Tears of Sadness Amidst the Good News of General Conference

Commentary

by

Special to United Methodist Insight

As the ugliness spilled out onto the floor of General Conference 2019 in St. Louis I felt relief. An odd reaction to be sure. The votes just taken had confirmed that not only did the majority of delegates affirm the harmful language in the United Methodist Book of Discipline condemning homosexuality, they wanted more restrictions put into place.

Why the relief? I think perhaps because we were, for the first time, publicly telling the truth. I was sick unto death of the Unity Statements and other efforts to put a good face on the brokenness that has been the United Methodist Church for these last many years.

The boil finally lanced, perhaps some kind of healing could begin.

And now, the actions of General Conference 2020 (2024) are full of grace. The harmful language is being removed. Regionalization is passing. “The bullies are no longer walking the halls” says one report. And I feel deeply sad.

Again, what an odd reaction. So much of what we have struggled for, for over fifty years, is coming to pass. One would think, I would think, I would be feeling great joy. And yes, of course, I am profoundly glad.

I am glad for the children who will be born into the United Methodist Church from this day forth without ever hearing the words that their very being is “incompatible with Christian teaching.”

I am glad for the colleagues, and their loved ones, who may now live openly without fear of being put on trial – put on trial – for daring to love someone of the same gender, or to celebrate the love of others wanting to publicly declare their same-gender love through the sacrament of marriage.

I am glad that gifted pastors seeking ordination will no longer have to struggle over whether they can, in good conscience, take vows to support church laws that they know to be wrong.

And yet, I grieve.

I grieve for those, and their loved ones who contemplated or who actually committed suicide, at least in part, because the message they received from their faith community was that they were not worthy.

I grieve for the gifted pastors who left, or were removed, from ministry because of their sexual identity or for daring to celebrate the weddings of the LGBTQ+ members of their congregations.

I grieve for those who never entered a church door because they could not trust that they would be safe. How many people yearning for love, for community, for a word of hope, have failed to hear that word because of our sin of exclusion?

I grieve to think of the huge amount of creativity and energy that went into fighting this battle.  As the injustices of poverty, hunger, and racism begged for our time and energy. As an epidemic of loneliness and a gospel of greed overtook our society. How much credibility did the prophetic voice of our church lose as the headlines so frequently highlighted our battles over sexuality?

I pray the day will come when I see the new possibilities that now exist in the church of my birth. But for tonight, the tears flow as I survey the bloodied bodies on a battlefield that never needed to be.

I give thanks for the comrades who stood shoulder to shoulder fighting the battle that was given to us as ours to fight. Your love, your courage, your prophetic vision, your words of grace have been a gift beyond measure.

And so tonight, as I sit with the swirl of emotions, the faint outline of the One I have always sought to follow, emerges once again with an invitation to follow. There is so much to be done.  And whether it be with sadness or with joy, or more often with a combination of both, I pray for the strength and the courage to answer in the affirmative. “Yes Lord, send me. Yes Lord, send me.”   

The Rev. Kathryn Johnson is a retired clergy member of the New England Annual Conference of The United Methodist Church and former executive director (1998-2010) of the Methodist Federation for Social Action.