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Showing posts with label Believe Out Loud. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Believe Out Loud. Show all posts

Sunday, June 25, 2017

A Seat on the Bus: Sermon for Pride Sunday

3rd Sunday After Pentecost
Through the written word and the spoken word, may we come to know your living word. Amen.

I begin by offering my profound thanks to Mother Diana for the opportunity to reflect upon the word of God and the history of a movement with you today. She frequently refers to me as an “activist” which awakens some vague sense of guilt as I am not as active as I once was. From 2002 until 2014 I served with both The OASIS, our diocesan ministry to and with lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people, and Integrity, the churchwide LGBT advocacy group.

On the cover of your leaflet is a photo of the 2013 LGBT Pride March in New York. The march, which will take place later today, has been held on the last Sunday in June since 1969, commemorating the civil uprising that took place at the Stonewall Tavern that summer in response to years of systematic persecution of LGBT people by the police and mocking indifference from almost everybody else.




If you study the photo you’ll see familiar symbols: just about everybody you see is an Episcopalian or connected to the church in some way, and in fact the Episcopal Church is one of the largest single groups of participants in the March. On the banner in front and on the top of our float, barely visible a full city block away, are our church shield and the words “The Episcopal Church Welcomes You”.

That welcome was not and is not always something that could be counted on. In the summer of Stonewall, LGBT people in the church were pariahs like Hagar and her son in today’s first reading: they were perceived as a threat or dismissed as a joke, and not allowed to inherit the gift of community the church offered, unless they were willing to keep their relationships and very identity a secret. In 1974 a young English professor named Louie Crew… remember that name, if you don’t know it already… telephoned Grace Cathedral in San Francisco asking how he and his husband might meet other gay Episcopalians. The staff there laughingly passed his call around the office, making him repeat his question for their amusement. That encounter led him to start a network called Integrity which grew to be the de facto voice of LGBT people within the Episcopal Church.

There are many within the church, including within leadership, who believe with conviction that the six specific verses in scripture condemning same-gender behavior--what we in the movement call “The clobber passages”--take precedence over the broader themes of tolerance and justice found in the Gospels. As a result the process of claiming our place at the table is taking a long time and hard work by many people.

From 1976, issues of gender and sexuality have been the topic of conversation at all of the church’s triennial General Conventions, where clergy and laity from every diocese gather to steer the church forward. At that meeting, the church decided to begin ordaining women. The following year, an out lesbian, Ellen Barrett, was among the first women to be ordained as a priest. At the next convention, in 1979, the previous progress was overshadowed by a strong statement against such ordinations by the House of Bishops, drafted by Bishop Bennett Sims of Atlanta. Remember that name too.

Progress at the churchwide level continued in fits and starts. At his installation as Presiding Bishop in 1986, Edmund Browning proclaimed, perhaps prematurely, that “This church of ours is open to all. There will be no outcasts."

For many years, members of our own diocese, including members of this congregation if memory serves me, were among those marchers in New York. We drew international attention when we ordained the first partnered gay man, Barry Stopfel, in 1989. That move got Walter Righter, the retired bishop who ordained him, brought up on heresy charges by some of his peers which were not dropped until years later. Far from backing down, Righter proudly had HERETIC made up as his custom license plate.

Along with the Diocese of California--we in Newark were the first to have a specific ministry for lesbian and gay people, the OASIS, beginning in 1989. Special worship services were planned since people did not feel safe being out at church. Notice I did not say “LGBT” because inclusion of those groups has not evolved on the same timetable, and there are still many within the movement who do not feel we all belong under the same rainbow umbrella.

The tide of opinion really began to turn between the 1991 and 1994 conventions. During that time, some 30,000 Episcopalians in 1,100 congregations across the church participated in a parish dialogue about human sexuality which many said helped them to see gay and lesbian people--we’re still only at gay and lesbian, notice--as people rather than “an issue” As a result of this churchwide conversation, a “Statement of Koinonia” (fellowship) with gay and lesbian people drafted by our bishop at the time, John Shelby Spong, was signed by over 70 of his peers, including Bishop Sims, the same man who led the charge against ordination of openly gay and lesbian clergy! Sims said, “When I wrote that Pastoral Statement in 1977, I knew only one homosexual person up close. He scared me to death with his penetrating challenge that he was as complete a human being as I was.” He was talking about Louie Crew, the English professor who founded Integrity and later went on to serve on the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church. Today he lives not ten miles from this room and goes by Louie Clay, having taken the name of his husband Ernest of 40 years when they were legally married in 2013.

