Hi Straight-friendly

Thanks for sharing such a powerful and well written story. It’s true that it would be wrong to want acceptance and yet not give the same to others, whatever their stance. In our struggle, we can forget that we all need the same unconditional acceptance and love.

I agree that the church will one day accept the GLBTIQ community as it has with other taboos. And as avb says, it’s already starting. I just wish it didn’t have to take so long!

I love the simplicity of your message and practices. Knowing that is really encouraging to me.

I’m also fascinated by your pentecostal heritage in Alabama and am trying to imagine what that would have been like, especially for your maternal grandmother raising 11 children alone.

Thank you again.

Blessings,

Ann Maree

Ann Maree,

Your comments bless me greatly. I’m with you on wanting the changes we seek to come sooner than they are. But I also believe God has much work to do to prepare His people to embrace GLBTIQ acceptance–and we’re just in the early stages of making our presence known. As Bishop Yvette Flunder, founder and pastor of San Francisco’s City of Refuge, often says, our first task is guiding the multitude of fearful, closeted gay believers out of the shadows. Because it’s true–we’re everywhere, in every church, in many pulpits, serving as musicians and deacons and teachers and every other office. But until we encourage one another to be truthful to ourselves and our fellow believers, the hurt and suffering homophobic Christians create will never be recognized outside our circles.

This will require great courage and risk for all–much like the courage and risk that my grandmother assumed. Actually, defiance better describes it. But to her last breath she would not relent. And I can hear her even now as she responded to those who would kindly offer their sympathy for her struggles. “I count it all joy,” she’d say, quoting James 1. “These burdens have been my crown.” We too are in a struggle, but we can’t be weary in well doing. We will reap a harvest of blessings if we faint not.

Be blessed always,

Tim

Hi straight-friendly

You are very welcome! It’s true – your love and heart felt enthusiasm have really given me a boost.

I’m just wondering how I can help guide closeted GLBTIQ people out of the shadows?…. I don’t attend a church. What do you and the bishop have in mind for ways of assisting this?

Blessings to you too,

Ann Maree

Hey Ann Maree,

The pressing task is persuading closeted GLBTIQ believers that hiding in shadows and supporting ministries that demonize and oppress same-sex orientation constitute a slave mentality that directly contradicts the meaning of Calvary and power of the Resurrection. We are first and foremost followers of Christ. We have answered His call: “Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” (Mark 8.34)

In our case, self-acceptance becomes key to self-denial. It requires willingness to forego the comfort of familiar, beloved surroundings we cling to by pretending to be something we’re not. Not coming out in order to stay in churches we love is patently dishonest. Accepting religious rejection is basically rejecting God’s plan and purpose for creating us as same-sex oriented beings. Without plunging too far into the deep end of the theological pool, it’s no different than Paul’s (oft misquoted) condemnation of heterosexuals who override their native orientation to practice same-sex acts of idolatry. We’re conforming to religious practices, rather than honoring God. Paul says when we fall into this mindset, we’ve “exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator.” (Romans 1.25) Thus, the message to every gay believer is to live the life he/she is given with integrity as an act of worship for his/her Creator.

This requires tremendous courage–and a willingness to sacrifice respect and acceptance of one’s family and faith community. It will often require seeking fellowship among more enlightened believers and congregations whose worship and faith practices aren’t as vividly demonstrative as our Pentecostal upbringing. However, keeping the image God shaped us to reflect intact and honestly serving the Body of Christ are paramount. As Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, a light hidden under a bushel is uselessl. Thinking we should hide our light in order to live where the light appears brightest is self-defeating and destructive. Furthermore, contributing time, talent, and money to ministries that actively oppress GLBTIQ people is just wrong. It advances oppression of others.

The Church (capital “C”) needs our light. We need to speak honestly about ourselves and prepare to meet rejection with love AND wisdom–and the more of us who summon the courage to do this, the more light will shine until it eventually reaches the shadowy corners we left. We can’t sit in darkness and wait for change. We must make light happen.

