Mother Coming Out
The following is from a worship service sermon given by David's mother at Hemenway United Methodist Church in Evanston. Her sermon was part of a yearlong education working toward Reconciling Congregation Program – now known as Reconciling Ministries Network. This grass roots movement of United Methodist individuals and congregations working for full participation of all people including naming lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered people. She also has given this sermon at other northern Illinois churches.
My name is Carolyn Gunnell, mother of three boys. The Chicagoland area has always been my home; From Wooddale’s Irving Park district to Chicago’s German Armitage and Clark area. My grandfather was a Circuit Rider in the Methodist Episcopal Church. From the church’s beginning in the United States, there were more churches than ministers, mostly out in rural areas. A Circuit Rider, the minister, would be responsible to two or more churches. My grandfather didn’t get around by horse like most ministers of old. He rode the freight trains. During the summers, I would stay with my grandparents in Chicago’s German neighborhood. My aunts and uncles were involved with many churches throughout the Chicagoland area. My family had deep roots and known by many. Some were founders of banking institutions.
I have battled with many deaths in my family. My mother died during childbirth when I was a small child. My newborn brother died a day after my mother. My father remarried. When I was 16, my sister died at the age of six. When I was 26, there was the death of my father. And through it all there was my church. The church played a big part in my family.
I have battled with many deaths in my family. My mother died during childbirth when I was a small child. My newborn brother died a day after my mother. My father remarried. When I was 16, my sister died at the age of six. When I was 26, there was the death of my father. And through it all there was my church. The church played a big part in my family.
In Evanston, I attended Kendall College, originally founded by Methodist. There, I met a sailor who later became my husband. Needless to say, my family’s lineage with the Methodist Church goes a long way.
I tried to raise my sons to respect God, and follow the golden rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” It was not always easy. There have been many problems in my life, but with the help of God, and my church family, they have seen me through.
I once was afraid that some of my family, blood and church, would hold judgment or ostracize me when I announced: I am a mother of a homosexual son.
As with all my sons, I am very close with them. My childhood was filled with a large network of a supportive family. I believe this closeness to be carried on within my immediate family. Some time ago, my relationship had become strained with one of my sons. One day he came to me and said, “You and I have become distant.” He continued, “It’s not your fault, because I have something to tell you, and just don’t know how to say it.” He hesitated many times until he said, “I’m gay.”
It was like a bolt of lightning had hit me. I was taken back. “I won’t have another David,” was my reply to his announcement.
He told me that there are no guarantees in life. If he does father a child, that child would have its own unique personality and may be nothing like him. Of course, now in retrospect, I know that it was my upbringing, my education by the church and society that caused my reaction. I told him that his gayness made no difference to me, and that I would always love him.
I remember crying myself to sleep after he left. I felt relieved that the partition that was between us was only this. Before his announcement, my mind was racing about worse things. But I also did cry because I was afraid of the problems ahead for him and myself.
“What do I do?”
“Who do I go and talk to?”
I remember thinking that it must be a phase that he’s going through. But the more I thought about it, all the negative and oppressive effects that go along with this, I came to the conclusion that it was not a phase. My son is smart. Why would he put himself through all the misery that society adds?
I tried to raise my sons to respect God, and follow the golden rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” It was not always easy. There have been many problems in my life, but with the help of God, and my church family, they have seen me through.
I once was afraid that some of my family, blood and church, would hold judgment or ostracize me when I announced: I am a mother of a homosexual son.
As with all my sons, I am very close with them. My childhood was filled with a large network of a supportive family. I believe this closeness to be carried on within my immediate family. Some time ago, my relationship had become strained with one of my sons. One day he came to me and said, “You and I have become distant.” He continued, “It’s not your fault, because I have something to tell you, and just don’t know how to say it.” He hesitated many times until he said, “I’m gay.”
It was like a bolt of lightning had hit me. I was taken back. “I won’t have another David,” was my reply to his announcement.
He told me that there are no guarantees in life. If he does father a child, that child would have its own unique personality and may be nothing like him. Of course, now in retrospect, I know that it was my upbringing, my education by the church and society that caused my reaction. I told him that his gayness made no difference to me, and that I would always love him.
I remember crying myself to sleep after he left. I felt relieved that the partition that was between us was only this. Before his announcement, my mind was racing about worse things. But I also did cry because I was afraid of the problems ahead for him and myself.