In 2003 the church made the news again when Gene Robinson, an out gay priest, was ordained the bishop of New Hampshire. He was not the first gay bishop: Otis Charles of Utah came out in 1993 while already seated, and Paul Moore of New York was posthumously outed by his daughter. But by choosing to consecrate him while already knowing that he is gay , the church again drew both criticism and praise from around the world.

As you probably know the Episcopal Church is part of a larger church, the Anglican Communion, which is somewhat symbolically overseen by the Archbishop of Canterbury in England. Some of the provinces of the church, notably Uganda and Nigeria, threatened to leave the communion as a result of Robinson’s consecration.

In response to this outcry, we in the Episcopal Church agreed somewhat reluctantly at the 2006 General Convention to "exercise restraint by not consenting to the consecration of any candidate to the episcopate whose manner of life presents a challenge to the wider church." Those of us who knew we presented the church with a challenge just by being in the room were strongly encouraged by Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts-Schori, and--in an unprecedented move--Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams to temporarily sacrifice ourselves in the name of unity. The Archbishop has no legislative authority outside the Church of England, but his presence and influence at that Convention was a sign of how close to coming apart he feared the Anglican Communion was.

However, we did not behave ourselves for long. In 2009, Mary Douglas Glasspool, an out lesbian, was ordained assistant bishop of Los Angeles. A significant number of congregations in the US and Canada then left their respective churches and created the Anglican Church in North America, an expression of conservative anglicanism which has not been formally recognized by the Communion. The foundations of the Episcopal church trembled again, but held.

Parishes and dioceses for many years performed home-grown rites for recognizing and blessing committed same-gender relationships, increasingly as civil marriage equality became the law of the land in more and more states beginning with Massachusetts in 2003. Finally, after numerous dioceses used a trial rite for blessing of a civil marriage for a number of years, General Convention in 2015 voted to make marriage equality available throughout the church, just days after the Supreme Court ruling, two years ago tomorrow, that brought marriage equality to every US state. There are still some dioceses and parishes which will not perform them but the practice has the official sanction of the church and in many congregations a wedding is a wedding, regardless of the genders of the couple..

That was a lot of information about the G and the L, now let’s talk briefly, I promise! about the B and the T, for bisexual and transgender. In 2012, the church finally began to recognize gender identity as another social justice issue that required prayerful work. The General Convention in that year resolved that being transgender was not in itself a barrier to ordination, and that the church must advocate for non-discrimination laws in the civil sector. In practice, transgender clergy have had a difficult time finding employment just as their sisters and brothers in the secular world struggle with job security. The poverty rate among the trans population is approximately four times that of the general populace.

Finally the B, where we have perhaps the most work to do. People who identify as bisexual make up the largest wedge of the LGBT pie, and yet are probably the least visible or understood. In 2014, a nonprofit organization called the Religious Institute published a workbook for people and congregations to begin increasing their literacy and creating welcome.

In the past ten years or so, a “Q” was sometimes added to LGBT, standing for queer. Once used mainly as an insult, the community has claimed and disarmed this word as an umbrella term for anyone whose combination of identity and attraction is not easily labeled. An increasing number of people, particularly young people, are resisting traditional norms and embracing a more fluid way of expressing themselves. If it wishes to remain relevant to them, the church needs to meet them where they are or at least hear their perspective.

In the meantime, all these lofty resolutions and decisions needed to be made real at home, in the parishes. In 2010, the Episcopal Church, by way of Integrity, joined 13 other denominations in the Believe Out Loud program which is intended to help congregations become more informed about issues of sexuality and gender and advocate more effectively for justice and equality.

