Born this way

A sermon about disco and determination.

St. Mark’s in the Bowery, New York City

Note: I had the enormous honor and privilege of preaching at St. Mark’s in the Bowery, NYC, for their Annual PRIDE Disco Mass. What is a ‘Disco Mass’? It’s a Eucharist with Disco Music, a Disco Ball, Dancing and Singing, lots of joy and more fun than is totally necessary and probably passing the legal limit. Not to worry. I’ve checked the canons, which are silent on the matter of fun. And, as long as the liturgy and music are approved by the Diocesan Chief Liturgical Officer (meaning, the Bishop), you’re good to go. I’m going to try to upload some videos I took but you can catch the entire service here. You really don’t want to miss a minute of it - the music was FABULOUS - but if you just want to hear the sermon, you can catch it at around 41.59

Please pray with me: (sung) I was born this way, hey! I was born this way, hey! I’m on the right track, baby, I was born this way, hey! (x2). In the name of God who is Love, who is Lover, who is Beloved. Amen.

Good morning, St. Mark’s! It is wonderful to be here with you on the almost-world world-famous, but not-yet-ready-for-prime-time event known as the Annual PRIDE Sunday Disco Mass.

Weren’t those drums amazing? My Apple Watch went off three times with the notice, “It appears you’ve had a fall. Shall we call 911?”

Mind you, I really had no idea of what I was getting myself into when I said yes. There are no clips of a Disco Mass at St. Mark’s or anywhere on YouTube (I know, I’ve searched). Except for an interview with Jeannine about Disco and a short clip of a recessional to “We Are Family,” the internet is pretty quiet about this Disco Mass.

You know, I have this image of a group of leaders from St. Mark’s sitting around and someone asks, “Hey, who are we going to get to preach for this year’s Disco Mass?” And someone says, “Jeeze, Susan Russell would be great but the airfare from LA is killer. Michael Hopkins is in Upstate NY and probably booked. +Gene Robinson is in DC and he’s probably already booked. +Louie, may he rest in peace and power, is in heaven. Mary Glasspool just retired and Carter preached for her..… Hey . . . wait . . . Does anybody know if Elizabeth Kaeton is still alive?”

Alive and well and ready to disco!

Alright then, let’s get on with it, shall we? Because this is a sermon about Disco and Determination. I think, now, more than ever, we’re going to need both Disco and Determination to get through all of what’s in front of us and what lies ahead of us.

Let me explain: This morning’s lessons are shot through with determination, from the story of Elisha’s determination to stay with Elijah (which we didn’t read this morning but I know you’ll look it up when you get home), to St. Paul calling the Galatians to ‘stand firm’ because we are called to freedom. And, finally, to that amazing image of Jesus, who “set his face to go to Jerusalem”.

Everyone knows what’s ahead of them: Elijah is about to ascend to heaven. St. Paul knew the challenges facing the Galatians to believe that they were freed by adherence to faith in the resurrected Christ, not by obedience to Mosaic law (despite his sad compulsion to form lists of do’s and don’ts and amplify the Levitical Purity Laws. Honestly, sometimes, that man pulls my last, poor, tired, lesbian nerve!!)
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And Jesus, well, he knew what awaited him in Jerusalem. It was the place where he would fulfill his mission, where he would be crucified and resurrected. This journey to Jerusalem was a deliberate and determined act. No time to dilly-dally, as my daddy would say. Jesus said to the man who wanted to bury his parents, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

Scholars believe he and his disciples sang the Hallel Psalms (113-118) during the Passover Meal. Psalm 118 is especially noteworthy because it contains verses about God being the source of strength, song, and salvation, and about not dying but living.

No, they were not set to a disco beat – although I think that could work if someone put their mind to it. But that’s not the point. The point is that music and often dance have always been part of any liberation movement. They provide the inspiration and the strength, and the determination to do what you are being called to do.

Scripture tells us that St. Paul and his disciples sang while they were being held in a jail cell in Philippi. We don’t know if they dance, but the Earth did. There was an earthquake that cracked open the cell, convincing the guards to free them and other prisoners to join the faith.

Jesus said that it only takes faith the size of a mustard seed. Jesus said that a tiny amount of faith can move mountains. I think the songs that come out of faith and determination have that power. Indeed, I think the evidence suggests that Disco is one of the songs of faith and determination that moved mountains.

Moi and the Rev Anne Marie Witchger, the most fabulous rector of St. Mark’s.

Did you know that they tried to kill disco? Yes, children, it’s true. It happened on July 12, 1979. It was called “Disco Demolition Night,” which took place at Chicago’s Comiskey Park during a twi-night double header between the Chicago White Sox and the Detroit Tigers. A promotional stunt organized by DJ Steve Dahl and the White Sox involved blowing up a pile of disco records between games.

Apparently, there is some controversy about whether or not it was an expression of homophobia or racism, but most believe it was both. That’s because disco is a fusion of cultures that came out of the urban nightlife scene of the United States, particularly within African-American, Italian-American, gay, and Latino communities.

Even the musical instruments are a fusion of 4 on the floor rhythm percussion, syncopated basslines, and the use of string sections, horns, electric pianos, synthesizers, and electric rhythm guitars.

Discos – or “The Clubs” – were places where anyone could come and dance. Latino, Italian, Gay men, Lesbian women, Drag Queens, Heterosexual men and women were all on the dance floor. Together.

It became a fusion of musical styles, funk and pop, and R&B. In 1972, when Cameroonian musician Manu Dibango’s 1950s “Soul Makossa” made its way from Africa to the New York club scene, the musical genre of disco became part of something larger than itself.

