In the early 90s, after just having moved to LA, I ended a 14-year marriage, started a new job, and I met Eugene. I’m a straight male; Eugene is gay.

Eugene had also recently — some years before — lost his partner of almost 20 years to cancer. I think that when Gene and I originally met, our bonding was simply as two men who had recently suffered deep and traumatic losses in relationships. We commiserated over those losses and shared our pains and frustrations.

Gene was the first gay man I’d been very close to. Inevitably, that closeness led to a direct collision of our differing sexual orientations. We did — honestly, awkwardly, and uncomfortably, at first — come to terms with it; eventually finding mutual acceptance, by each, of the other’s sexual identity.

We could talk about anything — and we did — passionately, without judgment or recrimination. We talked about politics, music, films, books, even openly about sex and relationships from our respective points of view. We talked about raising sons — Gene having helped raise his partner’s son, Kevin, with whom he is still very close, and I about my sons, Ross and Cole.

Not long ago, when this congregation wrestled with the issue of display of a banner on the front of the church declaring “Civil Marriage Is a Civil Right,” I opposed that measure at the time, but not out of any lack of support for the issue. At the same time, when the motion failed to pass — I realized, and pledged to myself — that my job now was to find a way to make a strong, personal stand on this issue.

This was not a difficult stand to take — out of my love and respect for Eugene and out of my respect for the warmth, love, and commitment of gay and lesbian couples in the church and elsewhere. It was also out of my belief that the many currently proposed and passed laws in the states of our country bear more resemblance to the anti-miscegenation laws of the first half of the last century than to anything else. These laws effectively defend no one or no one’s marriage.

So when I learned of Interweave’s plans to march in the Los Angeles Gay Pride Parade on June 12, with the same banner proposed for the front of the church, I gradually realized — and it was a gradual realization — that I had to be there. I told the Interweavers in my email that though I was moving a little beyond my comfort zone, I wished to strongly support them and “Civil Marriage Is a Civil Right” by my presence with them at the parade.

Today I light the chalice in honor of all those straight males and females who overcome fear and awkwardness and stand up clearly on this issue of justice — in honor of the loving and committed gay and lesbian relationships in our church and elsewhere, which need not be defended but rather stand as examples to loving and committed partners everywhere, and in honor of “Civil Marriage Is a Civil Right,” a right that cannot justly be denied.