Openning the Circle Wider. A Story about Forgiveness. By Henry Amador-Batten

"The following is a story I shared with a group of wonderful people.

I share it here today and with you in the hope that even just one person sees themselves reflected in the words and perhaps finds some healing and some peace."

Henry

A few evenings ago, while tucking my youngest into bed we fell deep into one of those beautifully special and intimate conversations, you all know or remember those talks with your kids, in the dark, snuggled under blankets, when all the world feels fast asleep and nothing but nothing bad could possibly penetrate that little sacred space right?

As we lay there, he asked me to tell him the story, yet again, about the man I had spoken about in my *Spiritual Odyssey at our UU Fellowship.

I've also been given permission to share this with you all.

Let me back track for just a moment.

While writing my talk I had to dig deep into my past and all the how’s and whys and who’s that I had encountered on my journey.

I even titled my speech “Follow the Yellow Brick Road” because of how Dorothy’s journey back to her home or herself is so familiar to so many.

And of course because I'm gay and I love all things Judy.

“Everything you were looking for was right there with you all along,” remember that line?

Well one of the men I had encountered on my journey was a Faith Healer and Television Evangelist named John Wesley Fletcher, some of you may remember him being involved with Tammy Faye, Jim Bakker and the PTL scandal in the early 1980's.

Well he figured prominently in my youth, in my life's story and in my presentation research. I began to wonder what had happened to him and I also could not remember the last time I had even thought about him.

As a young man growing up in South Florida, I was desperately and secretly struggling with my sexuality. My mother was raising me as a single parent with no man in the house and I'm sure she found solace in the fact that he had found me, taken an interest in me. 

I spent a lot of time with that man praying for some divine intervention. 

Something, otherworldly that would come down and because of my faith, or more so, if I only had enough faith, would change who I was.

It would cleanse me of the parts of me that felt shameful and wrong.

I believed it would happen and my rise in his youth group was another indicator that if I only believed more and trusted more, I would find the cure I was looking for, the one that John had promised me.

But we all know how those stories end don’t we?

I involved Ben in this part of my journey because, believe it or not, we found the end of John’s story right here in our present home city of Durham NC, at his grave site in the Maplewood Cemetery where he was buried.

He passed away from Aids related complications in 1996 at the age of 56.

I will be 56 this October.

You see, he was and always had been the exact thing I was trying so desperately to pray away.

Finding him in the cemetery was an adventure within itself.

They gave us a grave number and a map. It felt a bit like we were searching for some star’s home with one of those cheap maps you can buy on the corner of Hollywood and vine.

He was a larger than life figure to me, especially in my younger minds eye and I was certain we would find him easily by the grandeur of his monument, but this could not have been further from the truth.

No, his simple marker was barely visible to the naked eye, had obviously not been visited in a very long time and was completely overgrown with weeds and grass that had crept up and all around it with time.

I knelt down in front of it and instinctively began to pull the weeds and clean it off. I think I told myself that it was so that I could take a photo but truthfully, I felt surprisingly sad for him.

It reminded me of those moments after my mother had passed where I calmly and seemingly without thought got a warm washcloth from the hospice bathroom and washed her face, her hands and then her feet. 

It felt cleansing and meaningful, for me.

You could call it a story of redemption, a story of not abandoning, of going out to reclaim myself and perhaps in turn, him. 

I'm not certain, but I do know that he died alone and broke and broken and that by showing Ben that simple act of kindness we, together, brought him back into the circle of human love and care. 

He had done so much wrong to so many but now through different lenses I can see that he was just another human being doing what he could with what he had.

And no-one belongs outside the circle, not even him.

I shared this story with Ben to help him understand that we can never run from who we are and that we are all worthy of compassion and of understanding and yes, of forgiveness.

I had, without even knowing, closed a wound whose pain I had apparently grown numb too.

And I had the honor to close that very deep and profound chapter of my life with my child by my side.

I would be having these conversations with our children regardless of the city we lived in or the fellowship we belonged to because this is our truth.

We would be talking about diversity and acceptance and community regardless of where we are because we are citizens of this World and there will always be someone who will challenge our sons and conversely they will always be faced with the opportunity to feel better than or superior to another person who’s path they may cross. 

Yes, we would be telling them our stories and helping them understand differences and compassion no matter where we lie our heads down to sleep - but how fortunate are we to have found this loving place and all of you loving people, who fundamentally believe in the principles that we believe in and who also offer us a space to reinforce those foundations publicly.

The lives that are led here, the examples that are set here all make us feel as though we are not traveling this road alone.

I don’t only mean because flags are flown, rainbow lanyards are worn, or pride is felt for identifying as an ally - although all of those things are truly amazing.

No, but it is because I know, that late at night when you are snuggled in your beds, covered in warm blankets and all the world is asleep, that in those tender moments, in your sacred spaces, you all share our beliefs and our values and you honestly hold us in your hearts.

And that my friends means more than words can fully express.

Namaste

*Spiritual Odyssey - a talk given by members of a Unitarian Universalist Congregation sharing how thier spiritual journey has gotten them to present day.