I was hurt yesterday. Watching General Conference this morning from the comforts of my office in the downtown church where I serve hurt me today. You see, for over 40 years our church has been split over the idea of homosexuality. There have been amendments to change language in our Book of Discipline. We’ve fretted over the idea of ordaining self-avowing, practicing homosexuals. We’ve debated the issue in circles for two generations now.
So here we are in the year 2012 and we’ve made zero progress. Both camps for this issue have long entrenched themselves so deep in their respective stances they can only come out about once every 4 years — just in time for General Conference — in order to talk past one another. Just hearing the rhetorical battles are really enough to exhaust you.
But yesterday morning, wonder of all wonders, there was a glimmer of light — hope, if you will — in the long, dark tunnel of division. It began when Dr. James Howell stood and spoke in favor of an amendment that simply tells the truth about our situation — we don’t agree. In this amendment there was hope for a possible “third way.” Pastors who struggle with the fact that we love The United Methodist Church, uphold the integrity of our church law, and want to advance Wesleyan holiness in our local contexts, and yet also recognize the present reality that we have homosexual members who faithfully serve our churches had an chance to hope for another path. For many of us, we long for the church to not only tell the truth about our present disagreement, but we also strive to commit ourselves both to each other as well as our homosexual friends, neighbors, and church members.
I long for a church that is bold enough to be a place where hard issues can be discussed openly and honestly. I long for a church that can tell the truth about its current reality of division and yet continue to strive for unity. I long for a church that doesn’t over-simplify issues to a choice between loving people and loving the Bible.
The debate continued when Rev. Adam Hamilton stood and shared a substitute motion that he and Rev. Mike Slaughter had written together. If you know Robert’s Rules, the beauty of this was that we had to vote on a substitute first, and then go back to vote on the original motion. Essentially there were two hopeful pieces of legislation on the floor at once.
I won’t rehash the entire debate except to say that neither motion passed. The issue was quickly polarized by: a) those who didn’t think it went far enough; and b) those who refuse to budge an inch in their resistance. There was enough grandstanding to go around. You could pick your flavor. You could move to ask a question and let that question be asking for permission to stand with protestors in favor of inclusion. Or you could get worked up with the grandfathers of the resistance movement, Maxie Dunham and Eddie Fox.
Let me be perfectly clear: Protestors who purposefully disturb the process of conferencing to make a point do NOT speak for me. Likewise, Maxie Dunham, Eddie Fox, and others who seek to preserve our current stance by hook or by crook do NOT speak for me.
I long for a church that is bold enough to be a place where hard issues can be discussed openly and honestly. I long for a church that can tell the truth about its current reality of division and yet continue to strive for unity. I long for a church that doesn’t over-simplify issues to a choice between loving people and loving the Bible.
And I want those in both camps on this issue to be put on notice — I don’t think I’m alone in feeling this way. There are many like me who struggle in hope that our church can, in fact, overcome division through thoughtful dialogue. We believe that our true calling is much bigger than making a choice on a single issue. As Bishop Scott Jones reminded us, “We are sinners. God is still working on us.”
I remain hopeful in my hurt and frustration. It’s still Eastertide. And I’m reminded that if God is the God of Cross and Resurrection, then surely God is the God of the seemingly impossible — the same God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) who brought order to the waters of chaos at Creation. I will continue to faithfully serve my local church and next year I hope to be fully ordained into this often dysfunctional connection where, by the power of God, grace continues to abound.
For some odd reason, our General Conference debated the meaning of Romans 8 to determine if there was, in fact, anything that could separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. You’ll be glad to know that we voted nothing meant nothing. But you see, I knew that before they took that vote. I preach and teach that fact where I serve: Nothing can separate us from God’s love. I love my church members, gay and straight alike, because I still believe nothing can separate us from God’s love. I love those who continually frustrate me with their self-righteous platitudes and judgmental spirits because nothing can separate us from God’s love. And all of this is possible because of the mysterious gift of God’s love for me — and nothing can separate us from that kind of grace.