“What do I do?”
“Who do I go and talk to?”
I remember thinking that it must be a phase that he’s going through. But the more I thought about it, all the negative and oppressive effects that go along with this, I came to the conclusion that it was not a phase. My son is smart. Why would he put himself through all the misery that society adds?
I avoid discussing with anyone about his sexual orientation. I just ignored it. Even with David it seemed that we were trying not to notice the elephant in the room. We would talk around the subject for awhile until I again faced the separation from my son. This time it was me that put up the partition. I had to act or face losing my child, and I did not want that!
It was my generation that has been blinded. We only see what we understand, or what we want to see. We do not catch sight of all of God’s world around us.
I began to read on the subject of homosexuality to better understand my gay son. There have been great people in history who were homosexuals, like Alexander the Great, Leonardo da Vinci, and Tchaikovsky to name a few. These people, who happen to be gay, made history that we all know. I also learned that one person in every four families is a homosexual. This surprised me. We try to hide from things that we don’t understand or agree with. From my studies, I began to learn more about how my husband and I were as parents. The gay child goes through many depressing times dealing with who he is. This is the time that he needs a parent the most. Because we were oblivious to this subject, we were not there for him. I felt so ashamed and bad. I love my son, but I was not there for him during those moments. I thought about this a lot: What could I have done different during his childhood to make him normal? The fact is David is NORMAL, and my answer then is NOTHING. I raised all three children the same. Two of them are not homosexuals. There is nothing that I could have done differently. I firmly believe that homosexuality is due to genetics, not by their environment.
I feel that I became closer to my son for his sharing a hidden part of himself to me. During my silent’s moments, I image his life before he shared his true life. Where would our relationship be if there was no intermission? How many years went by of him hiding from his world, his job, his church, his family, from me? How many years went by of him hurting? Having no one to talk to about his inner feelings? Where was I, as a parent, to comfort his pain?
It was my generation that has been blinded. We only see what we understand, or what we want to see. We do not catch sight of all of God’s world around us.
I began to read on the subject of homosexuality to better understand my gay son. There have been great people in history who were homosexuals, like Alexander the Great, Leonardo da Vinci, and Tchaikovsky to name a few. These people, who happen to be gay, made history that we all know. I also learned that one person in every four families is a homosexual. This surprised me. We try to hide from things that we don’t understand or agree with. From my studies, I began to learn more about how my husband and I were as parents. The gay child goes through many depressing times dealing with who he is. This is the time that he needs a parent the most. Because we were oblivious to this subject, we were not there for him. I felt so ashamed and bad. I love my son, but I was not there for him during those moments. I thought about this a lot: What could I have done different during his childhood to make him normal? The fact is David is NORMAL, and my answer then is NOTHING. I raised all three children the same. Two of them are not homosexuals. There is nothing that I could have done differently. I firmly believe that homosexuality is due to genetics, not by their environment.
I feel that I became closer to my son for his sharing a hidden part of himself to me. During my silent’s moments, I image his life before he shared his true life. Where would our relationship be if there was no intermission? How many years went by of him hiding from his world, his job, his church, his family, from me? How many years went by of him hurting? Having no one to talk to about his inner feelings? Where was I, as a parent, to comfort his pain?
That is what a mother is for: to love, guide, and protect their children. It is the maternal instinct. From it all, I felt bad that I was not there during his years of isolation. I have directed my pain towards society, not towards myself. I was never told about homosexuality, and I did not talk about it to my children because of my lack of knowledge on the subject. Society hides the issues that they do not want to face. Even makes fun of them. My son shared with me that there was a whole year of some form of gay-bashing that happened to him. He never was physically hurt during that time. It was the negative gay jokes that co-workers would tell at his job, or having a bottle thrown at him by a passing car’s occupants shouting, “Get out of here, homo!”, or someone yelling, “Fagot!” at him. The term “nigger” has the same negative connotations as “fagot.”
I do not understand people who reject fellow children of God. Nevertheless I do understand my son concealing his truth. When he came out of the closet, a term referring to the gay person opening up and sharing that they are gay, he was ready for the worst. Before coming out, his fear brought him to see a councilor for seven months, where they viewed the pros or cons to his coming out. Next, they formed a plan. He had formed a network of supportive friends, a founded family. This new founded family was there to be his safety net, guide, an arm to lean on, and a shoulder to cry on. At that time, his coming out to me was better than most. Later, I discovered how lucky he was to have this found family. They were better than most families.
