My Chosen Lifestyle

Well, I was a little preoccupied yesterday, so I'm a day late and a dollar short to all the internet buzz about the Archbishop of Canterbury's statement about General Convention, the Communion and The Covenant.

The man has a real gift for talking in circles, doesn't he?

That poor dear! He really, really, really wants to be Pope, doesn't he?

Would that be considered, "Miter envy?"

Or, do you think it's more about the whole infallibility thing?

Personally, I think he's been drinking his own Lambeth Kool-Aid.

Many people have made various brilliant comments which you can read over at Episcopal Cafe.

My favorite quote is, of course, from the Queen of Soundbite, the one, the only, Susan Russell:

"We don't "choose" sexuality but we do "choose" hypocrisy. And at the end of the day, I'm happier facing my Maker claiming the former rather than being accused of the latter."

That's exactly where I got snagged. "Chosen lifestyle."

Here's the full quote, from "Section 8"

And if this is the case, a person living in such a union is in the same case as a heterosexual person living in a sexual relationship outside the marriage bond; whatever the human respect and pastoral sensitivity such persons must be given, their chosen lifestyle is not one that the Church's teaching sanctions, and thus it is hard to see how they can act in the necessarily representative role that the ordained ministry, especially the episcopate, requires.

I know. I know. The man puts a capitol "O" in the word "obtuse."

But, did you catch that? "Chosen lifestyle?"

Are you kidding me? What rock has this man been hiding under?

Let me tell you a little something about my "chosen lifestyle."

One of the pieces of yesterday's anxiety had nothing to do with anything medical.

Thirteen years ago, Ms. Conroy had surgery on the same knee. We were in another hospital, but we might have been in another galaxy far, far away. One that had never heard of patient rights, much less equal rights.

Every other couple in the family waiting area got frequent updates on their family member. I didn't. I went up to the nurse several times to ask. She just said the same thing, "When I have some information, I'll give it to you."

The last time, I pressed her, smiling and being as ingratiating as I know how to be, "Umm . . . Excuse me. I hate to bother you. But, I'm beginning to get a bit worried. Is something wrong? Has something gone wrong? Can you tell me why is it that you have information for all the other family members but not me? I'm really starting to think something bad has happened."

She looked up at me, her demeanor very professional but her voice dripping with contempt and said, "When I have some information, I'll give it to you."

I cleared my throat and said, "May I speak to your supervisor, please?"

She smirked and said, smiling pleasantly, "She's a very busy person. She may not be able to talk to you for hours."

"Fine," I smiled. "I'll go out and find her myself," and turned to walk out of the waiting area.

"Okay, but by the time you get back, there just may be some information for you."

Of course, that's exactly what happened. I found her supervisor and reported what had happened. Her supervisor was not pleased with her, but chose not to do anything about it.

Now, that situation will never make it into the great books of case law on discrimination. It's not even worth whining about. It's the sort of 'low level' discrimination that is designed to stay 'below the radar' but still hit its target in terms of your psyche, with collateral damage to your heart and soul.

So, one of the things I packed with me this time, like the last time Ms. Conroy had surgery five years ago, was our domestic partnership papers. I didn't need them the last time, but well, you never know.

The last thing I needed was to be hassled by a nurse or receptionist with attitude. And, God forbid anything should go wrong and . . .

Thankfully, I didn't need it. Nothing went wrong, Thanks be to God. The staff was professional, competent, warm, caring and supportive - to everyone.

No discrimination - but, no special treatment. Just professional, competent care.

You know. What everyone expects.

I don't know how many married people have to remember to pack their marriage certificates when their loved ones go to the hospital, but I would bet solid money that Rowan Williams doesn't give it a thought when his wife, Jane, is ill.

Chosen lifestyle? Why would anyone CHOOSE to be hassled at critical moments in their life? Why would anyone CHOOSE to have your basic civil rights denied? Why would anyone CHOOSE to be discriminated against in the church - by otherwise intelligent, highly educated, seemingly spiritual people?

How do you CHOOSE the person with whom you fall in love? With whom you wish to start a family? With whom you want to spend the rest of your life?

And, why should that choice condemn you to a life of discrimination?

Did Rowan Williams listen to ANY of the LGBT deputies he met when he was at General Convention just a few weeks ago? Did he not see eight Children of God who love Jesus and serve the people of God through the Church?

Was it really that "hard to see how they can act in the necessarily representative role that the ordained ministry, especially the episcopate, requires"?

Really?

Here's the thing: I don't have a lifestyle. I have a life.

And, the only choice I have made in the way in which I 'fashion' or 'style' my life is to live honestly, with authenticity and integrity - no matter what it costs, or what assault to my dignity I must endure.

+++Himself can object all he wants to my so-called "chosen lifestyle".

Personally, I have a strong objection to his "chosen leadership style."

Which, near as I can tell, can best be summed up in a very few words, one of which includes a word already used by Our Fabulous Ms. Russell: "Hypocrisy."