Keeping the Faith

When you’re visible, it means others can’t pretend you’re not there. Being visible, though, can make you a target. Vanessa Collier’s story is the latest in a story about queer visibility.

I’m sure you’re familiar with the story of Vanessa Collier’s funeral being disrupted in Lakewood, CO — the family refused to remove pictures from her memorial video of her kissing her wife. Let me repeat that just for effect: pictures of her kissing her wife. The family had to remove the entire funeral procession, casket and all, to a nearby funeral home to continue.

Imagine, in the middle of grieving for this young woman, her family and friends are forced to defend themselves and her life. My friends were close to this young woman and were devastated by their treatment at New Hope Ministries. They held a press conference to tell their story and it made national news — George Takei even posted about it!

What struck me was how differently you can look at the same facts.

Fact: The church asked the family to remove pictures of her kissing her wife.

An argument in favor of the family: New Hope
knew she was queer when they booked the funeral. The family video wasn’t porn; it was the story of her life, which included pictures of family, friends, her wife, and her children. It’s like any other memorial video!

An argument from the church side: Although New Hope may have known of her sexual preferences, they shouldn’t be forced to promote it by showing those pictures in their sanctuary. That’s a sin. She can be whatever she wants outside of church as long as New Hope staffers don’t have to see it.

While I wasn’t surprised, per se, I was disappointed by the story. Over the years, I’ve always been struck by how blatantly hypocritical some peoples’ behavior can be with regard to their knowledge of someone’s sexuality. Churches in particular seem to be where this behavior has been ingrained in people without a lot of pushback.

Real-life examples: Everyone knows the choir director is queer — he and his friend have been living together for 20 years. The spinster school teacher that attends every Sunday? Never mind her “lady-friend” that picks her up afterward. If someone dies of AIDS, as long as you say pneumonia, you can have your funeral at the church. People accept you as long as you don’t “flaunt” your lifestyle in front of everybody.

Queers of faith are some of my favorite people. Some, finding themselves in churches that didn’t accept them, found a church that did and lived very happily among their church family. Others stay in a place where everyone may not welcome them while remaining themselves, regardless of others’ opinions. Still, others find so many reasons why they attend a specific church and if all they have to do is omit one part of their lives, so be it.

You choose how visible you want to be and what’s important to you. It’s your life, Sugar.

If you’re queer and involved in church leadership, as I was at one time in my life, you find opportunities to fight the fight of visibility on a more regular basis. In the past, I’ve even attended protests at churches with people from my church to fight against edicts like “You can be queer, sure – you just can’t be a practicing queer.” In other words, if you’re celibate, we don’t need to judge you and can continue to like you.

What I hope will grow out of this moment in time is a re-dedication of persons of faith to reach out to show that this behavior doesn’t represent all churches. I want people to remember that being visible in all aspects of your life will create opportunities to stretch those understanding-and-acceptance muscles of people around you. I also want people to remember: If you’re pointing fingers at the people judging your community, then become part of a solution. Otherwise, you’re just perpetuating the division.

Let’s be a visible beacon for change, my friends.