
April 22-28,
2004
The Great
Divide
After
spending years in the forefront of the media, the religious
right is suddenly sharing the spotlight—with the left
The hate letter came on a Monday morning. No
signature. No return address. It was for Pastor Karla Norton
at Trinity Presbyterian Church in Santa Cruz. The anonymous
author wrote that Norton´s house of worship was a whore
church. “Why bother going to church and what Bible do you
read?” it went on. Clearly, someone was enraged. The letter
came on the heels of an article that ran in late March in the
Santa Cruz Sentinel that reported how Norton and other local
clergy were joining together to show support for gay marriage.
The handwriting was scribble but its message was clear:
lean too far to the left and you may be kicked out of the
flock. But Pastor Norton isn´t leaving her faith. In fact,
she´s sticking up for it. Still, her defensive voice is
quiet—so far. People like Norton don´t generate much press.
People like Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson do. Their strong,
religious-right messages have become the banner under which
many Christian people have been placed. In fact, some, like
Pastor Norton, now want to distance themselves from the
controversial remarks and sweeping statements made by
representatives of the severe religious right.
“Thinking that all Christians are right wing Republicans is
way off target,” says Dave Gschwend, the executive pastor at
Santa Cruz Bible Church, considered a conservative
congregation. “My wife and I don´t agree on a lot of political
issues. … Some of the most heated political discussions I have
gotten into [are] with other conservative Christians. I know
our church has many members from both [political] parties.”
There is a gap between the religious right and the
religious left, and sometimes it´s deep. Each side often has
radically different views on hot political and moral topics.
However, there are many believers who fall somewhere in
between. Regardless, they do share one thing: a heart for
spiritual matters.
The faithful who lean far to the left—in the progressive
arena—are those who more often vote Democrat, Independent, or
Green. They might be found in civil disobedience rallies,
participating in a peace march, or blessing a civil union or
gay marriage. Some will chant “pro-choice” while others are
hearty environmentalists.
Pastor Norton and her liberal-minded colleague, the Rev.
David Grishaw-Jones, senior minister of First Congregational
Church in Santa Cruz, fall into that category. Grishaw-Jones
also received a letter similar to Pastor Norton´s. It was
threatening in nature and scribbled on a piece of paper.
Days after its arrival, Rev. Grishaw-Jones pulled the
folded note out of his front shirt pocket and read it to me.
“What God do you serve?” he read. “What Bible do you read?
Hell is a horrid place.”
“I´ve seen them before,” the reverend later says. “This
question of welcoming all people does fan the flames of
intolerance. It´s not a big surprise to me. We´re determined
to live that out anyway.”
But why target the peaceful Pastor Norton and Rev. Grishaw-Jones?
Both were at a recent meeting where about 20 religious leaders
met at Temple Beth El in Aptos to discuss the united stance
they share toward endorsing gay marriage. They´re so adamant
about this headline-grabbing topic that their efforts will
culminate in a June 4-6 weekend of workshops and discussions
called “Out, in Our Faith: Beyond Tolerance to Full
Inclusion.” It concludes with a march of solidarity in the
local gay pride parade on June 6.
This may not be what you´d expect from religious groups,
many of whom are Christians. And that´s just the point—to
derail stereotypes. Gay marriage is only one of many
controversial “progressive” topics that these left-leaning
clergy leaders support. They seem to be nonconformists, people
who don´t see things in black and white, but many shades of
gray.
“The church of Jesus is a place where there are no
boundaries,” Rev. Grishaw-Jones says. “There are no walls, no
division. We are one people standing around a circular table
worshipping the same God together. At First Congregational
Church over the last several years and months, we´ve found
people coming to us who are refugees from more fundamentalist
Christian traditions who have discovered that they´re not
welcome in those traditions and that breaks my heart. I don´t
think that´s what Jesus was all about and I don´t think really
that´s what those folks [at conservative churches] want to say
that Jesus was all about, but it certainly gets conveyed that
way.”
An opposing view is that of Gschwend from Santa Cruz Bible
Church, who says, “When it comes to establishing a position,
our philosophy is that we want unity on the essentials, we
allow diversity on the nonessentials and charity in all
things. When it comes to gay marriage, we are now discussing
essentials. My struggle with the liberal viewpoint is I
believe they have divorced truth from love. I understand their
desire to be loving, but their position clearly violates
biblical teaching. The biblical case against homosexuality is
very strong and the biblical arguments used to support the gay
lifestyle are flawed. I see the liberal perspective here to be
contrary to the Bible and the hope presented in the Bible that
life-change is available to all.”
