odd man out.

It’s finally time for me to announce something exciting that’s been in the works for a few months: I will be spending my summer in Chicago working as an intern with The Marin Foundation.

I’ve long admired the work of The Marin Foundation, and I’ve begun emulating their approach on this blog and within my corner of the world, but I genuinely never thought I would have the opportunity to partner with them directly.  I feel delighted and anxious for summer to arrive.  There is no limit to what I can learn from a group I consider to be the trailblazers of building bridges between the church and the LGBT community in our world.

The organization is still putting together summer assignments for the other interns and me, so I’m hesitant to say too much about what I may be doing.  One of the possibilities would involve doing some research with children and youth who are wrestling with issues of sexuality and identity (especially those who are homeless—statistics about LGBT youth and homelessness are shocking) to determine their specific needs.  I may also work with parents of LGBT children, learning what sort of support and resources would be helpful for families.  I’ll likely participate in many of The Marin Foundation’s other ongoing projects, such as their Living in the Tension gatherings as well as the sort of unglamorous work that keeps NGOs running.  It goes without saying that I will record my summer adventures on this blog, as I imagine there will be no shortage of material for reflection.  I cannot wait to see how my meager gifts will find expression with The Marin Foundation.

Nevertheless—and you probably suspected I was headed here—I need your help.  My unashamed confidence in requesting your partnership comes from a combination of my genuine conviction about the immeasurable worth of The Marin Foundation and my impression of the hearts of the sort of people who frequent this blog.  I simply cannot overstate how grateful I am for the work of The Marin Foundation—this is surely an example of Buechner’s belief: “The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”  And the comments I have received regarding this blog have shown me there is a growing population of people on every side of the issues who want to navigate the interaction between faith and sexuality with grace, nuance, and faithfulness.  For these reasons, I have three requests:

First, will those of you who pray consider supporting me with prayer?  I’m not listing this first to soften the blow of my next paragraph, which will ask for money; I’m listing this first because arranging my financial situation for the summer is much, much less important than eagerly requesting God’s prevenient intervention for everything that will occur this summer.  Pray specifically that God would prepare me and the other interns for the summer, that he would arrange the sort of meetings and conversations that need to happen in Chicago, and that he would open the hearts of people to attend to the needs of LGBT youth.  I’m blessed to have a close friend working with me this summer and a few other possible connections, but I’m still aware I’ll be immersing myself in an otherwise foreign place.

Second, will you consider helping me financially?  The Marin Foundation is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization, and my internship thus involves no monetary compensation.  If you do have the means and feel so inclined/moved/called (and I provide each of those words not to diminish any of them to but simply to make room for different perceptions), I would be happy to share more specific information with you through email about my budget for the summer.  Essentially, I need to cover the costs of travel to/from Chicago and my living expenses for about three months, which, though certainly not prohibitive, are beyond my current means as a full-time student.  Every single dollar really will help.  If you see value in this opportunity and have any amount of money to share, would you consider giving of your finances on my behalf or connecting me with those who could?

If you do choose to donate, the process is remarkably simple, and your donation will be tax-deductible.  All you need to do is head over to The Marin Foundation’s donation page, fill out the form for a one-time donation, and make sure to select “I’d like to make this donation on behalf of” and enter “Brent Bailey.”

[EDIT: Evidently there’s some confusion about how to make sure a donation will go towards my expenses this summer.  As long as you mark “In behalf of” and enter my name on that online form, your donation will find its way to me.]

Third, will you consider joining in on this work?  My primary desire for this internship is that it would equip me (and, by association, those around me) to be more effective for the same kind of work in places that are not Chicago.  I genuinely believe the work of The Marin Foundation is radically important and intrinsically tied to the reign of God’s kingdom, but I do not believe The Marin Foundation is doing anything we cannot replicate elsewhere.  We build bridges when we listen to each other, when we repent of hatred and fear, and when we allow the love of Christ to motivate our actions.  If you like what The Marin Foundation is doing, would you consider emulating their approach within your own circle of influence?  And could we share with each other the wisdom we acquire?  Perhaps you will have better stories of what you’ve seen than I will after I return from Chicago.

Contemplating this internship makes me feel immensely grateful and blessed, so I will take this opportunity to express my appreciation for everyone who has provided support and encouragement along my journey of being Christian and gay.  In many ways, accepting this internship simultaneously felt like the culmination of one story and the initiation of another, but both of these stories are, of course, mere footnotes in the grand narrative God is composing through history.  “In eternity this world will be Troy, I believe, and all that has passed here will be the epic of the universe, the ballad they sing in the streets,” writes Marilynne Robinson in Gilead, and I want to find my place in that tale.