God and Girl–Chapter 14

God and Girl is my first novel, written in 2015. I'll post it, a chapter a day, over the next few weeks.

Dad’s “Take a Stand” march is today.  He has been working on it for weeks and has over 40 churches signed up to participate.  Early on, I promised Dad I would walk with him, be by his side.

Dad had intended the march to take two days, starting in Boaz and walking north on Highway 431 all the way through Guntersville and across the Big River Bridge.  But local law enforcement, with guidance from the local circuit court judge, just wouldn’t allow it.  They said it was not a reasonable exercise of our First Amendment right, that it was a substantial interference with others’ rights to move about freely, or something along those lines.  Dad finally acquiesced and agreed to a march across the Big River Bridge from the south end of Guntersville.  

Over 600 people participated in the march, most everybody carried a “Take a Stand” sign. I walked besides Dad and we talked about the importance of being grounded in our beliefs and being willing to stand up and speak out to show the world who we really are.

The road to the bridge was not flat.  It was an uphill climb the whole way.  Even the long bridge was more of a semi-flattened oval.  It was not until we reached the center of the bridge that we saw a sea of rainbow clothed people standing at the bottom of the bridge, where the bridge ended, and the highway continued towards Huntsville.  There seemed to be about twice as many of them as there were of us.  And, they also were carrying signs: “Stand for Love.”  I was happy they were not carrying and holding sticks and stones, but I was still scared.

Dad and I were leading our group.  We stopped in our tracks the moment we saw our opposition and felt a confrontation would be the natural thing to happen if we walked right up into their faces.

After what seemed like hours—it was just a few minutes—two women from their group started walking towards us.  Dad turned to his followers and said, “stay here for now.”  He turned again and started walking towards the two women.  I hesitated a few seconds but jogged quickly to catch up.  “I don’t have a clue what is about to happen but I’m glad you’re with me.” Dad said.

Soon we were standing right in front of them, out in the middle of the bridge, the sky bright blue, not a cloud anywhere in sight. “Hello, I’m Ann and this is Gina.  I assume you are Joseph Brown.”

“I am, and this is my daughter Ruthie.  Nice to meet you.  I think.” Dad said.

“Please know we come in peace.  We have no intentions of harming anyone, or of causing any type of ruckus.  But, we would like to have a polite and respectful discussion.”  Ann said.

“Okay.  I don’t see the harm in that.  Maybe it would be fruitful for all. How do you want to do this?”  Dad said.

“I suggest we all move in closer together.  And all sit down.  We can leave thirty feet or so of space between our two groups.  Enough space for a group representative to stand and walk around a little if she or he wishes.  I will speak for our group and I assume you will speak for yours. 

Okay?”  Ann said.

“Sounds like a workable plan.  I’ll go tell our group what is happening and we’ll all come back and sit down.  Dad and I walked back up the bridge to our group.  He shared what was going on and asked everyone to pile their signs over by the side of the bridge and to come sit down.  He encouraged them to let him do the talking.

After everyone had gathered around as agreed, Dad said it seemed right for Ann to go first. “Ladies first,” he said.

Ann got on her feet as Dad and I sat down.

“Thank you for the opportunity to meet with you here on this beautiful autumn day.  I believe it is a positive testimony to the beauty of humankind for what we have just accomplished here.  We all came in peace and sat down in peace and agree to listen to others who have different feelings and beliefs.

Some of us are Christians, some of us are simply spiritualists, some of us are atheists, some of us are agnostics, and some of us are unsure what we are when it comes to God and religion.  But, for sure, we are all humans. We want what all Americans want—to be safe, to have a roof over our heads, food on our tables, to have a family, to have love, to be in love, to live with purpose, and to contribute to the betterment of society.  We believe in treating our fellow man like we want to be treated.

I suspect you, Mr. Brown, and your entire group want pretty much the same things.  Of course, we have differences, or we would not be here today out on this bridge.  Some of us in my group believe that we were born as homosexuals, with a sexual orientation attracting us to a person of the same gender.  Of course, you and your group do not believe this.  Which is fine.

The only goal I have in my talk, the only goal we have in our group coming out here today, is to politely, respectfully, ask you and your group to consider us as equals, to give us the opportunity to live and work together to make our America a better place for all.  To join hands and fight poverty and hunger and homelessness, real life-threatening issues.  

We respect your beliefs and will fight to give you the right to hold onto your beliefs.  However, we must be clear. We believe in the rule of law, that the U.S. Supreme Court has spoken.  We believe we now have just as much legal right as you do to marry who we want.  We don’t want war.  We want peace.  Further, we know we must be willing to do much more than many other groups have had to do to earn your trust.  We intend to do that.  We simply ask you to treat us with real respect.  That, will get you much more than your condemnation.”  Ann said.

It was Dad’s turn.  Ann sat down, and Dad stood up.

“Thank you Ann for being so clear.  I appreciate what you have just said.  We do respect homosexuals as humans.  We wish no ill will on any of you.  We recognize that we all, your group and mine, are humans.  But, we can look back on history and see that not all human conduct is beneficial to society.  Please know that I mean no disrespect when I say that slavery was not a good thing—it produced untold suffering for America and the world.  The same can be said for Hitler and Nazism.  Again, please don’t think I am saying that homosexuality is just like slavery or Nazism.  However, I must be direct.  Our nation was founded on Christian principles, and the Bible is our clearest and best source for those principles.  The Bible is clear that homosexuality is a sin.  This same Bible says that all sin disrespects God and has consequences—the ‘wages of sin is death,’ it says in Romans 6:23.  If this is true, then it doesn’t matter in the end whether our U.S. Supreme Court has blessed homosexual marriage or not.  Even more to the point, if homosexuality is a sin as it says in the Bible, in the end it really won’t matter what we do from a church’s standpoint—the natural consequences will follow. And, they will not be good.

I am not saying that there is no legal right in this country for gays to marry.  Clearly, the Court has ruled on this and it is the law of the land.  I am not like some who say that the Court cannot make law, that it is just the opinion of five justices-lawyers, one politician calls them.

We always want peace.  We want and need friends.  But, when the Court approves of sin as a constitutional right, then what starts off as public policy enters our churches and one law leads to another.  Our stand here today is not a stand against you. It is a stand for our beliefs, a stand for Christian marriage, a stand for the institution that God created, that of marriage between one man and one woman.  Like you, we have a right to stand up and speak out.  We cannot, we will not, be swayed from our Biblical beliefs.  We will stand up for religious freedom.

I know it may seem hollow, but I do love you Ann and every one of you.  I do believe all of us have a responsibility to take care of the poor, the hungry, and the homeless.  I am happy you agree.  I am joyed by that fact.

Thank you all for coming today.  I hope you have felt welcome.  You are welcome to come to any of the 40 churches or so that are represented here today by our group.  Each one of us will do our best to make you feel welcome.” Dad said.

Ann and Dad shook hands again.  Nothing scary or violent took place, although I heard a few of Ann’s group say they heard nothing new, that homosexuals were as bad as slavery and Nazism, and needed to be exterminated.  Our group walked slowly and quietly back to our cars parked on the south end of the bridge.  

Very little was said on the way home. For some reason, all I could think of was writing a poem about the Bible and homosexuality.  I felt I could make some connections that would give me, and maybe even Dad, reason to think outside the narrow lines, lines that he and the other pastors who marched today would likely die to protect.