When the captivating Rev. C. Anthony Muse took the pulpit at the funeral of a fellow state senator last month, he repeated a phrase throughout his eulogy like a gospel choir singing a refrain: "Well done, Senator Britt, we'll take it from here."
To many listeners in the pews that day, the phrase was a poignant way for Muse to pay tribute to the late Sen. Gwendolyn T. Britt and her long history as an activist. But the gay and lesbian attendees, who were shifting in the pews to exchange knowing looks, hoped the phrase meant something more. They hoped that Muse might literally take up Britt's latest civil rights struggle: legalizing same-sex marriage.
Muse is at the center of a religious-cultural debate on the meaning of marriage in Maryland. As an evangelical bishop and head of the Ark of Safety Christian Church, the lawmaker says he opposes gay marriage on religious grounds. But he also says that he is concerned about "fair, equal treatment" for gay couples. He has not made up his mind on civil unions.
Gay-rights proponents see Muse as their best hope of getting legislation recognizing same-sex unions through the Maryland General Assembly this year. He is one of a few pivotal votes on the deeply divided Senate Judicial Proceedings Committee, which is scheduled to hold a hearing on bill to legalize gay marriage today, on Valentine's Day.
"He's experiencing the same tug of war on the issue as a lot of Christians," said Sen. Jamie Raskin, a lead sponsor of the gay-marriage bill. He met with Muse recently to try to win his support and brought up Britt's legacy as someone unafraid to stand up.
"If Senator Muse stood up for marriage equality like Senator Britt did before her untimely death, he would become a civil liberties hero to people across the nation," Raskin said.
Muse is building his political profile, taking over Britt's position as the head of the Prince George's County delegation this month. The 49-year-old has been involved in state politics for more than 15 years but spent only five in office. He served one term in the House of Delegates in the late 1990s, lost an election for county executive a few years later and then ran for an open seat in the Senate in 2006.
He says he was driven to serve by his religious upbringing with his adoptive father, the Rev. George Stansbury, who told him, "You can't just stay in the pulpit." Back then, Stansbury pastored at the St. James United Methodist Church on the corner of Monroe and Lexington in Baltimore, a corner for drug hawkers, where he helped people get off the streets and into jobs.
