In an effort to prepare myself for Presbyterian General Assembly next month I've been reading a bunch of books about homosexuality and the Church. The ones that claim to represent the middle ground make me sad, because they all seem to believe that a "love the sinner hate the sin" approach is not a contradiction.
I’m not sure that I feel enlightened any, but it has lead to several marginal poems.
Note for non-Presbyterians: at the end of September the NZ Presbyterian church is meeting to vote on various matters, including whether homosexuals can be elders and ministers etc.
*
sin
If I let my heart slip
between the cracks of my ribcage
and slide under
the boards of the floor
If I return love with bitterness
or worse, nonchalance
If I become numb
let ice crystalise on the surface
of my skin, and push its building blocks
through my blood
If I build a wall so thick
that no tremblings of love
no tingle of affection
no skin, no kiss can reach me
Will it be enough for you
to stop
hating the sin
in me?
*
Loving the sinner
Where do you draw the line?
Was it the first crush?
Youth Orchestra, the girl who sat opposite me
her slender fingers, strong grip on the bow
the way I could always hear her note, pull it
out of the swelling of sounds.
Perhaps the movie I saw
with my best friend, and on the screen
two girls kissed. Is it that moment of revelation
when everything made sense? Or the moment immediately
after, when my best friend said one word,
"Gross!" and I shut my mouth, swallowed my secret
for several years.
What about the first time I told
my secret, that dizzy feeling, not knowing
would it change them? Our friendship?
Would it change me? Words last
longer than feelings.
Was it the first time I gave a girl a poem
filled with sun and the scent of crushed
manuka, the joy of her laughter.
My first kiss. Awkward, uncertain,
my lips too dry, my hands shaking.
Yes, we undressed one night. Is that the moment?
When we realised another person could love
all our pain?
Or after that
the breaking
and then the apology, the gentle steps
the laughter returning.
Maybe it comes later still?
If someone loves me back
so deeply we become
entangled
bodies, minds, homes, bank accounts
maybe a child?
And even later
after we name her
Maia, or Poppy May
the day we start to teach her
that God is like
a rainbow
of Love.
Is that it?
Is that the point when you’re allowed
to hate?
*
Love the sinner hate the sin
Love the sinner hate the sin
Love sinner hate the sin
Love sinner hate sin
Sinner hate sin
hate sin
hate sin
hate sin
hate
*
I like your poems. I'm a guy. I grew up in the Presbyterian Church. I'm attracted to men. But I believe that homosexuality is a sin. I LOVE gay people. It's a very difficult thing to grow up gay and feel the rejection. I know. For me, I believe that same sex attraction is a developmental issue, very deeply rooted, but not something that God created in me.
Posted by: Scott Cuzzo at August 27, 2006 04:04 AMWhew, Fi. I'm sorry you are having to spend any or your precious time on the 'hate the sin, et al' thing. I don't know where you get the energy! At 40 I already feel too old, and too sure of what I've learned from mine and other people's experiences, to give that any energy. I simply haven't found any arguments against the queer community that aren't rooted in fear and/or ignorance. And speaking of wasted energy, show me a Pope ready to teach the world how to use a condom and I'll show you a Bill Gates having to find another worthy cause. Oooo, makes my blood boil. So maybe I'm not sooo old :)
Posted by: Pamela at August 31, 2006 08:59 PM