Friday, April 3, 2009

The Great Cloud

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
--Hebrews 12:1


Today I received an email from a church friend, in which he passed along an article by a Christian who also struggles against homosexuality. It begins:
In 1947, the great English poet W. H. Auden wrote a letter to his friend Ursula Niebuhr in which he confessed: “I don’t think I’m over-anxious about the future, though I do quail a bit before the possibility that it will be lonely. When I see you surrounded by family and its problems, I alternate between self-congratulation and bitter envy.” The root of Auden’s fear of loneliness and his envy of the comforts of family is not hard to uncover: Auden was a homosexual Christian. And this dual identity created a tension for him: As a Christian of a relatively traditional sort, he believed homosexuality missed the mark of God’s good design for human flourishing. But as a homosexually oriented person, despite his Christian beliefs, he craved intimacy and companionship with other men. Caught on the horns of a dilemma like that, what was he to do with his loneliness?
Four years before writing to Niebuhr, Auden corresponded with another friend, Elizabeth Mayer. He described to her how he felt inescapably “different” from others because of his preference for same-sex relations: “There are days when the knowledge that there will never be a place which I can call home, that there will never be a person with whom I shall be one flesh, seems more than I can bear.”
The author goes on to explore his own desperate loneliness without a life partner, but also celebrates the platonic friendships that have pulled him through hard times. (Click here for the full article, which while not the best crafted piece of writing, is illuminating and honest. Helpful for anyone not familiar with the intersection of Christianity and homosexuality--and encouraging for those who are.)

"The article helped me understand the importance of supporting you in your journey," my friend wrote. "I hope I can walk alongside you and be the kind of friend described here." His email provided one of those rare opportunities to experience the "great cloud" of the faithful who encourage me to fix my eyes on Jesus.

If such exhortation were the sole influence on my thinking, my bifurcated life, though not simple, would certainly be simpler. But with secular friends like Aurora and Nadia, who are just as happy to incline me in the opposite direction, choices become obfuscated.

These two competing great clouds of witnesses are certainly clouding the issue.

2 comments:

  1. Point taken regarding the so-called secularity of A&N. I think this categorization stems from:
    1. While Aurora & Nadia are not necessarily "unspiritual," (I think) their advice to me tends to come from non-religious place--or at least from a set of beliefs different than mine.

    2. Honestly, I think I was a little lazy in searching for a better term.

    3. It set up a clearer dichotomy to say "Christian" and "secular," rather than finding another word.

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  2. Yeah, I think "a set of beliefs different than yours" is right. Because not every religion (or branch of Christianity?) denounces homosexuality, right?

    Personally, I think part of being a good Christian is accepting and loving people for who they are...at least that's what I think Jesus would have wanted (Though, I think this as a non-Christian, so add some grains of salt.) I guess I grew up believing that being "Christian" was analogous with this kind of acceptance, which is why I get so confused about the conflict of interest. And! Why be part of a church who doesn't accept you. I think church is wrong, not you. :)

    But, alas, I am but a heathen. (Seriously, I kinda am. No religious background save four years of Catholic school, and I didn't even get blessed at Mass sometimes.)

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