I am disheartened by the circumstances surrounding Lisa Howe’s departure from Belmont University.

That any employee, student or church member in our society be required to remain silent about their sexual orientation in exchange for secure employment, academic growth or spiritual support is an intolerable injustice. Unfortunately, this conditional coercion is far too often the norm.

Discrimination presents in many forms, not the least of which is passive silence. We look to our both our academic and religious institutions to engage us, lead us, and inspire us—-not to avoid our deepest needs and concerns out of fear of popular approval. We look to our institutions of higher moral reasoning as we seek knowledge, understanding and advancement as a human race. We must hold sacred the responsibility to confront our fears and biases; with all courage, engage critical thought when approaching long held traditions.

Acceptance of LGBT persons as full and equal community members must begin with a welcome invitation in clearly defined anti-discrimination polices, as well as public accountability to address and act upon any ethos that would diminish the right of any human being.

Belmont, as a gay person of faith, I humbly challenge you to inspire us with your willingness to facilitate safe, open dialogue on matters of faith and sexuality.

In this Advent season, I encourage the Belmont community to boldly embrace the opportunity to act with the human compassion, leadership and abiding love that honors Jesus Christ, the university, and your Nashville neighbors.

Such an endeavor could begin with both an offer for Coach Howe to return to her position and with a sincere apology to all who have been harmed by her dismissal.
Peace—-with justice—demands nothing less.

Yours sincerely,
Jennifer Knapp

Associate Press
Dr. Robert Fisher’s statement
Nashville Scene
Mike Curb, Nashville speaks out

On the weekend of November 12, I was invited to speak at a symposium at Highlands Church in Denver, CO. Rev. Mark Tidd laid forth a daunting request. Would I be willing to speak open and candidly about my experience as a gay person of faith? He’s not the first person to ask. From the moment that others have become aware of my story I have received many requests to comment, admonish, endorse or simply just appear in the on-going, emotionally charged conversation about being gay and Christian. At the same time, I have found much encouragement to simply remain silent. The message seems to be clear: It is ok that I am gay, but it is not acceptable to some that I speak of it.

That being said, it took several long emails and phone calls with Rev. Tidd and the symposium facilitator, novelist, Jonathan Odell, for me to agree to participate in a symposium entitlted “The Evangelical Church & Homosexulality”. They worked hard to convince me that this was a moment of hospitality; an opportunity to release the tension of silence by means of sharing stories. Stories of loss, of joy, compassion and of spiritual growth. Stories not fully written, continually evolving, fragile and potent. Not unlike the stories any of us could relate to, regardless of gender, ethnicity, spiritual traditions, or social class.

Yet the elephant in the room remains, we are talking openly about the experiences of being gay in the church. I find that anytime I write it down (gay) or say it out loud (gay) or talk about the joys of sharing my life with a partner (gay)…there is always someone who comments that they wished that I would not speak.

In the words of a pastor who came out to his church, “Pastor, we all knew you were gay. We’re just made as hell that you told us.”

But here’s the rub. How well do we, or have we ever, responded when assumptions are made about our unique person? When we meet a new friend, join a new group, continue a relationship with another human being, we tell the stories of our lives. We share the narrative of how we grew up, what experiences have shaped us. We confess our sins, our misdeeds, waiting for the other person to make good their escape. We lure them back in with tales of our accomplishments, our victories, our strengths. We secure these bonds by showing our vulnerabilities and willingness for the capacity to love.

Along the way of living we accumulate the joys and sorrows of our individual experience that grow into ‘our story’. We learn by listening to others. We learn in the telling of our own journey. We wound, heal, divide and unite, over and over again.

I cannot avoid it. I have a story. Occasionally, someone asks me to share it in questions like: Where did you grow up? Why do think that? What’s your family like? How did you get that scar? What’s it like being gay?… Every time, the dizzying risks of vulnerability sound their alarm and I am left with a question:

Will I share my story?

Ok, my brain is fried, so for now, I thought I’d write about something a bit on the lighter side of things. I’m not much of a gear junky, but I am picky what I use out on the road. As I’m doing the solo acoustic thing a lot these days, I’m traveling very light. But what I do carry has to earn it’s keep when it comes to carrying it all around on my back like a pack mule.

First and foremost, I’m playing a Taylor 810ce. She always gets the most attention, so I’ll save space for my less acclaimed gear.

I recently added a Taylor T5-C2 to my quiver. It’s a Koa topped hollow body electric that Taylor describes as blurring the line between electric and acoustic guitars. It’s an accurate description. Currently, I’m running it direct, interchanging on the same line as my acoustic set up. Basically, I’m working the vintage, hollow body sound, and getting the front of house to add some reverb. It’s a nice aural change from listening to the acoustic all night.

My gear on the floor is pretty basic. There are tons preamp options out there pitched to acoustic players that promise to deliver the warm tones of the unplugged, natural sound of an acoustic. For years I toured with a Demeter VTDB-2B tube DI. It is amazing, but it’s also a bit pricey, heavy to carry around and needs to be handled with a bit of care (although mine took a pounding and seems to have survived!) That’s where the LR Baggs Para DI comes to the rescue. It’s no accident that just about every performing acoustic artist has had one of these in their gig bag for better than a decade. It performs exactly as promised, it’s affordable and always reliable. It has saved my bacon on more than one occasion from feedback & EQ nightmares.

Of course, good tone is pointless if you’re not in tune, so before my guitar hits the DI, I run it through my Boss TU-3 Tuner pedal. The TU-3 is a very accurate chromatic tuner, which makes it versatile for alternate tunings. It also mutes while tuning which is handy.

Now that it looks like the T5 is going to stay on the road with me, I need to get a dedicated line for it, which means carrying a little more gear. So I’ve just ordered an LR Baggs Venue DI. It’s basically the same specs as the Para, just updated a bit and has a chromatic tuner built in for good measure.

Last, but certainly not least, are my Mono cases. The M80 series of guitar gig bags are without rival. They are durable, water resistant and not to mention… sexy! I feel like a rock star with these bags strapped to my back. Oh, and did I mention it is the best protection I’ve ever seen in a soft case? As airlines have started charging for every checked bag, I try to carry on all that I can. (This tactic also avoids the lost luggage dilemma when I’m traveling the same day as a show!)

Sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest difference. With a different stage every night, bringing some of my own gear is one of the easiest things to help me feel at home.