Growing up, I didn't have a whole heck of a lot of experience with church. My family boasted our Portuguese Catholic heritage although I recall only once attending a Catholic mass with my family. It was also the same day that we attended worship at the local Baptist church. As my mother, my step-father and his four children walked into either sacred space, I'm sure we were looked upon as a "good Christian/Catholic family." If only they knew... (but that's a post for another day)
As a youth, I naturally gravitated to wherever it was that my friends were hanging out. And it just so happened that the place they were hanging out was the local United Methodist Church, attending their youth fellowship program. So I went. I ate their snacks. I played their games. I probably even sang their songs and sat with head bowed, eyes closed as they prayed their prayers. But I cannot recall any connection... to the church, the religion or their God. To my friends? Yes! But that was the only connection.
I continued on that path for a while, attending youth fellowship and growing my friendships.
That fellowship and those friendships also took me to a United Methodist summer camp. Actually, a summer Confirmation camp. The week culminated in (apparently) my meeting the requirements of being confirmed in the United Methodist Church. Although what I took away from that week was notably far less than the camp counselors would've hoped.
But nonetheless, I was confirmed a United Methodist and became a member of that local church. Though I'm not sure I attended church beyond that point.
Fast forward a few years. I'm living back in my hometown, attending college and working at a local fast food restaurant. There I met the wife of a young, vibrant Methodist pastor that encouraged me to give the church another try. I went to worship in their church. I was even drafted as a camp counselor one summer... the summer I engaged one of the biggest struggles of my life.
It was at that Methodist summer camp where I experienced my own conversion experience. I had been struggling for some time to find a balance between the God that was being introduced to me through the United Methodist Church and the inner understanding that I was significantly different than the neatly-organized, boxed-in identities of those whom I was told God loved. I am different. I am different because I am gay.
I continue to give thanks to that young, vibrant United Methodist pastor not only for inviting me into an opportunity that led to my personal conversion experience but also for sitting down in his office with me, answering the heavy question that was on my heart. "Tell me what the church says about homosexuality."
His response, which I love still this day was yet another question. "Do you want to know what the church believes or what I believe?"
He didn't even need to go further. His words assured me that no matter what the denomination may believe or teach, not everyone in the church was in agreement. If the church taught that someone like me, created by God as unique in a system that sees anything outside of the "straight" box as abnormal WAS abnormal... then perhaps that church is not for me.
It was there that I released myself from a relationship with the United Methodist Church. As the years turned from that point forward I lived into a call from God to ministry in the Christian church and knowing that the United Methodist Church was not going to affirm me for who God has created me to be, I took a different path. And today, I give thanks to God for the United Church of Christ, for the lead we have taken as a denomination on so many levels and for affirming me in my ordination to the Christian ministry.
As more and more information comes out from the current United Methodist General Conference, my heart breaks. Those who are still within the United Methodist Church who yearn to live and be in ministry as their true selves are hurting and being hurt. I fear for those ordained members who have come out as openly LGBTQ, making themselves very vulnerable in the midst of a divisive conference. I pray for the local churches torn apart by this dialogue. And I weep for Christianity, again centered in the public eye, revealing our flaws and assuring those outside of our churches that we are truly as hypocritical as they project.
As I read the voices of those engaged in these United Methodist conversations I pray that healing can happen, that folks can be aware of God's presence in the midst of it all and that the Gospel can shine through.
Sure, I could sit back and scoff at those that are not ready to embrace the full inclusion of my LGBTQ siblings. I could go off on the ignorance, the lack of educated understanding of what is at play. I could even simply ignore it all because I am sitting in a denomination that affirms me, that has ordained me... an openly gay man. Why should I care about those outside of the United Church of Christ?
But I don't do these things. Instead I long for, and I hope to work toward a time when all who claim to follow Jesus will exist in such a way that we no longer demean those different from ourselves. I hope to work toward bringing about more and more glimpses of the kingdom which Jesus spoke of where love of God, neighbor and self prevails. I hope to raise our children in a world where these debates are a thing of the past, a world where all are valued for the person God has created them to be. That is the world of which God dreams, I believe.
So to those in our Christian family who are aligned with the United Methodist Church... God be with you. God be with you in this time of difficult conversations, this time of uncertainty. God be with you as you seek to not only speak your truth with love but also to listen intently to those, God's beloved who disagree. May the Spirit move in and through us all.
