What You Can’t Kill: Why Last Saturday Was So Important
“You’re never going to kill storytelling, because it’s built into the human plan. We come with it.” – Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale
General Conference 2019 put to death many things.
For some of us, it killed our optimism, that idyllic hope that we might actually chart a way forward that would unite the ever-divided and reproducing tribes.
For some of us, perhaps it killed our naivety, that sense that “it will all work out,” or that “it’s the same ol’ conversation that’s been happening for years,” or that, if I just ignore it, it will lose its steam before I have to share my own convictions or lead my congregation through substantial conflict or change.
For some of us, GC2019 killed our trust, and, subsequently, our connection to the Church, or to a particular church, as we witnessed and received the harm done to our LGBTQIA+ siblings. We cringed at mainstream media headlines and possible, now-confirmed voter fraud, braced for the implementation of a punitive plan, and, either immediately or eventually, decided that we could no longer with Christian integrity be part of the church we had so loved.
And for some of us, we watched GC2019 kill our cowardice. Now, we find ourselves, personally and corporately - in the Washington Post, at the Capitol Pride Parade, through Annual Conference voting, speaking up and standing with the LGBTQIA+ community in organized and strategic ways we never had the courage to before. And, though not complete, we have begun amplifying and elevating new voices that have been otherwise unheard to lead us toward 2020.
GC2019 may have killed our optimism, naivety, trust, and even cowardice, some of which needed to happen, but, in the last six months, it has also brought to life something beautiful and brave, something inspired and incredibly hard to manufacture:
Organized storytelling in community.
A lot has been put to death over these last six months, but the one thing no one can kill is the sharing of story in community. As Margaret Atwood names, “It’s built into the human plan.”
And in light of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, Christians add:
Storytelling is how God reveals God’s plan.
It was in story, in Word, that the Divine was revealed in human form.
And it was in story that the human was invited to grow in likeness of the Divine.
Organized storytelling, in all its complicated simplicity, was the magic and mystery that came to life organically in March on a Facebook group that started this movement for a new thing in Virginia. And the power of storytelling is at the heart of why last Saturday’s first Cultivating Beloved Community event at Fairlington UMC, one of many regional gatherings upcoming, was so important during this season of uncertainty and waiting, this in-between what died and what will come to life in the UMC.
At last Saturday’s gathering, much to my surprise, we didn’t rehash the components of the Traditional Plan or try to make sense of Judicial Council rulings or voter fraud. We didn’t talk through updates from Annual Conference or try to anticipate or unpack petitions and plans for 2020. Instead, we sat at tables, shared pastries and coffee, and passed the mic to those who had a story to tell, whether of individual struggle or congregational journey. Together we combed through the tangles of these last six months and identified where we were seeing and sensing God’s beloved community being cultivated.
“And it was exactly what we needed. It was a surprising opportunity to connect with others and share resources, but more than anything, it was a powerful reminder of what’s important and why we need to engage more deeply in this work,” reflected Alyssa Densham, leaving that day with more language to help lead within her church and a renewed sense of personal call as a children’s director, seminary student, and candidate for ministry amidst the current climate.
After sharing what we were feeling, how we were connecting, and the doors we were watching God open, we concluded the morning with a challenging, honest, and crucial training on gender, sexuality, privilege, and language, a conversation that, I believe, before GC2019 would have made even progressives uncomfortable. It is a conversation that will continue to kill our cowardice, but more so, it is a conversation that was brought to life only in the storytelling and that will birth countless stories to come.
The Cultivating Beloved Community gatherings are an invitation to not forsake the story, God’s plan revealed in community. Because rulings and petitions may be put to death, but you’re never going to kill the Story.
Michelle Matthews is an inner-city high school English teacher turned pastorpreneur. Having helped plant four other United Methodist new faith communities in Virginia Beach and Raleigh-Durham, Michelle is now the pastor at The Kingstowne Communion, a church plant in Alexandria, Virginia, and lives a simple urban life in Old Town with her husband of 12 years Chris, 16 year old schnauzer Tootie, and cat Chandler Bing.