The Call

I am calling on you all for prayer and help in discerning a unique and amazing opportunity that has come to Jessica and me. As many of you know I have felt a very strong call to ordained ministry since I was twelve and has continued to be the most real thing I have ever felt in my life. Since coming out as a lesbian, I have become more aware of my role as a pastor to be a voice for those who have been silenced, especially in the church. Jessica and I became involved in a group called “The Reconciling Ministries Network,” whose mission is to work for full participation for all persons within the United Methodist Church. This group is working very hard to gain equal rights within the church for people of all sexual orientations. A person on the national task force has asked Jessica and me to be representatives for the Southwest Texas Conference for this issue. We would be recruiting, educating others, and speaking with voting members of the General Conference to vote in favor of equal church rights. This would be a role that would require us to be very open, very public and very honest about our stories.

Currently there is very conflicting doctrine in the UM church in regards to homosexuality, (go here to read more http://archives.umc.org/interior.asp?ptid=1&mid=1324). There isn’t any clear doctrine that can keep an LGBT person from becoming a member of the church, but there also isn’t any clear doctrine that can stop a pastor from denying membership rights to an LGBT person. This is the issue we are currently trying to vote on by the next General Conference. The doctrine that speaks loudest to me is article 304.3 about clergy, the church will not ordain ‘self-avoid practicing homosexuals’. There are many UM clergy that have been denied their ordination, had their pastoral rights taken away, or have had to keep their personal lives hidden to keep this from happening.

I realize that being asked to do this is quite an honor and a unique opportunity that could really enrich my experience in ministry. However, by being public about my story of my call to ministry and the barriers that are in place because of my sexual orientation might bring more obstacles. By being very public with this effort, I fear that when my ordination comes around that it will be contested by someone and I will not be able to do what I feel God has been calling me to do. On the other hand, I feel called to fight this fight as well, I’m afraid that by being silent I’m not being true to the call to be a voice for those who have been silenced.

So what I’m asking you all for is your prayers for discernment, guidance, strength and peace. This decision feels HUGE, much bigger than me. I feel a lot like David holding a stone and a sling looking up at Goliath, shaking in his sandals. I feel a lot like Moses, doubtful of my abilities and gifts to lead when God is calling me to. I feel a lot like Jonah, afraid of the place God is calling me to go. Whatever I decide I know that God is with me and will use me and my gifts for ministry. I thank God for all of you and your continual support and love. It fills my heart with hope and joy to know that I have such a supportive community of saints in all of you.

Peace,

Britt

Things aren't always as they seem

This blew me away!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

The Face of Christ

I meant to write this post last weekend right after the reconciling service at FUMC Austin, but things have been quite busy. I had a grant report due and a huge meeting I had to lead on Monday and thankfully things have been slowing down since then, but they still have been busy.

There are only a handful of times that I have felt the genuine happiness that I experienced last Sunday night. Jessica and I had invited friends to attend First United Methodist’s reconciling worship service. I’ve written about the Reconciling Ministries on this blog before, but for first time reader sake here’s RMN 101. Currently there is not official church legislation that gives equal membership rights to LGBT persons, the Reconciling Ministries Network is a “movement of United Methodist individuals, congregations, campus ministries, and other groups working for the full participation of all people in the United Methodist Church.” (rmnetwork.org) It is their hope and vision that the UM church will be fully inclusive to LGBT persons and be true to the statement it professes that it exemplifies, “Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors.” First UMC Austin created a worship service especially for this effort to mourn the hurt that the church has caused the LGBT community, to celebrate the success the movement has had, and to give us hope and encouragement in looking at the future.

I knew when we had decided to go to this service I didn’t want to go alone, I wanted to experience this with my community of saints. You see when Jessica and I came out, we were most worried about losing our friends in the Christian community. We thought they wouldn’t understand, that they wouldn’t be able to mix faith and our sexual orientation and eventually we would separate like oil and water. But to our surprise, they were the most inclusive and encouraging group we could have ever asked for. So when I heard about this service, I wanted them to experience this as well.

