Rev. Danny Fisher

In some ways, I’m very organized. In other ways, not so much. Somehow, I consisently drop the ball on writing blog posts in time for certain important events. Last month was a new low in this respect: I missed both Pastoral Care Week and, perhaps more importantly, G.L.B.T. History Month.

If it’s possible, I’d like to make up for that latter error now with a special post about the traditional October observance.

First, here’s what the G.L.B.T. History Month website says about the event:

In 1994, Rodney Wilson, a Missouri high school teacher, believed a month should be dedicated to the celebration and teaching of G.L.B.T. history, and gathered together other teachers and community leaders. They selected October because public schools are in session and existing traditions, such as Coming Out Day (October 11), occur then.

G.L.B.T. History Month was endorsed by G.L.A.A.D., HRC, the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, and other national organizations. Oregon Governor John Kitzhaber declared October 1995 to be Lesbian and Gay History Month; and in July 1995, the National Education Association voted to support the concept. In 1996, the governors of Massachusetts and Connecticut and the mayors of Boston and Chicago also proclaimed October G.L.B.T. History Month.

In 2006, Equality Forum’s Board of Directors and National Board of Governors voted unanimously to coordinate G.L.B.T. History Month, modeling it on Black History Month and Women’s History Month.

For the last couple of years, the Equality Forum has identified thirty-one G.L.B.T. icons for each of the thirty-one days of October. This year, those icons include everyone from Leonardo da Vinci to Gertrude Stein to Florence Nightingale to Cary Grant.

Today, though, in recognition of G.L.B.T. History Month, I’d like to reflect on one of last year‘s icons: Fr. Mychal Judge.

(Regular readers of this blog might remember two past posts–this one and this one–about Glenn Holsten’s wonderful Judge documentary Saint of 9/11.)

Fr. Mychal Judge was the gay Franciscan monk and New York City Fire Department chaplain who became the first officially recorded victim of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center. Fr. Judge refused Mayor Rudy Giuliani’s personal request to leave “Ground Zero” with him, saying that he had to remain with the firefighters and those being evacuated from the towers. His selfless act of heroism–offering his empathetic, prayful presence to those who could not be saved and those who tried against all odds to save them–was immortalized when Reuters photographer Shannon Stapleton captured the image of an anguished group of firefighters carrying Fr. Judge’s body away from the wreckage of the towers. (That photograph is just above and to the right.) The picture is known today as “American Pietà” because of its striking resemblance to Michelangelo’s Pietà, a sculpture that depicts the lifeless body of Jesus held by his mother Mary.

Before the events of September 11, 2001, Fr. Judge had distinguished himself in his service to addicts, the homeless, AIDS patients, students, and the gay Catholic community. By all accounts, he was indeed a saint.

I am proud to share the same job title as Fr. Judge. In the same way that so many other members of the G.L.B.T. community have left lasting impressions on their respective fields, he is an example for all of us who serve as chaplains in his absence.

In honor of G.L.B.T. History Month, I encourage you to learn more about Fr. Judge and some of our other G.L.B.T. sisters and brothers. You can start here.

The New York Times recently ran a pair of articles about Emory University and my graduate alma mater Naropa University, respectively. The first piece talks about the wholly unique Emory-Tibet Partnership, which includes His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s recent appointment as a professor at the distinguished university. (He is the third Nobel Peace laureate to join the faculty, after Archbishop Desmond Tutu and President Jimmy Carter.) The second article, about Naropa, mainly touches on the university’s commitment to contemplative education.

Contemplative education has defined this Boulder, Colo., college since it began life as the Naropa Institute in 1974. That summer, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche–a Tibetan Buddhist teacher who made his way to the United States by way of Oxford–founded the institute to integrate Eastern and Western studies. He invited artists from all over the country; the artists invited their buddies, and the gathering ended up with a head count of 2,500. Many of the participants decided to stay in Boulder, including the poet Allen Ginsberg. He was co-founder of Naropa’s writing program, the elegiacally named Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics, later that year.

The college has gone through transformations since then. It was awarded top-level accreditation in 1986. It now charges $20,738 in tuition and has a student body of 1,083, in three locations. The original campus, in downtown Boulder, is a shady green square where students–some barefoot, some dreadlocked, many proudly scruffy–attend classes in a cluster of buildings that includes wooden clapboard cottages. Two campuses sit on the outskirts of town in office-park-like settings, slightly mitigated by prayer flags rippling in the breeze and students meditating on the front lawns.

One thing has never changed, though: the emphasis on contemplation. In addition to fulfilling the traditional requirements of a major, students participate in Eastern practices like yoga, sitting meditation, Japanese flower arrangement, tai chi, Chinese brush painting and aikido.

Anyway, they’re both good articles about very special educational opportunities. Take a look.