When I was a pastor my “walk off” prior to the benediction often included a challenge to the congregation to “expect always the unexpected and anticipate miracles, knowing that with God all things are possible.” Earlier this year I had one of those unexpected but certainly divine appointments. One of the other people who stood at the particular intersection of Presbyterian angst was John Stanger.
John is an Austin Seminary-educated Texan living in Manhattan, an organizer for mission and advocacy for Presbyterian Welcome which is an organization that supports LGBT people in their quest for ordination in the PCUSA. John identifies as queer, a term he is seeking to re-purpose, and he recently preached at the More Light Presbyterian national event in Tucson, Ariz.
Our lunch in New York earlier this year made its way into the sermon:
At the beginning of the summer, on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, a setting 14-year-old ranchers’ son John Russell could have never dreamt he’d reference in a sermon, I had lunch with Mieke Vandersall, my boss and warrior queen for all us queer future pastors, and Carmen Fowler LaBerge, executive editor of the Layman, a publication that serves the interests of far-right Presbyterians. (You may have heard of it.)
Y’all, this lunch felt about as bizarre as it sounds. And, then … Not.
I sat at the table with Carmen and Mieke, and listened to two women leaders—something that wouldn’t have happened just decades ago—connect over their shared experiences as heads of organizations in their respective movements.
Over that shared meal we each clarified what was really important to our ministries, what excited us, frustrated us, saddened us. It was one of those moments where genuine conversation and dialogue rise above abstract politics and theologies. It was the kind of experience that reminds me the Spirit is alive and well … And very mysterious.
In all our sharing, one thing pierced through my cynical generalizing about the far right in the church. Carmen told us that many conservative Presbyterians now relate more to other conservative Christians, than they do to most Presbyterians. They have of feeling of being deeply out of place, strangers, in their own denomination.
This makes me incredibly sad.
I’ve known what it feels like to exist as a stranger in the midst of the people that are supposed to be my people. And I know I’m not alone in this. We have each lived through the experiences of feeling like a stranger to ourselves, our families, our churches, and even the love of God.
We have also felt what it means to belong to the Presbyterian family. That almost indescribable sense of community when you meet with Presbyterians from anywhere in the world. That sense of Eucharist as we gather together.
As someone who loves that connection, that feeling of home that many of us have in the church, to know that so many have lost that, brings me no joy.
Now let me be clear, I am not here to gloss over conservatives’ contribution to the world’s sin of oppressing and abusing queer people because they see us as less human, less sacred, less worthy.
My story and many of yours are of the survival of this very oppression. My calling and your callings are to create a world that reflects Christ’s love of the stranger.
Sometimes separation is necessary, even best, especially when there has been too much pain. I’ve said myself, “Just let them go.” But the pain of divorce, estrangement cuts deep. And we must still grieve, because the pain of others does nothing to heal our own.
So what Carmen shared with me grants me no joy nor reconciliation.”
I appreciate John’s candor, and I share his angst over the reality that the only way forward for many people in the PCUSA in a post-Amendment 10-A world is to separate from a denomination that has become foreign and strange. But it is clear that the discomfort and dislocation of conservative Presbyterians is insufficient cause for John and other LGBT advocates to let up on the pressure being applied to the denomination. That is made clear in their plans for the 2014 General Assembly meeting in Detroit where a full-scale campaign for marriage redefinition is planned.
Classical tolerance: meeting at the intersection where all people are equal but all ideas are not
The reason I was in New York was in answer to a request by the producers of a pro-LGBT documentary called “Out of Order” that chronicles the journey to Presbyterian ordination of three LGBT individuals. I agreed to be interviewed in an attempt to provide balance to the documentary, which to that point offered only the perspective of those who are pro-LGBT ordination.
The most curious moment of the interview came when the producer realized that in fact I was the one now “out” of the ordered ministry, having set aside ordination when the PCUSA began actively ordaining LGBT individuals. The pain is deep on all sides of this divide.
I recall the days when the denomination’s commitment to have “all voices present at the table” included those who could not be ordained because of the PCUSA’s “fidelity and chastity standard.” When that standard was removed others of us could no longer, in good conscience, remain ordained. Where then is the concern that the conservative voice not be lost in the conversation?
John Sanger and I agree on many things. But on many things we do not agree. We are mutually committed to seeing the Presbyterian Church (USA) be faithful to her calling in Christ. We do not agree on the vision for that calling. We are mutually committed to seeing people’s lives transformed by the power of the Gospel. We do not agree on what “transformation” looks like nor necessarily on the content of the “gospel.” We are strangely similar in our dislocation from positions of recognized authority in the life of the denomination, and yet we each have national platforms from which to seek change. And still, the change we seek is diametrically opposed.
