I’ve been over the religious side of my upbringing and adult life on this blog a few times. To recap: I was raised Roman Catholic and I received the sacraments of Baptism (infant), Penance (2nd grade), Holy Communion (2nd grade) and Confirmation (8th grade – age 13) in the Catholic church. During that time, since I was primarily a child, I had little understanding of what it meant to be Christian or, in a broader sense, religious.
Fast forward 6 years past high school when I married my now ex-husband. We were married in a Lutheran church that his parents had been members of for years and that he was also a member of – though not quite in the standing that they were. As he and I moved through our lives and had a child, we were pressured by family to “do right” by the child, join a church, and have him baptized. We, after attending classes, joined a Lutheran church in our local area when “The boy” was three. We had him baptized when he was four.
Over the next several years, we attended services at that church fairly regularly. Though it was quite a large congregation (700+ “members” and many, many non-member regulars), the church got involved in little outside it’s four walls. They administered to the members, but nothing more. I always felt like something was missing.
Around the time the boy turned 9, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (Missouri Synod) was undergoing a seismic shift in thinking. They were trying to decide whether homosexuals would be welcomed in the church and into the clergy. The question would eventually split the church. At the very same time, I was coming to the realization that I was, in fact, gay. As the church struggled (and continues to struggle) with the “gay question”, I was struggling with my own identity. I would eventually divorce and ultimately quit attending services at a church where I no longer felt comfortable both as a lesbian and a Christian despite their eventual stance to be more welcoming as the church that I attended fell into the “for” camp division.
I’m a Christian, yes. Am I a Bible thumping Christian? No. Do I profess the word of God to all whom I meet? No. I’m one of those Christians that lives in a glass house. I don’t, as a result, throw stones. I know that just the fact that I will admit to being Christian is a total turn off to many of my gay and lesbian brothers and sisters. So be it. We all live our lives as we feel we ought to live them. As long as you live by some sort of moral code that keeps you from performing acts of theft, dishonesty or violence; you’re probably going to be okay with me. My standards aren’t incredibly high. I only seek the basics.
A couple of months ago, I was working only part time for my now full-time employer and I was getting less hours as their busy season was winding down. My eBay sideline business was slow too so I started looking for a part time job to supplement my income. Shockingly, I found that “job” with an “Open and Accepting” United Church of Christ (with a very small congregation) not far from my home. At the very same time I accepted a position with them, my part-time employer offered me a full-time position in another function within the company. I decided to accept both. I’m so glad I did.
With my full-time job, I found the income I needed to meet my obligations without having to pound away at eBay during my off hours. With the position at the church, I found extra income to give us that little boost to do for our families and friends, but I also found a church family that was welcoming, accepting of not only members of the LGBT community but many others, friendly and activist in ways that a Christian based organization should be. They do work out in the community in support of the community. So far, in 2.5 months with them, I’ve seen continuous support of the food pantry, the collection and assembly of cleaning kits for flood victims, work on behalf of AIDS fundraising, a Thanksgiving meal for the homeless and so much more. They are “boots on the ground” in Army speak, in a way that neither the church I grew up in nor the church of my first marriage ever was. Other UCC congregations in this area are much the same.
The UCC used to be a mainline denomination. Because of the Open and Accepting policy stance they’ve taken, and the general aging of the population, they’ve lost many thousands of members over the last several years. It doesn’t seem to matter. As I’ve shown, this church practices what they preach. Their acceptance and love for all isn’t the end of it. It’s only the beginning. I haven’t officially joined the church yet, but I will be joining. I’ve already decided that. Cast your stones my brothers and sisters that cannot accept that.
For those of you who can accept that being gay and Christian are not mutually exclusive; for those of you that can accept that some of us do believe in a higher power (Christian or otherwise) even if you don’t necessarily agree, I give you this book written by Cadace Chellew-Hodge, a former journalist now a UCC pastor: Bulletproof Faith: A Spiritual Survival Guide for Gay and Lesbian Christians. Pastor Chellew-Hodge is also the editor and publisher of Whosoever.org, an oline magazine for GLBT Christians.
Here is a review (and synopsis) of the book from Publisher’s Weekly:
Chellew-Hodge, a former journalist, is a UCC pastor who runs the online magazine Whosoever.org. Her experiences as a gay Christian searching for how to live with integrity while contending with sometimes hateful opposition inform this book. The “spiritual survival tips” that conclude each chapter serve not only as summaries but also as direct points of advice for GLBT persons coping with inevitable conflict. She also includes brief meditation exercises. Chellew-Hodge offers a realistic voice of experience filled with compassion and love—not just for her intended audience but also for their attackers. Although some may find her impulse to forgive premature, Chellew-Hodge does not naïvely excuse much less accept the abusive language and behavior of antigay Christians. This is not a book explaining relevant Bible passages and their interpretations, though Chellew-Hodge advocates biblical literacy beyond literalism. Instead, it is a confident, sensible approach to handling the opposition and self-doubt that can undermine a GLBT person’s sense of worth and belonging as a Christian. (Oct.) (Publishers Weekly, August 11, 2008)
I really don’t need to expound on the book any more than that. My views, as stated above are clear. If you’re interested, if you need the help, here it is.
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