Are We Making a Difference?
Stop 3: Lee University, Cleveland, TN
Friday, 17 March 2006

We arrived at Lee University after a nearly 14 hour bus ride.

(That needed to be a paragraph all by itself just to give you, my gentle reader, time to contemplate what life must be like with 35 people on a 55 passenger charter bus from 8am until 10pm.)

Bone weary, we finally arrived in Cleveland and were allowed 30 minutes for dinner, only to discover at our midnight hour meeting that Lee University had rescinded the agreement we had reached and that we would no longer be able to give any presentations or be recognized in any official way by the university. We were allowed on campus, but only on their conditions. We were not allowed to speak in classrooms, congregate in groups larger than three, or engage with students other than on a one-on-one basis.

Yet with all these restrictions, we still managed to rise to the occasion. The students thronged to see us, largely because the administration, in an attempt to diminish the impact of our visit, had spent weeks preparing and scaring their students about the Soulforce Equality Ride visit. They had chapel services entitled, “How to Deal with Equality Riders,” their professors were instructed to abandon their classes immediately if any of us were to enter the rooms and speak, and outside speakers such as Exodus were given the open forum we were denied. Of course, these preparations only served to pique the students’ curiosity of this traveling circus—the Equality Ride.

When we entered campus yesterday morning, I was worried. I knew how to show resigned indignation when I was arrested, but I didn’t know how to change the hearts and minds of those Christians who might seek to oppose me or ensnare me with a tangled web of convoluted and distorted scripture passages. I didn’t know if I would be able to dialogue effectively with students to indicate that there are other interpretations of those six or seven scripture passages used to condemn me and those I love. But I should not have doubted, for the Lord was there to guide me throughout the day, and when I stumbled looking for the right words to say, His angels were there to catch me.

* * *

Today, I ended up spending my time with Lee students. We had a jolly time talking during our visit to campus. When the bus was heading back to the hotel, my new Lee friends invited us bowling. But the fun didn’t stop there. Before our heads could finally connect with the plush pillows at the Jameson Inn, we ended up back on campus for a St. Patty’s Day Bash and also found time for a post-dinner snack at IHOP.

But at the end of the day, I was left wondering, “Did we really do anything?” We spent nearly two days with these Christians in Cleveland and had a great time, but by the end of the visit, our beliefs still differed. They still thought that my homosexuality was a sin. They thought I was a sin. So what had we really done other than show them that we are people too. They would still vote against my marriage. They would still pressure people to “change.” They still couldn’t affirm my humanity or believe me when I said that the Lord loved me as I am without reservation.

Yes, I intend to leave you in this quandary with this constant wondering and questioning of myself and of the ride. The beauty of grass roots activism of this kind is that there will always be uncertainty. We make up the rules as we go along, and we may make the wrong decisions sometime, but one thing is certain—we will always pick ourselves back up, dust ourselves off, and keep right on going. We are on a mission. We have a message to bring to Christians young and old. Although I may not feel confident and secure today as I write this entry, I have faith in the system of nonviolent resistance and relentless love, I have faith in people, and I have faith in God.

A Virginian to the Core
Stop 2: Regent University, Virginia Beach, VA
Tuesday, 14 March 2006

Last night, I learned in part what it feels like to be forced into silence like my LGBT counterparts at these Christian universities. During our discussion of the action planned for Regent University, which has been most unwelcoming, our leadership said that no one who was arrested at Liberty would be arrested if Regent continued to refuse us access to the campus. They were concerned that a worse penalty would be assigned since it would be two arrests in less than a week in the same state. Obviously, the leadership had our best interests at heart, but in that simple statement, I felt my voice taken away from me.

I am a Virginia resident, and never before had I felt so strongly called to claim that title that evening. I am white. I am male. I am middle class. And I can leave Virginia and escape all the discrimination and hate that is directed toward LGBT people here--that is my privilege. But there are thousands of people who cannot flee to welcoming urban centers and the so called “blue states.” Am I to flee my home for another place, or am I called to stay and fight for those who do not have the strength or power to do so? After much prayer and self-reflection, I recognized it as God’s call for me to do the latter.

This morning I made my intentions known to the Jake, Haven, and Bill, and they supported my decision to be among those prepared to accept arrest if that is what was necessary to prove to the school that our message was too important to be silenced. At our church service this morning, everyone treated me as a lamb before the slaughter. In many ways, I am viewed as fragile and innocent, and it hurt people to think that I might have to remain in jail overnight or that even worse penalties could occur.

The tears and hugs of support of my new family remained with me as I walked onto campus, stepped over the flimsy piece of caution tape intended to make me balk, and attempted to share my message of love and acceptance with Regent students. Sitting in the back of the police van with handcuffs limiting my movement, I knew that I had stood for what I believed in. I had done my state proud.

Stop 1: Liberty University, Lynchburg, VA
Thursday, 9 March 2006

After nearly a week of training in Washington, DC we are prepared for our first stop at Liberty University tomorrow. Finally being here with the group has forced me to realize that this action is actually going to happen. For the past few days, I have been grappling with my role on this ride and in our action at Liberty. My purity of motive is of the utmost importance to me in this effort. Jerry Falwell has already indicated that we are not welcome on his campus, but we will be going with open arms and with our presentations prepared to meet and dialogue with Liberty students. If he chooses to arrest us, that is his right, as Liberty is a private institution. We are not questioning this right but instead are trying to bring to the attention of the public that we, as members of the LGBT community, are not welcome to discuss an alternate viewpoint that the students of Liberty have probably never heard. I know that there are students at Liberty who are forced into the closet and are led to believe that their lives are sinful and hated in the eyes of God. I cannot believe that God hates. Like Anne Frank, I believe in the inherent goodness of human nature, and if I am to have faith in this belief in humanity, then how can I expect any less from our Creator?

I am fully prepared to be arrested tomorrow. If I can deflect some of the hatred and pain felt by those LGBT students, I will rise to the occasion. Through my willingness to accept this burden I can prove my conviction, support, and unending love and faith in humanity. I hope my open nature and ability to freely emote will illustrate the love that I feel in my heart for everyone and will be able to begin to bridge the gap between me, a gay man, and the Christian students at Liberty. With this knowledge, I will confidently step on to the Liberty University campus tomorrow with my eyes on the prize.