Prayers for Bobby

I couldn't put it down this morning. I read, and read, and absorbed. What an amazing document of love. But the book affected me. I was crying, I was choking up constantly. I was shivering with that "feeling" that runs through me when I read something so true and so inspired. Yes, it was like a spiritual experience.

The book simply tells a story, but the story is so, so poignant. It breaks your heart, it rips out false beliefs. It makes you realize that churches have been pawns in the fight against those of us who are gay. The "moral majority" (and I mournfully have to include my own faith in that description) would have us tucked into a quiet box, never to be opened or understood by society. They would have us live empty lives completely free of love and affection because it serves their purposes.

I believe truth is to be found everywhere. I told a good friend on Thursday that I was frankly a liberal mormon. But after reading that book, I could not bring myself to go anywhere near the LDS church today. Nor did I even once ask my kids to go. My youngest son told me twice yesterday he wants a wedding dress to wear. I asked why--he said, so I can go to a wedding. What if my son is gay? What place anywhere near the LDS church can I put my boy in? These are the questions that have to be asked, and frankly answered.

The church can barely bring itself to accept Gordon B. Hinckley's own statements regarding the fact that they are to love their homosexual brothers and sisters. Politically, there is no love in the moral majority. There is no kindness in being told you are a flaw in the eternal plan of our heavenly father. There is no kindness in being told you have no possibility of love within the bounds of marriage in this life.

I read the story of Mary Griffith, Bobby's mother with fascinating interest. I once acted like her, spreading gospel verses, and feeling the same way she did--imagine that, a gay guy who was once homophobic. As she studied, and changed after her son's suicide, she came to feel in some ways like I have. Christianity has "adopted" a particular view of homosexuality to keep things within its comfort zones. She no longer believes in a literal Satan. Neither do I.

Her choices are inspiring. To go from one exteme to a literal fight and struggle to help teenagers like ourselves.

These are her words:

"To all the Bobbys and Janes out there, I say these words to you as I would to my own precious children: Please don't give up hope on life or yourselves. You are very special to me and I am working very hard to make this life a better and safer place for you to live in."

"I firmly believe--though I did not back then--that my son Bobby's suicide is the end result of homophobia and ignorance within most Protestant and Catholic churches, and consequently within society, our public schools, our own family."

"What a travesty of God's love for children to grow up believing themselves to be evil, with only a slight inclination toward goodness. . . . Is it any wonder our young people give up on love, as Bobby did, and the hope of ever receiving the validation they deserve as beautiful human beings?"

"But as a result of my son's death, I have joined other caring people to try to make a pathway with knowledge and understanding within our public school system, a pathway that in time may be traveled with dignity and freedom from fear, for gay and lesbian students, and any student who is subjected to discrimination."

"Promise me you will keep trying."

"Bobby gave up on love. I hope you won't. You are always in my thoughts."

With love, Mary Griffith.