Through it all, there was still another coming out that was needed. It was me, coming out as a mother of a gay child.
I do not understand people who reject fellow children of God. Nevertheless I do understand my son concealing his truth. When he came out of the closet, a term referring to the gay person opening up and sharing that they are gay, he was ready for the worst. Before coming out, his fear brought him to see a councilor for seven months, where they viewed the pros or cons to his coming out. Next, they formed a plan. He had formed a network of supportive friends, a founded family. This new founded family was there to be his safety net, guide, an arm to lean on, and a shoulder to cry on. At that time, his coming out to me was better than most. Later, I discovered how lucky he was to have this found family. They were better than most families.
Through it all, there was still another coming out that was needed. It was me, coming out as a mother of a gay child.
Like my son, I no longer shared about my family life to my closest friends for dreading that someone would ask about my sons. These anxieties build and build in me that I had to talk to someone outside of my husband about it, for he was having the same trepidation as I. In retrospect, it seems funny that I asked permission from my gay son if it was alright for me to tell my best friend about his homosexuality. I remember him chuckling when he said it was okay. He knew what I was going through because he had gone through it himself.
After I told my best friend, who also is employed at the same company as I am, she hugged me and told me that it was okay, “Our children don’t always turn out the way we like, but we love them anyways.” Her words were of great comfort to me. A heavy weight disappeared from within me. I finally had someone I could talk to about all three of my sons.
After I told my best friend, who also is employed at the same company as I am, she hugged me and told me that it was okay, “Our children don’t always turn out the way we like, but we love them anyways.” Her words were of great comfort to me. A heavy weight disappeared from within me. I finally had someone I could talk to about all three of my sons.
A month later, I told a very close colleague who also gave me a confirmatory reaction. But, except for those two friends, it was still hush-hush at work. Many times during my coffee and lunch breaks, mostly the men, would tell gay jokes. At first, I just put up with their jokes. Sometimes, as the crowd laughed at these gay jokes, my best friend and close colleague would lock eyes with me as if telling me that they still backed me. Afterwards, we would comment how hateful their words were to us.
One day during a coffee break, I was sitting around the table with my best friend and close collaborator, and a few male coworkers. Again, another joke using the word fag. The man telling the joke asked me, “What’s wrong Carolyn? You’re not laughing. Don’t you get the joke?”
Maybe it was my two friends standing by me. Maybe it was enough is enough. Maybe it was my protective maternal instincts. Maybe it was all these aspects. Something awoke in me. An intensity of passion to my children. Words fell out of my mouth without any forethought. I bleared out, “My son is gay, and I find your jokes about homosexuals hurtful and revolting.”
And with that, I walked out of the break room. My two friends walked out after saying their piece to the joke-teller. And there I did it. I came out of my own closet as a mother of a homosexual son.
And as in most places that have groupings of people, gossip swells. There may have been some whispers when I walked by, but I was no longer hiding in fear. The man, who told the joke, apologetics. Some others who told past break room jokes came fore and regretted their past words. In fact, one quiet young man approached me and gave me words of encouragement. He said to me, “I was trying to find the courage to say something. I’m glad you spoke up because I found their jokes hateful.” I left it at that and thanked him for his comments. Later, I wonder if this young man had a gay family member or friend in his life. Or was he in the closet?
Another staying in the closet thing I did: The night David told me he was gay, I asked him not to say anything about this to his grandmother. I thought that she would not be able to deal with this matter. All it did was put David and me in the closet. It stopped David’s relationship with his grandmother and mine with my mother. Since my sister lived closer to my mother and had more contact, I was also isolated from her as well. I recall my mother and I were on an Alaska cruise. During one of our layovers, we watched Phil Donahue’s talk show on television. The show’s subject was on homosexuality. My mother’s comment about the show, that she did not understand homosexuality. It would have been a great opportunity to tell her about David. Instead, her words locked me inside my closet.
When are we going to grow up? I pray that my church is more mature than society. Remember Christ said,”Love your neighbor as yourself.” That means that you should try to understand the gay person. That God does not make junk. All God’s children have a purpose and talents to share with all of us.
I’m going to share a modern version of the Bible’s Good Samaritan story by Beth Matheson.