Because LGBT inclusion came early to the Diocese of Newark, it has now somewhat faded from the forefront, and is perhaps even taken for granted by those who enjoy the benefits.,There were a few years when only a handful of us crossed the river to join the march, and response to the programs the OASIS offered has largely waned. This is not meant as an indictment of anyone. To some degree it means those early pioneers for justice succeeded in their work, and worthwhile issues like gun violence, the plight of the undocumented, refugees, hunger and housing insecurity all demand our attention as we seek to be Christ’s hands in a hurting world.

However, there is also overlap as race, culture and economic status bring a disparity in the degree to which our LGBT sisters and brothers enjoy welcome, safety and opportunity both in the church and the world. Paradoxically for those Christians who believe our faith calls us to seek justice for all God’s children, cultures which are heavily religious are often slower to offer acceptance.

Like the dire family apocalypse Jesus predicted in today’s gospel, some LGBT people find themselves abandoned or even betrayed by family and community when they need them most. Recently in Chechnya, over 100 gay men were recently rounded up by police, many turned in by relatives, and subjected to verbal and physical abuse. Around the world the disproportionate number of transgender women of color who die violently every year, their attackers rarely caught.

And right here at home, five of the 49 people who died in the Pulse nightclub massacre in Orlando last year were buried at the city’s expense, because their families, some of whom did not know the victims’ orientation or gender identity prior the attack, could not or would not plan their funerals. One father would not even claim his son’s body.

State legislatures, perhaps in a backlash to the Supreme Court ruling on marriage equality in 2015, have tried to enact new laws limiting protections and freedoms based on orientation or gender identity and expression. In over 50% of the states, being LGBT can still get you fired from your job. Sadly for people of faith, In many of these cases lawmakers cite “religious freedom” as grounds to perpetuate this discrimination. We as a population are more likely to fall victim to substance abuse and suicide, and our seniors, often without their own offspring to advocate for them, sometimes end up going back in the closet just to feel safe in retirement or nursing homes.

I realize that is a gloomy summation of where things are, but it serves to remind us that not everyone has found the love and safety we believe all God’s children deserve. There is plenty for which we can find joy as well. As I described, our own church has made tremendous strides to embrace LGBT people, as have a number of other mainline denominations. And earlier this month, the new Archbishop of Newark met a delegation of LGBT Catholics at Sacred Heart Basilica. There is much work to be done, but at least there has been dialogue.

In the wider world, out LGBT people are found in places of leadership in politics, the arts, business, and even professional sports. Schools, including the Bloomfield and Glen Ridge public districts, have gay-straight alliances and have adopted policies to ensure the fair treatment of transgender students. Our governor signed the first law in the country preventing parents from forcing conversion therapy on their kids. We find ourselves and our lives depicted increasingly in the media, sometimes even by actual LGBT people!

Here at Christ Church, a home was created for P-FLAG, an organization for the parents of LGBT children. Familiar symbols including the Believe Out Loud branding signal to passersby that this is a place where they are safe, welcomed, and celebrated. I am pleased that Christ Church has chosen to identify as a Believe Out Loud Episcopal Congregation and hope we can continue to explore together what that means in this time and place.

As Paul tells us today, in baptism, we all die to sin, just as Christ--who had no sin--died to sin, once for all. In our own tradition, we pledge at baptism to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving them as ourselves, and respecting the dignity of every human being. Each of us has our own struggles with that, I suspect, as we encounter people who challenge the way we’ve come to understand our world. Those of us who are LGBT know we can cause those feelings simply by being who we are, but that doesn’t stop us from having them about other people either. If we agree that sin is anything that separates us from God, I ask we all be aware of those times when we allow the prejudices we all carry to win out over that calling to love each other without condition.

Thankfully, in perhaps the greatest news in today’s lessons, we have the best possible teacher. No matter how we might excel at loving one another, current science cannot calculate how small a fraction that is of the reckless, shameless love our God has for each of us. Every hair on our heads is counted, the secrets our hearts are open and all our dreams known.

