Clergy forget their history
The Rev. William Dickerson, pastor of Dorchester's Greater Love Tabernacle, was a lonely man at the State House yesterday, and he wasn't happy about it.
He was disappointed that the Black Ministerial Alliance, to which he belongs, wasn't more of a presence as the Legislature began its debate on gay marriage.
"I'm surprised we didn't hold a press conference," he said, calling same-sex marriage "an affront to God."
Hours after he said that, state Senator Dianne Wilkerson of Roxbury, speaking in the constitutional convention, tearfully declared that she could never vote for legislation that relegated a class of citizens to separate-but-equal status.
"I know the pain of being less than equal, and I cannot and will not impose that status on anyone else," she said. "I was but one generation removed from an existence in slavery. I could not in good conscience ever vote to send anyone to that place from which my family fled."
It's sad that the black clergy, such a powerful voice in the civil rights movements, cannot view gay marriage as part of that movement.
Many clergymen claim that same-sex marriage would weaken the family. It's an argument so ludicrous that it's hard to believe they really believe it. Sure, we've all heard the same grim litany of statistics about the effects of absentee parents and broken homes on children, but what does that have to do with whether gays should be allowed to marry?
"When you try to deconstruct marriage, you threaten the one thing the black church has advocated since its inception," said Rev. Jeffrey Brown, pastor of Union Baptist Church in Cambridge.
Brown insisted -- and I have no reason to doubt him -- that most of his parishioners support his opposition to gay marriage.
But he said he has been closely questioned as well. "A small percentage have asked questions," he said. "They want to know that it's not just a knee-jerk position."
The debate over gay marriage is sometimes described as dividing mainstream black ministers from liberals who are their allies on many other issues. But it has also sparked a serious debate within the African-American community itself, one that is both healthy and overdue.
"I think it's extremely healthy," Brown said. "It helps to get at issues that oftentimes we're afraid to talk about."
Accusing the clergy of ducking issues involving homosexuality is nothing new. As the AIDS epidemic began taking its toll, the black clergy, here and elsewhere, was routinely criticized for refusing to take a role in addressing the issue. Eventually, HIV became an issue that couldn't be ignored any longer.
Same-sex marriage has now become that kind of issue.
The internal conflict of many black clergymen is twofold. First, they don't believe Scripture supports same-sex marriage. That's a matter of theological interpretation. But their other, less defensible position is that it isn't a civil rights issue. That's the one they are reluctant to raise publicly.
As one clergyman put it to me this week, "Think about Emmett Till, the Scottsboro Boys, and those police dogs in Birmingham -- and then tell me they've faced what we've faced. This has nothing to do with civil rights." Who he meant by they is obvious.
His comments were heartfelt -- and completely wrongheaded. Yesterday, the black clergy managed to cede the moral high ground to the politicians, several of whom made impassioned pleas for equal rights for same-sex couples, for rejecting the use of the ballot box to settle a question of fundamental rights.
Dickerson and Brown aren't bigots or fools; they're just wrong. They're on the side of inequality, defending the indefensible. Yesterday, on Beacon Hill, Wilkerson and Representative Marie St. Fleur preached. The ministers were occupied betraying their civil rights past.
Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com. 
