When something is important to me, really important to me, I don't always have the words to give it voice immediately. Oh sure, I can usually come up with something off the cuff, but off the cuff doesn't generally do justice to what I am feeling on a deeply emotional level. It would have been more timely had I managed to write this several weeks ago. But, I didn't. I am writing it now -- timely or not.
Over the past month or so, Facebook has been aflutter with folks posting a "Back to Church" video. As many of my friends have attested, in many ways it is lovely. It celebrates a welcoming church. It challenges the assumptions that can keep people out of the pews. It invites people to return, or visit for the first time. Lovely, and yet...
Another friend posted a different message. A message cautioning folks to be mindful before signing on with this campaign of sorts. If you dig a little deeper, you realize that the people behind this lovely video clip have a theological stance which would make many people I know vastly uncomfortable. True enough, it would seem, all are welcome. As long as you are just like us! As long as if you aren't just like us, you will do everything in your power to become just like us. Open and affirming, they are not.
I tend not to jump into the fray of such "conversations" on Facebook, but I felt compelled to share what others had shared with me. The video strikes me as a bait and switch -- folks who are progressively minded sign off on it because it sounds like good stuff. Except for the not so good stuff. Problem is, you have signed off on it. All of it.
Most of my friends chose to stand by the video. They felt the message was too good, too powerful to dismiss because of theological differences. That is certainly their choice. That is not my choice.
It has taken me a while to articulate why this is so important to me. Then last night, I realized why it mattered so much. When I baptize a baby, or dedicate an infant as the case may be, I like to walk down the center aisle with the child in my arms so that the congregation can welcome her. As the organist plays "Jesus loves me" or a lullaby, I turn off my lapel mike and whisper to the little one. "This is your church home. You will always be welcome here. No matter what. Always." And I tend to tear up, just a bit, as I hope and pray that as much will indeed be the case.
I don't think you can easily differentiate the content of that video clip from the character of the theology. Just like you can't stop bedbugs from hitching a ride on a suitcase. (I do apologize for that image... it does work, though.)
It's a commercial. PR. It feels good to feel welcoming. But that person in the third pew from the front? That couple all the way in the back? That little one who was just baptized? They are people who depend upon the wide welcome they have come to know within their congregation. And if there is even a chance that the narrow vision that framed the video clip in question will compromise their safety, their ability to be who they are as beloved children of God... well, the choice I will make isn't even a question.
Actions speak so much louder than words. When I show up on campus at the ALLY meeting organized by the LGBTQ community and their allies, my presense speaks volumes. The church has hurt a lot of people around issues of sexuality. It is important to me to be present, to suggest that there is more than one voice. This matters. It's important to someone. It's important to me.
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