Maybe it was my two friends standing by me. Maybe it was enough is enough. Maybe it was my protective maternal instincts. Maybe it was all these aspects. Something awoke in me. An intensity of passion to my children. Words fell out of my mouth without any forethought. I bleared out, “My son is gay, and I find your jokes about homosexuals hurtful and revolting.”
And with that, I walked out of the break room. My two friends walked out after saying their piece to the joke-teller. And there I did it. I came out of my own closet as a mother of a homosexual son.
And as in most places that have groupings of people, gossip swells. There may have been some whispers when I walked by, but I was no longer hiding in fear. The man, who told the joke, apologetics. Some others who told past break room jokes came fore and regretted their past words. In fact, one quiet young man approached me and gave me words of encouragement. He said to me, “I was trying to find the courage to say something. I’m glad you spoke up because I found their jokes hateful.” I left it at that and thanked him for his comments. Later, I wonder if this young man had a gay family member or friend in his life. Or was he in the closet?
Another staying in the closet thing I did: The night David told me he was gay, I asked him not to say anything about this to his grandmother. I thought that she would not be able to deal with this matter. All it did was put David and me in the closet. It stopped David’s relationship with his grandmother and mine with my mother. Since my sister lived closer to my mother and had more contact, I was also isolated from her as well. I recall my mother and I were on an Alaska cruise. During one of our layovers, we watched Phil Donahue’s talk show on television. The show’s subject was on homosexuality. My mother’s comment about the show, that she did not understand homosexuality. It would have been a great opportunity to tell her about David. Instead, her words locked me inside my closet.
When are we going to grow up? I pray that my church is more mature than society. Remember Christ said,”Love your neighbor as yourself.” That means that you should try to understand the gay person. That God does not make junk. All God’s children have a purpose and talents to share with all of us.
I’m going to share a modern version of the Bible’s Good Samaritan story by Beth Matheson.
There is a table which creeps with silence through the Church, the people, the church, the community. It whispers like a hot wind on ears which do not hear.
A woman has been beaten. This the ears hear. The rest rushes by with the wind. She was beaten in her home, by her husband. They were well off; we see a happy marriage, three children.
The wind said she ran to the priest who said: “Go back.” She must return to her home, her responsibility was to her husband and her children. She returned. He beats her.
What more we will not hear. The wind blows silence to our ears.
She ran to her mother. “Return to your husband. You married him. You’re stuck with him.” She returned. He beat her. And forced her.
What more we will not hear. The wind carried it away.
She ran into the street and cried.
A lesbian [a homosexual woman] found her. “Get away from him,” she said. “You don’t deserve this. I know a safe house. Come, I’ll show you.” And the lesbian took her, helped her and remained a steady friend.
Of these three, who was the woman’s neighbor?
A woman has been beaten. This the ears hear. The rest rushes by with the wind. She was beaten in her home, by her husband. They were well off; we see a happy marriage, three children.
The wind said she ran to the priest who said: “Go back.” She must return to her home, her responsibility was to her husband and her children. She returned. He beats her.
What more we will not hear. The wind blows silence to our ears.
She ran to her mother. “Return to your husband. You married him. You’re stuck with him.” She returned. He beat her. And forced her.
What more we will not hear. The wind carried it away.
She ran into the street and cried.
A lesbian [a homosexual woman] found her. “Get away from him,” she said. “You don’t deserve this. I know a safe house. Come, I’ll show you.” And the lesbian took her, helped her and remained a steady friend.
Of these three, who was the woman’s neighbor?
I like this version because it reminds me what the Bible is truly saying. Today, many will name themselves as a Samaritan. We change or lose the meaning behind words, such as the word Samaritan. Being a Samaritan was being an outcast. What society labels as weird, as alien to them, just like gays and lesbians are today in many places. And this story brings back the true meaning of what a Samaritan is. I feel that those who do know about my son’s sexual orientation and support him as a full human being are today’s true Samaritans.
My family does not view homosexuality as a sin. To me, the definition of sin is the alienation from God; being separated from God and others. Some people view sin as breaking of rules. I believe David’s only sin in this matter was his isolation of keeping himself hidden from his family. His distant stop our relationship from growing with me – his mother. It must have stopped other ties that hurt him. And my sin, my separation from God, was also hiding my son from other people. People often ask about my children, “Is David married or dating anyone?” And I usually said, “No, not now,” and avoid any other comments. I knew that they were referring to my son as a heterosexual. I felt angry with myself that I did not speak the truth; God made my three sons, one who happens to be gay. And my three sons are not alienated from God. All three are very active and supportive in their church.
