Because I'm lucky? Or just dumb. . . .

So today’s news from the United Methodist Church has left me feeling shitty. 

I first realized the significance of the General Assembly, or whatever it is, a couple of weeks ago when my dad saved the Star Telegram article for me to read about the pending LGBTQ drama. I dismissed it.  I was honestly a little irritated.  Why is my dad trying to harsh my mellow? 

We’ve been feeling slowly but surely more and more confident that Open, the community where we have started to worship, is as place where we can settle in and settle down, a place that we feel safe in, a place where we can begin to share with our daughter what a spiritual community is all about.  So when my dad gave me the article, I thought—that’s irritating.  And it’s not my community.  Because my community is very clearly and OPENly committed to creating a welcoming space.  And not just a welcoming space, but a space that is not preoccupied with sexuality.  It’s a space that is preoccupied with radical love and acceptance and social justice and making the world a better place.  It’s a cool place.  So no thanks, Dad, I’m not gonna read that article. 

But it stayed in my car.  I didn’t get around to throwing it away. 

And then in worship I heard that there was a delegate from Open going to the convention.  Or whatever it is.  The lingo wasn’t important to me and neither was the fact that we were sending someone.  I came up in a different denomination, and gratefully, I came up in a household where I mostly didn’t have to fight internalized homophobia.  And since my dad was my preacher, I haven’t ever been worried about how God was doing with me either. 

And since my dad was a preacher, I also have always been keenly aware that The Church is a fucked up place.  Just like the people who make up that human institution.  I don’t mean fucked up like unforgiveable.  I mean fucked up like we are all human.  We are fallible.  Churches are fallible.  And denominations are most certainly fallible.  And in my book, denominations are relatively unimportant (thanks to the Disciples of Christ for indoctrinating into me the unimportance of denominations, right?). 

And then two nights ago, a couple of Facebook friends shared a video of a young guy at the conference or whatever it is, giving an impassioned plea to the people in the massive room that he was a valid and righteous human being and important to the church. 

Melissa, my wife, overheard it.  It was clearly a powerful video. But the power was lost on us.  We aren’t into denominational politics.  We are barely into church.  We are VERY into social justice and being living examples of what it is to embrace humanity with compassion and kindness and that’s pretty much what we think the story of Jesus is about.  We each have some deep feelings (and thoughts) about spirituality and our unique experiences don’t always reflect the other’s experience.  But we get that God, the Goodness in this world, is out there and we know that God, the Goodness in this world, finds us to be good and our love for one another and our relationship with one another to be a sacred love.  We know this.  We’re not worried about it. 

We also know that we live in a stupid and fucked up world that thinks other things about our love and our relationship.  We know that Norah’s second grade teacher encouraged her to lie to her friends about having two moms, that she had a mom and a step mom (which she doesn’t), because it’s just easier for them to understand that.  We know that we got rejected from several daycares because when we were looking I insisted on scheduling the appointment at a time that my wife could come.  We know that our well-intentioned neighbor felt compelled to tell us when we moved in that she checked with the whole neighborhood and everyone seems to be “cool with the situation” at our house.  So this whole thing with the United Methodist Church seemed kind of boring.  And really, we’re over it.  Yes the whole world is full of people who are homophobic assholes.  Just like it’s full of racist assholes.  And many more idiots as well.  But we keep on keeping on, doing our kind and compassionate thing, staying true to the Goodness in this world, being who we are.  And we didn’t spend much time thinking about that video of that gay guy who is mad at his denomination because they’re just like all of the other assholes out there. 

And then more and more things started showing up in my feed on FB about this UMC thing.  And so I thought I would inform myself.  And I started reading articles.  I am still unsatisfied with the information I have been able to glean, because I generally don’t concern myself with denominational politics.  What does it matter anyway?  I’m going to a cool church . . .

What does this mean?  The Traditional Plan . . . sounds like it means that the denomination of the United Methodist Church is taking a very loud stance on gay people.  People in same sex relationships can’t be preachers in their churches because god isn’t cool with that.  And people can’t get married in their church if it’s a same sex marriage because god isn’t cool with that either. Who cares.  I didn’t need the United Methodist Church to get married or to know that God is cool with me.  There are plenty PLENTY PLENTY of churches that are wrong.  So the United Methodist Church is another wrong church.  Why do I care? 

Well here’s the thing.  And the reason why I needed to write this. 

I do care.  I care because I have a daughter.  She has brown skin and curly hair; she is multiracial; she is adopted; she is highly sensitive; she is smart; she is an only child; she lives in a house with two moms and has a relationship with her birth mom, giving her three moms.  She’s got a lot of stuff in her life that make her unusual.  And in this world, being unusual presents challenges, at best; but often times it presents barriers.  Being unusual can be a reason to be attacked.  Or killed. 

So I have this challenge in my life and that is to give her all the tools I can possibly give her to BE in this world.  I want her to be a kind and compassionate person who is preoccupied with social justice.  And I think my wife and I, with the help of our amazing families and cool neighbors and good teachers, are on the right track. 

And I was so excited to finally find a place of worship, a spiritual community, that could join us in this endeavor-- our family endeavor to make the world be a better place by being “Three Girls (who) Can” by being proud and strong and fearless, by knowing that in our differences we are beautiful and we are better for being different.

And now I am being challenged.  I cannot bring my child into a worshipful place that is supposed to be about focusing on the Goodness in this world, that is supposed to be about focusing on God, when that place doesn’t feel safe.  I know The Church is not a place.  But the place we go to is a place.  And it is located in the First United Methodist Church in Denton.  And I now know that the First United Methodist Church in Denton shares the name with  a movement that says that god is not cool with me or my wife or our family.  And yes I know that’s a lie.  And I know you still love me.  But we can’t do this like this.  We need to be in a place that has absolutely no affiliation with that kind of hatred.  Because that’s not focusing on the Goodness in this world.  It’s distracting from the Goodness in this world. 

And then I realize that I do care about this issue.  In fact, I am angry.  I feel betrayed.  Suckerpunched.  Like I’m so stupid for sticking my neck out again.  For thinking that I could worship again.  That I could be a part of something again.  Because this world is so chock full of idiots and assholes that I can’t even find the Goodness in this world because I’m busy trying to see over the heads and shoulders of all those people.  It doesn’t feel safe anymore.  It feels shitty. 

My family and I are cool with us and we are cool with God.  We know there is Goodness in this world.  I am not sure we are going to keep looking for it at church.