Why I Stay

I spent more than 2 hours this evening in a Methodist Church in Dallas with more than 400 other Methodist LGBTQ+ allies and parents and community members, listening to each other speak of the hurt and reaction to the results of the general conference in February, and of the changes within their church as a result. I listened to the Bishop for the North Texas Conference speak about the effects of the conference votes, and the way forward out of the hurt, and the movement within the Methodist Church unlike any he has ever seen. And my heart broke at the feelings of hopelessness that I heard from some of the people. At the heartbreak, once again, of being told that who they are is wrong. At the pain of one more time being told that they are an abomination in the view of God and of the church. And yet I also heard middle age white cisgender men speak of their privilege and of their realization that it was no longer acceptable for them to remain silent in the face of injustice and inequality.

I sat with my pastor and with other members of our Open Heart ministry, and I was so very grateful to be a part of a congregation and a people who are meeting people where they are, loving them as they are, and affirming them just as God made them to be.

I spent the first 48 years of my life in a traditional fundamental denomination. In the last 5-10 years there, I had begun to question some of the things that I had always been taught. One of those things I began to question was homosexuality and whether it was a choice. Whether it was a sin. I had come to the conclusion through searching my own heart and soul that it was neither. That transformation of my thinking was a gift when my youngest son at age 13 came to us questioning his sexual orientation. It was his questioning, and the knowledge that he would not be supported in the church we had been in all of his life, that was one of the reasons we left the church we had been an active part of for more than 18 years. Not because of the people, but because of the theology. 

Two years after he first began questioning his sexuality, Clayton came out as gay. What we learned later was that he had spent much of those two years praying for God to change him. Praying that God would make him straight. Wondering why he was being punished and why God wasn’t answering his prayers. It took two years and the love of the other youth and the pastor of the new church we had been attending for him to realize that he was gay because that’s how God had made him. That God made him that way. And God loved him that way.

We ended up at the Methodist church not because of anything we knew about the view of the church on homosexuality, but because we saw the involvement of the church and the pastor in the community. We saw that they truly lived out Jesus' commands to Love God and Love One Another. I didn’t learn of the incompatibility language within the book of discipline until long after I knew the heart of my pastor and the heart of my church. If I had known that, I don’t know that I would have brought my gay child there.  That would have been a bit like jumping from the frying pan into the fire, if you will.

When I did learn of the language, and of all that would be going on with general conference, I began to learn all I could. I was both hopeful and apprehensive. I was disappointed to find that the Methodist Church as a whole wasn't as affirming as my own church was, but I was grateful that at least conversations about inclusivity and equality were being had. I supported the one church plan because it was a step in the right direction but I felt in my heart it wasn’t enough. But I was willing to stick it out with the faith that God would use the human cracking open of a door that had been shut and would slam that door open completely.

I had faith that would happen because that’s what I had seen God do within our church within our own LGBTQ+ support ministry. What started as a very modest hope of providing support to our LGBTQ+ families and allies has grown into a ministry that has had impact more far-reaching than we could have ever imagined. What started as a hope of meeting an unmet need in our church and in our community has spread far beyond what we would have ever dreamed. Part of the reason that it has spread the way that it has is in reaction to the results of general conference.

I know that, but for the work that we were doing in this area, many LGBTQ+ families would have left the Methodist Church because of the heartbreaking decisions made at general conference. Mine would have been one of them. 

I’ve been asked more than once why I stay in a denomination that says how my child was made is incompatible with Christian teaching.

I have had to defend on more than one occasion, both to others, and to myself, why I choose to stay.

I stay because while judicial counsels have been meeting and determining doctrinal legalities, while political maneuverings have been taking place to elect delegates for what is likely to be another contentious and hurtful general conference in 2020, while some people are gloating, and others are grieving, we at our church are working. We are following Jesus’ command to love God and to love others. All others. And we will continue this work regardless of whether we end up calling ourselves United Methodists or something totally different. We will continue this work because it is the right thing to do.

That is why I stay.  Because of this work.

Because of this work that we are doing to support our LGBTQ+ adults, our allies, and our LGBTQ+ youth, there have been people who previously have been unable or unwilling to step foot into a church in years who are now back in those seats, praising God, being loved by a church family, and using their gifts and talents to bless others. 

Because of this work, there are people who are healing from wounds that were inflicted on them by people wielding theological knives in the name of what they term as Christianity.

Because of this work, there are queer youth who are finding their voices, and speaking their truth, and absorbing their worth into the core of their very beings.

Because of this work, there are adults who have struggled all their lives with the idea of being both gay and being Christian, who are learning that they are loved by God, absolutely, and unconditionally, not DESPITE of who they are but BECAUSE of who they are.

Because of this work, there have been countless people who have learned to claim their belovedness as children of a loving God, made with a purpose, and for a purpose. Fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of a God who loves them just as they are.

I pray that the Methodist Church finds a way to live out the call for social justice and love of people that I have seen it live out in every other area of injustice within our society. But whatever the church decides, my church will continue the work that we are called to.  As for me and my church, we will serve the God who created us.  Each of us.