Why I Do What I Do, Episode #7

This is a story from several years ago, but it has haunted me ever since. A friend of mine lives in another state. I met her because we had both led several teams to Haiti for our churches after the earthquake in 2010. Like so many missioners who help in Haiti, she came to love the country and its people, and has given her heart to serving there. She was a member of the United Methodist Church in her town. I say “was,” because she no longer felt welcome there and left. Several mission trips had taken place when a new pastor was assigned to her church. Soon, he shut down its Haiti ministry, ended the commitments the congregation had made to help people in Haiti, and informed my friend that she was not qualified to lead mission teams there. How could this be? She is a mother and grandmother. She was a faithful member of her church and a servant to others in her community and in Haiti. She is a good person. The new minister told her that she was not qualified because of two people she allowed on one of her teams – a Buddhist and a gay man. The minister asked her why she would do such a shameful thing. She responded that God calls everyone to serve people in need, especially such desperate need as she had witnessed in Haiti. Her minister – a man of God – replied that "God does not call Buddhists or homosexuals to do anything - for any reason." Was this my UMC? Sadly, in too many churches and Districts and Conferences, the answer was yes then and still is.

The ugly face of bigotry persists, the disagreement is too great, and our denomination is now dividing. Those who remain are working hard to become a fully inclusive church, to value everyone as a child of God, made in the image of God . But I wonder. Are we too late? Can the UMC survive? Will we ever truly move past the old tribal prejudices? I hope so. But I also know this. The only sin in all of this was that pastor driving my friend away from the church that had nurtured her for years. There are so many stories of the harm that church teachings have done to LGBTQ+ Christians. I can't say why this one has stayed with me, but hearing it was the moment I knew exactly where I stood and that silence is complicity. My confirmation day.

These are small steps compared to the brave difficult actions of so many others, but as a member of church council, I was one of many who encouraged my church to become a reconciling congregation. As Outreach Chair, I helped organize our congregation's contingent to march with the United Methodists in the DC Capital Pride parade.

I stand up for LGBTQ+ inclusion because I am a Christian. I do this because our faith calls us to love our neighbor and to respect and value every person exactly as God made them. I do this because it's the right thing to do. But I also do this because I expect my church and denomination to reject hate and persecution. The story above is not only a story of the tragic harm done to LGBTQ+ youth and adults in our congregations, but is also a reminder that this bigotry harms our congregations in other ways as well.