Acceptance into The Club

I wan­ted to share the follo­wing blog from naked­pas­tor.  He brings out some great points about accep­tance, or lack the­reof, within the church com­mu­nity.  So enjoy…

I bum­ped into a young man while I was out the other day. We have mutual friends and have met before and have had a few short con­ver­sa­tions. He knows I pas­tor a church. That has come up before. We were tal­king for just a few minu­tes when he said, “You know, I’ve been invi­ted to your church seve­ral times.”

“Cool,” I said. “Ya, it would be great to see you there.”
He pau­sed and care­fully choo­sing his words, said, “Well, I haven’t come because I’m afraid of get­ting bur­ned! I mean, because of my lifestyle and all. My orientation.”

“Are you gay?”

“Yes,” he said. I could tell he was really nervous.

“Ya. Abso­lu­tely. Come! I invite you.”

“The last time I went to a church, I had been going for a while. I loved the peo­ple and they see­med to accept me. Ever­yone once in a while there were jokes about fag­gots, but I just gave them the bene­fit of the doubt. But it even­tually became clear that they wouldn’t accept the fact that I was gay. They humi­lia­ted me in front of every­body during one ser­vice. That was the last time I went. I’ve never been to church since.”

“I’m sorry that hap­pe­ned to you. I mean it: you are wel­come. There are others in our com­mu­nity who are gay. We won’t judge you. Come without fear.”

I won­der if he will. I hope so.After we sepa­ra­ted, I felt something gna­wing at my mind. There was something hope­ful about our con­ver­sa­tion, but also something deeply dis­tur­bing. Here’s some of my thoughts. Let me be honest:

• I felt anger toward the church that hurt him and ulti­ma­tely rejec­ted him. I know many peo­ple like him who swear they will never be a part of a reli­gious com­mu­nity again. I will dare to call it spi­ri­tual pedophi­lia or rape: we will use these peo­ple for our plea­sure until it no lon­ger suits us.
• I felt some pride that I could tell him he was wel­come, as a gay per­son, in our com­mu­nity. I felt supe­rior and that our church was bet­ter than others. I hate that about myself.
• I was ambushed by a faulty kind of thin­king: he was loo­king for my offi­cial per­mis­sion to be accep­ted by God. Who am I to tell anyone who’s in or out?
• The fact that only a small part of the church wel­co­mes gays is a sad tes­ti­mony to the malady of the church and society as a whole.
• I felt guilty by asso­cia­tion. Is my desire to live by love simply impos­si­ble within the con­text of an abu­sive autho­rity structure?
• Even though my com­mu­nity is recog­ni­zed as a church, I wan­ted us to have nothing to do with the lar­ger ins­ti­tu­tio­nal church any lon­ger. But I rea­lize that would just be another divi­sive and arro­gant mea­sure on our part.
• There was a strong urge in me to per­so­nally quit the sys­tem. Who are the peo­ple calling them­sel­ves the ones on the inside and labe­ling others as on the outside and with feig­ned humi­lity deli­nea­ting the terms of their rela­tionship to those on the inside? Who are these people?
• I deter­mi­ned that I have to be care­ful what lan­guage I use and not get suc­ked into false ways of spea­king. I’m not invi­ting anyone to anything. To use an old ana­logy (Karl Barth’s I think): I am just a beg­gar lea­ding another beg­gar to bread. I am NOT the baker! And we are all starving.
• I hope I was the love of God to this young man. I felt God’s love for me through him. I had a strong sense that he will go in ahead of me and those who reject him.
• Our lan­guage as the church is filled with abuse, arro­gance, autho­rity, entit­le­ment and segre­ga­tion. It is so embed­ded that we don’t even rea­lize it any­more. We will even rede­fine what love means so that we can con­ti­nue in our elitism.