Tag: community

Breaking down shame and guilt for Lent


Once again, Broadway breaks from tradition this Lenten season. Instead of the usual giving up of chocolate or alcohol, we’ve asked people to face the shame or guilt in their lives that holds us back from being our full selves. We’ve decorated the church with barbed wire as a solemn reminder of our journey together — wrapped around the pulpit, the ends of the pews, the Communion Table. Wow. Barbed wire! (Hiding Out from God)

To make this more than just a gimmick, we had a powerful First Sunday of Lent. The ministers started off the service asking us to take a blank piece of paper, and think about shame or guilt in our lives that is holding us back…is plaguing our self-image. We wrote or drew that on the piece of paper during a prayerful silence, and then walked to the front of the church and placed it in a box. I call it the God box. Our collective shame and guilt points stay there throughout our Lenten journey, and at the end, the box will be destroyed. Setting aside any overtly Christian symbolism, it’s a pretty powerful exercise to face, accept and walk through things that may still hold me down. And the Spirit moved me to bring forward a clear and present danger…but before I go there, let me tell you how the service went from there.

We had a gospel choir from Grand Rapids, MI visiting – for Calvin College. As people started to walk up the silence transitioned into song. “I Am.” I heard this song the night before at their concert. And as I sat there Sunday morning, having faced the shame still hanging over my life – having been brought to the surface through recent events, including the Christian concert the night before – I started crying…ok, sobbing.

I thought I had dealt with these demons from my past before, and their hold on me had been shattered. But I realized that even today, at 45, with all the self-awareness I muster, there are still some dark clouds over my soul that need work. I was crying partly because of the pain and shame I felt, but also because of the joy I had knowing that the first step is realizing I have a problem…and through awareness comes acceptance, and the chance to overcome the bondage a little more with each step along life’s journey. The joy of freedom, fullness, and life commingled with the pain of past hurts and rejection. Bittersweet.

And that moment gave me hope for this Lenten season like you can’t imagine. So before we go any further, listen to this song. Thank you to Dr. Sawyer and her band of angels, in their blue gospel robes, singing out proudly and loudly. Hmmmm…love me some gospel music.

I’ve taken some liberties to remove some of the overtly Christian parts of his lyrics that don’t fully resonate with me. But his larger message brings me hope and healing. I hope others may find similar comfort by listening beyond the Christian dressing, because of a similar source of our shame as GLBT men and women, rejected by hardcore bible thumping Christians who lack the necessary compassion and acceptance that I’ve found at Broadway. I can’t honestly say I believe the whole doctrine as gospel, but see it as another way of telling the story of our common humanity, our connectedness and our need to find community and connection. So for me, this is a song about those friends around me who have stood by me, seen my wholeness and possibility even when I couldn’t; who held my hand, who listened to my pain, and showed me truth and beauty and possibility.

“In the pain is a plan… How do you do? I am human; now I believe, not who I was, but still not what I shall be. (A friend) found me and gave me a name, things I’ve desired have changed. But inside you’ll see, it’s still broken pieces…deep in me reaches for you (my friend)…though I may fall, you stand by my side. You speak (truth and comfort) and gone is the weight of my mistakes. I am so far from perfect, I thought life is worthless, until you showed me who I am.  Not here by mistake…”

I Am, by Kirk Franklin

So my shame, even today, is about being gay.

Though I know there is nothing to be ashamed of, growing up in a heterosexist world that too often tells me the opposite story, I’ve managed to internalize some of that homophobia.  Four years at college at the hands of an ultra-right wing Christian cult didn’t help: they tried to make me straight. I went thru ex-gay ministries (which don’t work!), and even attended Homosexuals Anonymous – a 12+2 step program to help people overcome their homosexuality, as if it’s on the same level as an addiction to crack cocaine or pornography.  And when I finally “found myself” again at 22, and came out of the closet a second time…I lost all of those “deep Christian friendships” from school, because they couldn’t associate with me anymore.  I even got a handwritten letter from my pastor and friend Ted Jungkuntz, telling me how he “had no other choice” but to turn his back on our friendship, because he couldn’t “hang with me” anymore as a gay man.  I lived with this man, his wife and his family for a year…sang songs after dinner while washing dishes…shared deep, dark secrets…and in the blink of a judging eye, it was all gone.  Phil Armbruster, gone.  John Graves, gone.  Dozens of men I shared community with, and summer households with…vanished.  Paul Dull, the one who probably did the most damage to my psyche as a young, influential college-aged man…turned his back on me.

