When I began my ministry in Auburn in August, 2000, there was a referendum up for vote in November that would add the gay and lesbian community to the Maine Human Rights Act. Never did I imagine that such a referendum would not pass. Never did I suppose that a society would vote not to protect its more vulnerable members from injustice and, in effect, do just the opposite – say that in “their” case, injustice was tolerable, even acceptable.

I, of course, was wrong, and we have all watched as similar sentiment has swept the country. We have seen the most basic rights – rights most of us take for granted, such as the right to work and the right to shelter – labeled “special rights” when applied to the gay and lesbian community. We have seen the U.S. secretary of education say that a lesbian couple didn’t have a place on a children’s show that was teaching tolerance of differences. We have listened as the language used in the debate around gay rights has become more radical and often more hateful.

This downward spiral is disheartening in general. As a member of the clergy, however, I find it especially troubling that religion is so often serving not as a beacon, guiding us toward the great ideals of justice, compassion and mercy, but rather as an excuse to allow us to turn our backs on those in need, or worse, is used as a tool of oppression itself.

As a Unitarian Universalist minister, my faith teaches me that every person has inherent worth and dignity. Such a belief has profound implications for how we live our lives and move in this world. One of those implications is that, at a bare minimum, we create and support a society where none of us can be denied such basic rights as housing or work just because someone does not like or approve of who we are.

This seems such a simple concept, and yet we struggle so with it. Time after time, we choose yet another group whom we deem unworthy of respect, undeserving of mercy or justice. Time after time we must move through the slow, painful process of discovering that we were wrong, that we have sinned in our willingness to hate and oppress, that they, whoever they are this time, are just as deserving of love and life as we are.

How have we not yet learned this lesson? How have we not yet come to understand that every human has worth, that every person has inherent dignity? How many times must we try, and fail, to teach ourselves and our children to treat everyone with justice, equity and compassion? How many groups must we add to the list of the oppressed before we finally come to understand that there is no justification for oppression?

It is time for us to stop self-righteously telling ourselves and each other what is wrong with “them” – this time, the gay and lesbian community – that they are unworthy of the protection afforded by the Maine Human Rights Act, and instead ask ourselves what is wrong with us that they need that protection.

Unfortunately, L.D. 1196 was absolutely necessary. It needed to pass, if only because we as a society are not yet mature enough to see of our own accord that justice is done. For the same reason, we must not allow it to be forced by a people’s veto to a referendum. Safety from oppression should not be dependant upon a vote from those who would be the oppressors. But if it does make it on the ballot, we must fight to keep this protection law.

As the great Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Remembering his call to action, may we all begin to walk the path of justice, compassion and mercy, and may we discover one day that beloved community is ours.

The Rev. Dr. Jodi Cohen Hayashida serves the First Universalist Church in Auburn.

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