I’m attaching a link to a marvelous sermon by Bishop Flunder about how God used the Phoenician woman–a pagan outsider reviled by the Jewish religious establishment–to inaugurate Christ’s message of inclusion. It’s an extremely enlightening depiction of how even Christ was susceptible to knee-jerk rejection, and how this woman (whom He called a “dog”) set the stage for the Pentecostal promise that God would pour out His Spirit on all people. “The church needs more dogs,” Bishop Flunder says… (Parts Two and Three follow automatically after viewing the first.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JL1tJgi6rZQ

Hey Tim

I definitely agree that as long as the church views GLBTIQ people as less than others, that this is directly in opposition to God. I am not a second class citizen and neither is anyone else and I will not tolerate being treated as such. That’s why I’m not attending a church. I believe that to accept the ‘less than’ lie is contradicting God’s plan and view of his beloved creation. No one deserves to be treated like a shadow or outcast. If people take that yoke on and force others to wear that, it’s a heavy load that stunts growth, and that’s hardly of God.

And yes – coming out takes courage and staying in a church may take even more. I personally wouldn’t advise staying in a non accepting church for the above reason. For me it definitely wasn’t right. I’d worked too much on my self esteem and healing to let the church dismantle that again.

You said: “It will often require seeking fellowship among more enlightened believers and congregations whose worship and faith practices aren’t as vividly demonstrative as our Pentecostal upbringing. However, keeping the image God shaped us to reflect intact and honestly serving the Body of Christ are paramount. As Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, a light hidden under a bushel is uselessl. Thinking we should hide our light in order to live where the light appears brightest is self-defeating and destructive. Furthermore, contributing time, talent, and money to ministries that actively oppress GLBTIQ people is just wrong. It advances oppression of others”.

Yes, I agree with that. It sounds healthy. I will add also that fellowshipping OUTSIDE of churches may be the answer. Yes, shock, horror for all those who believe we are meant to be part of a church or the supposed body of Christ. But guess what – Jesus often ministered on the outskirts, outside of church, moving amongst the forgotten and outcast. His example says much more to me than some pentecostal or religious idea of how we should connect with each other.

You said: “The Church (capital “C”) needs our light. We need to speak honestly about ourselves and prepare to meet rejection with love AND wisdom–and the more of us who summon the courage to do this, the more light will shine until it eventually reaches the shadowy corners we left. We can’t sit in darkness and wait for change. We must make light happen.”

Yes and this is the really tricky bit for me. The church does need us. But I’m outside of church, cast out and unable to abide with the majority of those beliefs so not wanting to return. So how can I minister to those who need it most in the church?

Tim, I listened to Bishop Flunder and found her to be a very likeable and inspirational woman. Thank you for making that link available. I thought her take on Mark 7:24-30 (Matt 15: 21-28) was interesting and a bit controversial. My interpretation is a little different. I believe Jesus, in using a highly insulting term (i.e. dog) was not in fact insulting the woman but speaking to the predjudiced culture of the day, using that situation and the term to highlight the woman’s faith. He was illustrating, as she was, by her boldness, that nothing would stand in front of her faith. Not an insult, nor culture, exclusion, gender, differences, religion or anything else (as the Bishop eluded to). I imagine it as a play and that for a moment they were both in sync, on the same wave length, performing in front of the disciples who, in the Matt version, seemed to be inconvenienced or embarrassed by her cries. They expected him to send her away. Nevertheless, she held to the truth that God would provide healing and her background didn’t matter. You can see from her quick response she expected rejection and let’s face it, society has a way of letting outcasts know who they are!! (By her response, I also don’t believe for one moment she was accepting “crumbs” despite what she said, but rather challenging the beliefs of the day, just like he was). And so he called her a dog, but I can’t believe that he thought that of her. Jesus never treated outcasts unkindly and he had a lot practice with them. I really do think he was highlighting both the predjudice of the day as a way of debunking the idea that outsiders weren’t welcome and also to underline her courage and faith. He saw her for who she was, a faithful person clinging to the truth despite much opposition, and so they had a kind of unity and she received her healing.

Anyway that’s just my own interpretation after pondering over it for a few months now. Magzdragon also wrote beautifully about that passage in her blog if you care to read it.

Many blessings to you, Tim.

Ann Maree

Ann Maree,

First, I must tell you how invigorating this discussion has been for me (with hat-tips to AVB and MagzDragon, too)! I truly believe acceptance is the core issue–and struggle–we all must deal with and finding more fellow believers who agree is most heartening!

While I’m convinced accepting ourselves as God made us as well as accepting those who reject us begins with a conscious decision–very much like our decision to follow Christ–it ultimately becomes a process that involves continual study, introspection, and discovery. As a result, we cover a lot of ground. Just as where we are today is different than where we were yesterday, we should anticipate our progress will take us further along tomorrow. The challenge is to never mistake our current position as our final one, because if we do that we put ourselves at risk of no longer yielding to God’s direction. I’m constantly reminded of Philippians 2.13: “For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.” We serve at His pleasure, which is why it’s essential we flow with His plan rather than stick to ours.

