This
past Friday, October 12, was the 20th anniversary of Matthew
Shepard’s death. I realized that as I read the good news that his ashes will be
interred in the Washington National Cathedral alongside other national figures
who helped transform our consciences for the better.
I
was about to preach at Oaklands Presbyterian Church in Laurel, Maryland, when
someone handed me a newspaper article about a young gay man who was hanging on
to life by a thread after being beaten and hung coyote style on a fence in the
prairies of Wyoming. Another gay-bashing, I thought, and I doubted any more
would come of it than the gay-bashings friends and others had endured. Thank
God, I was wrong about its impact.
Weeks
later I paralleled Matthew’s life with the Presbyterian Church’s history on
LGBT concerns during a “Moment for Mission” for Rutgers Presbyterian Church in
New York City on December 6, 1998. It was printed in the March/April 1999 issue
of the More Light Update, and then in
a Church & Society issue on
“Hate,” September/October 1999.
In
memory of Matthew Shepard and the many other lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, and
transgender people (the latter of whom bear a disproportionate brunt of our
hate crimes) similarly
attacked, I’ve decided to offer this as my post this week.
When Mary
came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him what
Martha had said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother Matthew Shepard
would not have died.”
When Jesus
saw her weeping, and those who came with her also weeping, he was greatly
disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, “Where have you laid him?” They
said to him, “Come and see.” Jesus began to weep. So everyone said, “See how he
loved Matthew Shepard!”
But some of
them said, “Could not one who gave vision to the visionless have kept Matthew
from dying?”
The
gay University of Wyoming student who was brutally killed in October 1998 was
born in 1976, the year that the United Presbyterian Church set up the Task
Force to Study Homosexuality. As we held our meetings and regional hearings to
determine whether homosexuality was a sin and a bar to ordination, Matthew
Shepard’s mother was changing his diapers and dreaming who he might become.
Matthew
Shepard was just learning to walk when the 1978 General Assembly of the United
Presbyterian Church gathered in San Diego and rejected the recommended policy
of the majority report of our task force that homosexuality was neither sin nor
a bar to ordination.
Although
we were devastated by this outcome, at least the General Assembly had not
changed the Book of Order, had not
set its recommended policy to presbyteries and congregations in stone. But, as
Matthew Shepard was learning to talk, the denomination’s Stated Clerk muted our
hopes by declaring that the Assembly had interpreted the church Constitution in
a way that made its recommendation binding on presbyteries and congregations.
Many
congregations balked and, as friends and family told Matthew Shepard’s parents
what a sweet little boy they had, a handful of Presbyterian churches began
passing statements saying they would welcome people into their churches and
into church leadership without regard to sexual orientation. Thus began the
More Light church movement, which gave rise to similar movements in other
denominations.
Matthew
Shepard entered school as denominations across the United States resisted being
schooled in matters related to sexuality. Churches kept an arm’s length from
homosexuality and human sexuality by commissioning church committees to study
these issues, only to dismiss and even condemn their conclusions and
recommendations.
So,
as Matthew Shepard was becoming aware of his own sexuality, our church and
almost every church was announcing in the media that it was sinful, not God’s
wish for humanity, evil, sick. Matthew would have had an easier time of it had
he grown up in the 1950s when few people talked about homosexuality.
In
Matthew’s final years of high school, as he was developing the normal crushes
and contemplating what he would do with his life, the Presbyterian Church was
busy codifying its anti-gay position by an amendment to our Book of Order.
As
Matthew began a college career focused on political science and international
relations and hoped someday to serve the United States government in a foreign
embassy, that same government passed legislation that prevented recognizing the
same-gender marriage he might have had.
And
the night of Matthew’s death, the Presbyterian church was sleeping on its
ecclesiastical sofa, having declared a moratorium on decisions regarding
homosexuality.
Russell
Arthur Henderson and Aaron James McKinney were coming of age at the same time,
exposed to the same anti-gay messages that the church was sending to Matthew
Shepard. If the church calls gay life sick and depraved, why shouldn’t they? If
Christians angrily attack the so-called homosexual agenda, why shouldn’t they
attack homosexuals? If Christians rob gays and lesbians of their spiritual
inheritance and vocations, why shouldn’t they rob Matthew?
If
the church excommunicates gays and lesbians, why shouldn’t they cast Matthew
out? Excommunication means to send out of community, away from the resources
needed for survival, to die of exposure in the wilderness. And in the wilderness
of Wyoming, Russell and Aaron executed that sentence upon Matthew Shepard.
If
the body of Christ—the church—had been there, Matthew Shepard would not have
died.
If
the body of Christ had been there, Russell and Aaron would not have brutalized
him simply for who he was.
Unlike
Jesus, the body of Christ doesn’t have a second chance with Matthew. The church
cannot resurrect people. So it needs to get there sooner if it is to bring life
to the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community. It cannot dawdle,
lest its only service to gay people be to bury its failures at rescuing the
spiritually abused.
“Lord, if
you had been there, our brother Matthew Shepard would not have died. But even
now I know that God will give you whatever you ask.”
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Copyright © 1998 and 2018 by Chris R. Glaser.
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We are all made slightly different. In my Bible Jesus said, "Judge not, that ye be not judged". He also urged us to love our neighbours. Perhaps the Presbyterians use a different Bible?
ReplyDeleteThank you, Chris. Very powerful piece.
ReplyDeleteThank you Chris, for an insightful piece. The good news was that many in the faith community awoke to the kairos when Matthew was killed, and have made significant strides. The community memorial service in Cheyenne, WY, the day after the family service in Casper, was widely interfaith, from Unitarians to Lutherans to Southern Baptists to Jews. (I was MCC pastor there at the time and helped coordinate.)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mark, for being there, and yes, that kairos moment awakened many people of faith to the violence done by many using the excuse of religion. Thanks be to God, and to faithful people like yourself, public attitudes have turned around!
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