An insider view of the Mardi Gras march

I count my participation in the 1998 Mardi Gras as a profound life experience, and a great evangelical moment for the church. I have cried both tears of joy and sadness since the march, and hope to convey some of the wonder of this experience to the readers, who will hear my story with open hearts and minds. I am a 43 year old gay man and have been part of the Uniting Church all my life. My parents were from Methodist/Presbyterian backgrounds and I was baptised at Trinity Congregational church in Perth in 1955. Without going too much into my personal story (though I am glad to discuss my experience of being brought up gay in the church with anyone who will hear), suffice it to say that I have found my life a great struggle, both emotionally and spiritually, until I found the strength in God to “come out”, and to accept myself as “God’s good gift”. I am a high achiever, with 4 degrees and 3 graduate diplomas in social science and social work, but all this knowledge counts as nothing compared to, the knowledge of the love of God in Christ.

Those of us who marched in Mardi Gras, struggled for two and a half hours on the night before the march, with a last minute request from the Synod not to march under the UCA logo. It was felt that this might offend members of the church, and it was suggested that it could be detrimental to any on-going dialogue. We decided to march with the logo cut out of the banner, so that the crowd could see our faces - people of the Uniting Church. This decision was not made lightly, as many of us felt that it was an act of rejection by the church, and we were deeply hurt, by not using the symbol with which we identify and which we wore on our T-shirts with pride.

At 9:00pm 140 of us, able bodied, physically impaired, young, old, white, black, straight, gay, lesbian, clergy and laity moved off, behind the black swans of the Western Australian contingent, and next to the Tasmanians, who were celebrating their year of achieving their rights as citizens. Instantly we realised that something profound was about to happen. The onlookers at the marshalling area, and people on the waiting floats began to cheer, and clap wildly. They reached out to touch us and cried out “good on you Uniting Church”. We threw out orange balloons into the crowd which proclaimed the church’s celebration of diversity. And we danced and waved to the crowd to the music I believe in the God that can dance

My tears of sadness are expressed for the groups of Christians who assembled on the first leg of the march, who chanted “No, No No” or “shame” and wagged their fingers at us. Their banners said “Jesus forgive Sydney” and “what next a march for paedophilia”. Their wagging fingers reminded me so much of the attitudes of the Pharisees to the friends of Jesus, and I felt that the Gospel of Grace, was being obscured in a new judgementalism, and a belief in a God who cannot dance and who is no friend of the outcast or the oppressed. I walked over to one of the young chanters and said “God love you my brother” but he just kept chanting his “no’s” and would not look me in the eye. His “no’s” however, were almost drowned out by the people of both sides of the Christians, who continued to wave, clap, and cheer.

We started the move up Oxford Street, continuing to throw balloons to the crowd. I looked out at the sea of faces, connecting with numerous people who were nodding, and some people were shouting “we are with you”. For me, it was a watershed, a coming home, a proclamation of God’s love for all his children, and acceptance without judgement. I thought of my own life experience, and hoped that people living in fear as I once did, would find courage in our witness to stand up and declare themselves as God’s good gift, and that the 750,000 people would hear that the Uniting Church is an inclusive church. The walk all the way up to the Sydney cricket ground was filled with a myriad of grateful faces and hopeful glances - a hope of inclusion, even for the 700,000 people who were not gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender, but who came to experience the freedom and celebration of the Mardi Gras. We were constantly uplifted by the warmth of the crowed.

When we reached the Bobby Goldsmith stand (300 metres) of tiered seating, we were all moved (some of us to tears) when we were given a standing ovation by the thousands of onlookers, with the commentators saying how wonderful it was to find a church which was prepared to accept and affirm the lives and gay and lesbian people. We had hoped to see Rev Dorothy McRae-McMahon in the stand who said that she would stand as we passed by, but we were unable to see her because everyone was standing.

I understand that many members of our church feel affronted by the Mardi Gras, but I think that this is because they cannot see it as a celebration of life. Sure there is a flamboyance, and lots of sexual innuendo, but much of this is tongue in cheek, and an attempt to introduce humour and art into a parade which is predominantly about promoting justice, acceptance and unity in diversity. I feel saddened that the church is so hung up on morality that it cannot celebrate the joy of life. And cannot see that Jesus is there amongst the Mardi Gras revellers declaring that we all belong to the family of God and that we are God’s good creation.

Here are the words of the song that we marched to, I believe in the God that can dance This is my prayer for the Uniting Church.

Desmond Perry

P.S. So let the dialogue begin!

Dr Desmond Perry
LECTURER - National Centre in HIV Social Research
School of Behavioural Sciences
Macquarie University
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA,

see also why Des is marching