Christmas Came and Went 


A reflection on the comings and goings of Christmas. 

It is the day after Christmas, St. Stephen's Day, Stephen reminds me. My Advent reflections have left me rather dry and empty of any deep thought, however pretentious that thought might have been. And so I find us in preparation to go and visit family. There is my birth family in Ohio and my family of choice in Boston, my past and my future.

I feel a real strong connection to my birth family. In fact, I have become the family genealogist. I've spent decades and countless hours within those decades unearthing and verifying information, solving family riddles, getting very close to my ancestors. In a way, I am an extension of my mother. She held on to precious memories and stories with her undeniably prodigious memory. Because I cared and listened to her over all those years, the stories took me over and I pushed them as far as I could. I DO now have a strong feeling about where I came from. I really understand my roots. There is a great comfort in knowing that when I go down to the soil, these many others went down before me in the same hope, the same despair.

Likewise, I feel a strong connection to my family of choice. Unlike the genealogist in me, Jim, the family man, is by necessity a social radical. I didn't come easy to my permanent relationship with Stephen, and I didn't come easy to the acceptance that he and his child and grandchild are my children. My country, by and large, has hated the radical maneuverings of my ilk. I'm not even well understood by my few liberal friend-supporters.

I am moved to tears as I recognize that I feel JUST LIKE JACOB wrestling with the angel. There are parallels of the story to my life. While I never succeeded in tricking my father into giving me his blessing instead of my brother (nor did I want to), the family dynamic is there. I was the guy who was close to mom and removed from my father. My brother got the birthright, and that is ok, since he cared for dad and now he cares for mom. But my point is, that in my father's eyes, I was the outcast, although he did love me.

I also identify with Jacob, who wants to marry Rachel. On the one hand, my colleagues and my political representatives have gradually recognized my claim for legitimate standing as Stephen's spouse. But on the other hand, I keep getting denied the satisfaction of things that others take for granted. Stephen can still not be my legal survivor in Illinois. That amounts to hundreds of thousands of dollars. When I campaigned for gay rights at the university, I was always being told to "be patient," read work another seven years, and then maybe we'll say, you're equal. Or given a lecture on the political realities of the State of Illinois.

And just like Jacob, I believe that God has spoken to me in various ways to indicate that I have his blessing. Most of my life, I have been a God-seeking, if not God-fearing person. I received the Peace of God in 1976, and from that day on, I knew that I was Loved and Blessed. And I have had the experience of wrestling with an angel, but only metaphorically. Let's say the angel represents staid and traditional society's approbation of me and Jacob represents my homosexual state of being. I've been wrestling with that angel all my life. The angel won't let go and give in, and I won't, by God, let go and give in. I will bruise that angel; I will have my due.

I say that Stephen and Stephanie and Alexander are my family. I've done everything legally to set this up that I can. Sure, Stephen and I get grouchy with each other. Sure, Alexander doesn't really have my DNA in his blood. I'm analogous to a childless step-parent. But don't you sneeringly try to use that fact against me in redefining my family as illegitimate, or I'll bruise your hip too.

When it comes to the mysteries of the human heart, isn't it better to just let people tell you what is in there? You know, I made a promise before God that I would be faithful to Stephen in 1993, he likewise with me. The only way to have a committed relationship is just to have it. In the end, it's that simple. My sperm has nothing to do with whether Stephanie is my daughter, just like the people across the street's collective sperm and eggs have nothing to do with whether their adoptive child from Izbekistan is their son. It's a matter of the heart, before God.

And so, with this background understood, I am doing what a lot of people do around the holidays. I'm going back to my roots, and I'm going forward into my eventual demise. I am touching once again my family of origin and my family of choice. The birth of God has something to do with this. More than that, I cannot say for sure. 

Posted: Mon - December 26, 2005 at 12:43 PM          

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