Good Friday- 2010

Today's poem was written in remembrance of Rev. Roger Victoria. Roger was in his last year of seminary in San Francisco as I started my first. Some years later, at the Installation service of my current church, I was surprised to see Roger in attendance. He was serving a small church in the same Presbytery.

But that church dismissed him upon learning that Roger was gay. Roger went to Colorado where he worked in a motel while writing. He sought a call but without success. The Committee of Ministry of this Presbytery wearied of Roger and refused to validate a ministry of writing, placing his ordination in jeopardy.

At the time I was the Stated Clerk of the Presbytery. Although I did not have a voice at the table, I am sorry that I did not more fully express what I felt at the time--that Roger needed compassion not polity. I believed at the time that Roger would be fine. He would write. He would find a new calling.

Roger took his own life. I did not know Roger well. I do not know what other contributing factors led up to his decision to end his life. But I do know the church did not do enough to affirm Roger's humanity, to reach out to him, to understand his pain rather than his status on the membership role. There are exceptions, but by and large the Church universal continues to do a terrible job of affirming the common humanity of gay and lesbian persons. It is truly time to see beyond such distinctions and welcome all people--regardless of sexual orientation--into full participation in Christ's church. Because the truth is---as far as Christ is concerned--they are already there.

I wrote this poem after hearing of Roger's death.

Remembrance

For Roger Victoria

You brought us your pain,

an offering

anger clanking

like loose change,

bills folded,

creased despair

defiance, a check

that will not clear.

We ignored your poetry

sacred texts

a swaddled babe

awkward in our arms

deaf to its cry

eager to meet the demands

of our own bleating lambs.

We refused you the sacrament.

You created your own.

Were you at table

or in the garden alone

knees bent

hands clasped

around the steely host.