I haven't written anything here in quite some time. My spirit has been really challenged since the last time I did blog, which was during Holy Week. Though it might be hard to believe for those of you who truly know me, I have not been able to put words to this spiritual journey until now. I pray that these words actually convey my earnest intentions. Writing always seems to help me process and get things out of my head and heart that are taking up WAY too much space.
I've been uninvited. It happened a few weeks ago. A call from a respected pastor friend telling me that I was no longer welcome to preach in his church. I've never been un-invited before. I mean I have "not-been" invited many times. The title of pastor as a young adult sometimes lends itself to exclusion in lots of situations. (I mean, I can clear an entire bar by just the mention that I'm a pastor). But this "un-invitation" came as quite a gut-wrenching surprise.
This summer a clergyman in my conference of the UMC was forced to resign from his church because of his sexuality. He and his partner had been very open about their lives from the very moment of his appointment. The church was flourishing, exciting, and on fire with the Spirit. That is it was, until someone outside who I'm sure will remain anonymous forever gave an official complaint to our Bishop about the situation. Thus the quick response to call for his resignation and the death-blow to a church that had little time to prepare.
In the midst of huge decline in membership in the UMC, a financial crunch that crushes our campus and camping ministries, and a general spirit of anxiety at what the future holds, this happens. I felt like a five-year-old as my Spirit cried out to God, "This is NOT fair." You see, I look at the bigger picture of my denomination and I believe that our theology is exactly what the world longs to hear. I love our theological history and grounding. I love that we emphasize love and grace available to all, and that we truly believe the church is mean to be a movement rather than four walls and a bunch of pews. My dedication to this denomination speaks for itself (I hope) and I foresee another thirty years of ministry in whatever places the itinerant system deems I should go. At this point, however, I'm not sure there will be any churches to serve. These days claiming my credentials as a United Methodist pastor lends people to say things like, "Oh no, that church is the worst." It is painful to think that this Church that led the way in abolishing slavery is being held hostage by the fear that God cannot possibly call certain people into ministry, or into the covenant of marriage.
Uninvited. I've been asked NOT to preach because of my desire to serve a denomination that cares more about the movement of the Spirit and less about the archaic rules found in Scripture that were clearly written for a certain time and place. What about Paul I am asked. My reply, what about Jesus?
This week I spent some time with my mom in a place she loves, Shipshewana, IN. This place is so interesting as two worlds collide: the Amish and the "English". I imagine many of you have been there, but if not it's a great day trip and very cool place to visit. We went to the flea market, which offers a variety of strange and wonderful things, from antiques to socks to beautiful hand-crafted furniture. Right in the middle of the dusty flea market I again encountered the Holy Spirit. I feel like the last six months God has been really "messing" with me. Challenging my heart in such ways that I can't sleep, causing me to question if I'm living out this calling in the way I am supposed to.
We had been walking up and down the rows, just laughing and enjoying ourselves when we began to hear that old-time religious music that I love. "I saw the light, I saw the light, no more darkness, no more night." It wasn't the music that I found interesting right at that spot, it was the really awesome t-shirts for sale across the aisle. "Give peace a chance" they said, "Give more, take less." As I began to look I knew I would purchase a couple of these shirts for some friends. The gal who designed and created the shirts was really cool! I made mention of the loud music and wondered if she listened to it all day everyday. That's when God stepped in and kept me quiet. I told her I wanted to buy shirts for my college students and that's when she began:
She loved the music. She loves God. She made some "God" shirts but they weren't the kind people really like. They asked the hard questions. Nobody bought them. Then she said, "Do I look gay?" I was completely caught off guard. "No," I said. Then she began to tell me that she was, and that her partner looked more gay than she did. She began to tell a story of her parents inviting them to an ice-cream social at their church (a UMC in Indiana). Mom called to invite them, so they were excited to attend this fun event at the church she had grown up in. But as they were headed to the church another call came from mom. "Why don't you gals just go to dinner and we can meet up at the house?" They'd been uninvited....again.
She explained that she and her partner had been married in a Lutheran church by a wonderful pastor that they loved. After the ceremony they attended worship, until the church council met and voted that they not be allowed to participate in the ministries of the church. Uninvited.
As a clergy woman I take my credentials very seriously. I worked SO hard to obtain the necessary degrees and pass the written/oral interviews. Ordination was one of the best moments of my life, bringing a finality to my acceptance that God really had/s called me to serve to the best of my ability. So when the call came in explaining that I was no longer welcome to preach (though I intended to preach about the ministry of the Wesley House) the tears rolled. My dedication and integrity had been questioned, though I had no avenue of sharing my thoughts or motivations. This amazing ministry with which I work would not receive the welcome I had hoped....just because of my opinion.
It's been a bit now, but in the midst of my discernment God confronts me with people like the T-Shirt seller. How can we have the same mind of Christ, if we continue to put rules around the table? Campus ministry is an interesting adventure. We encounter students that are all over the map theologically and spiritually. Some come from traditions that give them the black and white foundations that keeps them safe - until they encounter a person or situation that yanks them into the gray areas. Some come ready to debate whether or not the church is even effective anymore or relevant. Some come as blank slates, just looking to connect with service opportunities and make the world a better place. Nearly all come in the midst of that deep exploration of "who am I, and what is my purpose?"
Wesley Campus Ministries are about building up leadership for our churches and for the future. How can we do this with integrity when some of our students are like the T-Shirt seller and will be uninvited to the table, to the church, to ordination. How can we minister with integrity, sharing about the Wesleyan love and grace, mercy and salvation when our leadership makes decisions that cause pain, harm, and decline.
The wrestling in my soul continues as I watch wonderful pastors leave our denomination. It continues as I prepare to welcome students to the Wesley House, a safe place for people to engage their spiritual lives. The wrestling comes when I think of my teen years working with/for people who had loving partner relationships of the same-sex. I can't represent a church that is quick to un-invite when I'm so certain that Jesus was the only one who invited all to the table, to the movement, to Life.
I write this not to persuade or get into a debate, but to share a bit about this journey I have been on. Mostly it's a way for me to get some of these things out of my heart - because sometimes I feel like I'm being swallowed up. Please join me in praying for anyone, anywhere who has felt uninvited to a relationship with Christ because of their identity. God doesn't intend us to judge, but to love.
