Gay Marriage.

 

I mean I'm not even gay, so why should I care? I'm married to a woman who you should know as Mrs. Frost. She's a lady (trust me I've checked) with three grown up children all of which belong to us. When I'm not vicaring, I'm Burnleying, or tellying or Patterdale Terrier walkinging.

In my first full year of being a member of General Synod, representing clergy, my Synod inbox has only ever received one email, one flipping email form the Rev's that I represent in the Blackburn Diocese, I ask myself is this apathy, anarchy, or even representative of the dosh that's been spent on, train tickets, hotel fees, full English breakfasts and endless supplies of self serve tea bags with wooden sticks?

Why should I bother if we affirm a gay relationship? I don't think my pension is reliant on it, I don't think it will ensure my humongous parish share is fulfilled and it certainly won't solve the issue of a leaky tap or a grieving widow.

When I was in my formative years, I was pretty homophobic, I was pretty horrible to numerous groups that didn't reflect the misogynistic world I inhabited at the time. I used all those horrible words you can think of to describe a gay person in a defamatory way. I won't subject you to them now but you know the words I'm talking about. Looking back it was arrogant, offensive, childish and cruel to think and speak in such a way. And in hindsight, above all those things, it was ignorant, pure bloody minded ignorance. 

I have come to a point my life where I consider much of what we think is not what we truly believe but what we are told to believe. My Dad always, always, always told me to vote Conservative. In my teenage years Maggie Thatcher in his eyes was what Samantha Fox was in mine, A thing of natural beauty! I would watch him, watch question time, led by the remarkable Sir Robin Day, my Dad got as Partizan as a Glasgow derby, often using his colorful Southern accent to denigrate any words that would leave the mouths of the like's of Michael Foot and Denis Healy. 

It's what I have come to refer it as, the 'Daddy Doctrine' a traditional and loving approach to being a Father by imparting all pearls of wisdom upon a boy or girl that when all said and done, was a byproduct  of their very own male genitalia. Well in most cases anyway, which perhaps naturally leads to a unconscious misogynistic responsibility to impart such knowledge on the offspring of his or hers, mothers womb. 

Of course admitting to be a conservative supporter these days is as almost as taboo as telling someone you enjoyed the weekly ramblings of Jeremy Clarkson or you were gay in 1975.

 However for many years I went along with the narrative that, if Dad said it to be true then it must be so! Breaking that bond, that unwritten rule can be a struggle or maybe even dereliction of faith to question the words that came out of his mouth.

Then in my late twenties, I met a 'gay' I'd probably met a 'gay' before but not on a social or professional level like this, this was different. By the flip of a coin it was 'man' gay, and almost to my disappointment I liked him, I got on well with him, he was was funny, honest and crass but other than being gay he was incredibly normal.

As time went by I got to know more about him, I enjoyed being educated by him about what life was like as a young 'gay' and then as an adult 'gay'. He taught me valuable lessons about, self worth, being accepted, being different, being loved and being hated. 

Jesus wasn't on the scene at the point, well if he was I was unaware. I was completely unconscious to his presence. But maybe he was there, in that flamboyant, articulate homosexual before me to teach me what it meant to exclude and to include.

From that moment I knew with every bone in my body difference was good, and God given. I mean after all, on teenage Friday nights I used to walk round my rural village in leather trousers and crimped hair, looking all gothic, and getting off my face on Blue Nun Cider.

And now by some ridiculous turn of events, I am a General synod representative sharing a debating chamber with people who are incredibly and beautifully different. A cast of Bible bashers, queer bashers, LGBTI allies, To, The Manor Borners, and the latest group of intakes like me who look on with the same confusion I feel when playing QI alongside much loved gay lady, Sandi Toksvig.

And my Biblical rationale? I look to Jesus his unequivocal inclusion, he unequivocal love, his call for people to love on another. 

And my spiritual rationale, I look to my gay Christian friends, may who are ordained, I establish what beautiful followers of Jesus they are. Full of love and kindness and tolerance.

And yet within in all that fog, I am now very clear in mind why it matters. It matters because I believe with all my heart, they matter, this matters, gay marriage matters. Not to me, or a cleric, or a Bishop or even an Archbishop but to Jesus, they matter they really matter, just as we all do. I endorse everyone's freedom of opinion of choice, of response, of words and of actions. But I also preserve my right to speak up and speak out, in what I believe to be in the name of Jesus.

I don't have to do this, but I need to do this, concessions wont do, prayers aren't enough. Only when gay people, beautiful gay people feel loved and welcomed, blessed and included will I allow myself to say, It is finished, and my work is done. 

Alex

Burnley

Jan 2023

P.S If you find mistakes in this blog, get over it, I'm different.