I say all of this because right now you and I are on very similar wavelengths. We both agree wholeheartedly it is self-destructive (and I would go so far as to say “disobedient”) to subject ourselves to malignant hostility and condemnation that masquerades as spiritual truth and “holiness.” You are absolutely right when you say, “I’d worked too much on my self esteem and healing to let the church dismantle that again.” We all must protect and cherish the precious gifts we’ve been given at all costs–even though many will misjudge our actions because they can’t understand our motives. Thank God He reserved judgment exclusively to Himself and since He measures our faith and faithfulness on performance–not church attendance–I’m always careful not to confuse going to church with discipleship or worship. While the former can be extremely useful in fostering the latter, they are not the same thing.

For quite some time, the bruising experiences I had under church auspices made the thought of attending church–ANY church–a harrowing proposition. Even worshiping with open and affirming congregations raised skepticism about getting sucked into congregational life and then finding out all was not what it seemed. I worshiped outside the church also. At the time, I was fine with that for the indefinite future. But as I continued to grow–as God continued to work in me–strange developments started to take place. And oddly enough the first of them was the dilemma you seem to be facing.

Through a very circuitous channel, a lady I’d never met contacted me. She said her 13-year-old son had recently come out to her and because their church was fiercely homophobic, she needed to find a healthier faith community for him and the rest of their family. “What church do you attend?” she asked. The magnitude of her compassion overwhelmed me. I really had to pray for the right answer to avoid confusing or misleading her. Fortunately, she lived out-of-state and I was able to guide her to list of open and affirming churches in her area, encouraging her to visit several and settle where she, her son, and her family felt most comfortable. But the experience sobered me to realize that my burning desire to rescue my LGBTIQ brothers and sisters from oppression was confounded by my inability to verify safe havens really existed. If not for me, for them, I needed to find a church home. What if the next person who asked a similar question lived nearby? What if a friend or neighbor seeking shelter actually asked to go to church with me? I had grown so obsessed with getting people out I’d overlooked the obvious: I had nowhere to lead them back in.

And then the Spirit began dealing with me in another area. Worshiping and studying and praying in solitude met my needs, but it put me in no position to meet the needs of others. What’s more, it cheated me of knowledge, experience, and inspiration others could offer me. I started to feel like a kid who’d rather sit on the doorstep eating a sandwich than venture into the banquet hall and belly up to the table. In spite of the harm done me by misguided believers, my years in the church had equipped me with valuable teaching and gifts I could share. I had more than I needed, yet I also needed more than I had.

Finally, I realized as long as I kept to myself I could never be challenged. I could shape my study and worship to suit me without ever having to bend my will to a Spirit-led pastor or leader. The calendar wasn’t important. There would never be a Sunday when getting to service and offering praise were a sacrifice. And speaking of sacrifice, there was never a time when I had to deprive myself to pay my tithes or support ministries beyond my abilities. I sort of progressed from “I don’t need church” to “The church needs me” to “I need the church.”

Obviously, I wasn’t headed back to a Pentecostal church–too risky. But you must know something about me. The greatest church I’ve ever known was a Pentecostal church, an atypically liberal, affirming, and enormous (25K members) congregation I worshiped with when I lived in LA. The Spirit ruled there and the Word came forth in power and truth. So I had some ridiculously high standards for any place where I would eventually settle. It needed to move and inspire me on that level or forget it. So my first choice was the fancy Presbyterian church in downtown Chicago: lots of pomp, really terrific preaching, but a little chilly in the pews. That didn’t last long. I ricocheted around town and then one Sunday I wandered into the Presby church a few blocks away, right in the heart of Boystown, Chicago’s gay ‘hood. Big rainbow flag over the door. About a hundred people. The choir got extra points for enthusiasm, but the results were spotty. And then the minister called the people to prayer. The Spirit of the Lord filled the place. When the pastor finished her sermon, I realized how much I’d been missing. She opened the Word with authority and brought forth points I’d never considered. I had found a home. And I had a story to tell others struggling to let go of their oppressive traditions because they didn’t think they could find something better.

