Friday, November 27, 2009
The Rev. Grant M. Gallup, R. I. P
From Louie Crew at his Natter blog and the House of Bishops/Deputies Listserv:
A friend just called to say that Grant Gallup+ died last night. No details are known yet. He was a charter member of Integrity's first chapter, in Chicago, and served as chaplain to that chapter. For several years in the 70s and 80s he edited Integrity Forum. For many years he was vicar of St. Andrew's on the near Westside of Chicago, and since about 1988 he has been a missioner in Managua, Nicaragua, where he founded Casa Maria.
Grant wrote frequently for The Witness and other progressive journals.
In 1976 he was president of the Episcopal liturgists association.
His liturgical reflections -- at Homily Grits (2000-2007) remains very popular.
He was known affectionately by his close friends as Sister Mary Rattle Beads, and rattle them he did. He was one of the first out priests in the USA, speaking on the Studs Terkel radio program.
I remember asking Grant how those at St. Andrew's were dealing with his openness. "The same way I deal with theirs." When someone's son was arrested for using crack, Grant was there to help the family cope. When someone needed groceries to make it to the end of the month, Grant was there for them. His larder was never empty. On some days half the block seemed to show up in his dining room for a meal. He had the gift of endless, joyful hospitality. He kept polished the silverware
Few people have influenced me as much as Grant. I loved him dearly. He taught me much about justice and about courage. He was a strong friend when I had few. He constantly pointed me to gospel imperatives. He eschewed pettiness.
For example; When we lived in Fort Valley, Georgia, Ernest was a hairdresser, and in our tiny apartment did the hair of some of the poorest women in Peach County. One of them called me down from my study to tell me that Dr. XXXXX, senior warden at my parish, was about to become a father again by his mistress. A couple of years before, Dr. XXXXX had collected vestry signatures for a petition asking me to "find some other place of worship more in sympathy with your concerns about gay people."
I called Mary Rattlebeads. "Shall I send Dr. XXXXX a Father's Day card?" I asked.
"You will do no such thing! A new life is coming into the world. If you say anything at all, you might call the mother and offer to sponsor the child at baptism, but only if you are prepared to meet the obligations of doing so. This is no time for pettiness!"
In the winter of 1978 when I was visiting him in Chicago, Grant was summoned to a shelter to comfort a wino whose Native American lover had committed suicide by drowning himself in the Chicago River. I went with him. The deacon who ran the shelter had a huge sign in gold gothic script: "Love your neighbor today: leave him alone".
After brief introductions, in a tiny office made into a parlor, Grant and I sat in silence with the grief stricken man for at least ten minutes. The man broke the silence: "It's a tough world for a girl these days."
"We two girls say Amen to that!" Grant said.
That passed the man's test. Then he trusted us and poured out his heart.
Pray for those of us who now pour out our hearts.
Louie, Quean Lutibelle
I never knew or even knew of Fr Grant Gallup, but he sounds like a lovely man. May he rest in peace and rise in glory. May God give comfort, consolation, and the peace that passes understanding to all who love Grant.
Thanks to Ann.
Portrait of Grant by Dan Polley.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Every time I read posts like this I go, "Oh, I would have liked to have met him (or her)!" Thank God for the Communion of Saints! I'll get to meet him eventually!
ReplyDeleteRick, my sentiments exactly. One day....
ReplyDeleteMay he rest in Peace and rise in Glory!
ReplyDeleteI was privileged to have known Grant in his final decades. I was even more blessed to have had the opportunity to visit with him at Casa Ave Maria in Managua on a pair of Christmases in 2003 and 2005. He was a master of hospitality, and his table in the poor barrio of Monsigneur Lezcaño was like Louie's rememberance from Chicago, never empty. One night we walked through the streets to a nearby restaurant for a wonderful dinner, upon our stroll home and little boy on a bicycle called out to him, "Hello you old faggot!" and with out missing a beat in our conversation or a hint of irony, he waved at the lad and called back, "Good evening to you sweet boy!" He lived with such a level of honesty and generosity, that everyone who knew him respected him and saw in him a witness of God's grace. I have no word to describe my sadness, and am grateful for my own memories which bring me comfort.
ReplyDeleteRanduwa, welcome. Thanks so much for your personal account. I wish I'd known Grant, who was surely one of God's saints. You have my sympathy and prayers.
ReplyDelete