We checked out a new church today, one known for valuing inclusion. The church we currently attend is gay affirming, but there are only a few gay people at our church, and we talk very little about issues pertaining to the LGBT community, so we went to this other one, just to see what it would be like.
I should preface this with some truth that probably will not surprise you. I've been a Christian since I was a teenager, and I've spent most of those years watching the church judge and hurt every gay person unfortunate enough to attempt to believe claims that "all" are welcome. Although I have seen much progress in the church, the church as a whole has a long way to go. Even affirming churches are full of open and welcoming people who just don't understand straight privilege. It's progress, but we've a long way to go.
This church we attended was out of this world. Like seriously... this is what heaven will look like.
If you had told me ten years ago that in 2015, I'd be sitting in a church with beautiful stained glass windows and a traditional pipe organ, listening to a gay pastor preach a message on inclusion, taking communion from a transwoman, feeling empathy for the lesbian moms trying to keep their daughter quiet, admiring the artistic Dia de los Muertos altars, and praying up front with a beautiful black woman, well, I'd just never believe you. But I swear, this is the truth. It happened. A gender-creative individual dressed like Elton John sang in the chorus. My kids didn't notice that the greeter, Alison, had a 5:00 shadow. They only noticed her awesome high fives. And that the service was long. My daughter definitely noticed that. She was ready to go about halfway through, but she hung tight and played with the beautiful sunflowers they gave us as a new visitor gift.
The preacher was an amazingly charismatic Mexican man who talked about how difficult it is to forgive and come back to the church. In the middle of his message, he talked about coming out to his mom. My son perked up a bit then. When the preacher said, "I went to my mom crying and said, 'Mommy, help! I'm a fag! I'm a fag! I don't know what to do."
My son's eyes bulged out of his head and his jaw dropped. He looked at me with that a face that said, "Did he seriously just say the 'F' word? What the heck? Is he gay or what? Why would a gay man use that word?" My son doesn't know much about gay history or culture yet, but he knows that word is not cool.
As if reading my son's mind, the pastor went on, "Yup, that's right I said it. Reclaim it folks. If we aren't afraid to say it, we take away it's power to hurt us." And then he went on the explain how his mother trusted their religious family members who eventually turned him off to church and left him on a hiatus for over a decade. He has obviously since forgiven the church, since he decided to serve in the church. As have all of the beautiful brothers and sisters who worship here. Reconciliation is hard. I can't even imagine how hard it is. I tip my hat to their courage.
But I sure am glad that they have forgiven the church, because the church needs their gifts. I feel like I got a glimpse of heaven today.
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