broken open again

Last night we watched Dangerous Living: Coming Out in the Developing World. It was particularly poignant to witness the impact of colonial rule. (The British imported laws against homosexual acts, along with their particular anti-gay language and approach to homosexuality, as well as to gender. Leave it to people more expert than me to describe the history of colonial rule and its impact on culture and society.) It was also very sad to hear about the violence and fear tactics used to silence gay and lesbian people in places like Namibia, Sudan, Honduras, Egypt, India, the Philippines, etc. Often to the point that leaders had to emigrate unwillingly to the US, Canada, and elsewhere. Watching these things, and listening to my partner share his thoughts, I was again reminded of my misguided desire to erase difference by trying to force hope, or by believing I understand more than I actually do. If you've seen Trembling Before G-d, there are similarities. In the first film, it was a forced choice between sexuality and nationality (both of which are intimately tied together). Choose sexuality, and face violence and exile. Choose nationality and face violence, deadly secrecy, and real paranoia. In the second film, the forced choice was sexuality and spirituality (which are also intimately tied together). Choose sexuality, and face exile and separation from the divine as you understand it in ritual and community. Choose spirituality, and face excruciating guilt and separation from the divine in human relationships and touch.

Oh, and while we're at it - if you choose nationality or religion, then you face scorn from the privileged gays and lesbians who have faith in an unquestioned culture of outness (not that I'm against outness, but the call to "come out wherever you are" must take into account the complexity of human relationships, community, and life choices). On the other side, if you choose sexuality, you're expected to be grateful that the US or that some other church or denomination has accepted you, under false assumptions that we in the US or liberal religion are somehow more advanced or enlightened.

Here is where I return to the context thing: Such profound separation and disconnect are not in my experience. Sure, I could point to similar experiences or pathways to empathy. But there is value in allowing the difference to stand - untrampled by my efforts to "fix" it.

This morning at Care Through Touch, one of my massage clients was telling me about his experience being homeless, and how it has created a separation in his spirituality - without a sense of home, he has difficulty finding a private space for worship and prayer. Rather than trying to close the gap, I tried to sit with his experience, in acceptance of the toll it has taken, and the depth of despair and height of hope he expressed for change.

It was a religious moment - not the kind where you see God, or you start crying or light comes down and impregnates you, but the kind that works like poetry, unfolding a glimpse of the mystery and magic that has always been there. It is marveling at the human spirit's ability to mold horrible experiences into stories of survival without hiding the anger, fear, and sadness.

If that makes any sense. It was one of those days.