My prayer today, for all of us, is that we never stop learning about one another, hearing one another’s stories, wiping one another’s tears, sharing one another’s joy, and seeking to recognize each person we meet as the precious creation of God that they are. That we turn to one another and say, “I see you, heterosexual newlyweds, homeless gay man, bisexual woman, transgender artist, queer youth. I see you, widowed priest, Choctaw bishop, black attorney, wheelchair warrior. I see you, undocumented worker, frightened asylum seeker, grieving mother, struggling breadwinner. I see you, proud soldier, neglected veteran, dedicated policewoman, devoted teacher, autistic child. And when I see you, I see Jesus.”

Then, and only then, will the church become what Bishop Browning proclaimed we were and thus challenged us to become: a church where all are truly welcome as their authentic selves, and there are truly no outcasts.

Then and only then will our baptismal covenant be truly realized.

Then and only then will the cries of those on the margins due to their attractions or their appearance or their circumstances be heard like God heard Hagar and her son and find comfort and peace within our walls.

Then and only then will “pride” not be code for “solidarity” in a struggle that never seems to end.

Then and only then will we not have to remind people that our lives matter because it will be safe to assume that they know and agree.

Then and only then will our laws truly bring liberty and justice to all.

Then and only then will we reveal the face of Christ, no longer bloody but GLORIOUS, upon the earth.

This year the Pride March will be televised for the first time, but I will not be marching today. After over twelve years of work among leaders of the movement, many of whom were coping by varying degrees, with the battle scars of their own history, I experienced burnout and had to step aside and into the wilderness. But I have not given up. I frequently pass this forlorn-looking old double-decker bus on a used car lot in Belleville, and--perhaps as a sign I’m becoming one of those Crazy Christians that Presiding Bishop Michael Curry says we should be-- I never fail to spend the next few miles daydreaming how cool it would be to ride down Fifth Avenue on that bus, decked out with a huge banner saying the Episcopal Diocese of Newark welcomes you… just as you are”. In my dream we use it not just for Pride but for Memorial Day, Thanksgiving, Martin Luther King Day, or any time where the church needs to make a visible witness to the world.

I ask God’s blessing upon you, and upon your own dreams. And If I figure out a way to get that bus, I’m saving you a seat.  Amen.






SOURCES:


Thursday, November 25, 2010

The Christians and the Pagans

Clement - Bishop of Rome (100)

St. Anne's Morrisania
Photo by Chesley Kennedy
This past weekend, a handful of us journeyed northward at (for me) a crazy-early hour for a Saturday, to St. Anne's Episcopal Church in the Morrisania section of the Bronx.   The church is well over 100 years old, and -- as the name and suggests -- was the home and is now the resting place of Lewis Morris, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and his half-brother Gouverneur Morris, who is credited with writing its preamble.

Today the church's ample property is literally an oasis.  Surrounded by low-rise apartments and bodegas, the lumbering hill peppered with trees and ancient gravestones is one of the few green places for neighborhood kids to play.  The Mott Haven section of the Bronx is one of the nation's poorest, although it has enjoyed a significant drop in crime in recent decades.  The church's website speaks of the success of its after-school program, and the sprawling building was alive with activity for much of the day we were there.

The purpose of our visit was a workshop for congregations more seeking to be more welcoming of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people who might come in seeking a spiritual home.  As part of the Believe Out Loud program, The OASIS and Integrity are trying to encourage all area churches to learn about LGBT people's "issues" with the church and how to be sure everyone feels safe and included.

St. Anne's Morrisania
Photo by Chesley Kennedy
The turnout began with two panels of people from various backgrounds speaking about their faith journey and how they came to be involved in this work.  Being in an urban setting, some of these were not the same stories we hear in the suburbs.  We heard from both a mentor and a graduate of "The Church," a Saturday night outreach program for LGBT youth, many of them homeless or otherwise at-risk, who congregate in the West Village. This program offers workshops in art and dance, as well as access to health care and social workers, and a hot meal coordinated by a professional chef.  For many of them, being "out" in their families or neighborhoods is simply not an option for reasons of their actual safety.  The same day we were meeting, there was a rally and march in protest of recent gang-related violence in another part of the Bronx.  The brutal attack against a local man and two teenagers, which has been ruled an anti-gay bias crime, was yet another reminder that we were a long, long way from Christopher Street and the relative safety we take for granted.  Its organizer was another of our speakers:  Dirk McCall is the director of the Bronx Community Pride Center, which provides myriad services and activities for the region.

