START OF TAPE 1, SIDE A DEC. 3, SHERRY HONEYCUTTThis is Sherry Honeycutt and I am interviewing an

Transcription

1 1 START OF TAPE 1, SIDE A ANONYMOUS DEC. 3, 1996 SHERRY HONEYCUTTThis is Sherry Honeycutt and I am interviewing an source at [a Chapel Hill Baptist church, name deleted] on December 3, This is Tape 1, Side A. This is the second interview in a two-part series that I am doing with this person. We talked in your first interview about your involvement in the student protests during one of the trustees meetings that went on at Southeastern Seminary during the Baptist Fundamentalist takeover. And I just wanted to go a little more in detail about that event. If you could, please, briefly review just the details of that demonstration and your part that you had in it. ANONYMOUS: Okay. The meeting was one of the regular meetings of the trustees, and they were this particular meeting, if I remember correctly, was the meeting when they adopted the Peace Committee report from the Southern Baptist Convention Executive Committee. They nominated a committee called the Peace Committee to address some of the issues with the controversy in the convention, when the trustees adopted, or accepted that report. And it was also the meeting in which they voted on the new president, Lewis Drummond, who succeeded Randall Lolley. There had been some sense among the students that had pretty strong feelings about what was going on, that it shouldn't be going on, that we didn't have a clear sense of what we could do to appropriately say how we were feeling about those two particular things, the adoption of the Peace Committee report and the election of the new president, so we kind of left that up to the individuals, and a good number of the women showed up wearing gags, and a good number of the men showed up with their hands bound, just in a silent symbolic gesture of what we felt like the actions of the trustees were doing to the folks who were there for theological education, preparing for ministry.

2 During one of the breaks during the trustee meeting there was a group of us who felt like we wanted to pray together. So we knelt in the center of the tables, and we prayed some together for a while-while we were still there. And we weren't praying aloud, we were all praying silently. While we were there, the trustees came back and began their meeting again and had a hard time, like we talked about before. That they just really couldn't quite get their business underway with us there. There were six students kneeling in the middle, and I think I said before that I felt like that's one of the strongest senses of the presence of God I've ever felt, kneeling there. Is that enough of a synopsis? Did you want me to finish that story? It's on the other tape. SH: That's good. What was it that was included in the Peace Committee report that you all felt like you had to protest? A: You know, I don't remember a lot of the contents of it, what I do remember is a sense of this committee had been commissioned to find a way for the different factions of the Southern Baptist Convention to continue to be a large body and do the mission and ministry work that the SBC has done for many years, and still disagree over some things. And there was a sense at least to me, that that task had not been addressed at all, and there was a sense of betrayal, and really bowing in to the fundamentalist agenda. I don't remember exactly the contents of it, but I remember this sense of it wasn't how it ought to have been. SH: Can you briefly talk about what the gags symbolized to you, and what being bound symbolized for the men and the women that were included in the protest? A: Yeah. I can't really talk too much about what the symbol was for anybody else, but I'll tell you what it was about for me. I chose to wear a gag that day for several reasons, probably the biggest one is that over and over and over, the message from the fundamentalists has been that women don't have a place in ministry. If it has anything to do with having any authority over men. And there is an incredible drive to silence the voices of us who would differ with that. So it was a symbol of what I felt like was an

3 attempt to silence the voices of not only the women, but specifically the women and more generally anyone who disagrees. So for me it was a sign to say, "I'm acknowledging that you're trying to silence my voice." When I left the trustee meeting, I left with a friend of mine, there were several of us. And one of the guys had Dr. Lolley, the former president, untie his hands. And my friend and I took off each other's gags, not because there wasn't the respect that Dr. Lolley could have done that, but it's really hard to say that a man could give us our voice back. Because they may think that they've taken them away but they have not. So it was a lot about not letting my voice be silenced, and choosing to say, "I know what you're trying to do, and I won't let it happen." I think you would probably find similar stories from the other women. I think, I would guess that for some of the men who had their hands tied, there was a sense of-we knew what was coming. We didn't have any illusion that we could change it, but we had a real sense of, there had to be a voice that said, there's another opinion. There's another side, it's a bigger picture, this isn't all of the story. So I think that probably for some of the guys, it was about an attempt to keep us from doing the things that we feel called by God to do. And they didn't feel as silenced. I think men don't feel silenced as much anyway. But they didn't feel as silenced, perhaps, as the women did. And none of the men wore gags, which was really kind of interesting to me, because there was a sense of silencing any opposition voices. SH: Before you were involved in this protest with the trustee meeting, had you been involved in any demonstrations or protests, or a kind of activism on that level before with anything? A: When you asked that question, a definition popped into my head of protest that I read when I was in college that I thought was probably one of the best ones. It dissected the word into "pro" and "testare", to speak for; to speak in favor of. In that sense, absolutely. I hadn't been involved in a similar kind of symbolic way. I had participated in some anti-nuclear peace rallies and such when I was in college, and some advocacy as far

