In The Book of Joy, Archbishop Desmond TuTu speaks of making visceral decisions. That morning I was called to make a gut wrenching choice to no longer associate with The United Methodist Church. Sadly, that means my home church which carries the UMC name on the sign. I love these local people of faith who work together in our community to serve and support. During my years of dealing with cancer, they helped me with prayers, cards, calls, visits, food - their encouragement was a special gift! These loving people that offered me comfort and friendship would not have voted this way, but the local congregation is not an autonomous entity. The buildings, land, endowments are all owned by the UMC worldwide organization. I sent messages to my pastors and Bible study leader to explain my absence and sent a message to our business administrator to stop our bank draft tithe. Leaving this part of weekly habits behind feels heartbreaking, but necessary. My core values instruct that words and actions must match. For me to be a practicing Christ follower, I cannot worship in a place that is owned and named UMC, for to me and many others on the “outside” that now represents exclusion and judgement instead of love.
Some friends from church have encouraged me to wait, to not do anything rash, to follow the new pastor, to work for change from within, to see it as “interesting” how events play out. Since I do not know how much life I have left, I cannot wait on offering love, to everyone. I did not carry out a rash idea of graffiti on all the signs, blotting out UMC with rainbow paint - although I did see reports on Twitter and Facebook of congregations in Dallas and Austin who decorated on that next Sunday March 3rd with rainbow bunting to drape their columns and signs and offered dissenting opinions in their responsive readings. Meeting the new pastor, watching his first sermon online, and reading his personal declaration of opposition to the vote is encouraging. Perhaps he will be able to be a leader in changing from within to a new, fully inclusive church. I hope to live long enough to see this change.
So where do I worship in the future? Well, I know that God is not limited to the confines of a building or a denomination. So I have lots of options: the lake, the park, The Cathedral of Hope, the Presbyterians, in my home or someone else’s...
The season of Lent is upon us, the forty day period that spans from Ash Wednesday through Easter. It is supposed to be a time of prayer and contemplation. Some people choose to give up something in order to draw closer to God. In the past I have given up beer, Facebook, sweets, cheese and have done the clean out and donate plan of 40 items in 40 days. This year I had planned to give up chocolate, but instead I am giving up church.
Dear God, as our hearts are broken please make us more capable of love. Amen.
Reading The Bible and certain blog posts helped my mind this week. The verses of I Corinthians 13 resonate, here is verse 1.
“I may be able to speak the languages of human beings and even of angels, but if I have no love, my speech is no more than a noisy gong or a clanging bell.”
1 Corinthians 13:1 GNBDC
Here is a link to Cindy Ryan’s post. She is my former pastor, now retired.
https://drcindyryanblog.com/2019/03/05/this-is-my-brother/amp/?__twitter_impression=true
This is a quote from a writer who was speaking out against racism. She is the adoptive mom of biracial children.
Where we stand changes what we see.
Changing what we see changes how we think.
Changing how we think changes what we do.
If I'm proposing anything, it's that we move our bodies toward the pain points throbbing around us. Amid the small things that weave into life as we know it, (for me, packing a suitcase, chopping asparagus, folding laundry, and writing a book endorsement) let’s consider where we're standing, who we're standing with, and what reorienting ourselves might cost us.
Here in the tempest breath of March, staring at the winter sun, may our addictions to comfort, niceness, and fantasy scorch into husks and blow away. May this be the moment we truly begin to see.
From blog post, Shannan Martin Writes, Wednesday March 6, 2019, Resisting Miss Daisy