Then, on Monday night, I joined some local friends at the 20th Annual Pagan Thanksgiving, held this year at Halcyon in Montclair.  This tradition has grown from a rather haphazard gathering of friends (plenty of turkey and beer, not so much napkins or forks) at an Upper Mountain Avenue residence known as the Home for Wayward Garden Tools into a pretty lavish event.  The hosts provide turkey and ham; everybody else brings homemade side dishes (although I can report there was a run on the deli case at Whole Foods by folks toting their own Corningware to be filled.  Did we all suddenly become eco-friendly?).  A collection of both cash and non-perishables benefited the Human Needs Food Pantry.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Believing Out Loud

Matthew Shepard*

This past weekend, I was in Orlando, Fla., along with 300 other Christians from twelve denominations for the Believe Out Loud Power Summit.

Believe Out Loud is a cooperative effort between members of twelve Protestant denominations to identify and develop places of universal welcome (including gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people) among their member churches. To be identified as "welcoming and affirming" a congregation must have a conversation about what this means, deal with any discomfort that individuals or the group may have, and take steps to be visible and intentional about making anyone (including people of all affectional and gender identities) feel at home in God's house. Among these lessons, we discussed the kinds of assumptions even allies can make about a person's relationship status, gender, or attitudes.

Believe Out Loud is the product of unprecedented cooperation between a number of religious and secular organizations to get the word out that God loves everyone. The conservative camp has been far more coordinated in its message that the Bible condemns homosexuality as an "abomination" and thus Christians should do nothing that could be seen as promoting that "lifestyle". We learned important tips for how this conversation gets "framed" within themes that resonate with people, such as "traditional family values".

Among the moments that stood out for me was the sermon by the Rev. Debra Peevey, a minister in the Disciples of Christ. Rev. Peevey quotes the passage in the Book of Esther where the is implored to beseech the king to rescue her people from a decree of annihilation at the hands of the evil Haman:

"Do not think for a moment -- silently within yourself -- that within the king’s palace you are safer than any other Jew. But if you persist in silence in waiting at a time so crucial as this, the Jews will still be delivered, yes saved in another way, by another hand, but you and your family will pass away like a moment of truth turned away from. For you are only yourself for a reason and who can know if you were not brought splendidly into favor in the palace for such a moment like this—of action."
- ESTHER 4: 13-14


That passage can strike a chord, if we let it, with those of us who have "arrived". For folks in a diocese that was way out in front on this issue, it's very tempting for us to stand under that "Mission Accomplished" banner and Purell our hands. After all, over fifty percent of our congregations feel strongly enough about LGBT inclusion to financially support the work of our OASIS ministry to those communities, a model which has been replicated in four other dioceses around the country. We count among us clergy and people in leadership roles at all levels. We could easily sit in our churches and feel included and valued and blithely assume the same is true everywhere.

However -- as evidenced in the news and in the witness of some of the people I met this past weekend -- it's very clear that there is much more to be done. It's wonderful, and I won't discount it, that many of our churches are welcoming once someone is in the door, but that does no good to someone who doesn't know they are, and which ones are. If your congregation welcomes LGBT people, does it say so in your literature? On your website? From the pulpit?

This can feel scary. The topic of homosexuality, or sexuality at all for that matter, is still somewhat taboo in our church culture. We agree in principle with the notion that God loves all of us equally and calls us to do the same, but we really don't often go out on a limb for that belief in the public forum. We're not marchers and banner-wavers, generally, for ANY topic, preferring a place of comfortable moderation. We are not unkind, and we will write a check, but ask us to stick our necks out and we start to get itchy. To do so might unveil notions and discomforts we didn't know we had, and wouldn't it be better if we just sang the hymn, had some cake and went home?