Soul Makossa, in Cameroonian dialect, means “I will dance.” Some believe this song to be the first popular record of the disco genre. It became the unwritten slogan of all those who were marginalized and oppressed. You may try to stop me from being who I am, but Soul Makossa – I will dance.

Disco became more than just a musical genre; it became a cultural movement, influencing fashion, dance, and social trends. It provided a space for marginalized communities to express themselves and celebrate through music and dance.

Weeeellllll . . . we can’t have that now, can we? This is ‘Murica. The land where, if you want to be free, you’ve got to be brave. And, determined.

They tried to demolish Disco, and the bombing at Cominski Park did have a detrimental effect, but nothing was more devastating than the HIV/AIDS pandemic – to the music, the clubs, and the people who came to them.

AIDS was devastating, but we were determined. I have many memories of those years on the front lines of the pandemic. Those were the Regan years of Food Stamps being cut and the news held scenes of trucks pulling up to City Projects to deliver large, long bricks of what was known as “Uncle Ronnie’s Cheese” and #16 cans of peanut butter. Packets of ketchup on school menus counted as a vegetable. (I kid you not!)

I remember one square on the AIDS Quilt which read, “He did not die of AIDS. He died of bureaucratic red tape.” That was true in many cases. But, we set our faces toward Washington, DC where organizations like The AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power, or ACT-UP, held street theater protests like die-ins in front of pharmaceutical companies and Congress and SCOTUS and the White House.

“Carefully Taught” sung by Anthony Turner & David McCorkle

I was involved in several of those actions, but one memory stands out. We had taken our places in front of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. So had the DC and Capitol police, with large rolls of white plastic-tie hand cuffs in their hands. At the designated time, we were instructed to lie down on the street while others came by and traced our bodies in white chalk. After that, we were free to leave or stay in place for the second stage of the demonstration: Non-violent Civil Disobedience.

We were prepared to have the police pick up our limp bodies and place us in the Paddy Wagon where we would be brought to the Police Station, processed, and jailed until our Bail Hearing. As some demonstrators got up to leave, the Police prepared to move in, but not before making a very big display of snapping on Blue Plastic Gloves.

We knew why they were putting on those gloves – and, why they were making a big deal about it. They were telling us that they assumed we were all AIDS lepers. And, if we weren’t, they most certainly didn’t want to catch our “gay and lesbian cooties”.

You could feel the tension and anger rising from the street. Just when I thought violence might break out, a Radical Fairie (Google it) appeared from out of nowhere. Dressed in a hot pink leotard and a lime green tutu, waving a magic wand over us and wearing a fabulous pair of bright red patten leather kinky boots, she tiptoed and skipped lithely around our bodies, wagging a disappointed finger at the cops while taunting, “They’ll see you on the news, your gloves don’t match your shoes.”

Miraculously, that broke the tension. We started to laugh. Even some of the cops started to laugh. Hear me now: That could not have happened without determination. You don’t laugh in a tense situation like that unless you believe in something larger than yourself. That Radical Fairie believed that a mustard seed of faith can move a mountain. With the wave of her wand, a wag of her finger, and a flounce of her lime green tutu, she moved a mountain of anger and prejudice and fear.

Jeannine Otis, Director of Music, singing “Cabaret”

We’re going to need that kind of determination – the kind that helps us move the mountains of the same dangerous fusion of racism and homophobia that has been built up and is with us today. They tried to demolish Disco once. Today, they are scrubbing government web pages of the history of LGBTQ+ people and people of color. There was no Juneteenth observed at the White House because the POTUS said we had too many federal holidays.

He has also ordered the termination of specialized suicide prevention services for LGBTQ+ youth on the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, effective July 17, 2025. The NIH has cut funding for AIDS research grants. And, what the SCOTUS has done to trans people breaks the very heart of God and makes God weep. Shame on them!

This is the time to have the same determination to be with each other the way Elisha would not leave Elijah. This is the time for us to stand firm in our faith, because we were called to freedom in Christ Jesus – not the old law of rules but the new law of love. This is the time, once again, to set our faces toward Washington, DC, with the same determination Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem.

This is the time to claim our unique and particular and peculiar identities as children of God. Because we know that you can’t have an image of God – Imago DEI – without D.E.I. (Let that sink in,) As Blessed Lady Gaga sings:

You're black, white, beige, cholo descent
You're Lebanese, you're orient
Whether life's disabilities
Left you outcast, bullied, or teased
Rejoice and love yourself today
'Cause baby, you were born this way

In other words, don’t be a drag, just be a queen.

The Recessional: “Can’t stop the feeling” led by Dorian Lake

And you know, it was the queens who started this movement with their defiant response to police harassment. They did a hair toss, checked their nails, stomped their stiletto heel, said, “Oh, yeah, well, soul makossa, baby” - “I Will Dance”.

It was disco that helped us know who we are in all the glorious ways that God made us. And it was determination that brought us through the pandemic.

That, my friends, is called living the Gospel. With determination, standing firm in our faith, we can make it through again, nourished by a Disco Mass, complete with a four on the floor disco beat.

We’ll make it through singing the song written in 1971, two years after Stonewall, by Carl Bean, a Black, gay activist and preacher who recorded it first in 1977. It was revised and rewritten by Lady Gaga in 2011 and became a disco LGBTQ+ anthem.

We’ll make it through, singing at the top of our voices, with this as our psalm:

I was born this way, hey! I was born this way, hey! I’m on the right track, baby, I was born this way, hey! (SING!) I was born this way, hey. I was born this way, hey, I’m on the right track baby, I was born this way, hey!

Somebody give me an ‘Amen’. Amen! Amen!