You may have seen the news about the tensions in the United Methodist Church over the issue of human sexuality. I have the honor — and major responsibility — of serving as a delegate to our General Conference May 5-15 in Minneapolis, where we will vote on the future of the United Methodist Church. For more information, you can find links to the plans and proposals that will be voted on at General Conference at INUMC.org. Beyond plans and proposals are, however, real people trying to be faithful to God as they engage in the messy reality of holy community.
Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder when I’m having my pastoral conversations about LGBT+ inclusion in the UMC and at Cumberland (conversations that happen in coffee shops, my office, meeting rooms, my members’ homes) how the conversations may be similar in nature to those that pastors have had historically on other social issues.
I can imagine Mainline Protestant pastors in the 1950s and ‘60s listening to the fears that their parishioners voiced about the anxiety-inducing reality of the African-Americans who were beginning to fill in the pews of majority-white churches.
I could imagine ministers through the power of the Holy Spirit doing the gentle dance of active listening and correction as their members cited their fears of the “other,” grounded in the curse of Ham in Genesis (historically taught as a generational curse on African people) as their biblical grounding for white supremacy and a need for racial separation.
And I can imagine the frequent, painful, messy, awkward, uncomfortable pastoral conversations and prayers that through the grace of God slowly dismantled the power of individual racism in the hearts of churchgoers.
At one point in history, racial inclusion in majority-white churches was “doing something new” when compared to the 400-plus years of separation and supremacy, fostered and supported by churches.
But as the colors in the pews more accurately reflected the kingdom of God, over that time it was evident that a new spirit was put within faith communities, removing the heart of stone and rebuilding, piece-by-piece, a heart of flesh.
I can’t help but see the parallels. And of course, the reality of LGBT+ inclusion and all other movements of inclusion (present and future) disrupt one reality and rebuild another.
But, to be truly prophetic not only means tearing down but re-building (Jeremiah 1:10) toward God’s beloved community.
And words are easier than actions and relationships. It’s much easier to preach a prophetic sermon (especially to like-minded people) on social justice than it is to do the messy, emotional day-to-day spiritual work of re-building that is necessary to make inclusive communities possible.
But, Jesus, our role model in the faith, gave his life for his friends so that all may have a place in God’s kingdom. I am praying for God’s courage and faithfulness to abide in the hearts of all of those in Christian ministry. And may faithfulness and courage abide in mine.
The Rev. Ronnie Bell is pastor of Cumberland United Methodist Church. Send comments to [email protected].
