Below is an excerpt:
On Sunday morning our gospel choir sang an extraordinary song by Kurt Carr called “For Every Mountain.”
When I watched a video of Carr’s own choir performance, I felt too white and too stiff. But when I took my place in the bass section, stereotypes faded away. I knew that every one of us — myself included — had known trials and had to climb mountains of daunting height.
Every one of us had to trust in God’s grace and mercy, in a strength and determination that were beyond ours. If we have known blessings, we didn’t earn them. God loved us before we knew we needed loving.
I didn’t know my part of the song as well as I would like. But I knew my history. I knew that when a Spirit-filled alto began to weep, she was weeping for all of us. When our soprano soloist soared higher and higher, she was carrying all our praises.
When I gave my best, it was my best, not a comparison with anyone else, just my best for the God who has “seen me through.”
Shortly after we sang, more than 40 people from Park Avenue Christian Church took their places in the massive 2012 Pride March down Fifth Avenue. Again, stereotypes faded away. People weren’t wondering who was gay and who was straight. They saw hands joined in a cry for freedom, justice, dignity and respect.
This march, like its counterparts in other cities, wasn’t about sex, but about people with lives and loves, trials and triumphs — in short, people whom God has chosen to love.