So Ashamed

A dear friend who is a minister in an LGBTQ affirming church, shared a story about his beloved grandmother telling him that his grandfather and his mentor would both be ashamed of him. Reading his story triggered so many memories of when I was ostracized by my own family and friends. 

Of course I heard similar admonitions about people I admired who were gone, as well as rejections by people I loved and admired who were still here. It is likely the most painful experience I’ve ever had.

Rejection by those we love and admire can often hurt us worse than the death of that person might, in that it’s a choice. Our loved ones usually don’t choose to die. It’s simply a necessary and involuntary fact of life. 

When we choose to love someone, the user agreement states our consent to suffer the pain of losing them to death, should they precede us. 

This is the price of love.

But we don’t expect those who love us to decide they no longer do. Even if the abandonment may be justified, it still hurts. And when it’s a surprise, and we can’t see the justice in it, the pain can be a shock to the system which throws off our equilibrium. 

It can make us feel lost, question our decisions, question what is real, question our value. After all, I loved that person because they are good, and loving; so if they find me unlovable now, maybe I am.

These feelings are real, and valid; but the assumptions they bring, often are not. 

In my own life, the rejection was over my atheism; but I became an atheist by following the very curiosity, skepticism, and search for truth IN THE BIBLE that this person had taught me. My resulting behavior was to be more kind, loving, and honest. It was to be less judgemental, selfish, and hostile to those who were unlike me. 

As a pastor friend of mine pointed out, becoming an atheist actually made me much more Christlike. It also made me much more like the person I was taught to be by the very person who now rejected me for it.

This happened to me more than 15 years ago. To this day, I struggle to believe myself worthy of love, or that any individual really likes me. I struggle to believe that the relationships in my life are more than transactional or conditional, even when I logically know they are. 

I sometimes think of our 1st and 3rd presidents. Both thoughtful, wise, well-intentioned people; yet both slave-owners. It’s hard for me to picture a Thomas Jefferson or George Washington living in 2023 who would not have a rainbow flag on their Twitter profiles, much less who would defend literal slavery. 

It is the duty of every generation to recognize and correct the blind spots and mistakes of our forbearers. It doesn’t mean they were inherently evil, but that they were products of their time, just as someday, our children and grandchildren will recognize the evil in things we don’t even think about. 

To my friend who inspired this writing, I didn’t know your grandfather, but I know you. I can’t imagine you holding a cruel person in high regard. And while your grandfather may in life, have held different ideas, if there is an afterlife, I must assume that your grandmother is mistaken. 

He wouldn’t be looking on you in shame for your differences. He‘d be looking on you with pride in the fact that you have the courage to stand for what you believe to be true and loving, despite the cost. 

In a perfect world, it would cost nothing to live ones true, authentic life. It wouldn’t be dangerous to express the deep truths as we understand them. In a perfect world, we would embrace those who differ from us, as long as those differences didn’t hurt others. 

This is not a perfect world. In this world, it can be dangerous to love, to speak your truth, to defend the Other, and certainly to BE the Other. In this world, love itself is a revolutionary act, and it often comes at a very high price. 

But no one needs to bear that price alone.  

To my friend, to my friends who may be going through this quietly, to the friends I don’t know yet, who are now or will someday experience this pain, I say this: you are not alone. Many of us have been there, and we look forward to welcome you on our Isle of Misfit Toys.