So … what are you going to do? Are
you going to wait and see what this Adam Hamilton conference
proposes? Go to another denomination? Hope for a breakaway
denomination? Or stay and work toward change? It's a question I
have asked others and spent a lot of time thinking about myself since
the decisions of General Conference.
One of my Lenten disciplines was to be
in discernment for where God may be calling me vocationally. This
meant: prayer, meditation, reading, conversations with friends,
conversations with Bishops and forcing myself to refrain from jumping
to a plan. As Lent concluded and Easter came I still had no answer,
which I suppose means my discipline was a success, although it didn't
feel like it.
Even though I am living in a different
conference, East Ohio conference has always remained my home
conference. The Bishop that ordained me and that allowed me to serve
in another conference advised me to keep my connection to East Ohio
conference and so I have. I have lived in two different conferences
since then but remain tied to my home conference, travelling back for
that big family reunion at Lakeside we call Annual Conference. It
has felt good. I look forward to jogs by Lake Erie, conversations on
the cottage porches of former colleagues and mentors, meet-ups for
ice cream and the beautiful sound of voices in unison singing “For
All the Saints” as we gather not just with each other but the great
cloud of witnesses.
When I pull into Lakeside and see the
lanyards with name tags, smell the water and watch the kids eyes widen
with joy I am flooded with memories. I remember sitting on the shore
when I was a preteen on a confirmation retreat and making a promise
to always be best friends with the woman who is still my best friend,
I remember the flood of candles in the dark when I was a youth leader
and brought teens to Youth Annual Conference, I remember big
welcoming hugs from saints who have gone before me, new friendships
made, late night walks home from ordination parties and of course
seeing parishioners and family members stand in support as the Bishop
laid hands on me and called me pastor.
I made vows to my beloved church, vows
I hold dear and have worked to honor. So now here I am at a
crossroads, with so many others I have sat beside in the sticky
wooden chairs of Annual Conference. What will I do?
I know that remaining in a
denomination where the callings and gifts of my LGBTQ+ brothers and
sisters are not welcomed is not an option. I can not stay standing
as fellow children of God are pushed out. I will not raise my
children in a church where, if they are gay, they will be told one
day that who they are is not beloved, precious and Imago Dei. I have
seen the lasting pain on the faces of those who were made to feel
safe and loved in their home church only to be told it was all
conditional.
Does that mean I stay and work toward
change, discern if God is calling me somewhere else ... cut ties?
The other day I was asked a question.
A question that filled me with both pride and humility, made me smile
and cry. A woman that I first met when she was 14 years old and a
member of the church where I was the associate pastor asked me the
question. She asked me if I would be the person on stage with her
when she is ordained at East Ohio Conference this June.
It is a reminder to me of the hope and
promise still alive in my home church. It is a beautiful expression
of the love I have given and received in my years of ministry. It
may also be a beautiful way of saying good bye, knowing that as long
as people with her passion, intelligence and courage are working in
The UMC then it is in good hands. I don't know. I am still
discerning.
One thing I do know is that no matter
where I place my ordination, no matter what church I serve, what role
I have … the sanctifying grace I have seen, the people I have
loved, the church I have vowed to serve … it will always be tied to
my heart.
