I learned there was more to me than just being some weird boy who mostly played with girls: I was a “faggot.” It was in seventh grade that I learned that I was not only different, but a sinner. I was someone others despised. My self-esteem was not terribly existent. I clung to God, or the notion of God that I had. I wanted God’s acceptance. I wanted to serve him, please him, anything that would gain acceptance.
I guess that’s one of the more attractive aspects of Christianity to many. God loves a person no matter their condition, and if one is faithful, one will feel that love. Only I didn’t feel it, not really. I felt called by God to serve God early on, but it never came to fruition. When I spoke in worship, sure that I was led, it wasn’t well received. I grew increasingly frustrated with God and with Friends, and experienced more and more anger.
My beloved left his body two years ago and I had just buried him when his parents decided to challenge his will in court in order to exhume him. He was gay and Quaker, and neither did they accept. I hadn’t even passed the acute stages of grieving before I went directly into battle mode.
I did ask for prayers for both me and my partner’s parents, and I even prayed for them occasionally. Yet truthfully, I grew angrier towards them and then towards heterosexual people in general. I found myself in such a lowly condition that I often became visibly angry, cursing my partner’s parents, myself, or anyone and anything who aggravated me. Was I against the Iraq war? Surely! Was I spiritually and emotionally peaceful and non-violent? Not at all.
I realized my condition when I sat in a meeting for worship at the FLGBTQC Midwinter Gathering in North Carolina. We were hosted by Friends from Friends United Meeting, Conservative Friends and Friends General Conference. Among us were Friends who had pastors, choirs, pianos, organs and little to no silence, Friends who conserved a Quaker Christian theology and silent worship, and Univeralist Friends who may or may not believe in God. All of these different Friends welcomed us as we were.
I suppose the realization that I felt safe as our first worship began was the first jolt. I hadn’t realized that I was feeling unsafe! From the silence, a Friend spoke of witnessing an audience laugh at evangelical Christians in a movie. He felt, though, that they were laughing at Jesus. “How have we let this happen, Friends?” he asked us. I felt immediately convicted. I had gone from a person who loved Jesus to a person who mocked his very name. I had come to loath hearing his name from anyone with a Southern or Midwestern accent. A person could talk of his salvation and I would scoff at him: “Saved from what? Gossiping? You still hate people like me!” I demeaned those who called themselves Christians, and even Jesus himself. These people were too much like my partner’s parents. I dismissed Christians as “all the same,” and the religion had become increasingly meaningless and offensive to me.
I wasn’t alone. In worship Friends spoke about pain, then about anger resulting from pain. At a semi-programmed worship a Friends pastor delivered a sermon at one meeting which challenged us who are wounded and angry and afraid to love, though he confessed not having all the answers on how to love. I was reminded that the Apostle Paul wrote about being broken and in that brokenness being able to hear God a bit more clearly. I couldn’t ignore that I was being ministered to throughout the weekend, but it was what came in the silence of the worship that changed everything: the Divine transformed my heart.
The Light revealed the condition of my partner’s parents. I’ve tried articulating what that condition is, but I fail each time. When I sensed his mother’s heart and I felt her condition in worship, my own heart softened and I wept. I released my anger to the Light, and so far, still only a few months later, my heart remains tender. The fruits have been evident: I felt freed to ask Friends to help me fight this court battle, but at the same time to pray with me holding my partner’s parents in the Light. I’ve even found myself defending my partner’s parents when people talk about how horrible they must be. They are not horrible. They are hurting. I can still fight for justice without fighting the people. And, knowing my own condition of being afraid and angry, I could give that up to God, whatever God is, and trust that I wouldn’t be alone.
It was trust that led me to marry my soul mate, and I didn’t take my wedding vows with my partner lightly. It was with Divine assistance that I tried to be loving and faithful to him. That anger and fear had become an obstacle to trusting the Spirit was a shame, even a sin, but I know this experientially: that through worship in a community of people who I trust I have been able to hear the Divine. In worship, the Light was able to shine on the shadows in my soul, exposing the lurking demons. By naming them, they lost their power. Through worship my angry and fearful soul has been baptized. I know what Jesus meant when he told Nicodemus that we must be born again. I know a peace that I never have before. I pray I can keep it. I trust that Friends will help me to do so.
Kevin-Douglas G. Olive is the newly appointed clerk of Ministry and Worship at Homewood Friends Meeting in Baltimore, where he is a French teacher in Baltimore public schools. He serves on Central Committee and Executive Committee of FGC, and is active with Friends for Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender and Queer Concerns (FLGBTQC).
