Gay man of God: the Reverend V. Gene Robinson recounts the scandal-ridden process that led to his confirmation as the first openly gay Episcopal bishop.

There is a sign outside most if not all Episcopal churches that reads THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH WELCOMES YOU. That welcome, though, hasn't always been extended to gay worshipers and clergy in the church. Now, with the House of Bishops' August 5 vote to confirm the Reverend Canon V. Gene Robinson as the first openly gay bishop in any mainline denomination, officials of the Episcopal Church USA seem to be taking great strides toward extending a more genuine welcome. With that vote, Robinson says, the church is proving that "we mean what we say on that sign."

Not that Robinson's confirmation as bishop of New Hampshire doesn't have some Episcopalians and other members of the worldwide Anglican Communion wanting to get rid of the signs altogether. As loud as the peals of celebration have been from gay activists and parishioners at Robinson's home church in Concord, N.H., there has been an equally audible thunder of protest from church conservatives, who have threatened to break from the denomination as a result of the confirmation.

Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams even called a meeting of the Anglican Communion, which includes the Episcopal Church USA, in October to discuss the ramifications of the confirmation. "The anxieties caused by recent developments have reached the point where we will need to sit down and discuss their consequences," Williams says. "I hope that in our deliberations we will find that there are ways forward in this situation which can preserve our respect for one another and for the bonds that unite us."

Back home in New Hampshire, where he will be consecrated as bishop on November 2, Robinson knows of the anxieties Williams mentions. "I'm very aware of the historic part of this role," he tells The Advocate. "But that's secondary to my feeling a call to the office of bishop--from God and the people of New Hampshire. A by-product of that [calling] is breaking through this barrier, which is very exciting, and I'm really happy to be doing it for the gay and lesbian community."

As happy as he is to be breaking down barriers, Robinson may need some time to recover from the harrowing confirmation process. Elected by his diocese in June, he then faced confirmation by the House of Deputies and House of Bishops at the church's General Convention in Minneapolis. Although there have been only two bishops whose elections have been rejected by the General Convention--both in the 1870s--Robinson says he had "no idea how it would go" for him. "We were doing our best to try to count the votes."

No amount of vote counting, though, could have predicted two allegations that nearly derailed the confirmation.

After the House of Deputies confirmed Robinson by a 2-1 ratio and just before the House of Bishops prepared to take a final vote, an E-mail surfaced in which a straight man reported that Robinson had harassed him. Critics of Robinson's confirmation then charged that he was connected to a gay youth Web site that was tangentially linked to an erotic site.

Robinson requested an investigation into the charges and for the next 36 hours sequestered himself with one of his two daughters and his partner of over 13 years, Mark Andrew. "We felt it was best not to interfere or comment," he says.

The Web site was part of Outright, a gay youth group for which Robinson helped set up a Concord chapter in 1995. A quick investigation, though, showed that Robinson hadn't worked with the group since 1998 and that the Web site--which was created by Outright's Portland, Maine, chapter--wasn't launched until 2002. The Minneapolis Star Tribune called the Web site allegation a "smear" and noted that pornography is only a few clicks from any Web site, including its own.

The harassment charge was leveled by David Lewis, a straight man from Vermont, who wrote to the Episcopal Church's governing body that he had met Robinson at an Episcopalian conference four years ago. He said they had had two conversations, during which Robinson touched him on the arm and the back. Both times, the men were in full view of hundreds of other attendees, and Lewis acknowledged that other people would have seen their exchanges as natural and normal. He later told investigators that he regretted using the term "harassment" and that he didn't want to file a formal charge against Robinson.

Robinson was subsequently cleared of any misconduct, and he was almost immediately confirmed by the House of Bishops in a 62-43 vote with two bishops not voting. But the fact that his confirmation was put on thin ice by such tenuous allegations concerns many activists.

"The Web site allegation was clearly an attempt by Gene's opponents to discredit him and can't be separated from their opposition based on his sexuality," says the Reverend Michael Hopkins, president of Integrity, an international group for gay and pro-gay Episcopalians.

Regarding Lewis's charge, Robinson says, "I do think that [an allegation like that] can happen to anyone. But I also think there is a visceral reaction some straight men have to other men. There's a certain discomfort when touched by another man."

Through it all, Hopkins says, Robinson was unflappable. "While some of us were nearly falling apart," he says, "Gene was the calm at the center." That calm is indicative of what New Hampshire Episcopalians will see in Robinson when he takes over as bishop in March, Hopkins adds.

Ordained in 1973, Robinson is replacing retiring bishop Douglas Theuner, whose ministry he has coordinated since 1988. Robinson came out to Theuner in 1986 after realizing he was gay and deciding to divorce his wife. Theuner subsequently hired Robinson as his chief of staff. "I took him at face value as a person," Theuner says. "He immediately struck me as a very capable and competent person."

Today, Robinson says he is very appreciative for the support he has received from gay men and lesbians, but he adds, "I think I can do more for gay and lesbian people in the church by being a good bishop than by being a gay bishop. That will say volumes to the church and to the world."

And even though he says he won't shy away from addressing gay issues in the church, including the fact that many dioceses don't ordain openly gay clergy or bless same-sex unions, his priorities will be "preaching the gospel and working with congregations to bring all kinds of people into the church."

Some supporters fear that threats of a schism could pressure Robinson to resign, just as they did the openly gay Reverend Canon Jeffrey John, who declined the post of bishop in July in the United Kingdom.

Robinson shrugs off those concerns. He notes that unlike John, who was appointed by a small group of clerics, he was elected by the people of the New Hampshire diocese. "They called me to be their bishop, and I said yes to them," he says. "And I'm not backing down."

Freiberg has also written for the Washington Blade and the New York Post.