This is part 4 of the serial story that is posted each Monday morning by 9 a.m. As you read the story, try to put yourself in the place of the pastor and consider how you would have responded.
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She lifted her chin as if to force herself to continue. “We sat down in the family room. Harold was all bent over, looking at the floor. ‘El,’ he began, ‘I do love you and the children, and I have never felt so worthless in my whole life. I have seriously considered killing myself, but just didn’t have the guts.’
“I was now convinced that I knew what is coming, and I was angry. ‘ Who is she?’ I asked.
“Then came the bomb shell. He looked up at me and with more pain than I think I’d ever seen in a person’s eyes, he said, ‘That’s the problem. It isn’t another woman.’ Then, in almost a whisper, he said, ‘It’s a man.’
“What!” I screamed. I went a little crazy and called him a fag and a number of other words that I’d rather not repeat because I’m ashamed I used them. In your sermon, you said the truth shall set you free. Well, as far as I’m concerned, the truth is that my husband is going straight to hell, and there is nothing I can do about it.”
I felt frightened that I might say the wrong thing at such a crucial moment. I knew that I had to avoid getting defensive about what she had heard in the sermon. This was not about me; it was about her. “Eleanor,” I said, “I can’t take back the sermon, but I can help you think this through if you are willing to talk about it some more.”
Her face again contorted in a mixture of agony and despair. “Ever since I was a child, the church has told me that I was supposed to believe in the Bible. I know we’ve just started coming to your church, but I’ve heard several preachers on TV and in other churches make it pretty clear from the Bible that my husband is going to hell. I don’t know what there is to talk about.”
Sometimes as we engage in the theological debate about homosexuality in the church, we forget that real people and real pain are being felt among our members. I felt a twinge of anger at some of my more vocal colleagues as I tried to speak. “Let’s separate things out a bit. At this moment, are you angriest at me for the sermon, the Bible, or your husband?”
The question seemed to interrupt her spiraling despair. She stared at me for a long time. It was as if trying to sort it out calmed the fury and let her mind focus. Then she smiled ruefully and said, “I’m not letting any of you off the hook, but let’s start with the Bible.”
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Part 5 will be posted May 6. How would you approach talking about the Bible with Eleanor?
