[I wrote this in June/July of 2016, as a response to a sermon that was (sort of) delivered at RICC by a former pastor. I did not publish it at the time because I let fear take control. I apologize to anyone who thought they were alone in feeling this way, especially if you felt like the target was on your back. More thoughts after the letter. - 2023 Rob]
June 20, 2016
Dear Pastor:
Let me start by saying that I was a bit worried about how you would handle the Orlando incident* this week, especially when I saw the verses you had chosen for the sermon: Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." You hadn't mentioned it last week, but it had been just the night before. By this past Sunday we have all had a week to think about it, and I was curious how you would approach it.
* This was a pretty big incident. From the Wikipedia article: "On June 12, 2016, Omar Mateen, a 29-year-old man, killed 49 people and wounded 53 more in a mass shooting at Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida, United States. Orlando Police officers shot and killed him after a three-hour standoff... It is the deadliest incident in the history of violence against LGBT people in the United States, surpassing the UpStairs Lounge arson attack in 1973, the deadliest terrorist attack in the United States since the September 11 attacks, and was the deadliest mass shooting by a single gunman in U.S. history until the 2017 Las Vegas shooting."
I mean, you can't just come right out and say that those homos being killed was a good thing, even though that is clearly what Paul is telling us here. Some members of the congregation might get offended if you said that gunman was working for God's good will. The bleeding hearts might even suggest that some of those dead homos loved God, even though their twisted lifestyle surely testifies (sorry, testified) that they don't.
Then I thought, "Maybe he's going to spin Orlando as a warning to the survivors to turn from their wicked ways, so that they don't die and go to hell." That is one reason God sends punishment, right? When God let that entire generation of Jews die off before entering the Promised Land (because they were cowards), it was a warning to the next generation! "Shape up and follow The Lord, or else!" I know, they didn't do a very good job of that. But what do you expect from such a "stiff-necked" people, right?
But you didn't go there. When you pointed out that this Bible verse is not a positive message for every human being, but only those who are "called according to His purpose," I knew it was coming! The gays in that bar were clearly not called according to God's purpose, so they serve as a counterexample! Here it comes!
But you didn't make the connection. Again. God is judging them right in front of the world, and you didn't point it out. I was mystified.
You got to the end of the sermon, reminded us that without Jesus we are nothing, and that we believers should have faith that all things work for good in our lives, even if we can't see it. Then you prayed. You hadn't brought up the dead homos even once.
But by the end of your prayer I realized the genius of what you had just done: You had demonstrated that the 50 homos who died in Orlando didn't matter enough to be worth mentioning at all in relation to this scripture! We all had a whole week to mull over the shooting at that queer club, and we found that they weren't any more worthy of mention than the pig who died for the pork soup we had for lunch after church! Genius! It reminded me that what you don't say is sometimes more important than what you do say!
Westborough has the right idea, but they're doing it all wrong! The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference! And if we know for a fact that the homosexuals have turned their back on God, losing the right to His love, then we know what the proper response is to their grief.
Silence.
Sincerely,
A Church Member
Some thoughts (in 2023) on this unsent response
First of all, I have revised this piece in an attempt to make the messaging more clear. I added the Wikipedia reference footnote, but also tried to sharpen the language to make the viewpoint clearer. I was also not happy with the signature, so I went simple. There is a bit of the Strawman to this Church Member, but the past few years have shown that there are more men like him than we care to admit.
I can clearly see the Rob's Gallery at work in this piece: Firebrand and The Joker got together with Encyclopedia Sack to craft this satire. I was aiming to skewer a target just over the shoulder of the audience, forcing them to question the wisdom of standing near that target.
Then Bridge Builder stepped in and declared that publishing this would be burning a bridge too far (he likes bridge metaphors). He had the backing of Sympathetic, and Imposter Syndrome is always ready to fight for inaction. But they were not alone. Whispering from the shadows was Fear. Fear of being branded different, a heretic. Fear of being rejected, ejected from the church. Fear of losing my standing. In hindsight, fear was a near constant companion during my time at RICC. I wonder how many other people attending feel that way. ("ONLY YOU!" screams Syndrome, but everyone else shrugs and puts him back in his corner.)
Looking back at this letter, the accusation of weaponizing silence seems particularly accurate. In one of my last conversations with the pastor of RICC, I asked him to consider what role I might play at RICC moving forward. I asked him to pray about it, and listen to the Holy Spirit.
I should have left it at that, but Firebrand was fed up with being in the back seat. He reached forward and grabbed the wheel: "I don't believe that you are very sensitive to the Holy Spirit, pastor, but maybe you will prove me wrong."
I never received a response. I know the excuses: a pastor is always busy. Other things come up, and the back burner gets further back. Another excuse is that I never followed up, but the last I checked I was in the low position in the power dynamic. Maybe I was supposed to grovel. Beg for crumbs. Or maybe the pastor just didn't give a shit.
More than 10 years of service, from music to prayer to teaching to tech. Apparently none of it was worthy. I am the first to admit that letting Firebrand speak may have burnt the bridge, but when a pastor is incapable of forgiving a few harsh words from someone who has served and supported and loved for so long, maybe they don't really need an excuse to scrape you off and put you out with the trash.
I was pissed at the silence RICC showed after the shooting up of Pulse in Orlando. They were happy to rant about gay marriage becoming legal, and how it was destroying American society, but dead gay bodies were not worth commenting on. But I remained silent, because I wasn't gay. I was silent again and again, and then my silence caught up with me.
They know it works. Maybe they don't know that it works because it hurts.
