I was about seven or eight, if memory serves, and my GranGran and I were walking across a parking lot through an early December snow when we heard the familiar ringing of the bell and saw the uniformed young lady standing beside the little red kettle. "Never pass by the Salvation Army," my grandfather said. "They do a lot of good for folks who are down and out, really poor. Always give them what you can, even if it's only a little." So he'd reach into his pocket and pull out a couple of wrinkled dollar bills, give me one, and we'd each put one into the pot. GranGran would tip his hat to the lady; she'd nod a thanks, and we'd be on our way.
Years later I'd relate that same story to my two daughters as we were walking across some snowy New England parking lot, reach into my pocket, pass out the dollars, or quarters, as I was able, and we'd give what we could. "They help the poor," I'd explain. "People who don't have enough to eat tonight, and maybe even their kids; people without a roof over their heads won't have to sleep out in the cold tonight because you cared enough to help out."
This is the background I bring to the annual controversy that pits the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) community against the Salvation Army. A controversy that runs down a two-way street. You see, the Salvation Army is a very conservative Christian organization that firmly believes the LGBT lifestyle is contrary to the SA's interpretation of certain Scriptures. Naturally, the LGBT community holds the opposite view, and calls upon me to withhold my cash in protest.
I happen to have long advocated, in the various denominations I've served as minister, the full rights of inclusion for the LGBT community. And we've made a great deal of progress as witnessed by the Episcopal Church, of which I'm now proudly a full member, having been confirmed by the Bishop just a couple of weeks ago. A few years back the Episcopal Church elected Gene Robinson Bishop of New Hampshire. Bishop Robinson is openly gay. Quite a step forward. Progress is often slow. But progress is made.
Yet not every Episcopalian would agree with me. Every year at our annual gathering there is that vocal minority who will get up and rant and rave against ordaining anyone who isn't straight. No doubt it will be so again this year. Equally certain is that their anti-gay agenda will get voted down. Seems the controversy, like the poor, is destined to be always with us.
I think the Salvation Army's stance on LGBT is wrong. But I'm not going to withdraw my money any more than I would withdraw my money from my Episcopal Church. I've seen first hand the good the SA has done and continues to do each year. I don't agree with them on this issue, but if I pulled my pittance out of every organization I can find something to disagree about I'd end up never giving a dime to any charity. So I have to make choices. Or kids sleep in the car and pregnant mothers don't eat.
Change comes from courage within and pressure from without from those who disagree. So I will make my protest known, and encourage a more enlightened approach. Then, some day, probably before long, some long time member of the Salvation Army in good standing will come out of the closet and set off a bonfire of rethinking all the attendant issues. Never fails. So I choose the way of the loyal opposition. That feels like it has more integrity, for me anyway, than the I'll take my dollar and go home approach.
I want that hungry guy on the street corner to have a soup kitchen to go to tonight. And the mom and two kids some chickenshit bank foreclosed on and put out in the cold; I'd like them to have a shelter, and for the kids to get a couple presents this Christmas. I'm funny that way.
The Jawbone
