Et tu, UMC?

Now, this week, it's the turn of the United Methodist Church.  At a special conference in St. Louis, the worldwide body voted to specifically exclude LGBTQ+ people from marriage and ministry.  Not only did they not move forward; they took a step back.  They are willing to lose congregations, pastors, members to avoid the taint of "impure" love.

I went to a Methodist seminary, a truly Spirit-filled place where all were welcome (including traditionalists, evangelicals, Pentecostals).  I sat with Methodist friends as they struggled with each conference refusing to include them or those they loved.  But somehow, I thought time would keep marching toward inclusion.  Now, I should know that every action generates reaction; witness the United States in 2019.  I know that the arc of history bends toward justice - or, I choose to stand in that belief.  But ouch.

It would be easy to say, "welcome to the Episcopal Church!" Or the UCC, or the ELCA.  But that's not an answer.  These aren't just places we happen to gather; each denomination, each parish is a culture unto itself.  It confers identity and belonging.  At this moment, we are generating a new wave of refugees.  This is nothing to celebrate or capitalize on.

And yet it is incumbent on me, on us, to reach out and welcome those who have lost their homes.  As surely as people are traumatized by physical dislocation, they are traumatized by rejection and expulsion.   Now is a good time to find a Methodist friend and sit with them, to post a welcome sign on your actual or virtual home, to stand with those deemed outside the tent.

"Jesus bent down and wrote with his finder on the ground.  When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, 'Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.'  And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground.  When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him.  Jesus straightened up and said to her, 'Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?' She said, 'No one, sir.'  And Jesus said, 'Neither do I condemn you.  Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.'"  (John 8:6b-11)

Good advice for us all.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/im-a-gay-methodist-minister-the-church-just-turned-its-back-on-me/2019/02/27/4980415c-3ab4-11e9-aaae-69364b2ed137_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.623137ac5efb

Lambeth, O Lambeth!

Yesterday I read that the Archbishop of Canterbury has specifically decided not to invite the same-sex spouses of bishops to attend next year's Lambeth Conference.  Although this currently affects only one bishop, the Rt. Rev. Mary Glasspool, that won't be true forever.  Last week the diocese of Maine elected the first diocesan bishop who is married to a same-sex partner.  (Language is tricky here.  I can't say "the first married gay diocesan," because I'm sure many diocesans have been gay and married; they just weren't married to a person of the same gender.  That seems to be OK with the archbishop.)

I understand that Archbishop Welby met with Bishop Glasspool and her wife last December.  I know they were all very adult, seeking to find common ground or something.  But I keep thinking: how about the bishops in Africa who endorsed capital punishment for same-sex relations?  How about those who have expelled LGBTQ people from congregations and offices?  How about those who call us perverted or diseased or demonic?  Are they invited?  Are their spouses invited?

I know the rationale for the anti-gay hatred.  In those countries, standing with the outcasts would amount to giving Christianity a bad name, ammunition in a culture war,  I don't recall that Jesus made decisions that way.  And if it works in Africa, can't we say the same over here?  What does it do for the "name" of Christianity in North America when the Anglican Communion won't recognize our changing culture?  So many people hunger for a church where they can be at home.  I hunger for them to know one.

Would Jesus attend this gathering?  Likely he would.  He went to the homes of Pharisees.  But when he went, he taught them a thing or two.  He made sure that some "sinners" got in the door with him.  He would not, I believe, have gone and acted like it was OK to leave out the woman who loved him so outrageously.  He would not have asked Levi to stay home because a tax collector was tainted.  He went to Zacchaeus' house, daring people to tell him not to.

Oh my church, my church!  How often Jesus has longed to teach you, to comfort you, but you were not willing!

https://www.episcopalnewsservice.org/2019/02/18/same-sex-spouses-not-invited-to-next-years-lambeth-conference-of-bishops/

Believe?

Our visit to Omaha was illuminating and inspiring.  Our Companions there are eager to share what they have, to create safe space to talk about what matters to people, to share in a rhythm of prayer, to be accountable to each other.  We had conversations that went deep, and played games that made us laugh our heads off.  We made that space, and dreamed about widening the circle of access to it.

On Sunday Elizabeth and I led a forum at St. Martha's Episcopal Church.  We talked about the Companions, how we came to be and what we are trying to do.  At one point we were asked to talk about what we believe and what we don't believe.  This was an invitation to speak frankly, to model the safety and welcome we announce.  I won't share my answer here; anything I name is just a beginning.  Rather, I'm intrigued by the ways our Christian communities are still formed around ideas rather than relationships.  "What do you believe?" usually translates into doctrines, creeds.  They become like loyalty oaths, outlining to whom I belong and on what terms.

I don't think faith is like that, really.  I think faith, and belief, are about trust.  Where do I put my trust?  With whom or what am I related?  As some people would put it, "Who are your kin?"  And people, unlike ideas, cannot be encapsulated and summarized.  We try: we use codes like Myers-Briggs types, Enneagram, astrology, psychological diagnoses.  We use ethnic and racial categories, or gender or age or sexuality categories.  And each of them tell us something.  We may mention other belongings: religion, denomination, faction, community or society, interest groups.  Again, not wrong, but they don't substitute for the actual encounter with another person.  And God, while more than a person, is a person.  Jesus was and is a person.  The Holy Spirit, the Trinity, the living fabric of the universe: persons as well as energies and forces.  Known by me as person.  Trusted as person.

So what do I believe?  I trust in the power of love that creates and recreates the universe.  I trust in the boundless creativity of that love, working in and around me.  I trust in a force I cannot ever name adequately, but that I can share with others.  I trust in the incarnations of that love.  I rely on the community of those who share that trust, that joy, that wonder.

That may not satisfy you.  But I don't really believe that satisfaction is possible for the hunger that burns in me.  I can glimpse it, but the hunger is meant to lead me on to the banquet bigger than I can imagine or describe.  I'm happy to be hungry, happy to live beyond words, happy to rest in God while traveling to God.  I pray you will also be happy in those ways.  I pray that we will continue to build communities where people of faith can learn that what they "believe" matters less than what they love, and that God loves them in ways they cannot believe!