He was sitting at the corner table where I tended bar. His bowed head and the rosary laced through whitened knuckles were both new to me. The familiar ringing (and slightly derogatory) greeting was absent, lost somewhere in the heaving shoulders and silent sobs.
The story that unfolded was not shocking. He and his boyfriend had been having problems for weeks, and now Bill* said they were through. I have to admit that every bit of my fundamentalist upbringing was cheering, celebrating the possibility that may be now…
But my jubilation was short lived, and compassion took over. No matter how much I may have disagreed with my friend’s lifestyle - he was, and is, my friend, and friends do not celebrate another’s pain.
He held out the rosary, odd ends and disjointed beads dripping from between his fingers. “Even my faith is broke,” he choked out. I pried the chains out his hand and set to work, bending and twisting the links back into their proper order as I listened to the events that had left my friend an emotional wreck.
He finished his tale and I returned his rosary. “It’s fixed. You fixed my faith,” he gasped.
“That’s what friends do,” I quipped. In the space of heartbeat, the truth of my thoughtless words exploded through me and washed over him. For a moment, having a friend was more than enough reason to push aside his need for tears and my need to fix him.
*Not his real name.
What a beautiful story. I think that your initial, internal response is common among many people of faith, but your choice to act with love and compassion is where your friend's healing began.
ReplyDeleteBefore I continue, I want to acknowledge that you and I approach the question of same-sex relationships differently, and that's okay. I say that because, without that statement, it may seem as though what I am about to say is implying that I think gay people need to be "fixed." I do not. However, I do want to share a story that shows how life-changing simple acts of love can be.
I have a friend who struggled with alcoholism for years. He would drink himself into a blackout night after night, falling asleep in his own urine, waking up hungover and disoriented, barely enough time to make himself presentable before going to work. He worked for a Christian couple who owned a small diner, and they hired him as kitchen help. Day after day, he would walk in, hung over, likely not smelling altogether wonderful, and they would tell him they were glad he was there. They would invite him to church, but there was never any pressure. They never threatened his job. They did not overlook the problems alcoholism had created in his life, and sometimes in his job, but they did not define him by that problem. He told me that, time and again, as he scrubbed the kitchen and cried sobbed, feeling so out of control...his bosses would just say to him, "We love you."
Their consistent message was love. Their method was gentleness. My friend told me that this simple message is what began turning his life around. His anger softened as he leaned into the love these people demonstrated, and he opened his heart to God, to faith, and to change.
We never know what seeds we are planting when we show love. We never know what difference our apparently small actions will make in a person's life. In that moment, you showed your friend unconditional love, grace, and compassion. You fixed his rosary and mended his faith. You showed your friend that this life is not without pain, but it is also not without kindness, gentleness, and the reassuring presence of a friend, and that is beautiful.
I truly believe that we live from the place of our convictions and for you and me that differs. I can respect that.
DeleteI love the story of your friend and I truly believe that if more Christians responded to pain with compassion,recognizing the legitimacy of another's heart break there would be far less legitimate criticisms of our faith.
A side note: Another reason why I did not try to *fix* him is that I firmly believe that is not my place, but rather, that my only call is to show the same love and compassion demonstrated by our Lord. He will do whatever needs to be done from there.
I should also note that my use of the term broken is in reference to his pain over the broken relationship. Although,the argument could be made that we have all been broken by sin and therefore need a friend to be at our side that will love us through it.
Delete"That's what friends do." Hm.
ReplyDeleteWarning: comment may resemble a blog in and of itself.
I was watching the news last night as Seattle was again filled with video of members of the rainbow community taking to the streets in protest of the beatings and attacks just because of who they are. The mayor and the precincts are trying to think of ways to protect them.
Quite simply, friends don't get attacked. Only the enemy does. And while the Bible is clear that God isn't a fan of homosexuality, I am quite certain He's not cheering either when one of these, still one of His creations, gets treated in such a fashion.
They are still offered the gift of eternal life and should they choose to accept it, they get to go to Heaven, whether or not they change their lifestyle is between them and God. They need friends filled with equal parts truth, wisdom, and grace all wrapped up in mercy. Friends to be there even when their world is falling apart because of a breakup.
Exactly! I don't why we have this hierarchy of sin where we have placed this sin above the others. As I recall, without actually going back to check my facts, when homosexuality is called a sin, it is in a list - a list of things that includes at least one thing that I have done. God is big enough to forgive me, of what I have done and I pretty confident that he can handle everyone else out there.
DeleteI am fairly certain that is our lack of faith in God's ability that makes us so scared of those whose faith differs from our own, and when I see that fear being obeyed as in the violence you described, I question who the real god of their life is.