Commentary: The world of them and us, a look at the Methodist Church decision to ban gay marriage

By FRED KRONER
fred@sjodaily.com

Since graduating from college, I have continued my education in the biggest and most elaborate classroom that exists: Life.

Much of the time, I learned in silence by listening.

I’ve also had years to reflect.

Doing so created an awakening that should have been obvious decades ago.

Some of my relatives were racists. And bigots.

There is no pride or satisfaction in acknowledging that. Just sadness.

And yet, it helps to understand why people who were raised in environments such as this have a tendency to be intolerant and unaccepting of views other than ones with which they are familiar and they know well.

Perhaps the greatest benefit of spending four decades in the newspaper industry is the chance to work with and associate with people from a myriad of backgrounds, beliefs and persuasions.

The eye-opening part of the process is that you don’t need to come from the same place to be filled with the same ideals and goals.

We are all people, trying to make our way in the world and trying to do our part individually to make the world a better place.

For me, it’s liberating to be part of the change, to have a role in breaking the cycle of discrimination that I am sure existed within the hearts of some relatives.

The points hit home last week like a sledgehammer on a nail: Swiftly and with force.

My church — which espouses the motto of ‘open hearts, open minds, open doors’ — is showing that the words are hollow and meaningless.

At an international conference in St. Louis, which started on last Monday, more than half of the United Methodist delegates voted to continue bans on same-sex marriages and ordination of gay clergy.

As a lifelong heterosexual, one question might be obvious.

Why should I care?

Why?

Why??

Why do we care if slavery was abolished?

Why do we care that people are not persecuted for their religious beliefs?

Why do we care if someone gets aid and assistance after a natural disaster strikes?

In all cases, the answer is the same: Because it’s the humane and compassionate thing to do.

Though I can not quote Bible scripture and passages with accuracy, I’m pretty sure the words, “do unto others as you would have others do unto you,” are included.

We’re not talking about “them” and “us.”

There is only us; a great big, collective group of us.

We may not look the same or sound the same, but we breathe the same and set goals the same.

Under the influence of relatives — adults you are taught to respect — I doubt if I would have felt this way in my young teen-age years.

Living in the world can either harden your beliefs or soften your heart.

I’m proud of my transformation, of the ability to accept all people for who they are and what they are.

In the interest of full disclosure, one of my best friends is a lesbian.

I’ve visited with her countless times in her family’s home as well as her own residence, both before and after I knew.

We’ve watched movies together, traveled together, ate together and watched ball games together.

I remember the day she made the reveal to me. She started the conversation by saying, “I think I am a …”

She was scared to say the words, sacred of the possible reaction she would receive, scared that she might have one less friend.

When she finished, I assured her.

“You’re still the same person I knew five minutes ago and the same person I’ll know five years from now.”

I know her heart, her compassion, her nature.

We are still friends; good friends.

I considered it my privilege to introduce her to an assembled crowd at a Hall-of-Fame function where she was an inductee.

In all my years of sportswriting, there was only one story I intentionally did not write, though to be fair, there were others that didn’t get done because I ran out of time or couldn’t reach the proper sources.

It was sometime in the 1990s, a mother from a small community in East Central Illinois called and asked that I write what she termed “an expose” on a particular area junior college that was recruiting her daughter to play sports.

“The coaches are a bunch of lesbians,” she told me.

As I hung up, I thought to myself that it was a good thing that her daughter wasn’t going to that school. Those coaches didn’t need someone on their team with a parent so intolerant and hateful.

In retrospect, that thought was perhaps misguided. Maybe the daughter should have attended that school so she could recognize we don’t live in a “them” and “us” society.

Without question, any group or sub-group that is mentioned will include people that are good and others who are not.

The category to which each of us belongs is a reflection on the person, not the greater group to which they are associated.

I am disappointed and somewhat disillusioned at the stance the hierarchy of the United Methodist Church took last week, but that does not detract from the number of hard-working and wonderful individuals who are either leaders or members of the congregations.

I’m sure there are still some with open hearts and open minds.

I believe, because that is the way I would want to be treated.