4 4 as social justice issues are concerned, but nothing that was quite as personal to me, and quite as intense, maybe. SH: Were you afraid of what the consequences might be when you were out there, on the floor praying? Did it cross your mind? A: No. I would have been more afraid of the consequences of not doing what I felt my heart leading me to do. Throughout the whole time that I was in seminary, and all of these events were going on, a series of two years' worth of meetings and events; just that chronological time period, and all of the pieces that were a part of that. All of the events and such that were a part of that. I had a real sense of I was doing absolutely what I needed to be doing; what was right for me to do. And there was actually one meeting where there was a possibility of the trustees closing the meeting, and it was held off-campus. Which meant that had they closed the meeting and we had refused to leave, they would have had legal grounds to have us arrested for trespassing. And again, there was a sense of there wasn't unity about whether we should all stay or whether we should all leave. So we developed sort of a tiered plan, that people who didn't feel comfortable staying would leave and go outside and hold a prayer vigil. And those of us who felt comfortable staying would stay. And I was perfectly willing to do that as well. It was just so important that was a real formative time for me, because I was starting to get my own voice. I had the voices of my childhood and my growing up. And I had the voices that I had started to sort of listen to, and gain some, when I was in college, and then, all of a sudden I have not only something right in front of my face that caused me to use that voice, but events that effect me and effect a large range of people. Because we're talking about the people in the churches that we are called to serve. You know, that those of us who were preparing for ministry at Southeastern Seminary would be serving. The differences in Southeastern Seminary make a difference for the individuals in those churches. And the reaches are just staggering to me. If you have a pastor who doesn't have any sense of social justice and social ministry, then you don't have a church that puts

5 5 the priority on that. If you have a pastor who has a sense of part of the mission of the church is to care for the community and the world, then you have a church that is more energized, and more led to minister. To do the things that the gospel of Matthew talks about, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, and visit the prisoners. I'm giving you a long, rambly answer to this question [Laughs]. The fact that these were just small events in my life had a connection to such a broader picture that it was just something that I had to be a part of. I never had any thought of "what's going to happen to me if I do this?" It was more of a sense of "what will happen if I don't do this?" And not just to me, but to the school that I care about, to my friends who are here preparing for ministry, and to the people whose lives will be affected by this that we'll never know about. SH:What do you think came about as a result of your involvement in this? Do you think that it made the trustees sit up and take notice? And do you think that the things that you were trying to get across to them actually did get across to them? A: [Laughs] They couldn't help but notice. And it unnerved them sometimes. Just like the trustee meeting that I was talking about where we were praying and they couldn't really do their work with a group of students kneeling quietly on the floor. It didn't make any difference to them. They had an agenda, and it was really, really obvious when you watched the meetings happen. It was almost choreographed. You could almost guess who was going to make which motion, and who would second it, and how every person on the floor would vote. Probably what happened because of it was that people knew more of what people outside of the seminary had more of a sense of what was going on, because we were able to tell the story from more than just the minutes of the trustee meeting. Nothing that we could have done would have made a difference to the outcome of anything. So it was just more important to know that we had a part in telling a more whole-not the whole but a more whole story. SH: What kind of response was there from the students on campus and the professors after you knew that you were involved in the demonstration?

6 6 A:The faculty was very, very supportive. They were very unified in their stance. As a matter of fact it was, at the time, one of the very few schools in the country that had a hundred percent membership in the AAUP, American Association of University Professors. They were very, very supportive of what the students did, and very thankful for the student support of the work that they were doing. And what was the other part that you just asked? Students There wasn't a lot of difference. We'd been involved in meetings and various signs and actions to kind of do the same symbolic sorts of things that we did at this meeting, not as intensely as that happened. That just happened to be one of those "chairos" moments where everything sort of culminated right there. But there were also some little stories along the side. I was with a friend of mine a day or two afterwards, and a guy stopped us in the hall and said, "I wanted to ask,"-- she [Interviewee's friend] was one of the students who was a part of this prayer he said "I wanted to ask you something," and it wasn't somebody I knew his face, I didn't really know who he was, and he introduced himself. And he said, "I was sitting this morning at breakfast with some of the members of the CEF"~that's the Conservative Evangelical Fellowship, the fundamentalist students on campus- "and they were talking about what ya'll did at the trustees meeting. That it was really just to draw attention to yourselves, and this kind of thing. The other thing they were talking about was how many people they have baptized. And I didn't hear them talk a lot about much more, but just how many people they've baptized." He said, "Before I form an opinion about all of this, I want to know why you did what you did." And we told him that it was about a strong feeling of needing to call ourselves into the presence of God. In a situation where we felt very pushed out to the edges of the process that was going on in the midst of our academic community, and in a situation where we felt like what was happening is wrong. And we needed to be able to talk to God in that situation. And we needed to have a collective way of saying that "we're here kneeling in the presence of God, and we're hurting."