As The Right Rev'd. Gene Robinson, the first out gay bishop in the Episcopal Church stated in his recent Huffington Post column, the recent string of violence against those who are LGBT or just fit the stereotype is a reminder that this truth is not yet evident to many of our brothers and sisters, and we are called to respond:

It is not enough for good people -- religious or otherwise -- to simply be feeling more positive toward gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people. Tolerance and a live-and-let-live attitude beats discrimination and abuse by a mile. But it's not enough. Tolerant people, especially tolerant religious people, need to get over their squeamishness about being vocal advocates and unapologetic supporters of LGBT people. It really is a matter of life and death, as we've seen.

I learned this in my dealing with racism. It's not enough to be tolerant of other races. I benefit from a racist society just by being white. I don't ever have to use the "n" word, treat any person of color with discourtesy, or even think ill of anyone. But as long as I am not working to dismantle the systemic racism that benefits me, a white man, at the expense of people of color, I am a racist. And my faith calls me to become an anti-racist -- pro-active, vocal, and committed.

- GENE ROBINSON, BISHOP OF NEW HAMPSHIRE


For some congregations, there is a position against being more vocally welcoming that goes something like this: "We don't want to become known as 'the gay church'". In other words, "we do not want to allow this one issue to define us as a faith community." That is understandable, but taking on one issue and really unpacking our notions and discomforts about it often leads to a greater awareness of ALL social issues and involvement in the community.

In a 2008 study of welcoming congregations by the Institute of Welcoming Resources:
  • Over half of the pastors of Welcoming congregations agreed that their work on LGBT issues made your congregation more active on other justice issues.
  • Just 7% of the respondents indicated that their congregants have difficultly talking openly about LGBT issues.
  • Less than a third (29%) reported any significant conflict within the congregation within the last two years. Among these, the most common sources of conflict were pastoral leadership, finances and worship, not homosexuality or gender identity.
  • Nearly three-quarters of the respondents disagreed with the statements, “Our congregation risks losing members by talking too much about homosexuality” (73%) and, “Becoming more welcoming to LGBT persons could hinder our congregation’s ability to reach racial/ethnic minorities” (72%).
From my own experience, having learned what it means to live into universal welcome, we as a congregation moved on to look at what other barriers we unknowingly put up against some members of our community. Five years ago we undertook to remove many physical obstacles from our building and added an individual gender-neutral restroom that can accommodate a wheelchair user and offers a private place to change a baby.

We have out gay and lesbian members, including in positions of leadership, and have had transgendered people visit us and feel welcome. But they are by no means the majority, and in fact most of the growth (yes, growth!) we've seen in the past few years has been heterosexual families, many of whom felt drawn to us because of the deliberately inclusive way we promote ourselves.

I am not trying to imply that we are perfect, but intentional inclusion has been a success story for us. I realize that much of what I said here will be "preaching to the choir," but when you look at the headlines, it seems obvious that those who believe God's love is universal need to be doing more, because the message our country is getting from the majority of religious voices is a destructive one, and it's having a deadly effect on our kids. Quoting a vocal proponent of inclusion, the Rev. Susan Russell, past present of the Episcopal Church's national LGBT organization (Integrity) whose blog is on my roll:

Thirteen- and fifteen-year-olds are not 'adopting a lifestyle,' they're trying to have a life! They're trying to figure out who they are, who God created them to be and what on earth to do with this confusing bunch of sexual feelings that they're trying to get a handle on. They need role models for healthy relationships -- not judgment and the message that they're condemned to a life of loneliness, isolation and despair.

- THE REV'D. SUSAN RUSSELL


If your congregation is "already there" on the issue of LGBT welcome, congratulations! I invite you to take the next step and add yourselves to the national Believe Out Loud database of welcoming and affirming congregations. If you have some work to do, there are workshops and educational materials on the site to help start the conversation. Who knows? You may save a life.

NOTE: I observe Matthew's anniversary on my personal "kalendar" in memory of all the LGBT victims of violence.

Monday, August 2, 2010

God Hates Religion?

Samuel Ferguson - First Black Bishop in the Episcopal Church & Missionary to West Africa (1916)

I don't care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.
- ATTRIBUTED TO GROUCHO MARX

There's a pretty good chance that you've heard by now that novelist Anne Rice has declared to the world that she is "no longer a Christian,” citing the “quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous” lot we have become, and saying that to count herself among us would mean she would have to declare herself “anti-gay … anti-feminist … anti-artificial birth control … anti-Democrat … anti-secular humanism … anti-science … anti-life.”