So, like many gay men, it was YEARS before I could think about entering a house of worship again.  I now know the difference between religion and spirituality – and find wholeness in the latter, because I know in my heart I’m a physical, emotional, intellectual AND spiritual being.  But the pain and shame and brokenness from the former still hangs over my head.  I realized last weekend, as I listened to the stories of faith from the Calvin Gospel Choir, that the dark cloud of shame came over me, expecting the same level of rejection and judgement from this group of “strong, faithful Christians” that I experienced from the Word of God Community and University Christian Outreach.

I realize, of course, that this has now become my own internal prejudice about “Christians,” which I have to be careful of less I lump all people of faith into the same boat as Ted and Phil and Paul.  And even with these men, I realize that until I’m able to forgive them, I let their power hang over me even today.  Damn.  More work to do this Lent.

And, as I’ve already written, some 20 years later, the hatred and rejection of my grandfather still tugs at my heart with sadness.  But again, that’s on him – his weakness and narrow-mindedness.  It doesn’t mean I’m the one who has something to be ashamed of, as a gay man, any more than women or blacks have to feel shame for past civil injustices, supported by the same bible fundamentalism that judges gay and lesbian people today.  In this, we share a common humanity, a common pain…and ultimately, a common victory.

So, since this weekend of revelation when I wrote down “Word of God,” “UCO,” and the pink triangle on my piece of paper…I’ve listened over and over to the song “I am…” as well as one more song from my past, both of which do bring comfort and relief…reminding me that there is freedom from this bondage, as soon as I’m ready to let go.

Thank you to my friend Matt McCoy who introduced me to this song of Blessing…for the first time in a long time, I found a new truth I could believe in about myself, about who I love…and how it’s exactly what God has planned for me.

“Who I love is exactly what God has planned.  Just try to remember, I’m still your baby, your blood, have your eyes, have your smile.  I’m sorry this hurts you, I’m sorry this numbs you.   But I’m not ashamed of this fire I’ve inflamed; I was given this gift to love from heaven’s hands.  Don’t abandon me now for loving another man.  All I ask is in time, you’ll give me your Blessing.”

My grandfather is dead, so it will be hard to ever hear his love, but must choose to forgive him for his actions.  But gladly before my mom died, I felt the fullness of her love.  She went from telling me in the 90s that AIDS was God’s judgment on homosexuals, to writing me a handwritten note after I was diagnosed with HIV+ in 2012, letting me know that she loved me just as I am.   I can cling to this truth, this blessing…and in doing so, loosen the bondage and shame that clearly still has a bit of a hold on my soul.  May I find deeper forgiveness for Pop-Pop, Ted, Phil and others during this Lenten season, because it’s only in letting go that I will find the freedom I know I deserve.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow: Light, Acceptance and Life


I’m on a three month sabbatical, taking time to work a little on Todd after a very rough 2013. I’m doing some reading, volunteering, meditating, and also having some fun…traveling a bit, and enjoying the many blessings in my life. Overall it’s been a very enlightening and freeing experience. I had no concrete expectations of the time. I made out some general goals, but am also leaving myself open to what presents itself and how life unfolds.

I recently started to listen to some past sermons from Broadway that I missed in 2013. I’ve been a member at Broadway since 2005 or 2006 I think. It’s my community center, much more so than a church. I’ve found a deeper spiritual health and grown in my understanding of community – well beyond the conservative, fundamentalist community I lived in during my college years. I’ve found tremendous freedom in being “out”‘as a gay man, where my sexual orientation has no bearing on my relationships. I’ve also openly talked about my struggles with addiction and relapse – drugs and sex – and found acceptance, encouragement, support and a general absence of judgement. It truly is a unique beacon of hope, a gift…the culmination of many life experiences bringing me to the point where I’m able to discover my own voice and celebrate my gifts and passions within a community.

Having said that, there’s one recent shadow that somewhat hangs over me – a source of shame and self-doubt; a source of fear of rejection that holds me back sometimes from living fully into this life before me. On one hand, I have many examples thru family and close friends of acceptance and love around this topic. And yet it’s a topic that I guard close, and don’t share as freely as my love of travel, my passion for photography, my addiction to crystal meth or my felony record.