I appreciate John’s candor and look forward to the next divine intersection of our lives. I am confident that he prays for me and I for him. Which yes, may seem queer to some, but therein lies the point his sermon sought to make. We are not trying to set up straw men that are easily knocked over. We are seeking to discern and be conformed to the Truth of God’s holy calling. One of us is wrong. One of us is deluded. One of us is bearing false witness. One of us is leading people down a path of destruction. But both of us will stand one day before the Lord and give an account. Between here and there we will speak the truth in love to one another – recognizing that the battle is not against flesh and blood – but a battle rages none the less.
Today, let us expect the unexpected and anticipate miracles. The impasse at which we now stand is impossible for us to bridge, but nothing is impossible for God.
15 Comments. Leave new
thank you for your words, you are careful about self righteous. the worst sin, and seem caring. the most important obedience is to sharing Christ. Everything elseis unimportant inclSuding my sexual preference or yours.
Carmen,
THANK YOU for your persistence in pursuit of the truth. We understand that pain and suffering always accompany that pursuit. The fact that we are now classified as ” Far Right ” matters not – because the Truth is still the Truth. At the end of time, denominations do not matter. The Presbyterian Church does not matter. The only thing that matters is how we stand with Him whose blood was shed for us.
Thank you for posting this Carmen, read the entire post, very interesting and I’m in total agreement, with you. “The impasse at which we now stand is impossible for us to bridge,”
Richard
Conservative Presbyterians’ attitude about gay Presbyterians are inaccurately and unfairly described in this piece. We do not see gays as “less human, less sacred, less worthy” as he asserts. We see gays like we see others members of our church family, as saved sinners working out their salvation. We take issue with their characterization of homosexual behavior.
As to his description of alienation felt by conservatives remaining in the denomination, he makes an intriguing point. But as a question of pastoral care, I would say the two situations, gay and conservative, call for different responses. I do not think the church should view conservatism as a sinful condition.
I’m encouraged to know that you met with Mr. Sanger, and that you agreed to be interviewed for the documentary. Your service to the church is source of hope and inspiration.
I disagree that both you and Mr. Sanger “are not trying to set up straw men that are easily knocked over.” Mr. Sanger does exactly that when he claims that it’s the “far-right” (whatever that means) that disagrees with his position on ordination, and that conservatives see homosexuals as “less human, less sacred, less worthy.” That is precisely a straw-man argument.
I do, however, appreciate his empathy toward those of us that felt forced to break communion with the PC(USA). It was and is a very disorienting, and painful experience.
*Stanger
Ed: Self righteousness is a sin, without question. Jesus was merciless on the Jewish religious leaders who worked so hard at righteousness but failed miserably to love and care for others. But I’m curious. How do you know it’s the “worst sin?” Where in the New Testament can I find the rank order ? And where do I look for support for your opinion that “everything else is unimportant, including my sexual preference or yours ?”
Vance makes a great point, as an EPC pastor I do not (nor have I ever) seen homosexuals as “less human, less sacred, less worthy” and I would argue against anyone who said they were. All people are equally human, made in God’s image and completely unworthy apart from Jesus Christ. To suggest conservative evangelicals believe otherwise is, at least a little, disingenuous.
Dear Carmen,
I’m writing as one of the subjects of the documentary Out of Order to thank you for agreeing to be interviewed for the film, and for your lovely and gracious response to John’s sermon. I am so pleased to know that a lunch like that is still possible!
It grieves me to hear of the hurt and alienation you are feeling from the PCUSA, particularly because I’ve felt similar alienation at several stages of my journey – from a church which nurtured me and which I love deeply, divided over whether I could truly be part of it. I considered leaving the denomination, and I know what a painful decision that can be. Certainly, it is not one that’s taken lightly. I have lost friends and colleagues over the years to denominations where they felt more affirmed, and it is a painful loss every time, no matter what the reason.
I was recently ordained as Associate Pastor at the church where I’ve been serving in various capacities for the last year and a half. We are a small congregation, mostly aging as so many churches are these days, on the edge between suburban and rural, and fairly theologically diverse. My time there has been an incredible blessing, and I have high hopes for our future together.
We have lost a few members because of my sexuality – although not as many as I feared – and each has been a loss to the community. Those who remain do not always agree, about everything or maybe even about most things. But somehow, by the grace of God, it works. We have grown as a community, in trust and care and ministry with one another, and I have seen and felt there a renewal of confidence and hope for the future. Our diversity of thought has been a blessing, even if it is not always an easy one to navigate.
