You Can Leave

I've been very open about leaving the church and struggling with the church in general. I've pretty much bared my soul when it came to being gay in a conservative church. I just wish that I didn't have to write this post. I grew up in the Methodist church. Some would say the church is conservative and others would say it's liberal. I guess it depends on which church someone grew up in. Yesterday I got on Facebook and saw a post from my Aunt. It had to do with the LGBT community and the United Methodist Church. A few years ago the church voted on whether or not a gay bishop should be able to serve in the church. Naturally, it caused controversy and made the church ask the 'marriage question'. Should gay marriages be performed in the church? The committee of the church eventually voted no. They also voted that queer individuals would not be allowed to take leadership positions. I honestly don't know why it was brought up again. Earlier today the church voted again, that the church will not perform gay marriages and that LGBT individuals will not be leaders in the church. Am I surprised? No. Did I know that this was even happening? No. 

I've distanced myself from church. I haven't been to 'church' in over two years. I wish that I could say in the three years after leaving my church that I've 'moved on' but I haven't. I've moved on in the sense of forgiving certain people and letting go about what happened. I haven't moved on from the idea of church. Some queer people had a positive church experience in which they were accepted. Some didn't have that but understood that God loved them regardless. Some left Christianity and religion completely. 

Leaving my church was probably the second hardest thing I've ever done. It was after church and I just decided to go. I know it seems simple but at the time it felt like a revolutionary act. Growing up we were taught to follow rules. We had to get baptized, we need to do confirmation, we needed to go to church, we had to believe in the bible, we had to believe in God, we had to believe Jesus was and is the savior...the list goes on and on. If I didn't believe and didn't follow the rules then I would go to Hell and anybody else that didn't believe were also going there. When I left it was probably one of the first conscious decisions I made for myself. At the time I felt alone and tired. I felt like I was doing something terrible and ungodly. I wasn't alone though and leaving was the best thing I could have done for myself. 

As gay Christians we have always been taught to settle. We can go to church but we can't married, we can't baptize our children and we can't openly be gay. It's situations like this that force church's to speak out and say what they actually believe. It also makes some straight individuals to ask 'why?' 

Why do you have to speak out? Why do you have to cause trouble? Isn't what you have enough? We often use the metaphor to describe church as, 'coming to the table'. It's a place where everyone can come, eat, talk and be with one another. Being gay in the church is like being asked to come to the meal but we can't sit at the table. It is hurtful and demeaning. I can go to church, shake hands, eat food, sing the songs but I can't be a part of the 'group'. I can't honestly and faithfully serve God at a place where I'm seen as 'less than'.  

Over Thanksgiving break I got a message from Melissa, my former youth leader. She asked if we could meet up and I was honestly surprised. I hadn't seen Melissa in over two years. Melissa was the first and only person that I came out to in the church. I didn't expect her to be as loving and accepting as she was. I was hesitant but I agreed to see her. We met at Roostermoon and it went better than I thought. She asked me how I was and what I was doing. We talked about her and her daughters. We then got to the inevitable topic of church and what was happening at my old church, though we hadn't been there in years. It was obvious that it was still a rough topic for both of us. While Melissa had found a church that she loved, I hadn't. 

Nearing the end of the conversation she took my hand and said, "You deserved better."

"I know."

That's not something my younger self would say.

We hugged goodbye, promised to see each other again and walked to our cars. It's a conversation that I will never forget. As much as I wanted to get that part of my life out of the way I couldn't forget the people who loved and cared about me in the church. I remember the last mission trip that I went on. I was still in the closet and wouldn't come out for another year or so. There was one night where there was an 'alter call'. Everyone went up but me. After everyone sat back down and the band started to play that I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I looked up I saw Blair, my other youth leader. He told me to get up and look at him. He told me that he didn't know what was wrong or what was going on but he didn't care. He told me that he would love me anyway and that everything would be okay. Then he wrapped his arms around me and others started to join him. I don't think Blair knew I was gay, in fact I don't think anybody knew. Blair was the only person I knew that actually meant it. I thought that if I left the church I would be committing a sin and abandoning people that loved me. 

I had to leave. If I had stayed in the church I would have never grown. In a sense I was standing up for myself. Others may have seen it as 'giving up', 'a sin' or 'abandonment'. In leaving the church I told myself that I deserved better. The idea of church still terrifies me and I still see it as a place of discrimination and fear-based manipulation. I might go back one day. Before leaving I thought that maybe I could fix the church. That's not my job though. I think the church ruling proved that even more. I wish that somebody would have told me that it was okay to leave. It's okay to find something better. It's okay to find a church and a place where you're able to sit at the table.

DFTBA

-AB