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While the real-time General Conference of The United Methodist Church hath cometh and gone-eth, our Pragmatic Four still have a few things to wrap up before our storyline is over!
If you’ve been following along, our heroes have banded together to break Gen’l Confluence down into more manageable fights, affectionately known as regionalization! For today’s page, I wanted to convey the work done in real life to remove every instance of anti-LGBTQ language from the Book of Discipline.
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I wrote and re-wrote this page over and over, struggling to capture the tone of real events coupled with the full gamut of emotions these changes have brought for especially queer people and those who have worked hard to bring about our freedom in the church. For so many, the celebration has been mixed with other complex feelings. There is a sense of grief for those who, like Moses, did the work but didn’t get to see the other side. There is a sense of lament and confession for the silence, complicity, and open antagonism endured for so long. There is a sense of trepidation at the work yet to be done. But for all those mixtures of emotions, the sheer celebration of freedom in Christ necessarily must overshadow all else.
So I decided to tell this story today from two perspectives. From the mouths of John and Charles Wesley, I offer the prayer of confession which we say at Holy Communion, a confession that always ends in mutual pardon and table fellowship. I made the intentional choice of showing the celebration from a distance, because the truth is, no one experiences that freedom quite like those who have been set free. It is their story to tell, and therefore essential that we take the time to listen to the voices of queer Christians.
I was recently processing my sheer post-GC exhaustion with a good friend, who happened to also be a straight ally. The weight of possibilities before General Conference had held me down for months now, the fear that no matter how much I gave to God, to my denomination, to my church, to the community, I was still just incompatible with Christian teaching. And now, in just the course of a few days, all of that changed.
I’m still growing in my awareness of what that means for me ... and yet I was already worried about the aftermath and how people might lash out against the changes, or dig their heels in deeper against me, not even taking the time to know me.
As I was sharing this, my friend calmed my soul and said, “You’ve been drowning, Charlie. For so long you have been fighting in rough waters with no life raft. And it’s not even been a whole week since someone threw you a float. You don’t have to brace for the next fight. Just allow yourself to float for a change. Allow yourself to be free. Learn who you are without the millstone around your neck. Let those of us who have been on the boat do the fighting for you. At least until you’ve gotten used to this new reality.”
I needed to hear that. I belong to the Body of Christ, after all, and there are so many members of the body who have worked hard already to insist I belong. If you are one of those members and an ally, take time to listen to queer people of faith. We all have different stories. This is just a taste of mine.
Find out what we need from you in our churches, our districts, our conferences, and please stand with us. If you are one of those members of the Body and are yourself a queer person of faith, allow yourself the space and time you need to embrace the fullness of God’s love for you. Perhaps you’re a fast healer and you’re ready to get out there and do hard work for meaningful change, but it’s absolutely okay if you’re not. It’s okay if you need time and space to trust this new reality, to trust true belonging, to trust even yourself.
1 Depth of mercy! Can there be
mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God His wrath forbear?
me, the chief of sinners, spare?
2 I have long withstood His grace,
long provoked Him to His face;
would not hearken to His calls,
grieved Him by a thousand falls.
3 I my Master have denied;
I afresh have crucified,
oft profaned His hallowed name,
put Him to an open shame.
4 There for me the Savior stands,
shows His wounds and spreads His hands.
God is love! I know, I feel;
Jesus weeps, but loves me still!
5 Now incline me to repent,
let me now my fall lament;
now my foul revolt deplore!
weep, believe, and sin no more.
–Charles Wesley, 1740