Telling the impact someone had on your journey is never as meaningful to the reader as it is to the author. Understanding that, I'll do my best. I first met Bishop Michael Carter; known to the â┚¬Å”childrenâ┚¬Â as Carter, in 2008. For years a friend had tried to connect us and finally, when Carter was passing through the Bay Area the same weekend I was conducting a talent night at the church I was attending, we met. He agreed to come during the festivities and arrived with his entourage. I invited Carter to the microphone. To say that â┚¬Å”talent nightâ┚¬Â quickly turned into a church service would be putting it lightly. He was immediately invited to preach the next morning.
Afterwards, friends and I, along with Carter and â┚¬Å”the gangâ┚¬Â all went to Ybor. He recounted his tale to me and won my affection forever. In one night, this 75 year old man became my confidant and the only spiritual father I have ever known.
We talked until morning and compared our lives. With the obvious span between our ages we still saw how our journey was so similar. His ability to speak into me, rather than at me, was as though he was pulling out wounded segments of my life and holding them until the pain subsided. Then he gave them back to me whole. The spiritual exchange was reciprocal.
That night he spoke of his son. He adored his son the way a father is supposed to. When his son was just a teen, Carter was a church planter for a church organization. He would travel the country, start a church, grow its size, move to the next area, and begin again. Upon returning from an assignment he found out his organization discovered his son was gay. They demanded that Carter disown his own son. He said he had never agonized over anything in his life as he did the decision to send his son away. He privately promised his son he would send him money until he found a way to see him again.
Days later his son was dead. For years following his son's suicide, Carter wanted to die, too. That's when he explained â┚¬Å”the gangâ┚¬Â that traveled with him was his attempt to make sure no one would ever again commit suicide on his watch.
After our introduction weekend, Carter returned home and came out of his own closet. He picked up the phone and called everyone he could find from his past, came out to them, and apologized for hypocrisy. Immediately afterwards his organization cut off his pension and left him penniless. However, doors quickly opened for full-time ministry in the LGBT affirming churches.
Every time we spoke it seemed we never ended our original conversation. We became each other's ministerial sounding boards. I was able to introduce him to two national LGBT religious organizations. I saw people clamoring for his attention. I saw experienced pastors grow jealous of his accomplishments. And what was most incredible to me, I saw people's lives change just by knowing him.
Just after his 76th birthday, we both attended a regional conference for the â┚¬Å”Fellowship of Affirming Ministriesâ┚¬Â in North Carolina. The last day of the conference, my husband and I were able to go out to eat with him and â┚¬Å”the gang.â┚¬Â He took me by the hand and we went outside. When Carter spoke to me, he spoke about my presentâ┚¬â€Âwhat was happening in the now. This time he spoke to my future. He mapped out what he felt was going to happen next in my life.
A month later, I awoke one morning and checked my voicemail. I heard Carter's partner trying to speak through weeping. The first few words were enough to know that my friend was gone. I won't bore you with my grief. If you've lost a friend you know.
This month is the first anniversary of his death, and his words are just as alive to me as they were then. His innumerable stories are thriving in me. His impact on me, never matched before our acquaintance and not yet surpassed, has given me strength to journey forward. He was the grandfather everybody wants, the pastor everybody deserves, and the friend everybody needs.
From his life, I could tell you that it's never too late to live authentically, and I hope you get that message. I could tell you that you, too, can make a difference in your world, like Carter made in mine. I could tell that his life is one of the very few I knew that can be an example of never giving up, never giving in, and perseverance of life's obstacles. All those things would be true, and I hope you're inspired.
But mostly I just wanted to introduce you to my friend, Bishop Michael Carte. May he rest in peace.
