Well, I kind of flashed out in church (wink); I wanted to dress in bright joy and celebration of this incredible woman and I put THE most perfect outfit together and by doing so, brought myself into that building, for the first time in my life, completely as my gay self and did not shrink down in shame for doing so. And I had the most wonderful time, for being at a funeral, that is.
Funerals are so interesting, in many ways, it is the first time many folks have seen one another in years so it is a cause for celebration and laughter and warm hugs and love. Yet, on the other hand (and please picture Tevye saying this whole paragraph) we are gathering to honor the passing of a beloved person and emotions are more raw and sorrow comes along in huge gusts of sighs and showers of tears. Growing up, as an alter boy and serving as many funerals as I did, I never got used to the way the church would feel when it was so full with emotion, and funeral emotion is unlike anything I have ever felt; it is healing.
That was how I felt as I walked through those doors and opened my arms to all of the hugs and love I could give to my family within these people. I grew up within these people's arms and I was overwhelmed by the light that beamed out all around me. As I was making my way to my dad, who was sitting on the other side of the church, not in his usual pew, I pretty much stopped at each pew along the way to have another hug and share a moment of love with another. Then, I got to slide in next to my dad.
You can only imagine the eyes on us, In my mind, I am hearing the flood of questions "his dad must be so happy to have him here with him" "what does he think he is doing being here, dressed like that." "always such good posture," "he better not be taking communion." "maybe he has come home to us." I had to stop the rush of them and just take a deep breath and chill out. I was seriously nervous about being there. As happy as I was to be amongst my people, I was freaking out inside, because the reality of judgement was so evident all through the room. The walls lined with the Stations of the Cross, Jesus being judged, being persecuted and told he was not welcome and tortured for being himself and killed for his love of God and accepting his path; not an easy one.
And as I took that all in, the thought began weaving it's way into my consciousness, "If Jesus was amongst us right now, having to come back and lead His people back to His loving arms and salvation, he would definitely be a part of the queer community." Seriously. He would be asking us to soften our hearts and find the gentleness of our spirits and share them with one another. He would ask us to stop judging one another.
During the service, this message rang more loudly, shaking my soul. It was the Priest reading the Gospel and he was, and I am paraphrasing here, reading: "that which you do to the least of my brothers, you do unto me." rewind. repeat. say what? "that which you do to the least of my brothers, you do unto me." translated: you yell your hate and throw your laws down on those not you, you are doing to me (me being God). Human kindness
Later in the service, we take a moment out and greet one another with peace. peace be with you. and also with you. Interesting how some standing near, can make me vanish, not exist. Others grabbing me in embraces and telling me they love me. Sideways glances as people pass for communion. I stayed seated. I rubbed my dad's back and let the tears flow down my face as I honored her passing surrounded by my past, sitting with these thoughts rushing around in my mind and wondering What Would Jesus Do?
And I look at his image around the room and I see the softness of his presence. I notice how his stance is one of gentility; not strong like a warrior, but with a relaxed stance, sinking into one hip, arms soft in gesture, human kindness. Even hanging on the cross, looking at him in death, I see the softness of his being, I see peace. For that moment, I see peace and wonder how that reality has been replaced by judgement and rage. Why is it so important for us to work at keeping others down? Why is it okay to not see one another as we pass on the street? Why do we give in to fear, when we should have the courage to grow wherever we may be? Why should we question helping another in need?
Why shouldn't we want to see our fellow human happy and cared for? Heard and nourished?
I think about these things as I walk my way through town each day. Many tourists seeing this swishy queen in sunglasses and a swag hat and a big travel pack on his back and a rain coat singing and dancing his way down the street, lowering their eyes, and holding their breath in case I stink; for them, I always smile big and welcome them to Astoria.
Instead of armoring up when I approach people, I soften my gaze and lighten my step, make eye contact and sometimes just smile and nod; but mostly, it is a hug and a laugh. That is the lesson I received while honoring the passing of this particular woman; and all that have passed and will pass, may we know love and human kindness the way that she did throughout her life.
My heart softens, my head raises from the toil of emotions to drink in the warmth and beauty of the sun and sky around me as I take a deep breath and throw my arms wide and twirl as I sing, "the hills are a live with the sound of
love love love,
Daylight