7 7 His response was, "I'm a pretty conservative person, theologically. But I can be much more connected with that I can with the people I was sitting at breakfast with this morning, because all they were concerned about was numbers, and they weren't concerned about the people that they were baptizing. And so if that's what it was about, I need to go find a yellow ribbon,"-- which was the symbol that we wore,-- "so that I can wear it." That was a unique response, that was the only response of that kind, but I thought it was also rather powerful in that there was that sense that he didn't believe the same thing I did theologically, but we could agree that what needs to happen is we need to be more concerned about how people are treated rather than political agendas and how many numbers of people we bring into the church. SH: How did you feel whenever he told you that that group of men had been sitting around and had claimed that the reason you were doing this was to bring attention to yourself? A: Not an uncommon assertion from some of those guys, at least about the women on campus. It just sort of rolled off. It's not something I paid that much attention to, except the way it had had an impact on him. It didn't make-it didn't evoke much. SH: When you participated in this prayer in the trustees' meeting, your sexuality was not public then at Southeastern. Did the fact that you are a lesbian have anything to do with your participation in the demonstration? A: I guess the fact that I am lesbian has something to do with everything I do. I wouldn't have named myself "lesbian" at that point. So I don't really know if I can-that would take a whole lot more time to go back and dissect than I think we have. I do think that my sexuality is certainly intrinsic in everything I do. It's not the sole part of everything I do, it's just another piece of who I am. And I don't know what kind of bearing it might have had on that. SH: How about your faith? What role did your faith play in this demonstration. It sounds like it had a lot to do with it.

8 8 A: Yeah, it did. The prayer had more to-played more of a role in the development of my faith. Probably, than my faith necessarily played in that act. Though, for me, it was an act of faith. It was an act of faith in a God that can come right in the middle of something that I really considered evil. Because I think that the way people were treated in that whole process was just wrong. Just absolutely without love and without compassion. And my faith is definitely in a God who calls us to love, and who calls us to compassion for everyone. Whether we agree or not. And it's also in a God who says, "You can come to me wherever you are. You can come and sit in my lap. And I'll put my arms around you, and I'll listen to you, to what's in your heart." And so, the act itself, the prayer itself, the kneeling together with my friends there, was an act of faith. It also was something that enhanced my faith. Because I went there knowing that and I left absolutely knowing it. Just an overwhelming sense of the presence of God, that God is, indeed, in every situation. And probably the passage of scripture that comes up for me when I think about that is, "Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Death nor life, nor powers or principalities or angels or things past or things to come. Nothing can separate us from the love of God." So probably that event was the most clear testament to that that I've experienced in my life. SH: You mentioned briefly that you were out there to protest the way people were being treated, and you thought that that was evil. What exactly was the treatment, and who were the people that were receiving it? A: I don't know that I would say that I was out there to protest the way that people were being treated. I really was there to pray. And if that was seen as a protest, then that's okay. Because it was a prayer speaking for what I thought was right, and against what I thought was wrong. The fundamentalist trustees came into Southeastern once they had a majority on the Board, and it was very clear that there would be an expectation of any faculty member to sign a document saying that "these are the things that I believe, and I will teach." Well that's not that wasn't entirely new, because there

9 9 was an Abstract of Principles that the faculty at Southeastern had already signed. They wanted to change that. It was a demand for conformity, and intolerance for anyone who challenged that conformity. Which is why Randall Lolley was forced to resign, and a good many of the other administrators as well. Students were treated as though we didn't matter anyway. That our voices didn't matter, that our opinions didn't matter. The sense of "the right is mine to do this." One of the trustees that I spoke with talked to me about having been a police officer and carrying a gun, and having the authority to kill in the context of his authority as a trustee at Southeastern. There was just real disregard for community, and not even an acknowledgment that there was community to be had. Sort of a bulldozing through and tearing down of anything that didn't match the party line. SH: Who made up your sense of community at Southeastern that you just mentioned? A: I have rarely spoken to anyone who has been in school, graduate school or undergraduate school, that has had the sense of community that we had while we were at Southeastern. It was administration, it was staff, it was faculty, it was students. You were just as apt on any given morning to walk into the corner restaurant and find an administrator, two or three faculty members, and a handful of students sitting down to breakfast together, as you were to find them all in a classroom together. So it really was everyone. There wasn't much of a class delineation. And the strongest community was probably certainly among my peers, the other students, and those of us who supported each other and who worked together. But there was a sense of that reaching across, in both the directions, faculty and administration and staff to students as well as studentsvice versa. SH: Do you see yourself now as an activist? A: Probably not in the sense of-you probably won't find me in the front of the picket lines most of the time, though you might- but I guess I do consider myself an activist, because almost everywhere I am, and any group I'm in, I'm working for the