For my sermon this week, I’m working with the lectionary text from Jeremiah 29; his letter to the exiles in Babylon. To these people feeling displaced and alienated in a strange land, surrounded by people it seems like they have nothing in common with, he says, build houses, plant gardens, get married. Set down your roots there, in the midst of these strangers. Seek the peace/wholeness/well-being of this city where God has sent you, for in their shalom is your shalom.
It is a text I’ve come back to often over the last several years, and it never gets any easier. I know my temptation is so often just to surround myself with those people I agree with, and build walls around ourselves so we can safely yell out about how wrong everyone else is. Except that never works, because inevitably I would be blocking out someone I care about. And as much as I don’t really want Jeremiah’s words to be true, he is right every time. I am blessed and nurtured by my relationships with people different from me, even those who disagree with me. In their peace is my peace; in your peace is my peace.
Thank you again for your participation in the documentary and your willingness to engage in conversation. Blessings on your journey, wherever it takes you.
Christ’s peace,
Kate
ps. I am cross-posting this note on my blog, and I thought you might also be interested in a sermon I preached two weeks ago addressing some of the clashes in culture and expectations within my congregation: http://katelefranc.wordpress.com/2013/09/29/holy-priorities/
Maybe in ministering to people we miss the point that sin is still sin regardless of how it is described. Jesus came to heal and renew our life. Sin needs to be repented of and forgiven, not hidden or considered OK.
I have often thought of setting aside my ordination in protest. For me it’s the Presbyterian hypocrisy around class (and race, too) that makes me question why I continue in allegiance to this institution. But my disappointment and protest is in no way equivalent to the experience of people who ARE poor, who are denigrated for BEING poor, and whose continuation in poverty is more a consequence of the way Presbyterians vote than how hard anyone works. The parallel I’m drawing is that whatever suffering you experience as a consequence of giving up your ordination, whether you gave up a pulpit, or had to quit voting in presbytery meetings, or whatever, is not remotely equivalent to being DENIED ordination. I’m hoping you realize that and that it’s only the flow of the essay that made it seem otherwise.
Now, the claim that one of you is wrong and deluded… I’m not sure that’s biblical. we all sin and fall short, right? and we’re all loved long before we love, right? so none of us DESERVE to be ordained. It’s all a gift from God, even the equally beautiful way you and John string words together. It’s all a gift from the same source. Ineffable grace.
Miriam – thank you for your comment. I learned many years ago while working for a summer in an urban immersion ministry in Jacksonville, FL that “giving up” something (in that case because I was privileged and white) was nowhere near the reality of those who were “denied” those same things. I fail to remember that not everyone who “reads” me today knows my history, experiences or the whole story of my setting aside my ordination. It was an act of conscience. I could not in good conscience participate in the ordinations now taking place in a post 10A PCUSA. And, believing that ordination is an act of the whole church, I could not say “that’s not presbytery,” or “I wasn’t on the commission” so I didn’t “participate.” If you’re ordained in the PCUSA you are now participating in and supporting the ordinations under discussion in the documentary “Out of Order.” That’s a matter of conscience on all sides of the conversation.
Thanks again for asking a very good question! – Carmen
I retired, after 40 years ordained pastoral service, at age 65, in 2012, perhaps more because “it was time”. Perhaps I was not courageous enough to depart from the P.C.U.S.A. earlier, but by that time I was certain that the denomination had left me and would never come back. I do not consider people who are tempted toward homosexual behavior, or those who submit to that, or any other temptation, to be less human, less sacred, or less worthy than myself. If Apostle Paul could declare himself worst of sinners, I must assume many steps below him. The greatest heartache I’ve experienced is that all human sin, for which Jesus died that we might be redeemed, is now being excused, ignored, denied, or otherwise reduced. The result is that our Savior and Lord is no longer regarded as such by a division of the Church which once bore His Name. That portion, and it’s followers, plummet toward eternal condemnation, oblivious of what lies below, blissfully ignorant of the most unforgivable sin….willful rejection of God’s Grace in exchange for worldly approval.
The comment from the associate pastor regarding her sermon based upon the lectionary made me stop and think. It would be interesting to know how many LBGT ministers will base their sermons on the New Testament scriptures from the lectionary this week. It would probably been pretty tough if your congregation is mostly heterosexual. Probably should stick to the Old Testament until after the lectionary eases up. Don’t want to step on any toes, or even worse, try to explain what Paul “actually” meant in his warnings to Timothy – since he was obviously unfamiliar, being unable to foresee the future cultural trends of today.
Jesus is weeping. We are one people. He preaches nothing about gays. There is nothing in the commandments about being gay. I pray for all of those “making their own rules”.
Those if you dividing us are the biggest sinners.