
In loving memory of James “Fred” David Harris Jr.
November 29, 1961 – August 1, 1988
Scripture
“My brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with respect of persons.”
— James 2:1
We are all sinners.
“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).
That truth should humble us. It should remind us that every one of us stands in need of God’s grace. Yet too often, organized religion has treated sin like a spotlight—pointing it toward certain lives while allowing the rest of us to remain comfortably in the shadows.
For me, that hypocrisy became impossible to ignore.
When I moved to Florida, I began looking for a church. Some of my family attended a particular one, so I visited at Christmas. I liked the service. I went home hopeful and looked at the church’s website.
There I found a declaration that marriage is only between a man and a woman.
This devotional is not an attempt to settle the theological debate over homosexuality. My personal opinion does not determine what is or is not sin. The Bible—not politics, culture, personal preference, or fear—must guide every Christian’s beliefs.
But this is not about that debate.
This is about exclusion.
Pastors and churches will hold certain views about marriage. But why must gay and lesbian people face this particular declaration before they ever enter the church? Why is this issue so often placed near the doorway while pride, greed, gossip, cruelty, dishonesty, adultery, unforgiveness, and neglect of the poor rarely receive the same prominent treatment?
When one group is singled out, what do they hear?
Do they hear, “Come and meet Jesus”?
Or do they hear, “Before we know your name or your story, you need to know what we think about you”?
The Bible tells us plainly that we have all sinned. It warns us against partiality. Jesus commands us to love one another. None of those instructions changes according to who is standing before us.
My best friend was once my high school boyfriend. His name was James David Harris Jr., but we called him Fred.
In 1983, Fred trusted me enough to tell me he was gay. Five years later, on August 1, 1988, he died from complications resulting from a hate crime.
I still miss him.
And the least interesting thing about Fred was that he was gay.
He was a whole human being. He was my friend. He was someone I loved. I saw within him the fruit that should mark a Spirit-led life: love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and self-control.
Those qualities were not erased by the label others placed upon him. They were evident in the way he lived, the character he showed, and the kindness he left behind.
When I remember Fred, I do not remember an issue to be debated.
I remember my friend.
Perhaps that is what the church too often forgets. Gay and lesbian people are not political talking points or theological problems. They are made in the image of God. They are somebody’s child, sibling, parent, neighbor, or best friend. They carry stories, gifts, wounds, hopes, and the same need for grace shared by us all.
We may not agree on every interpretation of the Bible. But God’s Word leaves no room for hatred, cruelty, pride, or partiality.
Jesus said that others would recognize His disciples by their love for one another. He ate with those whom religious society rejected. When questioned about it, He answered, “They that are whole have no need of the physician, but they that are sick” (Mark 2:17).
They had to be allowed near Jesus before their lives could be changed by Jesus.
This is not about demanding that Christians abandon deeply held beliefs. It is about examining what those beliefs produce in us.
Do they produce humility or superiority? Compassion or condemnation? Open arms or guarded doors? Do they bear the fruit of the Spirit, or do they give us permission to treat another human being as an enemy?
I did not leave organized religion because I stopped loving Jesus. I left because I could no longer reconcile His welcome with religious practices that seem to warn certain groups before they ever reach the door.
Fred deserved more than the hatred that wounded him. He deserved to be seen in the fullness of who he was.
Everyone does.
May the church become a place where the compassion of Christ reaches hearts before our opinions do. May we remember that we do not own God’s grace, and we were never appointed to decide who is worthy of receiving it.
Thought for the Day
This is not about settling the theological debate over homosexuality. It is about remembering that exclusion, partiality, hypocrisy, and hatred cannot be the fruit of a church that follows Jesus. Whatever beliefs we hold, we are commanded to carry them with humility and love.
Let Us Pray
Lord, forgive us for placing the lives of others under a spotlight while hiding our own need for grace.
Teach us to see each soul as You do—not as a label, issue, or argument, but as someone created in Your image.
Remove pride, hypocrisy, cruelty, and partiality from our hearts. Keep our beliefs rooted in Your Word rather than politics, fear, or the desire to condemn. Teach us to speak truth with humility, remembering that truth without love does not reflect the heart of Jesus.
Help Your church become a place where the wounded find safety, the lonely find fellowship, and the rejected are met with compassion. May our lives bear the fruit of Your Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and self-control.
Today, I thank You for the life of James “Fred” David Harris Jr. Thank You for the goodness he carried, the friendship he gave, and the memories that remain. May his life remind us never to reduce anyone to a label or a single part of their story.
Make us kinder, Lord. Make us humbler. Make us more like Jesus.
Amen.
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