How Churches May Actually Help Gays Win the Marriage Fight

At the top of a hill in Berkeley, California -- above the city's stucco angles, crinkled palm fronds and coffee shops -- Rev. Mark Wilson is seated at a piano. Horizontal bands of evening sun pour through the stained glass to his right, dotting his forehead with pearls of sweat. He closes his eyes.

Today is July 5, 2009 -- the day after Independence Day. Wilson, a broad, boisterous man with a neatly etched triangle of beard, is feeling political.

In a moment, he'll explain to his congregation what 'independence' means to him -- a gay, African-American pastor living in a state that continues to deny same-sex citizens the right to marry. He'll discuss "the flip side of freedom," that shadowy space where those who are only nominally free reside. Mostly, Wilson will do what he's been doing for over a year now: disrupt expectations about Christianity's role in the marriage equality movement.

He's not alone. Over 6,000 members of California's clergy currently stand opposed to Proposition 8. Their ranks stretch from Sacramento to San Diego and include Christians, Muslims, Jews and Buddhists.

Wilson, for his part, could congest a resume with the ways he's been involved. In the months leading up to last November's vote, he made marriage equality a central topic in his sermons; he joined "And Marriage 4 All," a Northern California-based coalition of African-American clergy, political leaders and activists; he even performed a short-notice wedding for five same-sex couples -- complete with a rainbow cake -- two days before the marriage ban passed.

Recently, he's been working for a marriage equality coalition sponsored by two gay rights groups ("And Marriage 4 All" and "And Castro For All"). He's also joined a telephone conference committee that's organizing the Marriage Equality March in October in Washington D.C. On August 29, he will serve as a panelist for an advocacy program, sponsored by Socialist Action, in San Francisco.

"It's not an issue about sin," he told me in late June. It's an issue about justice. It's an issue about two people trying to have the same rights and benefits. Not only that, but the dignity, the pride, the respect for the relationship -- just like anybody else would want to have."

Many members of California's faith community besides Wilson have found creative ways to take a stand: at least 10 were arrested in May for acts of civil disobedience following the Supreme Court's upholding of Proposition 8; two occupy seats on the board of directors for Equality California, one of the state's largest GLBT advocacy networks. A few are working on social networking campaigns that involve services like YouTube and Twitter.

Some have even announced they will not perform any marriages -- gay or straight -- until the ban is dissolved. Art Cribbs, a minister in southern California, joined a Cleveland-based campaign called Refuse-to-Sign in early July. A nationwide alliance of progressive clergy, Refuse-to-Sign aims to divide marriage into a two-step process: a secular, legislative aspect, in which gay and straight couples are granted all the benefits straight marriage affords; and a religious aspect, where they can celebrate their union at a sympathetic church, synagogue or mosque. It's this clear Church/state demarcation, according to Cribbs, that is essential to safeguarding civil liberties.

"When I insist that my theology, my religion, my faith, determines how others live, that restricts their access to the same privileges, opportunities and rights of others," he told me. "I could not, with any integrity, perform a wedding for one class of people and know that another class of people would be denied."

In the wake of Proposition 8's passage, secular GLBT advocates agreed that the Christian Right had monopolized the debate's religious angle -- that progressive faith leaders had been underutilized. Most now agree that winning marriage equality means buttressing institutional efforts with a strong faith message.