Reflections on September 11
Jesus taught love, not hate, and he requires his faithful followers to love others. I try to be one of his faithful followers, but sometimes it is very difficult.
by Rev. Ralph Lasher

On Tuesday, September 11, I was just finishing my morning coffee and watching the news when "Breaking News" suddenly appeared on the TV screen. I stared in disbelief as I saw the horror of the jet colliding into the first tower at the World Trade Center in New York City. In a few minutes, I watched as the same thing happened to the second tower and then later to the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. I spent most of the rest of that day listening to the news and praying. I have continued to listen to the news and pray every day since then, but more and more I have found myself wondering, as a gay man and a Christian, why it happened and how to react.

I remember the invasion of Poland; the Holocaust; the bombing of cities in Europe; Pearl Harbor Day; Iwo Jima; Inchon; Beirut; the bombings of Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Tokyo; the bombing of the Federal Building in Oklahoma City; and so many, many other horrible events. However, few have hit quite as close to me as what happened on September 11, 2001.

I lived in New York City for three years while going to seminary there. It was in New York City that I met another gay man, Harry Gibson, and it was there that we began our 45-year relationship of love and oneness. Because I'm a student of American history, Washington, D.C., has been one of my favorite places to spend a vacation, including one of the happiest vacations I ever spent with my parents. It was in Washington on April 29, 2000 (our 45th anniversary), that Harry and I stood in front of the Lincoln Memorial and were introduced as a long-term gay couple to thousands of people during the Millennium March on Washington. That was almost the last time Harry was able to be out in public before he died three months later.

It isn't just because of these personal associations that I'm numbed by the events of September 11; it's because of what I as a gay man and a Christian perceive is their cause. I've heard them described as acts of "terrorism" and been told that we are now at war against "terror." To me these acts were much more than "terror"-they were acts of hate. Unfortunately, it seems more politically correct to speak about "crimes of terror" than to speak about "crimes of hate." Just consider how difficult it's been to get "hate crime laws" enacted.

The lives of countless men and women have been ended by crimes of hate, including at least five gay men to whom I feel connected: Houstonians Paul Broussard, Fred Mangione (a one-time housemate of fellow Resurrection MCC pastor Rev. Carolyn Mobley), Fred Paez, and Jose Campos Torres-as well as Matthew Shepherd (whose murder probably occurred on ranchland in my native state of Wyoming once owned by members of my family).

I believe that was also what ended the lives of thousands of persons in New York and Washington. The magnitude of the crimes of hate on September 11 was greater, but all of these killings and many others have been crimes of hate. To me both as a gay man and a Christian, they aren't terror, they're hate. I believe that our nation has no alternative but to respond strongly to the September 11 crimes. But at the same time that we are seeking justice, I believe as a Christian that as individuals and as a nation we should not ourselves strike out in blind hate. Regrettably, that's being done in the U.S. by attacks on adults and children of Middle Eastern origin, as well as on businesses and houses of worship. Especially shocking and offensive to me were the statements of two Christian ministers, Rev. Jerry Falwell and Rev. Pat Robertson. A day or two after the attacks in New York and Washington, Falwell said that what happened had been brought about by the actions of non-Christians, the federal courts, gays and lesbians, and pro-abortion advocates whose behavior had caused God to remove a protective veil from the United States of America. Robertson said that he agreed. That is hate! Since then, both of these men have been trying without much success to explain away their words of hate. What about Mr. Wilson here in Houston who obtained the signatures of at least 20,000 voters to force a vote designed to deny the same rights to gay and lesbian citizens that are given to heterosexual citizens? That, too, is hate!

How should I as a gay man and a Christian respond to hate? How do I as a gay man and a Christian believe that our nation should respond to the events of September 11? Because those of us who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered are frequent victims of hate, I feel that we should be especially sensitive to these questions.

I don't believe that hate will ever be overcome by hate. I know that Jesus never preached hate; he preached love, and he requires that his followers love others as he loves us. Does this mean that I believe that we ought to stop military action against bin Laden and his al-Qaeda? As a follower of Jesus Christ, do I think that we ought to be trying to overcome our adversary, hate, with love?

Discussing this issue the other day with a woman friend, I said: "I'm afraid that it's too late for love." She responded: "I hope it's never too late for love." Wow! That got me thinking, and I'm still thinking. I recall that in South Africa, Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu responded with Christian love to the people who had brutally oppressed their people for so many years. They required only that they acknowledge their offenses and express regret for them. In return, forgiveness was given. That certainly was love and appears to have worked. I also recall that Pope John Paul II visited the man in prison who had tried to kill him and forgave him. That was also love.

Would this approach work with bin Laden and his followers? I don't have an answer to that question, except that I don't have a clue. I honestly don't know. There certainly doesn't seem to be any overwhelming sentiment in America to try to "win" by love, while judging from the polls there seems to be a huge majority supporting what is being done. Not many persons have signed on to the suggestions of an activist in our Houston GLBT community that we consider forgiving the killers of Paul Broussard.

It isn't easy to be gay, and it isn't easy to be a Christian. Being both gay and a Christian is often doubly difficult. This is certainly one of those times. Ralph Lasher is assistant pastor at Resurrection Metropolitan Community Church.