How can the opinions of these two men differ so radically
from each other? It´s simple, really: different clergy and
their denominations interpret scripture differently, and
because of that there are splits on some doctrinal and
theological items. Grishaw-Jones takes the Bible “seriously,”
but not literally, whereas more conservative congregations
like Gschwend´s Santa Cruz Bible Church take the Bible
literally. Also, more conservative churches typically believe
that Jesus is “the way,” while liberal denominations sometimes
believe Jesus is “a way.” These variations may seem slight,
but they´re actually enormous in explaining the root for why
and how religious people can hold such vastly diverse views on
things like gay marriage, abortion, war, women in ministry,
and care for the environment.
“How one arrives at the question of truth makes all the
difference,” says Gschwend. “Clearly, there are differences on
substantial issues. For me, the essentials are: the deity of
Christ, his death on the cross for our sins, Jesus´
resurrection from the dead, our need to surrender to God´s
leadership and live a holy life, the authority of the Bible
and the triune God. I would say a break along those issues
would constitute a major split.”
And, indeed, there are hefty splits, especially on the
issue of homosexuality and gay marriage. Both in the Bible and
the Torah are written scriptures that discuss homosexuality.
Some interpret those references to mean that homosexuality is
not acceptable, while others believe it´s a non-issue.
“It´s a matter of which syllable you put the emphasis on,”
says the Rev. Pam Langston Daley, a Taoist lesbian who is
pastor of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Santa Cruz
County in Aptos, a congregation of multiple faiths.
“If one were to look at the Christian text, nothing in the
text from Jesus´ perspective says anything about
[homosexuality],” Langston Daley says. “The left interprets
[those scriptures] as an issue of hospitality. In other words,
if you invite someone into your home, you don´t sleep with
them. Jesus´ message said that God was about love. That, to
me, says you accept people where they are and how they are and
as they are. And, to judge people from that perspective is
incorrect.”
Her view is in line with that of many liberal clergy
leaders in Santa Cruz County. Grishaw-Jones concurs. He says
that sexuality comes in all shapes and sizes and is a gift
from God. In fact, one of his staff members at his church is
an “out” lesbian. Additionally, his denomination, the United
Church of Christ, was the first denomination to ordain an
openly gay man into the ministry, in 1973.
But even with the efforts of Norton, Grishaw-Jones,
Langston Daley and others who welcome gays into the church and
are unconditionally accepting, some homosexuals are still wary
of “religion.”
Recently, a pamphlet was placed on a car in a downtown
Santa Cruz parking lot. The two-inch by three-inch booklet had
an indecipherable picture on it, which read: “Homosexuals The
Wicked Social Cancer” and had biblical verses inside of it. A
GT employee pulled it off the windshield of her car and
brought it into the office.
“My first reaction was anger, being targeted for something
so hateful,” says the recipient, a lesbian. “ This is why
religion has such a bad rap with me. I know good Christians,
but they´re not the ones you see and hear. This vocal thing is
what´s prevalent. You hear all the time this propaganda of
hatred. Why do I deserve to be the target of something so
cruel when they don´t know who I am or my involvement in the
world, and yet they randomly target everybody that doesn´t fit
into their little knowledge of what´s right and what´s wrong?”
Some of the left-leaning clergy in this town say they would
like gays to know that not all Christians or religious people
are on a fiery rampage. The existing letters, booklets and
hate mail, as well as the divided issue of gay marriage, were
what prompted Temple Beth El, a reform Jewish synagogue, to
launch the conference in June, “Out, in Our Faith,” which grew
from the temple´s current gay and lesbian outreach group,
Twice Blessed. The temple´s Kathy Goldenkranz, vice president
of worship and justice, wants the GLBT population to know that
churches and synagogues accept them for who they are. “We want
to also counter that voice of the religious right,”
Goldenkranz says. “We want to promote people´s rights. It´s
our job to promote that as Jews.” And, that includes women´s
rights.
The pro-choice/pro-life argument gets a little sticky, even
within the religious left. While those interviewed by GT admit
to ultimately being in favor of a woman´s right to choose,
they believe that that choice must not be made lightly. They
corporately seem to acknowledge that it´s a difficult
decision—to abort or to go full-term with the pregnancy—and
that there are consequences involved. Still, they abstain from
telling a woman what to do with her body.
