Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I’m found.
Was blind, but now I see.

20 years ago, a man named Matthew Shepard died. His remains are being interred this week in the National Cathedral in Washington. Matt was not a very remarkable young man, had I passed him on the street I doubt I would have thought twice about him. The reason he is being interred, like the reason for his death, begins and ends with a single fact. Matt Shepard was gay.

At the time of his death, I was shocked, but didn’t think much about it. Already I understood that being gay could be a death sentence. It was a sad day, but not an unusual one. By that time I had already been on both sides of the gay “question”. I had gone from thinking homosexuality was the most terrible of sins to understanding that gay people were exactly like any other person, with the exception of who they fell in love with. It was circuitous journey for me, one full of events that I would really like to forget. I carry a very clear understanding that I wasn’t always on the side of the angels with this one, and some of my mistakes burn on my conscious.

Growing up, I lived in fear of being gay. It was a common slur, and one that I took to heart. A fag was the worst of creatures; a male who was not quite a man. Later, when I was a Christian, I continued in the fear of gayness; quoting scriptures, condemning to hell, the whole thing. The church is a great excuse for one’s actions, but let me be clear; the sins of my time then are mine, not theirs. I knew better, I just didn’t act that way. Mind you, I didn’t hit anyone, or look for ways to harm someone who was gay, outside of offering them condemnation instead of fellowship. But I was also never their friend. I was not, what Jesus would have been; kind and compassionate.

In 1988 when I moved to LA, I left behind most of my Christianity. It was here I met my first gay friend. Todd taught me many things; what it was like to be gay, how to like yourself regardless of what the world thinks of you, how to be happy in the middle of chaos, and how to be compassionate towards those less fortunate. This last part was ironic. We’d both come from the church–which was one of the things we hit upon from the start, and allowed us to grow closer–but it was only after leaving the church I learned to love those who were still afflicted with their own internal fears about manliness and what being a man meant. I had to leave the church to fully see its flaws.

Now that I’m a father, I am thankful that my son has not been raised with this particular fear. He will be many things in this life, and I look forward to seeing as many of his transformations as I can, but he will not be a homophobe. At least he will not learn that by me.

In the end, this is all I can leave the Matt Shepards of the world. I cannot repair the wrongs I have done in the past, but I can change what I do today and in the future. As his ashes are laid to rest, consecrating that already holy ground, I am reminded of that great hymn, Amazing Grace.

I once was lost, but now am found.
Was blind, but now I see.

May that we all find our grace.