Listen to this chapter:

“There’s a Land That Is Fairer Than Day”

Here I am at Martha & Bros. Coffee for what is probably the last time. It disappointed me that there was no fresh-squeezed pink grapefruit juice this morning, but the fresh-pressed carrot juice is delicious—so much better than the bottled Odwalla.

Even though I haven’t been here since June, it’s all so familiar—the loud group of women who come here on Saturday mornings after their yoga class at “Mindful Body” down the block, the Latina women behind the counter busily making coffee drinks and toasting bagels.

It was here that Lina and I first got to know Marsha Power, the Adventist lesbian from South Bay, when she drove all the way up to SF Central to hear Dan Brendel in November 2000. So much has happened since then; so much has changed, so subtly, so insidiously.

But, for now, I relax for my last few moments in Martha & Bros., swallowed up in the comfort of the plush red vinyl sofa as I finish a chapter in Stuart Tyner’s Searching for the God of Grace.

Today I also had my last breakfast at Crepe ‘n’ Coffee across the street. I splurged and ordered a strawberry Nutella crepe, which was delivered to my table drizzled with chocolate sauce on the whipped cream and on the plate, like they do in fancy restaurants. My small coffee came in a red mug—usually I get a white or black mug—almost as if my last breakfast were meant to be a festive one. And they cooked the five thin slices of gourmet bacon to perfection, hot and sizzling on the plate. And then, as I have been doing for four years, I sequestered myself alone with God, talked to Him in my mind, and “listened” to His message through Rob’s sermon manuscript, the third in a series of “40 Days of Love.”

When I arrived at Crepe ‘n’ Coffee, the place had been totally empty except for the nerd in the corner window table and the gay male Hispanic couple, who waved and said “Good Morning!” to me as they left. It was probably the last time I would ever see them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Now I’m here in the choir room at SF Central, rehearsing with the choir before the church service. On the surface, nothing seems different—Marlena making her silly jokes, the altos asking for a part to be played, Alex with his stole on the wrong side. But we went through “Softly and Tenderly” for the before-prayer song and “There’s a Land That Is Fairer than Day” for special music. I am here today for God, for Lina, and for myself—not for the church….

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I went directly to the piano side of the balcony to wait for the service to begin. I could see most of the congregation below from that vantage point. Once I saw Gilbert in the congregation and waved and smiled at him. I did not play the piano with the hymns, but Lina already knew about that. On the third song of the Musical Praise Time, Lina spoke from the organ, without a microphone. She referred to the song, “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder, I’ll Be There.” She told the congregation she intends to “be there” and that she hopes they will be, too. There were some “Amens.”

The time came for the choir to sing, even though there were only three men and six women. I played well—not spectacularly, but well.

Before the second anthem, I watched as Lina got the cordless mike from Mark. She arranged her music on the music stand and then she turned to face the congregation, mike in hand, knowing it would be the last time she would ever do so. The congregation was deathly silent. Mark stood motionless, emotionless, not knowing what to expect. Lina spoke. She spoke a little too softly, I thought—at least for her—but her voice was clear. She talked about the song, how she was born into Adventism, and how all her life she has looked forward to heaven and the Second Coming of Christ. Then what she said went something like this:

“Today is my last Sabbath at Central. Because of some policy changes, I can no longer play the organ or direct the choirs.” She was much too gracious, in my opinion! But what she said placed the “blame” on an action (“policy changes”) rather than on persons (the Nominating Committee).

Then she turned toward the choir and directed them in a beautiful performance of “There’s a Land That Is Fairer than Day.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

During Mark’s sermon, titled “Mount Sinai,” I took some notes. I wrote down four statements that he made:

“There’s a work for you to do if you want to be sanctified.”

“Do what God has given you the ability to do, and God will do the rest.”

The next two he said sarcastically, when he was talking about the children of Israel:

“God could have had their guardian angels appear and give them all a hug.”

“God could have rained rose petals on them and they would have felt so loved.”

He also spoke of “transforming grace” which I have believed to be a Catholic concept.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For the postlude, Lina played another of her fantastic arrangements of a familiar hymn, this one being “Lift Up the Trumpet.” As the last strains were fading into the air, I watched as Helen Wong was pushing Dr. Wong in his wheelchair through the rear doors of the sanctuary. Dr. Chester Wong, who fought so hard to reinstate Steve Gungl as organist at Central in the ’90s, after he had been “kicked out” of Central decades earlier for simply being gay, was now, with head bowed in unaware senility, mercifully ignorant of all that was going on at SF Central in 2008.

After the postlude had ended, there was loud applause from the balcony. I turned to see that it was new convert Jorge Castañeda who has admired Lina from the beginning.