10 10 things that I feel, out of my own experience, and my own faith, and my own understanding of God's leadership in my life, the things that I feel are justice issues, and the ways that people are treated injustly. And so I guess, in some sense, yes, though maybe not in the classic term of being an activist. SH: Do you think that in your activist you are looking for a spiritual home as a person who is a lesbian-as a Southern Baptist who is a lesbian, or that you are just an activist that happens to be a lesbian? A: I've never really thought about it. Hmm. I don't think that I could separate my spirituality from my activism. It's just tightly woven together. I don't know that I wouldn't have a sense of activism if I weren't a person who has a strong spiritual bent. But for me, along my life's journey, it's just been essential. I don't know of any other way to do that. I don't know that I'm looking for a spiritual home as I am living in the spiritual home that I have. I find that living out my faith every day often requires speaking up when something is not right. It seems like that's what Jesus did. He didn't-he certainly didn't tow the party line, and he upset all of the religious leaders of his day. And he did that out of compassion and love for the people who were ostracized in his community. I don't think I could call myself Christian and do anything any differently. Now, that doesn't mean I always get it. But when I do, and I fail to speak, I'm very aware that I have failed. When I do get it, and I speak, I am also aware that it's out of a sense of calling to act justly and love mercifully and walk humbly with God. SH: Have there been times when you haven't followed that calling to speak or to stand up to something. If so, how did you feel about that? A: Oh, I'm sure there have been zillions of them. I'm a coward a lot of times. Yeah, there have been and I can't think of an instance right offhand. But I know that I've had that feeling of "I really missed an opportunity here." Well, I can give you a for instance. I grew up in a small town in South Carolina, and I grew up a child of the sixties. I was among the first kids in elementary school in my town that went to an integrated

11 11 school. And I grew up in a community with very racist attitudes. And when I go back there, some of my family members my extended family members still speak, and in their talking they convey some of those racist attitudes. They know very clearly that I don't appreciate that, but I don't always say, "That was a really racist statement." Or, "those words aren't' words that I'm willing to listen to" or "it's wrong to say those things about a group of people because of the color of their skin." I don't always say that. And I feel like I'm letting God down, and letting my brothers and sisters down when I don't. Sometimes it's hard, especially with family, to balance activism with family harmony, and still calling folks into an awareness of what it means to be part of the human family. SH: Okay, let's switch gears a little bit here now. We talked some in your previous interview about your ordination and your membership at [a Chapel Hill Baptist church, name deleted] here. When you first were ordained, your first job, if I am correct, as a minister, was as an Associate Minister out at the small church in Orange County? Why was it that you finally left that church? A: I served that church for about four years, part-time. I took not long before I resigned I took a leave of absence to kind of discern what the next step for me was. I was feeling very much like I wasn't being very effective in the church any more. There had been a change in leadership in the church, the former pastor had left. I had worked through the interim time with the interim pastor, and there was an interim pastor. He and I-we worked okay together, there wasn't any animosity or anything between us, but he was working to establish himself as the pastor and I think that was a little hard because I was so connected with the former pastor. So there were some pieces of that left over. The main reason I left was really feeling like, that I wasn't the person that they needed, and that I wasn't in the position that I needed to be in at the time. Looking back, I can say that that would have happened eventually anyway. Because I wouldn't have been willing to come out to that congregation. Not because I don't want them to know but because it would be more difficult in that church for them to deal with it, and it would have caused

12 12 more division than someone who could come in and do some education slowly over a good many years. Change could come better than having their associate minister come out. [Laughs] So I think that would have happened eventually as I came to understand myself as lesbian and know myself a little better. I think that I would have resigned anyway just because I'm not willing to serve a congregation that I can't be out to, and they weren't at a place where I could be out to them yet, and I really wasn't at a place with them that I could come out at. SH: What was it about that congregation? How would they have reacted? What signs did they give that make you think that they would have not been ready for you to come out to them? A: I think there would have been some people in the congregation that would have been very supportive, and really, it would have been okay. I think that they would have been few in number. The reason I say that is that there was a woman who came and spoke with one of the pastors that I worked with there who was lesbian about coming to the church. And I talked with her briefly too. And he really told her that if she wanted to be there and be out that it would be a very hard place for her to be. He didn't tell her not to come. He was being sort of up front about the reality of the congregation there. It's a fairly progressive congregation for a rural Southern Baptist church. Just the fact that they participated in my ordination says that they are somewhat progressive, and that's due to the leadership of the pastor. I think a lot of it has to do with the pastor who was there for a good many years, who did exactly what I was saying before. Spent the time educating folks about issues and about the theological foundations of some of the changes that happened while he was there. No one said, "we're not going to do that." And I actually came at the subject of sexuality with a Sunday School class a time or two. Mostly through talking about people with AIDS. And there's enough compassion and love in that church that there's not condemnation. But there's also probably not a lot of acceptance either.