What they will speak out about, in regard to women´s
issues, is the role of women in the ministry. None of these
progressive spiritual leaders are uncomfortable with women
preaching or teaching. Quite the contrary. Rev. Grishaw-Jones´
denomination ordained the first woman in the country into the
ministry in the 19th century, he says.
For denominations that won´t allow women a position of
cleric authority, “They´re missing out on half the gifts of
God,” Grishaw-Jones says. “I think they´re misinterpreting the
scriptures. If you´re not allowing women to preach in your
church, you´re missing more than half of the best sermons I´ve
ever heard.”
This may seem obvious. Over the last three decades, women
have virtually taken on any career path they desire.
Regardless, there are many mainline denominations that do not
allow women behind the lectern even though they do allow women
to partake in some leadership positions. Those not opposed to
women preachers might be lumped together with the Jerry
Falwells of this world—the extreme right. While hardcore
conservatives don´t have many secular fans, the distaste for
their ideologies creates distance from their spiritual
brothers and sisters.
“At times I´ve preached pretty critically about the
religious right,” says Grishaw-Jones. “And frankly, I find it
easy to do that. I think that fundamentalism, in all its
manifestations, concerns me: Islamic, Jewish, Christian
fundamentalism … whenever people are so simplifying religious
faith that it [becomes] ‘them and us´—that creates in and out.
I think it´s destructive and dangerous.”
However, even among the religious right there is dissension
among their ranks. “I´m sure our church was split on its views
concerning the war in Iraq,” says Gschwend of Santa Cruz Bible
Church. This might come as a surprise to some who are quick to
place the faithful in a box, especially when it comes to
matters of war.
Believers are not all hawks. Meet Sharon Delgado, an
ordained Methodist pastor who bucks such stereotypes. Delgado
works part-time at the Resource Center for Non Violence, an
outspoken Santa Cruz-based organization. Delgado´s work there
allows her to focus on speaking and educating people about
issues relating to globalization and justice. In fact, she
says her bishop appointed her to the position she holds at
RCNV, a role that´s called an “extension ministry,” which
delivers peace and justice beyond the local church doors to
the world. She´s reluctant to be called a leftie, simply
because she avoids being labeled or categorized, but if she
must be put in a box, this is the one for Delgado. She´s a
member of the Green Party with a more radical than liberal
streak, someone who is not a pacifist, but instead subscribes
to the “just war” tradition; an anti-nuclear pacifist who does
not believe that war can resolve problems.
“I don´t believe that [Christ] was a pacifist,” Delgado
says. “I believe he was a resister. Jesus of Nazareth was put
to death—people killed him—because he was a threat to the
dominant institution of his day.”
Unwavering in her convictions, Delgado says that the
religious right is more likely to support the status quo when
it comes to controversial issues. The left, she feels, is more
likely to stir up social critique about society and various
controversial issues.
“The religious right, I have a little trouble with them,”
admits the retired Rev. Stuart Fitch, a priest who assists at
St. John the Baptist Episcopal Church in Capitola. “Partly,
they seem to be over-righteous and don´t seem to leave enough
space for questioning, and I think that God … wants us to ask
questions. … Partly, they feel they are right and it´s their
duty to let everybody know what´s right and orthodox. Maybe we
need a fire under us to get us going.”
Though the fire may be absent, the religious left is making
efforts to coalesce. Besides the meeting at Temple Beth El,
there are quite a few left-leaning clergy leaders who are
involved in a local social action group called Communities
Organized for Relational Power and Action. The group unites
members of various faiths that desire to tackle social justice
issues including topics like affordable housing and violence
in neighborhoods.
“Jesus calls us to make a difference in our communities and
work side by side with the poor … to be involved in people´s
lives,” says Grishaw-Jones. And, to be involved in the care of
this world by way of participating in environmental
conservation.
Pastor Norton agrees and says that religious people are
called to be good stewards of the environment. But, in her
opinion, we have not done a very good job of it.
The existence of God and creation is perhaps the one thing
that both the right and left agree on. Other religious clergy,
like those found in the reform Jewish synagogue, Temple Beth
El, or the spiritually inclined that belong to a Unitarian
church, part ways on theology yet unite in political action.
Other than that, the split on issues can be quite vast, with
no guarantee where the moderates fall. But this much is for
sure: there is an extreme right crowd and there´s an extreme
left. Will they ever meet in the middle? There´s always
prayer.