Jeff drove home quietly, thinking hard about what John had told him, and trying to think of what this could mean for him, and for all the gay and lesbian clergy of the diocese. His mind was in a whirl, too many thoughts -- and memories -- swirling around in there. He knew that he was a bit jealous, maybe a lot jealous, but that couldn't sway him now. His mind kept returning to his own seminary experience. He remembered that first day, looking around in class, trying to find a seat. All those strangers suddenly gathered. Maybe it was like any other first day, but somehow it had felt different. They were all there to "serve" God, all feeling called to the priesthood, all sharing that same bond -- and all strangers to each other. A seat had been open beside one other young man, so he had taken it. They'd introduced themselves and started chatting, waiting for the professor to come in. And by the end of the class, they'd become friends. Kismet, fate, serendipity, God's Will, whatever you wanted to call it, their meeting had begun a life-long friendship. Well, he smiled to himself; it was more than a friendship. And that very fact was bittersweet.
As their friendship had deepened during the first semester, they found themselves spending more and more time together, enjoying each other's company, laughing, having fun together. One of their classmates had jokingly referred to their going out on a date -- and Jeff had realized that it was one. He'd never thought about it before. He just knew that he really enjoyed being with his friend. But he knew, with an awful, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that their friend had been right -- it was a date, with all that implied. Now what?
He'd wrestled with that growing knowledge, not just about their relationship, but about himself, too. He'd grown distant, and finally his friend had cornered him one evening, coming into his room and closing the door. He'd wanted to know what was wrong, and Jeff had found himself uncharacteristingly tongue-tied. He, known in his class for his way with words, couldn't find any. His friend had leaned in and kissed him. "It's OK, Jeff, I know," he'd said, "I know. We love each other, and even more than that, we're in love with each other. It's OK."
The relationship had deepened and blossomed over the next two years, and then suddenly they were facing graduation and ordination. Reluctantly they had let each other go so that they could be ordained and move on into their vocations as priests. Back then there was no possibility for two men to live together and be in the ministry. It just wasn't even a thought. And now? Well, now they lived a thousand miles apart, they saw each other for vacations and some holidays, and they suffered. There was no Brokeback Mountain for priests! He laughed at himself, maybe he should write a screen play about Broken Altars? He laughed again, and an idea began forming itself in his mind.
Once home, he spent the next hour on the phone, arranging a meeting with his friends and colleagues. Maybe there was something they could do.
The house sparkled with cleanliness, a faint hint of pine in the air. The wood gleamed, the antiques glowed, and all the people moving around the rooms were having a good time. When everyone had a drink, and when all the canapés were gone, Jeff clinked his glass.
"Please come and sit down, friends." When they were all seated, he started again, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together..." and laughter erupted around the room as they all recognized the opening words of the marriage service. "Friends, we all know each other, and we all know that everyone in this room is gay or lesbian. That's why I invited you all here this evening. This, brothers and sisters, is the inaugural meeting of the Gay and Lesbian Clergy Caucus of the diocese. Let me tell you what's going on."
Jeff told them about John and Chuck. He told them about John's decision to come out to the bishop, and he reminded them about their own stories -- he knew them all. He invited them to look around and begin sharing some of their own lives with each other. There had been some surprise in the room, not everyone had been out to everyone else. Yet, they had all known that they were no alone. The evening deepened as they shared their stories, as they found support from the other people in the room, and a feeling began to grow that they needed to do `something.' Jeff put words to that feeling.
"We need to do something, don't we?" he asked. "We need not just to help John but to help ourselves. Maybe it's time that we all came out, together, to the bishop."
Stunned silence greeted those words. What could he be thinking? What had he been drinking? Come out to the bishop! All of them! No, it wasn't possible -- they chattered back and forth, interjecting, interrupting each other, and slowly a consensus grew in the room. Maybe, just maybe they could do that very thing -- come out to the bishop. One priest asked the question that was on everyone's mind, "What about our parishes?"
Jeff answered, "Maybe we're not ready to tell our parishes yet, though my guess is that several of them already know and just don't want to hear it. You know, the ecclesiastical version of `don't ask, don't tell.' Eventually we're going to have to cross that bridge, too. But for the moment all we're talking about is seeing the bishop together and laying it in front of him. Are we ready to do that?"
Not everyone was ready, there were several who demurred. But everyone was ready to go home and think about it. Jeff invited them all back next week. Together, maybe they could come to a consensus and figure out a plan of action for the next step. He chatted with everyone as they left, one by one, picking up their coats from the hall closet. Jeff wandered around afterwards, cleaning up the house and putting things away. He was thoughtful, wondering about what he had just done. Sure, they all knew each other, and yes, they were all gay or lesbian. But this was a big step, a very big step. Going to the bishop together meant that the bishop had to take notice of them. He had been supportive on a personal level for a long time, but was he ready to deal with all of them together? Only time would tell.
The week went by quickly; thoughts of the meeting were never far from his conscious mind. He wondered. Would everyone come through? Would they have to protect some of the brothers and sisters from exposure? How would the bishop deal with this? How would the diocese deal with it? Thoughts simply went around and around inside his head. It was hard to concentrate.
Finally the week was over. Everyone came back, plus a couple of people he had not originally invited. He was discovering that he hadn't known all the gays and lesbians in the diocese. He wasn't sure whether to be complimented that they had come, or annoyed that he hadn't been able to spot them. Oh well, it was a big diocese.
One of the older priests started, "Jeff, we've all been talking, and certainly I've been doing a lot of thinking about John, and about your idea. It's audacious, you know. Maybe it really is time to let the bishop know about all of us. I've got to tell you that I'm nervous about this, I've spent most of my life in the closet, but perhaps there's safety in numbers. So, count me in."
The others in the room nodded their heads, one by one. Consensus had happened. Every priest in the diocese, male and female, black and white, gay or lesbian, had decided that it was time to come out. Boy was the bishop in for a surprise!
"Then I guess I'd better get an appointment for us to meet with the bishop. Can I suggest that I invite him here? I'm not quite ready for all of us to come out to the whole diocese yet. If he comes here and we meet with him together, then there's still a little bit of cover for us. Is that OK with you all?"
Everyone nodded again, and a somber and serious meeting quickly became a celebration. Wine and cheese went around the room, people started chatting energetically with each other, laughter erupted in little corners as people shared jokes. If you didn't know, it looked like any other cocktail party anywhere else in the city -- a group of well-dressed men and women standing around with glasses and chatting with each other. Who would guess that they were all clergy, and all gay or lesbian?