We entered the beautiful sanctuary at FUMC, a worship experience in itself by just being present in that space. We picked out a row near the front and filed in one by one. Each person had brought in their different story of experience with the church, but were there to support us and to witness something new. As the service began I put my arm around Jessica, something I have started to take for granted at the church we attend. I leaned over to her and whispered how proud I was to be in this place with her and how much I love her. I then looked down the row at my friends and it became overwhelming. It meant so much to me that they were all there, sitting in support of us. To have friends that might not completely understand your sexual orientation, but who are willing to learn and stand in support of you (well in our case sitting in a pew) makes you feel about 10 feet tall. Just because I'm a lesbian hasn't changed my friendship with them in any way, they haven't allowed that to happen. I am loved just the way I am.

To me they are mirroring God's love for us. That night I saw the face of God in each of my friends' faces. I know that the road ahead for me is going to a hard and long fight. Its going to be full of people who don't support me and my 'lifestyle', and will try and keep me from being ordained, having equal rights, and living the way I believe God created me to. But sitting in that pew with my brothers and sisters gave me a hope that I know will fuel me to continue living and becoming the person I believe God created me to be. This group represented so much to me last Sunday night and it became overwhelming for me to be a part of. I wanted those who have not been able to be fully supportive to see this beautiful picture of God's face.

Thank you friends for being the loving face of Christ.

On the Question of Gay Clergy

I wanted to share a wonderful post about gay clergy with you all from the rm network blog I read. http://www.rmnblog.org/2009/03/standing-together-in-the-river.html

Wonderful post!

By Antony Hebblethwaite

I know the pain of exclusion from ministry because of my sexual orientation. I've seen the hurt written on the faces of United Methodist clergy who faithfully serve the church but need to keep themselves and their families hidden to survive in their careers. I wanted to mention this emotional landscape as I respond to "To Come Out or Not To Come Out" by expanding my comment to that post.

On Justice

As I think about justice for LGBTQ1 people in the sphere of clergy rights in The United Methodist Church, I see three justice statements:

* It is just for LGBTQ clergy to "come out", live authentically in the world and have a family.
* It is just for LGBTQ clergy to enter and sustain careers in the ministry in safety without the fear of loss because of their authenticity and/or family.
* It is just for congregations with LGBTQ clergy to be open and proud about the full personhood of their pastor without the fear of loss because of their pastor’s authenticity and/or family.

Paragraph 304.3 in the Book of Discipline, "Self-avowed practicing homosexuals are not to be certified as candidates, ordained as ministers, or appointed to serve in The United Methodist Church", is a comprehensive attack on the dignity of having a career, being authentic and nurturing a family.

On Privilege

United Methodist policy results in loss of privilege for LGBTQ people excluded from ministry for being authentic and/or having a family. United Methodist policy also results in loss of privilege for LGBTQ clergy and congregations excluded from full authenticity to survive in ministry together.

When the Oppressed Oppress the Oppressed

In this very, very painful scenario in our movement, we need to be careful not to privilege our oppressed social locations and oppress others. There is a temptation for "out" LGBTQ people to criticize pastors who need to stay in the closet to survive in their careers. There is a temptation for pastors in the closet to criticize those excluded from ministry for mishandling their careers by "coming out".

In the magnificent essay in Christian Century titled “Righteous Resistance and Martin Luther King, Jr.”, John Raines writes:
The corruption of powerlessness is that the oppressed may come to envy and seek to emulate the oppressor, dreaming of someday taking the oppressor’s place.

When this happens a terrible silence and isolation opens up among the powerless. Dreaming of becoming like the mighty, they fear and flee the wounds of their oppressed fellows, because those wounds remind them of their own degradation. The deepest and most devastating injury of oppression is that it produces mute suffering -- suffering that cannot even name its own situation, cannot cry out, cannot say how things really are, cannot protest.

Martin Luther King, Jr., knew that clarity alone can bring community among the oppressed. And clarity comes when the downtrodden protest their oppression in the name of their own dignity, deciding not to dream of becoming someone else, but to stand together with their own kind.

In our dreams of the full measure of justice, ministry together as fully authentic persons in The United Methodist Church, in what ways do we fear and flee the wounds of our oppressed fellows?

* When LGBTQ people excluded from ministry interact with LGBTQ clergy privileged by the Methodist institution, how are we reminded of our own degradation?
* When LGBTQ clergy interact with LGBTQ people privileged by full authenticity, how are we reminded of our own degradation?

