The fight for inclusion of LGBTQIA+ people started in ‘72 with the first language of exclusion.
I was 8. I’m now two months from 60.
It’s a lifetime.
And while there will be much said about this General Conference by those who were there, today I’m thinking of those along the way to liberation who were victims of exclusion.
I’m thinking about those whose Spirit inspired calls to fruitful and life changing ministries were squelched by all the phobias and -isms cloaked in the the “hate the sin, love the sinner” bullshit, all which broke the first General Rule of The United Societies of the people called Methodists, “do no harm.”
My God, so much harm.
I think of those in ministry I’ve known who lived publicly with a persona that belied who God made them to be just so that they could minister. I think of those publicly shamed because of “the rules of the church.”
I think of those living with the inward torture of locking away their true selves because of others’ expectations.
Over 50 years of harm, of being discounted and discarded, it’s all a bit much.
The list is long and winding, but if you’ve been in this work over the past decades, you know and love someone left on the battlefield of spiritual orthodoxy because of who they are.
While The United Methodist Church in this new reality is unfolding and cause for celebration, there’s something that needs to happen first: confession, repentance, and repair.
Turns out making amends and seeking repair is life-long work. It’s a lesson I’m still learning. It’s a spiritual practice I recommend The United Methodist Church take up.
For those who’ve prayed for, worked for, fought for inclusion, I celebrate with you. It’s been a long time coming. But let’s do so with humility.
The language of the Book of Discipline has changed. Truly, I never thought I’d see the day. Although, changes in language and changes in the heart don’t always align.
Even now, as memes celebrating the death of “incompatible” circulate, there are other messages emerging from the offices of bishops, superintendents, and pastors emphasizing that no church has to receive a gay pastor and no church has to host same sex weddings.
So maybe “liberation-lite?”
Ask women in ministry. Ask people of color in ministry. The work is not done. It never will be this side of the eschaton.
One thing’s for sure, there will always be “the other,” and the invitation to draw the circle wider will confront and challenge us when we think we’ve won, that we’ve got it all figured out.
Let’s not gloat. Let’s make a witness.
The current generation of leaders in The United Methodist Church will have a clearer runway to do amazing things than mine did. Go do it.
Let it be. Amen.
