CHRIST IN WINTER:
Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter… ©
Our church has breakfast
every Sunday morning. Nothing special. Just part of the schedule. Sometimes a
fund raiser for a mission project. I was eating and chatting with a 14 year old
high school freshman who is new to our church. I always try to sit with new
folks. That way, they can’t complain later that they didn’t know what they were
getting in to.
There was a really big
crowd. I wondered aloud why there were so many more folks there than usual. I hadn’t
even gotten any of the French-toast casserole. [There is always a pile of bagels
and big bowl of fruit if the cooked stuff runs out.] Then I remembered.
Oh, it must be because
after worship we are going to vote on whether to be a Reconciling Congregation.
What does that mean? my new
friend asked.
The United Methodist
denomination, I explained, can’t quite make up its mind whether to accept gay
people into full fellowship. We’ve come some of the way. We say that they are
children of God, and it’s okay for them to come to church and be church
members, and people should not be unkind to them or discriminate against them,
but we won’t ordain them as pastors or perform marriages for them. The
Reconciling movement is trying to get the entire denomination to accept
everyone fully, including gay people. Right now it is doing it one member and
one congregation at a time.
Then he looked straight at
me and said, What do you think?
Well, I said, for a long
time I sort of went along with the official statement. I had nothing against
gay folks. I thought everyone should be nice to them, but that there was
something ‘unnatural’ about it, mostly because I just couldn’t imagine having
sex, or wanting to, with another man. But a number of gay guys have befriended
me through the years, and I was talking with one of them about this. In fact, I
was trying to get him to “come over to our side,’ so he could marry our
daughter, because he is such a great guy and would make her such a great husband,
and he said, Could you come over to our side?
I thought about it. Good
grief, what an idea! Well, no, I couldn’t.
Of course you couldn’t, he
said. You’re so straight you squeak. I tried for a long time to come over to your
side, to be straight, but I finally realized that I have no more choice about
how I feel about sex than you do. We were both born with a sexual… well, we
can’t call it preference, because it’s
not. It’s a sexual reality. It’s no different than being born left-handed or
black. We used to say that left-handed and black people were inferior and
unnatural and should not be accepted, too. A lot of people still think homosexuality
is a choice. Why in the world would anyone choose
to be vilified and hated and discriminated against, the way so many people do
to gays? I am gay because I have no choice, just like I am white and
right-handed because I have no choice.
So, I said to my young
friend, what I think is: if there’s no choice, there’s no choice. If you have
no choice about the way you are, then I have no choice but to accept and love
you the way you are.
Yeah, that’s what I’ve
always thought, said the fourteen-year-old. It’s the only thing that makes
sense.
The vote to accept the
acceptable was 197 to 0. My new young friend stood tall in the picture we took,
along with 196 others.
JRMcF
johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com
I tweet as yooper1721,
THE STRANGE CALLING, is sort of a memoir, a collection of stories from my
ministry. When I first felt I was being “called” by God to be a preacher, the
ministry was known as “the high calling.” In my experience, it seemed more like
a strange calling. You can get it from the publisher, Smyth&Helwys, or lots
of places on the web, including Amazon, B&N, etc.
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