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From the BBC:
The Reverend Fred Phelps Sr, founder of the Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas, died on Wednesday evening at 84.
The church, made up mostly of his family, rose to international notoriety with its practice of picketing funerals of fallen US troops. It claimed their deaths were punishment for America's tolerance of gay people. Their signs read "Thank God for dead soldiers" and "Thank God for 9/11" and the like, and bore messages offensive to gay and lesbian people.
Born in Mississippi in 1929, Mr Phelps was raised a Methodist and was selected to attend the US Military Academy. He was ordained a Baptist minister, though Westboro was not attached to any mainstream denomination.
Mr Phelps earned a law degree from Washburn University in 1964, but was stripped of his licence to practise in Kansas in 1979. The Kansas Supreme Court said Mr Phelps made false statements in documents and "showed little regard" for professional ethics.
I only met Fred Phelps once. It was in 1998. Phelps and members of his "congregation" (family members) had come to Chicago to protest at the Broadway United Methodist Church.
Born in Mississippi in 1929, Mr Phelps was raised a Methodist and was selected to attend the US Military Academy. He was ordained a Baptist minister, though Westboro was not attached to any mainstream denomination.
Mr Phelps earned a law degree from Washburn University in 1964, but was stripped of his licence to practise in Kansas in 1979. The Kansas Supreme Court said Mr Phelps made false statements in documents and "showed little regard" for professional ethics.
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The church on Chicago's North side, is located in the Lakeview neighborhood, which is known as the center of Chicago's LGBT community. Phelps targeted the church in response to news that the Pastor, Greg Dell performed a service of Holy Union for two men in his congregation that September.
In response, members of many of the surrounding churches in the neighborhood, including Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, where I was member; turned out and formed a human "ring of love" that moved in a circle around the entire building, effectively cutting the Phelps clan off from access to the church or anyone attending that Sunday's services.
Purely by chance I found myself standing in a position in the ring, directly opposite Phelps for about ten minutes. While he screamed right into my face of how much God hated me, how much I was to blame for all the evils befalling America, how I was "most assuredly" going to die from AIDS and would burn forever in hell.
Then the ring started to move again, I smiled and said ; "Nice to meet you Mr. Phelps, thank you for your time." (I made a point of not calling him "reverend" hoping that would offend him,) and moved away hearing Phelps still ranting off into the distance.
Then the ring started to move again, I smiled and said ; "Nice to meet you Mr. Phelps, thank you for your time." (I made a point of not calling him "reverend" hoping that would offend him,) and moved away hearing Phelps still ranting off into the distance.
For a good part of the rest of that day I felt pretty good, and rather proud of myself. In my brief interactions with the infamous Fred Phelps, I kept my cool , didn't take the bait and try to argue with him, or get angry and rant back how he was the one who was behaving in ways that God would find offensive. I was polite, cheerful and confident.
I had only weeks before, come out to my own family. As I walked the few short blocks back up Broadway to my apartment, I felt flush with my new-found courage and pride as an out Gay Man. I would even go as far as to say I was feeling slightly superior, maybe even a little smug.
I had only weeks before, come out to my own family. As I walked the few short blocks back up Broadway to my apartment, I felt flush with my new-found courage and pride as an out Gay Man. I would even go as far as to say I was feeling slightly superior, maybe even a little smug.
Yet as the day went on, I found myself getting angrier and angrier. I started wishing I had yelled back at Phelps. I regretted not calling him out as a sad bitter, twisted evil pathetic waste of a human life. I so wished that I had told him that the God I know bears no resemblance to the one he claimed to speak for. That God was going to send HIM to hell for his horrific protest at the funeral of Matthew Shepard, only weeks before.
I stood looking out at the skyline of Chicago through my living room window seething at the lost opportunity. While glorious images of myself raging at Phelps in righteous indignation while he cowered behind a trash can, flooded my mind.
I stood looking out at the skyline of Chicago through my living room window seething at the lost opportunity. While glorious images of myself raging at Phelps in righteous indignation while he cowered behind a trash can, flooded my mind.
Then I realized, in that moment, by letting myself get so angry, I was letting Phelps win.
I sat down, opened a can cherry coke, and took a deep breath. As I calmed down, I knew that Fred Phelps was not someone to be hated, this was a man to be pitied. As I thought about that, all that anger faded away as quickly as it had come. After that day I really didn't give Phelps or his Westboro Baptist clan much thought. Aside from a passing item in the news about Phelps' despicable protests at the funerals of dead American service personnel, Fred Phelps, like the anger I felt that day, faded from my memory. Until this week.
A number of people have emailed me, asking if I was happy to hear of Phelp's death. Or did I feel that the LGBT community should picket his funeral and subject the Phelps family to same sort of torment and disrespect that he inflicted on so many other families over the years. As tempting as it is to say yes to that, cathartic even. The answer is, and must be... No.
The fact is, we all owe Fred Phelps a tremendous debt. His irrational hatred of others provided the greatest argument in favor of LGBT equality that anyone could have ever wished for. His vile rants and heartless acts of disrespect for people different than him, did more to advance the cause of diversity and equality than any court ruling or protest march ever could.
The brilliant, and chilling HBO original movie "Conspiracy", depicts the actual events at the Wansee Conference outside Berlin. Where officials of Hitler's Third Reich planned what history would come to know as the Holocaust. In one of the final scenes, Nazi SS General Reinhard Heydrich, shares a story that one of the other participants at the meeting told him about the dangers of allowing hatred of one group of people to consume your life.
Fred Phelps' true legacy is that he was, a one-man Gay Pride Parade.
So ...it was nice to meet you Mr. Phelps, thank you for your time.
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