Why I wouldn’t want to attend an "open and affirming" church

A few opening words. First, the title of this blog was intentionally worded to elicit an emotional reaction, and I'm betting it did its job for most of you. Before you read further, take a moment to register what your initial thoughts and feelings were upon reading the title. Tuck that away in the back of your mind, and keep reading.

Second, this blog is one I think I meant to write years ago. I did write something that was a pitiful attempt at this, but it was clumsily conceived and written, and it hurt some people. For that I am sorry. This entry is an attempt at an apology and a rewrite. Hopefully this time, what I meant to say will come through more clearly.

With the disclaimers out of the way, I should warn you that if you do not share the basic assumptions I am working with, reading this blog is pointless. So let's get that straight from the get-go, OK? Here are the givens on which my thoughts depend:

• Homosexuals are members of the body of Christ
• Heterosexuals who support LGBT rights are members of the body of Christ
• Heterosexuals who do not support LGBT rights are members of the body of Christ

If you disagree with any of those statements, or think that any one of them is more important than the others, you should proceed with caution, or at least keeping in mind that we might not see eye-to-eye on our basic assumptions. Also, I've had to simplify my categories for the sake of brevity—I am fully aware that there are heterosexuals who do not think homosexuality is a sin but who do not support gay marriage, and that there are plenty of other in-betweens. Forgive me the lack of nuance, and if you don't seem to fit into one of the three groups above, I'd be more than happy to talk with you more individually if you so desire. My thoughts on this subject are continually developing, and I have much to learn.

I also want to say upfront: homosexuality is not an "issue." It has to do with people. And we aren't just talking about behaviors—we're talking about identities. Heterosexuals on both sides of the "issue" (there I go already) sometimes forget that.

So let’s get down to business, shall we? Back to the title of my blog. I would not want to attend an "open and affirming" church. To begin to articulate my thoughts on this, I'll share a bit about one church with which I am fairly familiar. It's a large, mainline Protestant church, historically white and upper-middle-class but recently becoming wonderfully diverse in many ways. There are a number of members who are gay, but the church has not declared itself "open and affirming."

Recently, a few people (who I believe were relatively new to the congregation) began to lobby the pastor to make this move. The pastor dissuaded them. Why? Because if that church were to be branded "open and affirming" or "gay friendly," the one or two members staunchly opposed to homosexuality would come out in full force, and deeply hurtful things would be said. Right now, the church is doing fine at welcoming gays, whether every single member knows it or not. To declare the congregation "open and affirming" would divide the church more than it would unite it.

A similar thing happened with my campus ministry group a few years before I got to college. The LGBT center was asking various organizations to make themselves known as "safe places" by putting stickers from the center on their office doors. Despite the fact that my campus minister and many of the group's members are vocal allies, they decided against it because they did not want to make people who disagreed feel unwelcome. Think about it—if you proclaim yourself "open and affirming," how much meaningful conversation will you have in-house on the topic that isn't one-sided?

See, it's not that I’m opposed to a church being open and affirming in deed. It's just that I wonder what is lost when a church takes the road of declaring itself as such. There are people in my life whom I would miss very much from my congregation if that happened. Some voices would be emboldened, but others would be lost completely.

I once went to a worship service that was so LGBT-friendly that I felt out of place—the songs were all about love in many forms, the vestments were rainbow-colored, even the communion bread had been made with an array of food dyes. I'll admit it—I was uncomfortable. I wasn't even sure I should be there.

The thing is, even though I was personally uneasy in that worship service, it was a truly beautiful event. All around me were people who had been hurt or disenfranchised by society and even by the church, and suddenly they were empowered, they were loved, they knew that at least in that time and that place, they were members of the body of Christ. My own discomfort paled in comparison to the joy and hope I saw in that room. And I couldn't help but think: the way I feel now—some of these people feel that way all the time.

Here's the part where I need help. What the heck are we supposed to do about this? The problem that I recognize in my own argument about avoiding the "open and affirming" stamp is that it can easily be misconstrued to mean, "don't ask, don't tell." But how can we be members of the same body if we don't understand each other? How can we bear one another's burdens if we don’t know what those burdens are?

There's another point I want to make that's going to be tricky to articulate, but I think it's important, so allow me to try. I've heard several gay friends and acquaintances of mine tell me that part of their struggle is that they don't want their lives to be defined by one issue (because even if we acknowledge what I said earlier—that it's not an "issue," it's about people—the world makes it an issue for us). Neither should an issue define our faith. Part of why I was so uncomfortable in the worship service I described earlier is that I feel very strongly that worship is not about us; it's about God. Worship shouldn't be about celebrating gayness—neither should it be about celebrating American-ness (which is why I don't like singing patriotic hymns in church), wealth (which is why the "prosperity gospel" is no gospel at all), racial identity (oh good grief that's a whole other can of worms, not now, please), or any other human quality.

By the way...let me briefly unpack my 3 givens from the beginning of the post. Too often we forget that saying someone is a member of the body of Christ does not mean that you agree with everything they say or do. At the 2008 General Conference of the United Methodist Church, a group tried and failed to change the wording of the paragraph in the social principles about homosexuality. Contrary to what you might have gathered from the intense anger of the opposition, the change would not have condoned homosexuality. What it would have said was that we must acknowledge that many intelligent, faithful people have examined the Bible, church tradition and the issue itself, and they have come down on both sides. The question here in my blog is not the whether homosexuality is right or wrong. I rarely debate that subject anymore, because honestly, I have yet to be thoroughly convinced by anybody one way or the other. I've heard people use the exact same Bible passages to argue opposite points, and at least for me the question has worn out its welcome. I don't want to know whether the church can come up with the perfect answer to every question. I want to know what the church is going to do in the face of uncertainty and disagreement.

A friend of mine (who is gay) once told me that although it's fine for people to disagree theologically with homosexuality, it is never OK to hate. The crucial point here, which far too many people miss, is that disagreement and hatred are not correlative to each other. We can be a part of the body of Christ without being on exactly the same page on everything, if only we can remember that our focus is on God and that the only way we can be healed is by working together towards understanding, not by issuing ultimatums.

So. Can you be gay and be a Christian? Yes. Can you support gays in their sexual identity and lifestyle choices and be a Christian? Yes. Can you hold the belief that homosexuality is a sin and be a Christian? Yes.

In closing, let me ask you to recall that first emotional reaction to the title of my blog. Did you assume I was anti-gay? Did that offend or affirm you? Did your assumptions prior to reading this blog color my status in your mind as a member of the body of Christ—or not? We all need help being Christians. None of us have it right. "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." All means all.