To quote Vic Ferrari: "Hard to get happy after that one."

Since the initial announcement, Rice has clarified repeatedly that this does not mean she is giving up on God; she still believes the same God those quarreling Christians purport to follow. She just can't do it in the same room with them anymore. This is different than the last time she walked away from the church; that time she declared herself an atheist, returning to the Roman Catholic faith several years later.

As CNN's Brian McLaren pointed out, this leaves the rest of us in kind of a conundrum:


"Her brief announcement raises lots of fascinating questions. For example, when a person quits Christianity in the name of Christ, what do you call that person? If Christianity means 'following Christ’s followers,' what do you call someone who wants to skip the middlemen?"


Semantics aside, it's a somewhat bitter pill to swallow, especially for those of us who have made universal inclusion a central part of our ministry. Apparently Ms. Rice has not heard of the Believe Out Loud initiative, a movement by seven mainline Christian denominations and a number of smaller ones, plus independent churches, secular organizations, and individuals to connect the LGBT community with congregations who have agreed and equipped themselves to welcome them.

She is also apparently unaware of, or chooses to tune out, the efforts many of us have made -- some of us at great personal sacrifice -- to help bring women closer to full equality both in the church and the world. The Episcopal Church ordained its first female priests in 1977 and its first female bishop in 1989. She also might not be familiar with the church's support for the UN's Millennium Development Goals, which prescribe the use of "non-natural" contraception and frank sex education to reverse the spread of HIV/AIDS, and all kinds of other science to improve the lot of billions of people around the world.

Apologies that I keep focusing on the Episcopal Church here for my examples, but she might also not know that our means of governance pretty closely parallels that of our democratic (at least in theory) nation, which is not a coincidence since many of the same people worked on setting them both up.

It would also be hypocritical for me to condemn Rice for her decision. I personally separated myself from the Roman Catholic church for fairly similar reasons in my late teens, attending only when family or a paid music gig required it, and did not find a new church home until shortly after 9/11. I don't blame the gay and lesbian people, Marxist graduate students, or anybody else who tells me they can't reconcile the message of inclusion I share with the images of Fred Phelps, Pat Robertson and all the others who use the Bible as a club to beat back those they perceive as undesirables from the gate. Some pretty rotten stuff has been done both by churches (including my own) and by individuals in God's name. And there really are verses in the Bible to which they can point and claim they are doing exactly as God instructed.

Even in "liberal" mainline churches like mine, there is still vast room for improvement. Our internal dirty laundry has been spread all over the world media for the better part of 25 years as we squabble over these issues. Maybe Rice's words sting because -- despite the progress I mention above -- there is more than a grain of truth to them. Even those of us on the "right" (by which I mean those who share my opinion, natch) side of these issues are guilty at times of looking at those who disagree with us as "the other" and maybe not worthy of our time. These problems would go away if only
they would. Except that -- in some cases -- they have, and we keep bickering nonetheless.

Rice is correct that the church, religion in general, is flawed. This is largely because it is a human construct, and thus flawed from the start. We behave the way we
think God wants us to... at least most of the time. But -- having little more than a very, very old book, cobbled together from scraps of parchment and oral history, then translated and truncated by people divinely inspired perhaps, but human nonetheless, as concrete evidence of what's expected of us -- we don't all get the same message at the end of the game of theological telephone. All of us -- Rice included -- share some responsibility for the result, something that is at times awful and other times wonderful, and even if she walks away she continues to shoulder that burden.

Viewed through that lens, it's somewhat amazing that we bumble forward even at the glacial speed that we do. But the fact is that there are still moments when we collectively deliver something that wouldn't be possible otherwise, such as the church's adoption of the ONE campaign to support the UN Millennium Goals when logic, experience and cynicism all tell us they are hopelessly optimistic. And grace happens at a much smaller, but no less important, scale every day thanks to hundreds of people who work together to make someone's life a little better, because -- at the crux of it -- that's what Jesus wants from us. We know that much for pretty certain. The rest of it is -- in my opinion -- best left to the suits.