How do the wounds of our social location cause us to fear and flee the wounds of our oppressed fellows?

Bearing One Another’s Burdens and Doing Justice

For LGBTQ people who have experienced the justice of “coming out” and living fully authentic lives, can we bear the burden of clergy who cannot have this full measure of justice? In a letter signed by 100 UMC clergy persons:

We serve our beloved United Methodist Church at great cost. We have experienced personally the church's power to harm as it rejects an elemental part of who we are. The UMC's official policy has pushed us, as well as our families, into closets of fear and isolation. We are not deceitful people, but the church has given us no choice. To deny God's calling in our lives would leave a void in the Body of Christ.

For LGBTQ people who have experienced the justice of being pastors, can we use our privilege to work for change in The United Methodist Church for those excluded from ordination and marriage? The danger for LGBTQ clergy (and the congregations that protect them) is that their closets of fear and isolation constrain them from doing appropriate levels of justice for their oppressed fellows. When that happens, LGBTQ clergy and their congregations sustain the most deep and devastating injury of oppression:
The deepest and most devastating injury of oppression is that it produces mute suffering -- suffering that cannot even name its own situation, cannot cry out, cannot say how things really are, cannot protest.

Christ calls us to bear one another's burdens with the moral clarity of the downtrodden, to protest our oppression in the name of our own dignity, the very dignity given to us as creatures made in God's image.

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1 Stands for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning and Queer.

Bureaucratic Brick Wall

In the last month or two I’ve been in situations that have asked me to talk about my calling to ministry. In the past this would bring me great joy, it would put me back to the moments I was first aware of where God was leading me and I would feel those quiet moments of beckoning. Lately, it has been quite a different feeling. I’ve become frustrated and sad, well really mournful would be the correct terminology.
Currently I belong to a denomination that will not allow me to be ordained and to be a ‘self-avowed’ lesbian at the same time. Here’s what the book of discipline says, "While persons set apart by the Church for ordained ministry are subject to all the frailties of the human condition and the pressures of society, they are required to maintain the highest standards of holy living in the world. Since the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching, self-avowed practicing homosexuals* are not to be accepted as candidates, ordained as ministers, or appointed to serve in The United Methodist Church."
*Footnote -- " 'Self-avowed practicing homosexual' is understood to mean that a person openly acknowledges to a bishop, district superintendent, district committee of ordained ministry, board of ordained ministry, or clergy session that the person is a practicing homosexual."

I’m sorry, but I think my status would count me as ‘self-avowed practicing’. I live with my partner, I go to the grocery store hand-in-hand with my partner and one day I plan on making a life-time commitment to this partner. And when this happens I’m not going to keep her out of my life in ministry. So how am I supposed to get around this ‘self-avowed practicing’ bit? What happens when the bishop or district superintendent asks me before ordination? Do I lie, abstain from answering, or just throw it out there and hope that she or he will just let it roll over their backs? I’ve hit the bureaucratic wall, and I want to jump over it but I’m afraid they will throw me back over to where I started.

I know what I feel like is the right thing for me to do but I’m afraid I won’t get very far. I feel like after much prayer and reflection on my calling, I’m being called to continue, just as God created me. Not silently, not timidly, not wearing a mask. I’m to shake the rafters and advocate for change by being exactly who God created me to be, and that includes my sexual orientation, that includes Jessica.

Ministry means the world to me, and for me it’s a personal calling to the United Methodist Church. I could move on and go to another denomination who accepts me and wants me in their church. But I feel specifically called to this church that Wesley started. I have deep roots in this tradition, my theology is based off of the fluidity that this denomination provides and deep rooted heart for the poor and oppressed that we share with its founding members inspires me. To leave and go somewhere else is not an option for me.

So I’ve hit the bureaucratic brick wall and I don’t know how to continue going on. To tell you the truth I’m scared to go on. Its going to be an uphill battle no matter what. I hear God’s call, it’s getting louder and clearer every day, but the wall seems bigger and bigger the closer I get to it as well.

Fighting the Fury

For about the last month now I've been having a lot of trouble controlling my anger.

It wells up inside of me so quickly and takes control of my every word and move. Its a demon wanting to explode through my skin and hurt others as bad as they have hurt me. Its a very physical anger, and many times has run my fist to a wall, a near by desk and once even through a plastic trashcan. I take it out on objects around me to release the power and strength behind the fury, I would rather hurt myself than the person I am upset with.

