I have waited all quarter for the promised discussion of sexuality in my ethics class, and today, the final day of the quarter, it arrived. Maybe it was simply the fact that the class takes place at 8 am, or perhaps it was because I really should have taken the extra time to make a latte this morning, but despite all my anticipation, I simply was not ready. The professor, widely recognized as one of the most radical and liberal at my school, did an admirable job of at least trying to present a fair perspective. She served communion before launching into the subject, and then gracefully pointed out how the point of communion is that we all do it together. Then she made a point of mentioning in several different ways how she has friends who are lesbian, and how she will eat and drink with them. That was it. That was the radical piece. She is willing to eat and drink with them.

Dramatic pause.

Perhaps I have been spoiled by the breathtaking beauty of the past few weeks, but as she announced her radical approach to dealing with homosexuality, I was hardly grateful.

As the class discussion continued, I felt even less so.

My fellow student’s questions all seemed to center around one particular point: sure, eating and drinking with them is all well and good, but… gasp… what do we do if they aren’t struggling? How, then, can we welcome them into our churches if they have made peace with this; with themselves and with their God?

I should have had that latte, because if I had, I might have raised my hand and said something like this, to the 80 or so theology students who wanted to know how they might wrestle with my sexuality if, God forbid, I am not:

I have made peace. I love my Lord, and I am certain that my Lord loves me… all the more certain because of the overwhelming grace that has been poured out into my life these past few weeks as I have finally begun to make important steps towards greater honesty and authenticity. I am dating someone who loves the Lord as well, and it is beautiful. It is not hidden or dark or sinful or ugly. It is fun and giggly… spontaneous laughter and spontaneous prayer.

And if you cannot reconcile yourself to the idea that finally, if only for a moment, I am not struggling with myself or with this relationship, or with my God, then appease yourself with this knowledge: it will be a long time, a very long time, before I have finished my struggle with this church and with this institution; because I am not backing out and I am not leaving. I am staying at your table. Keep looking, you’ll find me here.

And to answer your question, as to what you will do about those who are not struggling, I don’t know what you will do. That is up for you to decide. But what I am doing is praising God.