Greg is one of the many LGBT friends and mentors I have encountered during the last four years at Santa Clara. Like any other demographic, some of these friends are in long-term relationships, others are single, and some are other places in between. They are some of the most important people in my life, whatever their relationship status. Having said that, I cannot describe the overwhelming sense of joy and relief and justice that I felt when I heard this great political news today. Marriage (or no marriage) never affected my view of LGBT people or their romantic relationships–I naturally think of some couples I know as if they were married, just like my own parents–but in this very concrete judicial decision I had a deep sense of how much it symbolically mattered for my friends’ lives, and the many ways in which this tangible stride toward equality had the potential to inform the ways they are perceived by others.

“Love Rules” –those two little words captured the relatively recent formation of my own views about LGBTQ folk. I came to college generally indifferent about gay and lesbian people. I knew few, especially those who were out, and honestly, if I were asked about homosexuality I would have likely said, “It is probably wrong,” hesitantly referencing the Bible or popular Christian reasonings on the issue. It was not until I fell in love with certain people, and experienced the genuine goodness of their love and faith and hope–only to discover later that these individuals were gay and lesbian people–that I came to realize that I could not, actually, “hate the sin but love the sinner.” It was impossible to love as Jesus loved while “hating” a formative aspect of their identity. Just as I easily recognized that no one could hate women but really love ME, I could not separate my love and affection for my friends from their sexualities.

Love ruled–it won out over the awkwardness of unfamiliarity, over the passages that I had once read as dismissals of homosexuality, over the fear I held about standing up to my community–especially my Christian community–on an issue that many people would hold against me.

And isn’t that the kind of love we associate with God? A love that can overrule all of our pre-conceptions? A love that is bigger than even the supposed Christian truths that we try to glimpse with our human minds? If we ultimately believe that Love Rules above all, then we are necessarily vulnerable to surprise. To changing our minds. To being overturned.

Don’t get me wrong–I love politics, and I think it is only natural that religion and politics are bound up together in people’s lives. Furthermore, I think politics can be discussed from the pulpit in productive manner (side note: barring pro-choice candidates from the Eucharist is not what I would classify as productive).

What gets me about the hype surrounding Obama’s (former) pastor Rev. Wright, and now other talk about John McCain’s (supposed) pastor Rev. John Hagee is that the stories are ultimately meant to incriminate candidates more than the preachers themselves (Why else would these particular pastors make the headlines, right?).

In Obama’s case, he has rebuked the “anti-American” remarks of Rev. Wright time and time again, yet the media continues to question the candidate’s patriotism due to the pastor’s comments. This is precisely what bothers me about the situation: since when did anyone agree with all the religious AND political views of their pastors and church leaders?

I know few people who would claim to side with everything their church leaders believe and teach. And those who do claim to unanimously side with their pastors–they often do not actually agree with everything once there is a close examination of the issues. I am not saying that it is necessarily wrong to unanimously agree with church leaders so long as the issues at hand continue to be critically examined. I am simply pointing out an overlooked contradiction in the association between presidential candidates and their religious leaders: you and I don’t agree with everything our leaders preach, so why should assume that the candidates do?

When we step back to examine our membership in church communities, most people would agree that there is always one imperfection or another. That’s simply part of being a member of a community–we make compromises. Obama and McCain and every candidate and every person affirms certain aspects of a community with his/her membership, while sacrificing other expectations. Its the reality of a broken, human church.

It is possible to be a dedicated member of a community, even if I don’t agree with my pastor’s politics.