Coming Out
Editor’s Note: To protect all parties, the authors have chosen to share their voices through A, B, and C. Each represents a different voice. We pray this story gives hope and confidence to stand together and to widen the door so all people may come out into the light.
A: I had just spent the last ten years working toward being ordained when my sister in law asked me to officiate for her wedding. I was so excited to be asked. After being together with her partner of 20 years, my sister in law’s state had finally legalized same sex marriages and they wanted to make it official. Even in my excitement, I couldn’t risk losing my Orders after all that work. So I said no. The feeling of denying not only this couple but denying my call to do no harm, to do good, and to stay in love with God haunts me to this day and I promised myself that if another couple was committed to marrying, I would not say no again.
Years passed and that conviction stayed strong.
I met this couple during a mission encounter at church. We began having lunch together, taking walks together, sharing our vulnerabilities and woundedness from this church that I love deeply together. We shared our faith and understanding that God created us in God’s image and with sacred worth because God formed each person’s orientation and identity specifically for each unique individual.
B: I knew that a wedding in the church that I love was not something that my partner and I would be able to do. I had come out as queer, over and over. At church this meant coming out to friends, my clergy, my small group. It meant making sure that my partner was accepted and protected in my church home. It meant that when we got engaged we didn’t feel like we could ask our clergy, our friend, to be part of our wedding. After deep discussion and prayer we did ask. Ever hopeful that the special called General Conference would move our church to full inclusion, our clergy accepted.
C: Although I attend a United Methodist church now with my spouse, this wasn't my first time ‘coming out’ to the church community. Church was a place that had asked me to leave more than once. Church was a place that shunned and tried to change me - but I could not change and my heart still longed for God. I became comfortable meeting God in places outside of Church and found affirming, loving spaces inside other communities. I was convinced there was no church community for queer christians. Church trauma lasts a lifetime. The only remedy for that type of pain is a different kind of Church.
My partner and I dated for over a year before I could allow myself to try Church again. It wasn’t just the way that God was impacting my partner but the way that God was working through my partner in their church community. I loved the idea of mission work and decided that would be the safest place to start. When I finally began attending United Methodist services with my partner, I found a home in an amazing church community. This church community has loved us and celebrates the gifts we have to offer as a couple..but it was still the same Church.
A: When they announced their engagement, we met for lunch to celebrate. There’s always good food and fellowship involved in our encounters. And we began to discuss their desire for me to officiate. A special called General Conference was coming and we were hopeful. I said yes. The date was set for after the Conference, where we hoped and prayed there would be space for full inclusion.
B: General Conference was devastating. It made clear that the denomination I grew up in did not see me as a full member in the body of Christ. It was also clear to me that my partner and I could not put our friend, our clergy, at such a great risk by having them officiate our wedding. In what should have been a joyous time of wedding planning, we were left feeling unwanted.
C: General Conference came. I watched the person I love experience Church trauma for the first time. I sat next to them and we listened. For hours and hours, we listened. The votes were in and the outcome was clear - it would be entirely too much risk for our clergy to be involved in our wedding. We wanted nothing more than to protect our friend, but were heartbroken and scared. We continued planning and dreaming about our wedding, which now included the possibility of a different officiant.
A: After the shattering division of General Conference, with tears in all our eyes, we decided that I should not officiate. But this never settled well with me. After months of talking and praying and talking some more I asked once more for permission to officiate. Their protection of me is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received as a clergy person. We talked through the ramifications of “getting caught” and how to protect my identity. And in 2020 I did officiate for this incredible couple that I deeply love and respect. I officially entered the closet out of which they were walking.
B/C: We were loved-on by so many from our church community. Our friend, our clergy, made sure that we knew everyday that we were loved; that God loved us and that God loved our union. We didn’t have to ask the second time. Our friend came to us with a beautiful offer to officiate our wedding. From that point on our first priority was to have the wedding of our dreams. Our second priority was to protect our friend. By entering the closet with us our friend was able to join us in coming out for full inclusion in the United Methodist church. By officiating our wedding, our friend and clergy stood up for me and my spouse in a way that showed God’s love of all God’s children.
A/B/C: When we look back in ten years time, we hope this is a story of how the church used to be. That it’s a story of how we end up on the right side of morality and on the side of love. We fully believe that the Kin-dom of God is one where all people are fully embraced, erasing all the -isms placed upon people to separate them out. But until that day, we choose to embrace one another with hope and joy, recognizing the sacred worth of the entire community of God. We cannot wait until it is finally safe for everyone to come out of the closet.