I have wrestled this past week with this prompt because I had several competing narratives that were jockeying for expression. One is deeply theological yet very meaningful to me, the other is very personal. I have opted for the latter. 6 years ago I had a profound experience that was a culmination of several years of tension, discernment, and searching. I was in a friend’s kitchen reading an email written by the mother of a gay teenager who recently came out to her. Her words were both deeply tender and heart-wrenchingly honesty about that experience. But more than anything, it was a confession of her own guilt and a cry to be absolved of her judgement toward her son. She described her change of heart and eventual journey to embrace her son and ask for his forgiveness despite how his orientation disturbed her faith convictions. As I ready these words, something in me surrendered and broke loose. Despite my own reservations and internal tensions, the Grace of her story released the last vestige of my years-long hesitations of fully embracing my LGBTQ friends. It came like a baptism – as if the last violence was been wrung out of my heart like a dirty sponge and suddenly my heart had expanded to a new capacity. And I wept – no longer out of fear, shame and anxiety but in the awe and gratitude of a greater love.
A year later, the resolution that came to be so living and real for me had also taken root in the hearts of the leadership of the faith community in which I serve. As elders and staff leadership we announced the beginning of our new commitment toward full inclusion for the LGBTQ community. It was a remarkable season of life and leadership for church that hails from the evangelical tradition. We said goodbye to some dear friends and welcomed many more – some who had already been in our midst and others who courageously dared to jump in. It was a time of loss, grief, confession, and it hurt to lose beloved friends. But, more than anything else, it was a time of expansion and new life. I had feared so long that I was on a slippery slope of compromise and therefore my vocation and reputation would be forever diminished. Instead, everything arose and widened. First my heart, then my faith, my friendships, my experience of community, and finally my vision for the possibilities of God’s inclusive kingdom. Inclusion begets inclusion and, for me, stirred and raised the tides of grace and goodness in my world. Recalling this story reminded me of a few lines from one of my favorite Theologians Pierre Theilhard de Chardin, “Remain true to yourself, but move ever upward toward greater consciousness and greater love! At the summit you will find yourselves united with all those who, from every direction, have made the same ascent. For everything that rises must converge.
6 comments
This is a powerful reflection, Dave, and one that really resonates with me personally and professionally. I’m struck by how one parent’s response spoke to your spirit… how that story was an agent of grace in your life, and then in the lives of LGBTQ people and others in your church community. Just watching the interaction above between you and Vanessa, it seems like there’s a power in you also choosing to share your own story here.
Dave, thanks for sharing this important part of your journey with us. It’s clear that you have counted the cost along the way of moving towards a more open and expansive understanding of God and your neighbor/brother/sister. I wonder, like the Psalmist, how long will it be this way? I love the book of Acts and the evidence of God’s Spirit as confirmation to move in a certain direction. Grateful you’re following the fruit and evidence of God at work even across your own previously held “boundaries”.
Thank you for sharing! I’ve gone through my own process of wrestling with my theology in this area, and my church is just beginning to engage the conversation together. I’m helping to figure out what this process will look like so I’d love to hear more from you about the process your church went through.
Thanks Vanessa. Im be curious to learn more about your experience. I am happy to share more as well. Let’s connect.
Dave. Thank you for wrestling this week…and for choosing to write this one. There isn’t a peacemaker I know who hasn’t sacrificed reputation among their communities of origin in order to step more fully into the restorative revolution. The question that lingers with me, though, is this: what does peacemaking require of me back in the direction of those who canceled me because their theology had no space for the grace that you speak of?
Thank you, Jer. Yes, that question has been ever-present since the beginning of the journey. Remarkably, the public process of our announcement toward full-inclusion occurred in January, 2017 – the same month that the Trump was sworn into office. The political / idealogical divisiveness was at a fever pitch. Within the church leadership we came to the decision toward inclusion despite the fact that not everyone in leadership had come to the same conclusions on LGBTQ affirmation. There was consensus within leadership that this was the right step but not everyone agreed to the point that we could universally affirm LGBTQ relationships. And, for that reason, we chose the language of “full inclusion” over “full affirmation”. We chose unity over uniformity. This posed a bit of a tension for those on both sides of the discussion… We wanted those who identified as LGBTQ to know that they would be seen and dignified in our community and we were clear that they could serve, lead and be “out” at every level of leadership AND they could be married in our community. Yet, we also wanted to include those who disagreed and/or were still I process re: what they thought. We wanted to work toward Unity over and beyond Uniformity. We wanted to live with that holy tension that seemed so difficult for our greater culture to do. So, to respond to your important question, I am learning that peacemaking requires that I am generous, patient, curious, and inclusive back toward those who who have rejected me or my convictions. This is certainly not safe for anyone (especially for my queer friends). But, I think it’s better than division, judgment, condescension, etc…