After church, not surprisingly, there was a line of people waiting to talk to Lina. Actually, all of them crowded around her behind the organ so that, mercifully, she only had to say things once and they all heard her. To these people, as to the individuals who approached her last week, she told them the simple truth: “Because I am gay and have a partner, the Nominating Committee has voted that I will no longer be allowed to play the organ here or direct the choir and handbells.” This week she added that the only way that she, as a gay person, would have been allowed to continue her service to SF Central would have been to break up her family of 14 years. And that simply is not an option!

It amazes me that some of the “good brethren” actually think she should break up her family in order to continue in her service to SF Central! And they told her so to her face. Essentially, the Church, instead of protecting marriage and family for all, is promoting the breakup of marriage and family for gay people.

Michael Buffington came up, and we hugged. I asked him about his girls and told him to “keep in touch.” He said something about he would miss us, and I told him, “It’s not the same church that Lina and I came to in 1992 and 1996. We miss that church.”

Bob Evans came to hug me and asked me if I would still be attending Central. I said no. Despite his outspoken homophobia toward the public school’s teaching about homosexuality to his wife’s teenage niece, Bob seems to like Lina and me personally. I will always remember Bob in the role of the angel at the tomb in the Easter performance of the Messiah in 2007. I think about how frustrating it must be for a homophobic straight person to suddenly find out that someone they’ve gotten to know and respect is really gay.

Patricia Ferrell approached me as, undoubtedly, she felt it was her duty to do as pastor’s wife. She said something about hoping we would continue to attend Central. I shook my head. “We just can’t attend here. I just don’t feel God’s love here.”

“Oh, I do!” she crooned.

“Well, I’m glad you do,” I said, “and I’m glad you’re here at Central. You’re a real asset to this church.”

“You are always welcome here.” She smiled her pastor’s-wife smile.

“No, I’m not really welcome here,” I objected. “It is too toxic for me here.”

She said something about how God loves everybody. “Yes, He does,” I agreed, “God loves even the toxic people.”

“Well,” she said, “I don’t think God thinks of people as ‘toxic’.”

“Let’s put it this way,” I said. “God loves even the people who are toxic to me.”

“God loves everybody,” she repeated, “but He doesn’t love ‘the sin’.”

Well, we all know what “the sin” is, don’t we?! I just stared at her, not knowing what to say and not wanting to say anything I would later regret. And she just glared back at me.

Clearly, she is no longer Dr. Patricia Yoon, the eye doctor, but Mrs. Mark Ferrell, in every sense of the word.

When Gilbert came up to hug me, I could sense the unspilled tears in his voice. Neither of us spoke about what Gilbert was going to do now. He isn’t an Adventist church member—and may never be—but he continues to attend Sabbath school and church at Central in his deep spiritual hunger and thirst. He so wants to serve God at SF Central, but knows he would never be allowed. He said something about feeling “unworthy.”

On impulse, I reached into my bag and pulled out my printed copy of Rob’s sermon and gave it to him, admonishing Gilbert to never feel unworthy for any reason. I said to him, “Repeat after me, ‘I, Gilbert, am infinitely valuable to God.’”

We hugged for a long moment and cried on each other’s shoulder. “Of all the people at Central,” I told him, “I will miss you the most!” And I meant it.

When everyone had gone, Lina and I gathered up the last of our belongings—the Allen sound module on the organ, the Velcro strips left in the choir room, the Swiffer dusters we had kept in the organ bench, and miscellaneous sheets of music scattered here and there. I found a plastic bag to put everything in, and we headed downstairs. On our way there, fourth-grader Rachelle came running up to Lina asking if we were going to have handbell rehearsal today.

“Not today,” Lina answered, her voice quivering. “In fact, we may never have another handbell practice!”

Rachelle was stunned. “Why?!?”

“You will have to ask your mother to explain it,” Lina told her, then turned away quickly so Rachelle would not see the tears that were about to fall from her swollen eyes.

We stopped in the fellowship hall—Loughborough Center—only long enough for Lina to give her keys back to Betty—the keys that she has carried for the past 16 years. In the few moments that Lina left my side to find Betty, Michael, the Russian, managed to find me and flirt with me, not knowing it would be the last time. I smiled sweetly and laughed at his jokes, knowing it would be the last time I would ever have to do that!

As we were driving out of the parking lot for the last time, attorney Steve Booska approached us to give us words of encouragement and affirmation. Lina and I have so appreciated getting to know Steve and his Buddhist wife Amanda and their two adorable children over the past few years. They, more than anyone else we know at Central, would appreciate—and read—a copy of Christianity and Homosexuality: Some Seventh-day Adventist Perspectives, which we will definitely provide to them. Steve especially praised Lina for being so “classy” in her farewell remarks, stating that her classiness only made the rest of “them” look stupid.

Lina and I deserved a good meal at Pier 29 in Alameda. On impulse, I had a glass of chardonnay with the snapper in lemon butter caper sauce. We watched the yachts of the wealthy bobbing gently on their tethers in the marina. Then, emotionally and physically exhausted, we went home and collapsed into a most welcome Sabbath afternoon nap.