Subject: Re:  Southern Baptist same-sex marriage

This is the article from the Raleigh News and Observer, 3/16/92,
copied without permission.  Pullen Baptist is in Raleigh.  I'm not
sure if it's a white or black church, but I'd hazard to guess it's
primarily white.


Jay
    jcagle@carvm3.vnet.ibm.com

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"Gay couple united after months of controversy"

By Billy Warden


RALEIGH -- It was Friday, two days before the wedding.

The doorbell rang.  Steven Churchill jumped up from the love seat
where he had been nestling with his soon-to-be partner for life.

"It's UPS," Steven said, peaking out the window.

He returned with a white box.  "Is it from Belk's?" asked Kevin
Turner, his chosen mate.

"Yeah."

"Is it ticking?"

"Huh?" Steven grunted, alarmed.

"It was a joke," Kevin said.  "Just a JOKE."

So Steven was a little tense.  The past six month had been rough.
In September, Steven and Kevin asked to be joined forever in a gay
union at Pullen Memorial Baptist Church.

On Sunday, at 2 p.m., it happened.  After many meetings with
church members, after a congregation vote, after bouts of guilt,
Steven and Kevin were joined in a ceremony that looked like any
formal wedding -- red and white flowers, tuxedos, an exchange of
vows and rings.  Except there was no white dress.

On Friday, preparing for the ceremony, Kevin opened the white box
and pulled out a plate adorned with swirling puples, pinks and
greens.  It was a classic scene:  a young couple starting a new
life receiving gifts and good wishes.  The courtship of Kevin and
Steven was fairly classic, too.

But when they decided to wed -- that's when the romance became a
roller coatster.


First Date

They met Feb. 10, 1989, at a party in an apartment complex
clubhouse.  "I thought he was cute," Kevin said.  "He was very
nervous," Steven recalled.

Steven stands 5 feet, 10 inches.  His hair is red and he smiles a
lot.  He is 23, a customer service representative for a Raleigh
company that he refuses to name.  His parents, who live in
Raleigh, volunteered to throw the rehersal dinner Saturday.

Kevin is 28, shorter, rounder, darker, wittier, more intellecual
and a graduate student in physics at N.C. State University.

Their first real date was at Snoopy's on Wake Forest Road.  Kevin
hates hot dogs.  "It shows how much I really like Steven that I
went," he said.  A couple of months later, lying in bed, Kevin
told Steven, "I love you."

On Sept. 1, 1989, they moved into a roomy North Raleigh apartment
overlooking a small muddy pond.  Neither had been involved in a
serious, long-term relationship before.  Nor had they led
especially active love lives.  But what they were feeling for each
other felt real, they said, permanent.

"He offers emotional stability, he's intelligent and he's quite
handsome," said Steven of Kevin.

"He's supportive, he's understanding, he's very affectionate,"
said Kevin.


Picture of their invitation, program, and reception napkin, with
caption, "Steven Churchill and Kevin Turner chose many traditional
wedding elements for their union at a Raleigh church."Y

Last summer, they sat in their living room waching a "Donahue"
show about gay unions.  It was then that they decided to go see
Mahan Siler, the pastor at Pullen Baptist where Kevin worships.
They wanted a ceremony that would join them for life.

Kevin and Steven met with Siler many times in his office.  They
talked about love and commitment, how the ceremony would be done
(very traditionally, it turns out) and the anger the idea might
stir.

Siler decided their request was reasonable and took it to the
board of deacons.  The deacons asked the 700 congregation members
to discuss it and then vote.

During the discussion phase, small groups got together and talked
over why people supported or opposed the union.  For Steven, the
more emotional of the two, the going was rough.

Steven worked on Sundays, but he wanted to be at the services to
meet the congregation.  So he took off Sundays.  On weekdays he
dashed from work to discussion meetings.  On Wednesday he ate with
the congregation at the church's weekly dinner.  The spotlight was
exhausting.

Steven's co-workers didn't know he was gay.  Now his name was in
the newspaper.  His supervisor assured him there wouldn't be any
discrimination, but an awkward, tense feel lingered for a couple
of days.

Finally, March 1, Siler announce the vote.  Sixty-four percent of
the congregation gave the union the go-ahead.  Kevin and Steve
were thrilled, and then the fallout hit.

Talking to Siler a couple of days later, Kevin could hear the pain
in the pastor's voice.  Longtime members of the church were
leaving in protest.  Calls from across the contry flooded Pullen's
phones.  "Don't you know this is wrong?" incensed callers
demanded.  "Don't you know scripture?"

The happy couple felt they were to blame.

"There are times when I've felt guilty," Kevin said.  "People are
in pain over this.  It's easy to say, 'I'm the cause.'  But then I
think, well, the church could have voted the other way.  The
church decided this.

"And some people have told us we're very courageous.  We don't
feel courageous...and we don't feel guilty."


'There is no bride'

With the wedding set, Kevin and Steven went about figuring out the
frills -- cake, tuxedos, wedding party china pattern.

Registering at Hudson Belk was Steven's idea.  "We just went in
and said we wanted to register and no one batted an eye," said
Kevin, amazed.  "Except there was this bride-to-be and her mother
behind us, and they looked like they couldn't figure out WHAT was
going on!"

At a cake shop, the man behind the counter said, "If you're
looking at wedding cakes, shouldn't the bride be here?"

Steven murmured, "There is no bride."

The man offered no more advice.

Steven asked his sister to stand with him at the altar.  Kevin
asked a mutual friend.  Both sets of parents attended.  The rings
are plain gold bands to be worn on the right, not left, hand --
signifying that theirs is not a typical union.  The honeymoon will
be short -- one day in Wilmington.

Most of the elements of a genuine marriage were there, except that
the state won't recognize the two as officially joined.  No
matter, they seem content together.

"I guess he just makes me happy," Kevin said.

"You GUESS?!," Steven erupted.

Kevin gave him a playful pinch on the belly.

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