I've struggled with my out of control anger for quite some time now, and just when I think I have a hold on it and have wrestled it and defeated it, it comes back. It's so frustrating and so defeating when it returns. I've done very well in the last year and a half with not allowing myself to become physical when I become angry, I never want the people I care about to see that side of me, especially the relationship I am in now.

But it has been hard lately not becoming angry at the smallest things. I let the smallest, insignificant things allow me to become infuriated. When I come out of it, I wish I could go back and realize what I realize after coming out of it. This morning in the car ride to work I came to a realization that seems so simple and so easy: I can't control other people but I can control my reaction and myself.

In order to gain more control over my anger I need to have more control of myself. I'm allowing a monster to take over my life and the only way to defeat it is to never even let it in to begin with.

So this is my new mantra:
"I can't control other people but I can control my reactions and myself."

All Means All!

This weekend Jessica and I attended the "All Means All: Called to Witness Campaign Training".

Earlier last month one of our pastors asked the both of us to be representatives from our church to this Reconciling Ministries campaign. Reconciling Ministries is a group of United Methodists whose mission it is to have equality in the Unite Methodist Church. When the Church states its mission, "Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors," Reconciling Ministries wants them to stay true to their words.

So currently there is a large campaign to push through legislation that states that no person can be denied membership based on anything (but right now the big fight is sexual orientation).

At this training we met lots of other reps from other churches and areas of the conference, all of us ready to talk to delegates and voters for Annual Conference. During this training we were prompted to share our "stories". I didn't really realize I had a story to tell, I didn't think whatever I had to say about myself was interesting enough to move anyone to change legislation.

But before the morning was over I was up at the front of the room telling my story to about 40 people I had just met.

Here's the story I told:

I have been raised United Methodist, so I guess you could say being a fan of this church was "in the beginning for me." My parents took us to church because they thought that doing so would be good for us. They have always told us, ever since we were itty bitty, that we could do anything we wanted to, our options were endless, and to shut our ears to the ones who try to hold us back and silence us.

When I was in middle school my parents transferred me to a very conservative Christian school. Around the same time I felt this HEAVY call that I was destined to be a pastor. It was the most real feeling I've ever felt in my life and there was no denying it or silencing it. Little did we realize that curriculum and theological perspective at this school (which was one in the same) was limiting and confined women, and disregarded everything my parents had raised us to be and everything my call was calling me to be.

I was amped up, jazzed, excited about this new destiny for my life! I shared it with my friends and teachers, and their reactions always seemed strange to me. They asked if I was sure it wasn't to be a pastor's wife, or a children's minister. But I was sure. It escalated to friends and teachers calling me a sinner, telling me that my duty as a woman was not being fulfilled and that God was going to be angry with me.

I knew this wasn't right, I knew that the spiritual change that was going on inside of me was more real than any of their words or even the red and black letters they were hurling at me from Romans and Psalms. My parents continued to encourage me and tell me that I was able to do whatever I wanted to do and if I wanted to transfer I could, if I wanted to go to another school and get away from it all I could. But in my heart I knew I didn't, I couldn't be silenced.

A big part of this experience has fueled my passion to become a pastor. For me being a pastor is not to memorize scripture, preach it from the pulpit and to direct and instill guilt into a congregation of very human people. It is my duty to come down from the pulpit and hear all of the stories from everyone, not only in my congregation but out on the street, in the house next to mine, behind me in the grocery store. It is my duty to hear them and speak for them, to be their voice when they are being silenced.

I know this feeling. When the voices of the majority are much louder than your own and take it upon themselves to silence you. As it stands in the UM church right now, I will probably not be able to be a pastor in my church that I so love. There is legislation that says that because I am gay I cannot preach, teach, and be called Rev. They are making me feel like I am forced to choose between my calling and being open in my sexuality. Which is more important to me? I cannot choose! To me they are so connected, they are so tied. I know God has equipped me for ministry in this church, and I refuse to be silenced!

I know this fight will take a long time. We are only currently focusing on membership rights, among many things outside of the church. So I know my personal issue will take some time, but I'm willing to wait until all truly does mean all!