This is my story, Ann Maree. It’s not a template or an indicator of anything about anyone other than me. But I offer it in love as a testimony that God is working in us to act and to will according to His good purpose. My healing from past wounds isn’t yet complete. At the same time, though, I’m growing in new ways. I encourage you to follow your heart as it listens to the Spirit. Where you are now is where you’re supposed to be. But don’t be surprised if you find yourself somewhere entirely new tomorrow or the day after that. And wherever that may be, it will be right, because your heart is right and you have work God wants you to do.

Sorry for the length, but I felt impressed to share this here to encourage all of us to be receptive to God’s guidance as we learn to accept.

PS: Re Bishop Flunder, I’m responding to MagzDragon’s post…

Hi Tim,

I read your post about the pagan woman, and found it both interesting, and exciting that someone had taken the same message from the story that I had.

As far as church/fellowship goes, I am a member of a newly established Christian Spiritualist church that meets not far from where I live. It’s a different experience to the pentecostal churches I have attended in the past, but it is also a vibrant, fulfilling and nourishing experience.

I don’t think that I, personally would turn back now to attend a Christian church as my experience of God/Spirit/Universe is so much more now than it was previously.

I applaud those who do continue to persevere, but it’s not where I feel I am guided to be at this time.

As for the future, well, that’s not mine to know.

yes Tim….one of the things I like about freedom 2 b[e] is that we are ver respectful of each persons journey…..for some that is coming out of the church (for a variety of reasons) ……for some it is to stay in churches…….for some….to go back…….and others to live with ambiguity for some time.

It is a journey…..and where we are today might not be where we will be tomorrow. I know my journey has had many twists and turns and the place I am today is somewhere I never expected to be……not in my wildest dreams…..hehe

Hi Tim,

I’ve only just found the time to actually sit down and write a reply to you. It’s not that I have been incredibly busy, but I feel like a duck on a string in the middle of a pond atm. Paddling like crazy and getting nowhere!

I think that the Christian Spiritualist Churches in Australia are somewhat different to the one you described in the USA. Aussies tend to take a very laid back approach to most things, (except sport and pentecostal worship, perhaps )

Anyway, I find my new church very enriching and often challenging, which is as things should be I suppose.

I would love to visit an African American Spiritualist church, I think it would be an amazing experience!

Meg, Ann Maree, and AVB,

Having long ago claimed AVB as my brother, this past week’s discussion privileges me to have two dear sisters of faith as well. I’m deeply grateful for that. And rather than continue our “aggressive agreement” (which I imagine is growing a bit tedious to anyone else who’s reading but not commenting on the thread), I’ll just add a couple things.

First, the discussion here has inspired a most appropriate closing installment in the current “Great Women of Faith” series I’m running on my blog. That will post at midnight Chicago time (CST) and I’ll link it here once it’s up. (It gives some credence to Bishop Flunder’s view, but hopefully in a way that gets to her point–which I think is essential–without raising too many hackles.)

AVB, “he-he” indeed! As we say over here, “Who’d-a thunk it?” in terms of where each of has landed and indeed how far we’ve come. God is truly amazing.

Ann Maree, what a love you are! And in the God-is-truly-amazing vein, I’m so grateful that He guided you into a field where you could find help for yourself while offering help to others. That’s often His way and keeps His principle that what we give comes back to us in manifold measure.

Meg, that was among the major lessons at First Church–spiritual reciprocity. The pastor taught us constantly what we sent out would come back, and of course this is one of the universal beliefs of all faiths, one that I’ve found true over and over in my own life. I think you would find visiting an African-American Spiritualist church a most intriguing and informative experience, because much of what is explicitly taught in less ethnocentric spiritualist environments is largely presumed, due to its wide embrace in African-American culture as a whole. Universalist “doctrines” like divine presence in Nature, the eternal (pre- and post-) existence of the soul, parallel spiritual and physical planes, etc., are foregone conclusions there, with the focus hewing closer to Christ’s principles as the Source of enlightenment and redemption.

Service at First Church I’m sure differs greatly from your experience–for the very reason you suggest. It’s not remotely “laid back.” It’s a spectacular mélange of “high church” spectacle and Baptist/Pentecostal-style fervor–i.e., lots of robes and ritual and an iron-clad liturgy that gets prolonged by long stretches of improvisational praise and worship when “the Spirit comes.” (It’s best to settle in, because once service starts, you’re going to be there a while. The 11 AM service generally ends around 2 PM.) But, trust me, it’s never boring, and in the process, a great deal of light and healing take place. So if you’re ever this way…

Blessings to all of you. I’m doing the very thing I didn’t want to do–running on. Have a terrific weekend and know I’m thinking of all of you as I watch the Open!