13 13 SH: So at the time when you actually left did it have anything to do with your sexuality, and your realization that you are a lesbian? A: It probably did, though I wouldn't have articulated that, and I still can't pinpoint that being a piece of it. Again, it's just a part of everything, and I think it certainly was a part of my feeling that I wasn't where I needed to be. And I wasn't able to be the minister they needed at the time. SH: You mentioned before that now you would not be a Senior Minister for a congregation that did not know that you are out. Do you plan to look for a congregation any time in the near future? And if you do, how do you plan to let them know? A: Yeah, I will. Yeah, I do. I plan to-and I actually, all along the way sort of keep my eyes and ears open. You kind of know which churches for the most part that would be open, and if there are positions open. Unfortunately most of them are far from here and I don't want to move right now, so my choices are a little limited. I don't know how I would let them know. I think that from the beginning it would be important that they know. I don't want to get into a process where we've built a relationship and then spring something on them where it gets to be a mess. I don't think I'll put it on my resume [laughs] but I also don't think that I would hide it at all. Actually, my sense is that sexuality, and especially homosexuality, is such a volatile issue in the church that it's going to come up in most interviews. And I think I probably would have an opportunity to talk about who I am and how I got where I am. SH: In the first interview that we did, you described yourself as being "stubbornly Baptist." The Baptist church-the Southern Baptist Church has recently expelled both [a Chapel Hill Baptist Church and a Raleigh Baptist church, names deleted] from the denomination because of their standpoints on homosexuality. What is it about the Southern Baptist Church that makes you consider yourself "stubbornly Baptist?" A: Well, right now it's not much about the Southern Baptist Convention, or any Southern Baptist church. When I say I consider myself "stubbornly Baptist," there's a little

14 14 "b" on the Baptist, [laughs] I don't claim to be any kind of Baptist, just a Baptist at this point. I have a deep root that is just dug in the soil of Baptist tradition. The priesthood of all believers, and sole liberty, and the separation of church and state, and a sense of autonomy, of individuals and of communities of faith as they define themselves and a sense that all of us have equal ability and access to interpreting God's revelation, however that might come. And I just refuse to give those up, just because somebody else took my denomination away and changed it into something different; I won't call myself anything other than Baptist. Not because of any dying loyalty to the SBC, but just because I really believe that those are important pieces to hold onto, and I think that they are of God. A group of folks that I have sort of a peripheral relationship with are the Quakers. They talk about "that of God." And I think those things are of God. I think that they are a part of the way Christians can live out our journey and community. By respecting each other's equal stance before God, and equal stance in the world. That no one is better or worse, that we all really do come at this from an equal playing field. We've created some imbalances in that, but God does not. And it's important to me to add that piece on to my identity as a Christian and as a person of spirit. To say that not only am I Christian, and not only do I feel a sense of spirituality, and experience a sense of spirituality in myself as a spiritual being, but also I define it within these boundaries, and those are about being Baptist. SH: You also mentioned before that you couldn't leave the Baptist church, because I had asked if you had ever considered leaving due to what was happening. And you said that there would be "no place for you to go." What exactly did you mean by that? A: I don't run away from things a lot; I do run to things. And I have, at points along the way, found places to run to that have been just wonderful places for renewal and relationship and reconciliation. What I meant by, "there really isn't a place to run to" is just that there's not any place that's any easier, so why go somewhere new, and why leave my own people? So, here I am. [Laughs]

