The Rev. Jim Mitulski
“You have had a blessed life,” Anthony commented with a touch of envy to me recently when I was recounting my 1970s coming out story as a gay teenager in Detroit. I was thinking about the blessing of being gay as I watched the rainbow pride flag being raised at City Hall in Foster City June 1, where it will bear witness to inclusion for the entire month.
It didn’t always feel like a blessing. I have had it a lot easier than many who struggle to accept themselves as gay. Their families and faith communities sometimes make it even harder. I had friends and teachers who supported me when I came out. I came out suddenly so I’ve never been in the closet as an adult. My dad found a magazine in my dresser that featured a racy picture of a Tom Selleck look-alike and confronted me. If it had been a Playboy instead he would have been happy. He said, “I wish we had never adopted you,“ and didn’t speak to me for 20 years. I never once went home until I was almost 40.
But my mother more than made up for this rejection. When she asked me, “Jimmy, are you a homosexual?” I wanted to die. I was so ashamed. My family was deeply religious; I feared she too would reject me. I considered lying, but I loved her too much to not tell the truth. I barely whispered, “yes,” when she hugged me and said: “Don’t let anybody ever tell you that God doesn’t love you.” Her reaction got me through a lot of challenges in the years to come.
Religion made things hard for our family, as it does for so many LGBT people. Many just give up on it, but my mother’s words kept me connected. I became a pastor in gay affirming churches, helping people who have been hurt by religion to reclaim their spirituality.
In my mother’s generation being gay was something that was seen as a sin or a sickness.
My devout mother was a research chemist, a proud graduate of a Jesuit university, and she wasn’t afraid to let her intellect inform her faith. She sought out her old Jesuit priest instructors, who helped her find Catholic theologians who accepted the scientific basis for homosexuality. She went to gay affirming masses offered by Dignity, a group for gay Catholics and their families. She informed her own conscience and called out the church for its unwillingness to engage modern psychology. My mother spent the rest of her life being part of my life, which included my gay life. I was an activist. I survived HIV and am still going strong. She didn’t miss any of it. My dad eventually came around, and we reconciled fully. He regretted all the years he missed out on because he misused his religion as a way of justifying his unwillingness to learn and grow. I can trace the inner strength I have to face a sometimes hostile world to the unconditional love of Jacqueline Downs Mitulski, and to her deep faith, her best gift to me. As we stood together at my father’s funeral at her church in Michigan, the pastor made a point of telling me not to come to communion. I was the one who had to restrain her from making a scene on my behalf. She had become the activist that she had raised me to be.
These were my memories as I watched the pride flag being raised in Foster City. Last year, the rainbow flag was up for a week after a brief controversy. Rabbi Corey Helfand and Peninsula Sinai Congregation raised their voices alongside Island United Church to advocate for the rainbow display. Their solidarity sent a message to LGBT people that religion can be our advocate, not just our oppressor. This is the kind of solidarity we must express with the transgender community, whose acceptance remains imperiled.
I’m proud that Island United Church’s flag was used in the ceremony. I appreciate this congregation that stands for God’s all inclusive love. In my lifetime, I have seen religious groups and institutions change in a move toward acceptance we couldn’t have imagined when I was growing up.
Parents: Love your children no matter what your religion says. God is greater than religion. LGBT people: Keep the faith — the world is still changing, and we have a place in it.
The Rev. Jim Mitulski is the interim pastor of Island United Church of Foster City, co-president of the Peninsula Multifaith Coalition and a member of the San Mateo NAACP and the Peninsula Solidarity Cohort.
