Friday, April 14, 2006

In Response

I am not one to copy and paste blog here, but this thread from Bring it On today got me going. It started with a thoughtful post by JET:

April 13th, 2006
Jesus Walked into a Gay Bar…
by Jet @ 12:00 am

Tolerance is a requirement for human development. We demand it of our children, encourage it in our workplaces, study it in our spiritual quests, and enact it (theoretically) in our lives. Kids have to sit, work and play together, or face discipline in the classroom. Co-workers of disparate backgrounds have to figure out how to bring projects to fruition. People intent on spiritual development dedicate themselves to looking past the outer to the inner person, to see the individual rather than the packaging.

Sounds pretty good, eh?

Read The Rest Of The Post

The threads are here, click if you wish to read

my response to these threads is as follows:

Steve, et al

I have refrained from weighing in on this issue/post, for I felt a bit too close, but once again, steve, your zealousness to peer from the right, here, and poke at the left, has left me no alternative.

I did not choose to wake up at 15 with a Gay Dad, anymore than my Dad chose to wake up Gay. Obviously choices were made. Let’s examine, and all you Gay bashing, worldly brilliant, Life learned 22 year old scholars, follow along, ok? My Dad was born in West Texas, a very conservative and unforgiving stretch of the Bible Belt. He was born to a set of pioneering spirits, his mom a very strong church going woman. His Dad, much like me, a good fellow, kind to all, and a bit too fond of the Wild Turkey perhaps? All of my Dad’s young life, into adulthood, he strove to please his parent’s, his mom especially I suppose. He studied, read, attended church, and even went into the Seminary when the “demons” became too strong. Life in America did not afford this Free Man, to be free with what seemed right, so to exsponge the demons, he became a Preacher. I grew up the son of a Preacher, he was the spiritual leader of the small towns we lived in. He married some, buried some, and succesfully comforted more than a few. All the time while fathering my sister, brother and I. And he was miserable. He went to work at SMU in Dallas, enhanced our status, prospered, raised kids, upheld and exceeded in obligations, and was miserable.

Almost to the day when I left the house at the ripe age of 15, he took his turn, it was 1975. He left home.

My Dad is the sweetest, kindest, most level headed man you might ever have an occasion to meet. He still offers comfort to those in need, does what work is available with the local church in accceptance of Gays, and stands head and shoulders above most of us for one simple reason. He made a choice. His choice was to live the life that God, adam, ID, or ‘Professor Smoot’, gave him, and to stop living a lie.

I strive each day to emulate such wisdom and courage, and thank the heavens above for letting me be priveledge to such an inspirational man in such a troubled world.

So, no steve, he never molested me or the other little children of the church, and yes, here once again I will allow you to stand on principle and fight the good cause for the good Christian right. Just know that my Dad, as are many others, is and was a great contributor to society, a great Christian, an inspiration to his children, and yes, Gay. By good choice I suppose, thank God.

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