15 15 SH: Would you ever consider being a minister for a homosexual congregation? A: I won't say that I'd never consider being a minister anywhere. Well, there probably are some places that I might. God doesn't take kindly to "never" I don't think. [Laughs] I really prefer more of a diverse group of people, I mean, that's why I choose to be a part of this congregation, rather than going to MCC, for instance, that's predominantly a gay church. Not exclusively, but prominently. I enjoy attending worship over there occasionally and I've preached over there occasionally, at the MCC in Raleigh. But I really value the more diverse, at least from my perspective, a more diverse congregation. That includes gay and straight folks, and folks of different racial and ethnic groups, and classes, and educational background, and such. SH: What have your sermons been about whenever you went over to preach at the MCC, and could you clarify what MCC stands for? A: MCC stands for Metropolitan Community Church. The last sermon I preached over there was just a few weeks ago. It sprang out of an experience that I had here. Last year during Lent, a group of folks from Binkley did "Godspell"~the musical "Godspell." And at the very end there's this wonderful, just sort of gripping scene, where it's the crucifixion scene where Jesus stands and his arms are stretched out and he sings, "Oh, God I'm dying, Oh, God, I'm dying," and all of the people are gathered around, all of his followers, and they're standing there at what would be the foot of the cross, and they sing, "Oh God, he's dead, Oh God, he's dead." And they pick him up and they carry him out through the church, through the people, and it's just this pained, long, slow, funeral -like procession. And we all know the rest of the story, but this was during Holy Week, this was not after Easter. And that was the end. And this little girl turned around and whispered, "Are they going to bring God back?" So I used that as a springboard for my sermon about how we bring God into the lives of others and how we take God away. And what might the world look like one day if no one took God away. So that was the last sermon I preached over there.

16 16 SH: Do you consider yourself-within the church-a leader in the movement for gay rights? A: Hmm. I have participated in a lot of religious contexts with groups that work for gay rights especially within the church. I guess I see myself as much a participant as a leader. I think that just by virtue of being lesbian I do have a sense of a different voice to bring because most of the groups that I have been connected with are mostly straight. And I don't know that I see myself so much a leader as just sort of a person who can bring another voice, and who is willing to-one of the things that I focus most on at this point in my life, and this hasn't always been true, I fluctuate from rage to passivity to a strong since of reconciliation-and where I am right now is with [a Chapel Hill Baptist church, name deleted], and with the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America. Finding a way for gay and lesbian and bisexual folks to be parts of those groups along with people who aren't really quite comfortable with that yet. I really believe that there is a way for all of us to be in the human family together and in God's family together. And to sit next to each other on Sunday morning and sing out of the same hymn book. I don't have a great need for everyone to agree with me. What I do have a need for is for us to find the places where we have some common ground. So the place I find myself right now is working on a lot of reconciliation. And I do think that I have some sense of leading. At least in that arena. But I'm also not the person who's standing up every Sunday going, "this is what we have to do." I guess just by virtue of being lesbian I have to have some leadership role, but it's not a self-claimed role, so to speak. SH: What rights do you think that homosexuals do not have in the church, and just in life in general that you are fighting for? Or that you are helping to reconcile? A: Oh, well, just where can we start? END OF TAPE 1, SIDE A

17 17 TAPE 2, SIDE B SHERRY HONEYCUTT: This is Tape 1, Side B of an source. A: In the US, right now, I guess legal marriage is a big one. The same week that the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in Congress, another Act that would have not allowed discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation as far as employment is concerned was defeated. So you know, I could lose my job, I could lose my apartment; I don't have if my partner has a child I can't be a legal parent of that child, probably. There are a few cases where that's happened, but not many. Down to the littlest things. Insurance. You know, if I lose my job I can't be on my partner's insurance. Filing income taxes. What do you put on the form that says marital status? Single, Married, Divorced, and Widowed. There's not a category. There's just any number of things. Within the church, I think there's~you know, the whole question of those -what, seven passages in the Bible. It has minimal reference to homosexual practice, action, behavior. And the context that that's in, well, that's a whole other discussion. We won't get into that. In the church, there's the question of ordination. Just the fact that you would ask a question about one tiny part of who someone is, and let that be the one determining factor of whether or not you're going to ordain that person. Regardless of their gifts for ministry, regardless of their sense of calling, and your acknowledgment of that; regardless of their preparedness and their effectiveness as a minister. That one thing. I have a friend who, for over twenty years, has been working toward ordination. And has met with ordination counsel after ordination counsel. And has been told repeatedly, your theology is sound. Your giftedness is evident. But you're gay. We won't ordain you. For twenty years. And how do you go from there? If that one thing is the determining factor of whether or not we're going to say that we believe that you are, indeed, gifted and called to ministry. How else are you going to talk about the rights of gay and lesbian people in the church? If you even have to ask, would we welcome a gay person in the church? It's a child of God; it's

