After an entire year of CPE, working to heal and grieve and understand the layers of who I am and how I am wired, I sort of thought I would come out of it with a super-girl cape, that I would be so self-differentiated and reflective that remaining in healthy, non-reactive, grounded space would be a lot easier. And honestly, in so many ways it has. I find myself in a completely new territory for me - formerly eternally single and fairly lonely most of the time - I now am loved fiercely by one who continues to dig right into life with me every single day. The bonus comes in a nine-year old little feminist who teaches me the value of time - doing math homework, eating meals together, learning new things with courage. I have a home that feels like home, which if you are a UMC pastor, you know is not always the case. I am serving as the associate pastor for a church that is unique, in transition like all churches, and has offered me the space to live into my vocation while also being authentic to who I find myself to be in this moment. Because of CPE, I am a better person and pastor than I have ever been. I remind myself of all that I have learned, to pause and be fully present, to bring myself fully to the gift of each day. I understand all of this to be part of my sacred process of sanctification and transformation, and Jesus continues to be my closest companion on this journey.
So, when I read the latest about another delay in the General Conference of the UMC (which I totally expected and is the right decision for many reasons) I was taken aback by the tear-filled deep grief that immediately interrupted my night. The news hit differently this time because I am now a part of the "problem". My ability to serve, to fulfill the call God placed on my life, to love people into a relationship with Jesus, to be who I have been created to be, sort of hangs in the balance now. A couple years ago I thought I would just pursue a different denominational expression (and I am just now beginning to explore that process). I though it would be easy to let my anger at this standstill and the pain it has caused so many people I love be the catalyst for my pursuit, but it hasn't worked. I have been confronted repeatedly by the hold the UMC has on my life. In so (so) many ways my entire life has been shaped and formed by this expression of God's activity in the world. For my entire life relationships with wonderful church folks have served as a strong foundation for my identity. That has never stopped, even now I celebrate the gift of these faithful companions I only know because of my connection with the connectional church. I have been so well loved, formed in faith, and challenged to live this same love into the world.
It makes me mad honestly, how I let the church system truly grab such a hold of me. It was my own doing, as I put my everything into trying to be the best - at the expense of any sort of balance. Coming back after a year away from the local church, I think I naively expected that my system would see me as the same pastor I have always been. But that is not the case, as who I love prevents me from serving fully in most places. Yet, I am the same, actually I'm much healthier now. I say often that all of this just doesn't make sense in my head. How can finally finding the person I'm supposed to love for the rest of my life be at odds with the call to ministry God placed on my heart when I was 20 years old? How can loving someone like this, feeling so certain that it is true and right and good, be an abomination? It can't. It isn't. But when this "thing" has had such a hold on who you are is at odds with who you now know yourself to be, the result can easily be shame. I remind myself quite often that shame is not an option, that the God I know, who created me with purpose and design, is the God who continues to breath life and love into me every moment.
At the same time, I am not ready to lead the PRIDE parade, in fact I have only recently found the bravery to talk about this openly in meetings where I am asked to share a bit about myself. It's taken me six months to find that voice, and may take me a lifetime to be a strong advocate for myself. It is easier for me to be an advocate for the people I love, many of whom are young adults and youth that are struggling with the idea of being Christian, of connecting to a church, of claiming faith in Jesus...because they do not like the version of Christianity that is uncertain if persons of the LGBTQ+ community are fully loved by God. The UMC is on hold, and the longer it is on hold the less relevant it becomes. But the hold it has is real, The theological intention of the UMC is powerful, it is good, it is relevant. In its current state it is causing pain, anger, fear, and shame. This I know.
I am grateful for colleagues in the UMC that are fighting boldly - making statements of inclusion, defying the rules in order to prevent causing further harm. I am certain you are weary. I am thankful that I currently work in a space where I can see things from a step away, for the gift of working with a compassionate, straight-forward, senior pastor who challenges me to trust myself and my abilities. But my friends, I am deeply saddened today as the reality of all of this continues to stake its claim. I imagine God is too.
I wonder this Lenten season if what I'm being called to give up is my theological and spiritual home?
My prayer is simple: Lead me, Lord. Lead me in thy righteousness; make they way plain before my face. For it is thou, Lord, thou, Lord only, that makest me dwell in safety. Amen.
