Date: Fri, 28 Nov 2008 19:29:05 -0500
From: montrealormolu@aol.com
Subject: The Glance - chapter 13

Jeff drove home quietly, thinking hard about what John had told him, and
trying to think of what this could mean for him, and for all the gay and
lesbian clergy of the diocese. His mind was in a whirl, too many thoughts
-- and memories -- swirling around in there. He knew that he was a bit
jealous, maybe a lot jealous, but that couldn't sway him now. His mind kept
returning to his own seminary experience. He remembered that first day,
looking around in class, trying to find a seat. All those strangers
suddenly gathered. Maybe it was like any other first day, but somehow it
had felt different. They were all there to "serve" God, all feeling called
to the priesthood, all sharing that same bond -- and all strangers to each
other. A seat had been open beside one other young man, so he had taken
it. They'd introduced themselves and started chatting, waiting for the
professor to come in. And by the end of the class, they'd become
friends. Kismet, fate, serendipity, God's Will, whatever you wanted to call
it, their meeting had begun a life-long friendship. Well, he smiled to
himself; it was more than a friendship. And that very fact was bittersweet.

As their friendship had deepened during the first semester, they found
themselves spending more and more time together, enjoying each other's
company, laughing, having fun together. One of their classmates had
jokingly referred to their going out on a date -- and Jeff had realized
that it was one. He'd never thought about it before. He just knew that he
really enjoyed being with his friend. But he knew, with an awful, sinking
feeling in the pit of his stomach, that their friend had been right -- it
was a date, with all that implied. Now what?

He'd wrestled with that growing knowledge, not just about their
relationship, but about himself, too. He'd grown distant, and finally his
friend had cornered him one evening, coming into his room and closing the
door. He'd wanted to know what was wrong, and Jeff had found himself
uncharacteristingly tongue-tied. He, known in his class for his way with
words, couldn't find any. His friend had leaned in and kissed him. "It's
OK, Jeff, I know," he'd said, "I know. We love each other, and even more
than that, we're in love with each other. It's OK."

The relationship had deepened and blossomed over the next two years, and
then suddenly they were facing graduation and ordination. Reluctantly they
had let each other go so that they could be ordained and move on into their
vocations as priests. Back then there was no possibility for two men to
live together and be in the ministry. It just wasn't even a thought. And
now? Well, now they lived a thousand miles apart, they saw each other for
vacations and some holidays, and they suffered. There was no Brokeback
Mountain for priests! He laughed at himself, maybe he should write a screen
play about Broken Altars? He laughed again, and an idea began forming
itself in his mind.

Once home, he spent the next hour on the phone, arranging a meeting with
his friends and colleagues. Maybe there was something they could do.

The house sparkled with cleanliness, a faint hint of pine in the air. The
wood gleamed, the antiques glowed, and all the people moving around the
rooms were having a good time. When everyone had a drink, and when all the
canapés were gone, Jeff clinked his glass.

"Please come and sit down, friends." When they were all seated, he started
again, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together..." and laughter
erupted around the room as they all recognized the opening words of the
marriage service. "Friends, we all know each other, and we all know that
everyone in this room is gay or lesbian. That's why I invited you all here
this evening. This, brothers and sisters, is the inaugural meeting of the
Gay and Lesbian Clergy Caucus of the diocese. Let me tell you what's going
on."

Jeff told them about John and Chuck. He told them about John's decision to
come out to the bishop, and he reminded them about their own stories -- he
knew them all. He invited them to look around and begin sharing some of
their own lives with each other. There had been some surprise in the room,
not everyone had been out to everyone else. Yet, they had all known that
they were no alone. The evening deepened as they shared their stories, as
they found support from the other people in the room, and a feeling began
to grow that they needed to do `something.' Jeff put words to that feeling.

"We need to do something, don't we?" he asked. "We need not just to help
John but to help ourselves. Maybe it's time that we all came out, together,
to the bishop."

Stunned silence greeted those words. What could he be thinking? What had he
been drinking? Come out to the bishop! All of them! No, it wasn't possible
-- they chattered back and forth, interjecting, interrupting each other,
and slowly a consensus grew in the room. Maybe, just maybe they could do
that very thing -- come out to the bishop. One priest asked the question
that was on everyone's mind, "What about our parishes?"

Jeff answered, "Maybe we're not ready to tell our parishes yet, though my
guess is that several of them already know and just don't want to hear
it. You know, the ecclesiastical version of `don't ask, don't tell.'
Eventually we're going to have to cross that bridge, too. But for the
moment all we're talking about is seeing the bishop together and laying it
in front of him. Are we ready to do that?"

Not everyone was ready, there were several who demurred. But everyone was
ready to go home and think about it. Jeff invited them all back next
week. Together, maybe they could come to a consensus and figure out a plan
of action for the next step. He chatted with everyone as they left, one by
one, picking up their coats from the hall closet. Jeff wandered around
afterwards, cleaning up the house and putting things away. He was
thoughtful, wondering about what he had just done. Sure, they all knew each
other, and yes, they were all gay or lesbian. But this was a big step, a
very big step. Going to the bishop together meant that the bishop had to
take notice of them. He had been supportive on a personal level for a long
time, but was he ready to deal with all of them together? Only time would
tell.

The week went by quickly; thoughts of the meeting were never far from his
conscious mind. He wondered. Would everyone come through? Would they have
to protect some of the brothers and sisters from exposure? How would the
bishop deal with this? How would the diocese deal with it? Thoughts simply
went around and around inside his head. It was hard to concentrate.

Finally the week was over. Everyone came back, plus a couple of people he
had not originally invited. He was discovering that he hadn't known all the
gays and lesbians in the diocese. He wasn't sure whether to be complimented
that they had come, or annoyed that he hadn't been able to spot them. Oh
well, it was a big diocese.

One of the older priests started, "Jeff, we've all been talking, and
certainly I've been doing a lot of thinking about John, and about your
idea. It's audacious, you know. Maybe it really is time to let the bishop
know about all of us. I've got to tell you that I'm nervous about this,
I've spent most of my life in the closet, but perhaps there's safety in
numbers. So, count me in."

The others in the room nodded their heads, one by one. Consensus had
happened. Every priest in the diocese, male and female, black and white,
gay or lesbian, had decided that it was time to come out. Boy was the
bishop in for a surprise!

"Then I guess I'd better get an appointment for us to meet with the bishop.
Can I suggest that I invite him here? I'm not quite ready for all of us to
come out to the whole diocese yet. If he comes here and we meet with him
together, then there's still a little bit of cover for us. Is that OK with
you all?"

Everyone nodded again, and a somber and serious meeting quickly became a
celebration. Wine and cheese went around the room, people started chatting
energetically with each other, laughter erupted in little corners as people
shared jokes. If you didn't know, it looked like any other cocktail party
anywhere else in the city -- a group of well-dressed men and women standing
around with glasses and chatting with each other. Who would guess that they
were all clergy, and all gay or lesbian?