18 18 not a gay person; it's a child of God. I don't know. It's not so much about rights as it is about respect for everybody in the human family. And again, back to the sense that we are, indeed, all equal. We make different choices. We are born in different manifestations of the image of God. But we are essentially all a part of the human family. And there's a tendency to define ourselves by who we aren't. We aren't like "them." We are us. And when you put us and them into our vocabulary, then it's easy to push people out and deny them rights. And deny them access to our groups and our clubs, and our, you know, whatever. So for me I guess it's not so much about winning rights as it is about everybody having a place at the table. SH: What special qualities do you think that it takes for a person to be an effective gay and lesbian rights activist in a place like the Southern Baptist Church? A: I don't know that anybody can be effective in the Southern Baptist church at this point. In a Southern Baptist church, actually, I think probably folks could. Within the Southern Baptist Convention I don't even think that there's a reason to work there right now. I think a lot of patience and understanding, a toughness. There has to be a toughness because what comes at you is often very hurtful. When you're told over and over and over again that you're an abomination before God. You know, that God hates what you do. You have to have some sense of confidence in who you are and your own faith. And you also have to allow the questions; you have to allow some doubt. For me, faith is defined as leaving room for doubt. It's not adherence to a doctrine. It's following my own I have nothing to rely on but my own understanding of God's revelation in my life. And that revelation comes certainly out of community and out of the things that I read, and out of the sermons I hear, and out of the conversations I have and out of the Bible that I read. But I really ultimately just have to rely on my own interpretation of what all of that is. And I have to have a lot of confidence that I move forward when I believe that I understand as much as I can in this moment what God is trying to tell me. And when other people disagree with me, I have to respect that they probably are at that

19 19 same place in their life. And both of us can't be right. So probably we're both a little bit right and a little bit wrong, and faith just requires that we live with that tension. And hope that we do gain something of clarity and wisdom along the way. I think it takes a lot of what I have found necessary to work with in religious groups as a person who speaks out on gay and lesbian issues is a willingness to educated folks when you really think they ought to do it themselves. A willingness to stand there and go over and over again, the same things, until somebody gets it. I had an instance happen this week with a group of people, where someone was talking about what it means to be inclusive, and when we include folks, we talk about being inclusive as far as sexual orientation is concerned, and in the same sentence, talked about being inclusive of people who might have some unscrupulous business practices, or an adulterer who may or may not be repentant. And I had to stop this person and say, what you just said really hurts. Because what you've said is you put me in the same category-just because of who I am, not because of how I act with someone who chooses to be unscrupulous in their business practice, and who chooses to cheat on their partner or their spouse. Well, she was mortified when I said that, because she didn't realize that's what she'd said. It takes a willingness to challenge folks in a loving way, and recognize that it's going to hurt people when you say that because they're going to be called to recognize their own ignorance. And that sometimes it's necessary to do that in the presence of others so that a broader piece is gained. One is that I'm not going to sit and listen to someone say those things about me without calling that and two is that it's important to say it out loud. I said in this group that I needed to say something, because I couldn't leave with it out of that group. And it's a group of people that are very loving, and it's a very safe place for me to challenge someone like that. And I knew she went away feeling very badly. And she said to me after the meeting was over with, "I have to grieve over hurting you, and I apologize." Well, I didn't need an apology from her. And I told her, "It's not necessary but it's certainly accepted. It would be very disrespectful for me to let you say that and not let

20 you know what I heard and how it felt to me." So it takes a kind of willingness to just kind of put yourself out there and say things that are hard sometimes, and listen to things that are hard to hear. It takes relying on God to get you through sometimes. I get real tired. I get very tired. But I know-it's the same thing, because it's about justice that I can't quit. I can take a break, and I can rest when I need to, and I can gather all of my healing resources around me when I need to, but I can't quit. I can't quit for myself, and for my gay and lesbian brothers and sisters. And I can't quit for folks whose skin color keeps them out and whose economic status keeps them out, or keeps them down, or whose geographic location does, or whose location in the range of education does. I can't not do that. SH: When you get discouraged when you have to do things like that, and when you get tired, as you mentioned a minute ago, what do you do what kinds of things do you do to restore your ability to keep on going, and to keep on calling people on things like this? A: I gather my friends around me, I keep in contact with folks that know what I'm doing day-to-day, and talk with them and listen to them and let them be my support. I participate in this congregation. As much as it is a struggle sometimes, it is a respite sometimes. I pray. I sit and just be quiet. I listen to music. Just whatever I need to do at the time. I take a long bath. I talk about, to the people who are making me feel discouraged about feeling discouraged and why. So that we can move past that when I have the energy to do that. I look for ways to do the processes that need to happen well, so that we don't all get bogged down in them. So that we come to a place where folks find the connectedness of our journeys rather than just butting heads all the time and saying who's right and who's wrong. Finding ways for there to be room for all of us. And, again, that includes people who are different from me. I don't want a place where I am welcome and someone else is not. When I preached at MCC a few weeks ago, one of the texts that I used was 23 rd Psalm, and the verse in there that "you prepare a table before me in the