To set the stage, here is the first sermon I started to listen to from Advent 2013.  I missed this sermon….but I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that these words from Mike Mather were the ones I first stumbled upon during this sabbatical podcast marathon:

“Some people who are HIV+ are so ashamed, so afraid of how people will respond that they have not told their families or those who love them. This is to remind everyone that community is where you experience love. Peace is not the absence of violence and shame, but the awareness of possibility and grace. There is guilt and shame that each one of us carries, that holds us back from receiving love and support that is present even when we don’t see it…

“I have done funerals for individuals who have died of AIDS related causes. Sometimes they and their families have asked me not to speak of it.”

“They talked of the shame they had…

Somewhere over the rainbow? What does it mean to live in a community, a city, a congregation, where we can talk about these things and people can know love, grace and freedom from shame. That freedom, people as yeast in the community….listening, offering love, grace, acceptance and welcome. It means we see somewhere over the rainbow and we are there.”

So here’s more of my story….

In early 2012, during a brief hospitalization, I was diagnosed with HIV – within weeks of being infected. Through the grace of my Higher Power, I landed with one of the top HIV/infectious disease specialists in the State. We immediately started me on medication with a three-in-one-pill “cocktail.” By January 2013, my blood tests showed the HIV virus to be “undetectable” in my bloodstream. This means that the HIV plasma viral load is below the lower limit of detection for the particular test assay that is being used. To give you a reference, in five days between the initial tests in early 2012 during my hospital stay, my viral load went from 700,000 parts per unit to 2 million parts. This shows me both how rapidly the virus can spread without treatment, and how relatively quickly the new medications can work, brining my load from over 2 million to less than 20 parts in about 9 months. I was also fortunate because of the early diagnosis and quick treatment: my CD4 count (a general measure of a healthy immune system, in any person) has always stayed within the acceptable ranges of 900-1,100 (hence the term often used “healthy.”) (Any of us, with or without HIV, will show natural variation over time with just the normal ebbs and flows of general health.)

Now that’s the emotionless science of the matter. Let’s talk reality now:

  • I will have to take medication for the rest of my life, to keep my viral load undetectable and my immune system healthy. There are other things, like exercise, flu and pneumonia shots, watching my stress levels, and general health tips we all should follow that I will need to heed more seriously
  • The first night I came home from the doctor, knowing my diagnosis with pill in hand…I sat alone in my living room, staring at the pill. Once I took it, there was no stopping taking it… Akin to taking only part of an antibiotic regimen, it can actually lead to developing a more potent, drug resistant stream. I was scared and alone…
  • While I’m “undetectable and healthy,” I am still HIV+. I am not cured. As I should have been before, I must practice safer sex, to reduce the chances of infecting other people. Granted, with my low viral load, I’m about 96% less likely to infect someone than when I was untreated….but not 100%. And notice I said safer sex. There is not nor ever has been such thing as safe sex. Just safer.
  • Being in recovery gave me a lot of great tools like the Serenity Prayer and a spiritual life, as well as support from my family and close friends. Even 5 years ago, I would have been a lot more isolated, ashamed and at risk… My sister, brother, mother and father all know about my status and my health. For that I’m grateful beyond what you can imagine.
  • I was able to share with my mom that my viral load was undetectable – a huge milestone – a week before she ended up dying of a heart attack. I had great love and support from her, and my family…and the closure I was able to have with my mom from being honest and transparent brought me great peace when she died, knowing that we had everything out in the open.
  • I have experienced hateful and hurtful comments and reactions from men I’ve talked with about dating, who have rejected me because of their fear and ignorance of my status. And to be honest, when I was HIV negative, I was equally afraid and uneducated. While I never said hateful things, I would not consider dating someone or having sex with someone who was HIV+, regardless of their relative health and ability to practice safer sex. I now experience that same “silent rejection,” and regret that I failed to learn more, love more and see these men as human beings, worthy of love, acceptance, compassion and understanding.
    • Here is the site I was given by my nurse practitioner for reliable information on the internet for HIV/AIDS http://www.thebody.com
  • I have a fear of being alone, of not being in another committed relationship  again, of not experiencing love because of my status. My work on self-acceptance and self-love is now heavily and most influenced by my status.  I’m learning to not rely as much in external validation…but it’s hard.  I can not lie.
  • When I watched Griffin and Phoenix, I bawled for the first time after my diagnosis…I mean really deep, gut wrenching sobbing….fully feeling the deep loss, grief and fear that comes with “losing” a part of my health
  • HIV is not a death sentence. By following medical care and treatment regimes, I can live a full and exciting life. In the US, I’m told, more people now die from complications related to diabetes than of HIV/AIDS related complications.
  • I’m lucky that the strain I have is not already resistant to any of the main categories of HIV medications on the market. Over time, I may develop resistance (hence the regular blood tests), at which point I will need to switch medication.
  • Until Obamacare came along, I could be refused health insurance based on a pre-existing condition. I was refused healthcare when I left my last employer, by both private and state insurance. Fortunately, the State of Indiana has options for those like me, enabling us to get health insurance to cover the $2000/month medication costs and twice annual routine blood tests.  Because of heroes like Ryan White and others, Indiana is one of the best places to live and get comprehensive care for HIV/AIDS. Wow.

