Sandy: Reminds me of the old intelligence tests. This is to this as that is to that. Some similarities, but ultimately no match. Black is an intrinsic God-given characteristic that cannot change. How you have sex is a choice you make and you can change that.
Audience: Boo!!!!
Sandy: “The Boy from Minnesota” from the recently-nominated movie “Milk” was 17 when Harvey Milk, the first openly gay city commissioner from San Francisco, befriended him. Girard Dols has now left the homosexual lifestyle and is a chaplain in Wisconsin. It is possible to change.”
Audience: More boos.
Gay man: You think I would choose this discrimination? You think I can live without sex?
Sandy: As a heterosexual female whose had to live without sex, I assure you, you can.
Then my ally, “Karen,” made a fatal mistake. She made mention of God and the Bible. Like a cross held before the blood-induced stupor of a new vampire, the rage began. The female attorney went on a tirade about how irrelevant the Bible was today. The white lesbian invoked her personal faith accusingly and relayed how she and her partner had taken communion together the week before she was drowned. “These people make their case against us solely on the Bible,” declared another.
Then a young, gay man, was recognized by Tyra. He said his father had just beaten him for being gay because the Bible had instructed him to do so. He wept uncontrollably, but it was difficult to tell if the story was genuine or if he was a member of the Screen Actor’s Guild. It must have been purely coincidental that he was seated on the end, Tyra chose him for a comment and the tears came so perfectly timed. From across the studio 50 feet away, Tyra accused me of “looking” insensitive.
The show became a free for all. The bottom line was that homosexuals are victims and the three of us—along with the mom and dad in the earlier segment—were insensitive hateful, standing in the way of full happiness for all homosexuals.
And then as abruptly as it had started, the show ended. We left the stage, the three of us, following our three “opponents.” I was struck by how fruitless the exchange had been and so I addressed them to their backs, “I wish the six of us could just sit down and talk.” The large, white lesbian spun around and declared angrily, “I don’t have anything to say to you. You have no idea what I’ve been through. I lost my lover and couldn’t even visit her in the hospital.”
“I do know something about that and I think that’s terrible,” I responded.
“You hate me!” she announced.
“You know nothing about me,” I replied.
I looked to Sam who began shouting at me for being a bigoted homophobe—just like the perpetrators of racial hatred in the civil rights era. I reached out for his elbow and he snarled, “Don’t touch me!” As he continued to yell and accuse, I asked, “Sam, why is it you can’t have a conversation? Why is it you can talk but seem unable to listen?” He moved on angrily. A few moments later, my sweet partner, Karen, the slightly plump mom from South Carolina was making her way to the bathroom when the homosexual-marriage-defending, well-put-together black attorney yelled at her that she was fat and needed to lose some weight.
Yes. Homosexuals are the victims and we are the haters. It must be true because that’s what you see on TV. You will see that clearly when the show is aired. But what you won’t see is the hatred and anger regularly doled out by homosexual activists on people who oppose their view—especially people of faith.
It is the price to be paid for speaking the truth in the hopes that some will listen—and lives will be transformed.
I don’t mind. What I do mind is that millions are deceived…gay and straight.