21 21 presence of my enemies." Well, this was right before the election, and I hadn't really prepared this as part of the sermon it just kind of got there. And I don't usually manuscript a sermon anyway because if I do then I don't preach what's there. The spirit just sort of gets in there. I preach what I've prepared but not word-for-word out of a manuscript. And one of the things that just evolved during the sermons was talking about how I can't imagine myself sitting down at a table with Jesse Helms and enjoying dinner with him. But I believe in a God who can set a table and put my place and his place beside each other and love both of us equally. And that there's bound to be some place where we have something in common that we could build on. Now, that's God's work, and I'm just not about putting much energy into it these days. [Laughs] Because I find him despicable. I find him very hate-filled and judgmental. But I believe in a God who loves him as much as he loves me. I believe in a God who cares about Jesse as much as she cares about me. I believe in a God who really can set the table and have both of us there, and we'd both be equal children. I can't quite get there but I can believe in a God who can. SH: Have you had any people that you have looked to for inspiration, any role models throughout your activism? A: Hmm. Well, there are a lot of people that I look to, and I look to them mostly because I find them to be people of great integrity, and who speak their convictions clearly and unwaveringly. And who listen with openness. One of the people that I always think about immediately who is just a hero of mine her name is Anne Neil, and she is sort of the grandmother of Southern Baptist women in ministry. She's a retired missionary from Africa, and she lives in Wake Forest. And she has a sense of just kind of saying things that need to be said, in a very respectful and compassionate way. And I've admired that about her for a long, long time. And the other thing that I admire about her is her commitment to doing, again, what she believes is God's leading in her life. I have a lot of people who have influenced me along the way. Friends, and people who just pop into my life for a short period of time and pop out. I have people who are longtime friends, and people who I

22 22 don't even know personally, and who I look to fbr-to model something that they have shown in their life. I don't name a lot of heroes, but I can name a lot of characteristics of heroes that I have gainedfrompeople. SH: Would you mind talking about what some of those characteristics are? A: Well, the things that I just said about Anne, probably, are among the top. People of integrity and courage and compassion. One of the things that I learned most from my parents is integrity, and doing what you know is right, even if you know no one else will everfindout and nobody's watching. Being honest, and being forthright and fair in dealing with people. Being courageous enough to say the things that are hard to say and that are unpopular. Following-well, if I were preaching a sermon I would say following a carpenter from Galilee rather than the powers that be in the church. Just folks who take seriously their beliefs. And who live them not just talk about them, and not just give some cursory attention to them, but who really live them day-to-day. And whose life exemplifies and who admit their faults. I hate to fail, and I hate to do anything that I know I'm not going to be good at. I guess that's just one of those characterflawsthat most of us have. But Ifindan awful lot of grace when I can say, "I really screwed that up, and I'm sorry." It's only in recent history that I have been able to do that. And it's because I have been shown an awful lot of grace, and I have seen that modeled by other folks who really are willing to say, "I said that and it was a lousy thing to say," or "I did that and it was the wrong thing to do." One of the characteristics that I really admire in people is calling people to be accountable, and at the same time offering grace when folks aren't quite up to snuff. SH: What is one main thing that you hope to accomplish, or that you hope that maybe you already have accomplished through your activism, and through your speaking to people about gay and lesbian rights and your work in the church with it? A: The image that always comes up for me is that there's a place at the table for everybody. So I guess the thing that I hope that I accomplish is saying that not only am I

23 23 demanding that you respect my place at the table, but I am also demanding that you have a place at the table too, and that that be respected. I don't know if I could sum up the one thing that I want to happen. I could give you sort of a utopic sense of what the family of God looks like, or what the human family, what the world could look like. Realistically, what I hope happens is that folks are able to hear one person's story about what it's like to be a part of a community of faith, and at different parts along my journey, how that's been a blessing and how that's been a painful experience. So that there's one more piece of understanding. There's a wonderful story about the angel that brought the crystal of truth. And on the way to bringing the crystal of truth to humanity, the angel stumbled and the crystal shattered. And everybody got a little piece of it. So I guess what I really want to do is bring my piece of truth so that it can be combined with others so we get a little bigger picture of what truth really is. And the truth that I'm talking about is what I think Jesus was talking about when he talked about the truth will set you free. We can't know the whole truth, because none of us have the whole truth. But we can bring the pieces that we understand as truth, and we can work out our faith together as community, and respect our faith individually, each other's faith individually, and get closer to the truth. So that we don't have a need to set any people above other people. And so folks really are so you do get to that utopic idea of everybody actually being treated equally and being respected equally and being loved equally and having enough to eat and having a warm place to sleep and having family and friends around to support them. That's the idea. The day-today, practical, individual reality of it is, along the way if we keep telling our stories we'll find out that we're a lot more alike than we are different. SH: Okay, is there anything else that you want to add, or that you want to say that we haven't covered? A: I don't think so; I think we've gone quite far. END OF INTERVIEW