So there. I’m out. Again. I’m only as sick as my secrets. And as Mike preached, the more we talk about topics like this, the more we get them out in the open, the more the shame and darkness is overcome, replaced with love, acceptance and hope. This disease doesn’t define me anymore than my sexual orientation, my recovery, my criminal record, or my work. I’m a human being, a 45 year old man, a son, brother, uncle, cousin, nephew and friend. Oh by the way, I ride a Harley and have a tattoo 🙂

Thanks Mike. I love you brother.

http://www.broadwayumc.info/audio/12-01-13_Sermon.mp3

 

Save Yourself


So I took some flack on my recent post, “Hosting a Pastry Chef: A Silver Lining from my Past.”  A mutual acquaintance of C. contacted me…and quite bluntly, I don’t trust him, or his motives.  C. had even told me in one of our last conversations before he violated his probation and went back to prison, “If he contacts you, just ignore him.  I’m sorry he’s bothering you.”

Well this individual thought my post wasn’t honest in fully disclosing all the details and specifics about my using, and that I was judging C.’s recovery/sobriety.

First, the irony of the two statements was lost on him.  He thought I was judging C’s recovery, and yet then…he turned around and “judged” my recovery.  Enough said.  I have only my HP to answer to.

Second, it was not my intention to make it sound like I was better than C., or less than.  We both are recovering addicts.  Relapse is part of my story.  The bottom line is we only have today.  And that’s enough.  Full stop.  So, if it came across to others as if I was judgmental, let me be clear:  I’m human, C’s human.  I’m not perfect, nor is anyone.  I don’t consider my recovery better (or worse) than anyone’s.  The only standard I have is my own, and I only have today to worry about.  Full stop.

Third, while at this time, I choose not to have this person (or others from my past…) around because of the risk that I will use again, or allow myself to be taken advantage of…that doesn’t mean these guys are bad people, or beyond hope of change.  So the door is always open to reconnection in the future, if I feel that the risk has reached a reasonable point – and that I’m more confident in my recovery and choices.  So, if C. or any others ever read this and wonder “is the door closed?”  — absolutely not.  (Now, I may not choose to let you stay here in the future, based on my experience and self-awareness of what I’m able to handle.  But, that doesn’t mean a friendship is out of line, or that I don’t care and want the best for you.  But, my trust must be earned back through actions…)

Lastly, my post was completely honest.  There was nothing false in any of my statements.  Having said that, I don’t necessarily have to disclose every detail, every timeframe, every nuance for a story to be “truthful.”  There are aspects that are private, that are relevant in other situations or audiences, and again: see the earlier comments.  I have one to answer to: my HP; I do not compare or contrast my recovery to other’s.  It’s not better or worse.  I tried to stay focused on facts, and lessons that I took away from the experience – including especially (his gifts, passions, and things I learned from him.  But the facts also included lies, deception and being taking advantage of (which clearly means that I let myself be taken advantage of).  As my mom always said, “it takes two to pick a fight.”  So, I’m neither blameless, innocent or perfect.  But, this was my story – my insights.  As a friend one shares:

“All of my stories are true, and some of them actually happened.”

The real lesson in these stories (as I share more…) is that I can only save myself.  The Serenity Prayer reminds me:

“grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change (usually other people, places, things…), the courage to change the things I can (me, my actions, my beliefs), and the wisdom to know the difference.”

As I love music and see certain songs as gifts from the Universe to guide me and remind me of experiences, or Truths, let me close with a clip from my friend (!) Garrison Keillor and Suzy Bogguss, a frequent guest on his radio show (and many of her songs have touched and moved me…hmmm).  This goes for C., M., J., G., and others who I’ve tried “to save…”