Forty years ago this coming fall I wrote a paper for liberation theologian and feminist Dr. Letty Russell,
for her course “Issues in Liberation Theology.” I had forgotten its title until
decades after, when I returned to speak on the campus of Yale Divinity School
and Letty introduced me.
She proudly held up the
paper, still in her files, “Out of the Closets and into the Kingdom: The Call
of the Kingdom for Gay Christians within Liberation Theology.” Some of you will
know the title is a play on a rallying cry for the nascent LGBT movement, “out
of the closets and into the streets!”
What follows is the
introduction to
my paper. I’ve only changed spacing, bolded some sentences, and included
references in text rather than as footnotes. At the end I’ve also added a
sentence from the paper’s concluding paragraph, quoting Letty.
There is a knock at the
door of my closet. I tremble with fear. It is the persistent Jesus again,
asking that the door be opened, asking to be given hospitality, asking me to
remove the walls between us and between me and the rest of the Kingdom.
“I
don’t want any!” I shout, in my desire to live in peace. But the possible joy,
despite my initial denial, eventually overcomes my fear, as it has in the past
and will again in the future, and I open the door. Jesus comes in, smiling,
hugs me. He sometimes chastens me for taking so long to answer the door. As we
drink the new wine which he brings, in my ecstasy I see the walls of another
closet disappear. And I inevitably think with surprise, “He’s done it again,”
and smile at my lack of faith.
For gay people and
indeed for everyone, the Kingdom of God is somewhere outside the closet. A closet
is a cramped place in which to hide, with little room to breathe and the
inevitable storeroom for unwanted items and unsightly clutter which one also
wishes to hide.
It
has similarities to a box, and for some, a box belonging to one Pandora, which
has been forbidden to be opened. Humans prefer boxes in which to live, travel,
file, categorize, love, find entertainment, worship, pray, etc. At their worst
these boxes symbolize death (coffins); at their best they symbolize the Kingdom
which is yet to come (churches), though they are never to be confused with that
Kingdom.
As Letty Russell speaks
of the constantly changing horizon of freedom, in the same way it is possible
to speak of the constant opening of each of our successive closet doors. Sometimes we who are
inside open the door to the Kingdom outside (conversion); sometimes the Kingdom
“breaks in” (incarnation); and sometimes the door rots and simply falls off its
hinges (novelty, chance, serendipity, time).
But
the nature of the Kingdom, from this perspective, is that it is always outside
of the closet, waiting to enter or waiting to be entered. It is the Kingdom
which inspires movement or moves itself; it is above all a moving event. It is “the
driving force of salvific history,” and as such is “the very key to
understanding the Christian faith.” [Gustavo Gutierrez, A Theology of Liberation, 162.]
As
a fundamentalist I identified the Kingdom with a literal understanding of God
setting up the Kingdom on earth at the end of time—sort of a heaven on earth. As James Cone, however, aptly points out,
to the oppressed with whom I began to identify, the “eschatological promise of
heaven is insufficient.” [James H. Cone, A Black Theology of Liberation, 44.]
As
a social activist I identified the Kingdom with a kingdom on earth which we
“liberals” were going to bring into existence—the old social gospel. Here
Gustavo Gutierrez’s differentiation between promises and the Promise proves
helpful. [Gutierrez, 162.] Though the in-breakings of the Kingdom may occur in
the process of social activism, they cannot be understood as the Kingdom
itself, or the fullness of the Promise, but rather only as promises of the
future fulfillment of God’s Promise of the Kingdom.
As Günther Bornkamm puts
it, “the Kingdom of God cannot be described as can an earthly thing or distant
wonderland—every attempt to ‘define’ it can thus only come to grief—for it is a
happening, an event, the gracious action of God.” [Günther Bornkamm, Jesus of Nazareth, 77.]
The
Kingdom of God is not a static reality, but a movement. Bornkamm also states
“all the beatitudes are directed towards the coming Kingdom of God and are
embraced in one idea, that God wills to be present with us and will be with us
all, in as manifold and individual a way as our needs are manifold and
individual.” [Bornkamm, 77.]
God
wills to be present with gay persons and all who wish to be free in their
movement from their closets of humiliation, despair, loneliness, isolation and
secrecy to the kingdom of exaltation, exultation, companionship, community and
openness (which includes freedom and responsibility).
As the experience of
many gay persons will testify, “coming out” is not a once-and-for-all
experience, but a continuing process. So the movement towards the Kingdom, somewhere outside the closet, or the Kingdom’s
movement toward the closeted, is one which continues until the final Promise is
fulfilled: God’s gift of God’s own future, the Kingdom.
As
the Church, as people who wish to be free in the Body of Christ, whether
female, male, black, brown, red, yellow, white, gay, straight, and so on, we must respond to our “calling to be a
community that lives, not by the standards of the world, nor of the past, but
by the memory of hope.” [Letty Russell, Human
Liberation in a Feminist Perspective, 162.]
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Copyright © 1976 and 2016 by Chris R.
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Thanks, Chris. I often think of the January Term course i took in 1972 at Austin College in Sherman TX. It was "Human Liberation". It is an ongoing exercise.
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