I have attended many Affirmation meetings. This group is a lobbyist in the church. Their full name is Affirmation: United Methodist for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Concerns. This group of United Methodist women and men, gay and straight, work for total inclusiveness in my church. The gay men and lesbian women of this group treat me with esteem and kindness. In many ways, I feel like a mother to them. And their stories are so alien to me. They tell me how they are afraid of telling their families about who they are out of fear that they will be rejected.
One man from Atlanta told me his coming out story. After telling his parents that he was gay, his father said in a calm voice, “You have 15 minutes to get your stuff and get out of my house. And if I ever see you again, I will kill you.” I thought that his father was just angry at the moment, but this man told me that his father meant every word. His father stood at the front door with his rifle in hand, as he left the only home he had known. To this day, he has not seen his father. His mother has called him a few times. For myself, as a parent, I cannot comprehend a parent reacting in killing their child, their own flesh and blood. Most parents get the question from their children at least once about how much do you love them? And we tell them, “No matter what you do, I will always love you.” But when the chips are down, these same parents threaten to kill their gay child, or completely ignore “that” part of their life.
I felt bad enough thinking about my son’s anguish in telling his family. I feel the pain as a parent of not knowing. And I feel that God calls me to love my gay son like my other two sons, and all those who are hurting, as well as my other Christian children, no matter what. This is what Christ, the Bible, my family, and my church has taught me.
In the New Testament, I have found no record of any words of Jesus Christ about homosexuality. Jesus Christ said absolutely nothing about this topic! Yet, I found two graceful same-gender love stories in the Old Testament: To be King David’s love to Jonathan was said to exceed his love for women; And the relationship of Ruth and Naomi can only be described as a bond of deep love. Yet, in our church’s lectionary, we do not read these parts of the Bible from the lectern. Are we hiding again?
My family does not view homosexuality as a sin. To me, the definition of sin is the alienation from God; being separated from God and others. Some people view sin as breaking of rules. I believe David’s only sin in this matter was his isolation of keeping himself hidden from his family. His distant stop our relationship from growing with me – his mother. It must have stopped other ties that hurt him. And my sin, my separation from God, was also hiding my son from other people. People often ask about my children, “Is David married or dating anyone?” And I usually said, “No, not now,” and avoid any other comments. I knew that they were referring to my son as a heterosexual. I felt angry with myself that I did not speak the truth; God made my three sons, one who happens to be gay. And my three sons are not alienated from God. All three are very active and supportive in their church.
I have attended many Affirmation meetings. This group is a lobbyist in the church. Their full name is Affirmation: United Methodist for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Concerns. This group of United Methodist women and men, gay and straight, work for total inclusiveness in my church. The gay men and lesbian women of this group treat me with esteem and kindness. In many ways, I feel like a mother to them. And their stories are so alien to me. They tell me how they are afraid of telling their families about who they are out of fear that they will be rejected.
One man from Atlanta told me his coming out story. After telling his parents that he was gay, his father said in a calm voice, “You have 15 minutes to get your stuff and get out of my house. And if I ever see you again, I will kill you.” I thought that his father was just angry at the moment, but this man told me that his father meant every word. His father stood at the front door with his rifle in hand, as he left the only home he had known. To this day, he has not seen his father. His mother has called him a few times. For myself, as a parent, I cannot comprehend a parent reacting in killing their child, their own flesh and blood. Most parents get the question from their children at least once about how much do you love them? And we tell them, “No matter what you do, I will always love you.” But when the chips are down, these same parents threaten to kill their gay child, or completely ignore “that” part of their life.
I felt bad enough thinking about my son’s anguish in telling his family. I feel the pain as a parent of not knowing. And I feel that God calls me to love my gay son like my other two sons, and all those who are hurting, as well as my other Christian children, no matter what. This is what Christ, the Bible, my family, and my church has taught me.
In the New Testament, I have found no record of any words of Jesus Christ about homosexuality. Jesus Christ said absolutely nothing about this topic! Yet, I found two graceful same-gender love stories in the Old Testament: To be King David’s love to Jonathan was said to exceed his love for women; And the relationship of Ruth and Naomi can only be described as a bond of deep love. Yet, in our church’s lectionary, we do not read these parts of the Bible from the lectern. Are we hiding again?
