On Christmas Eve after the presents are opened, the dishes loaded into the dishwasher, and the guests have left for home, I will sit for just a minute and look at the tree. Then I will bundle myself up and travel down the road to the candlelight service at church. This is always a highlight of my holiday. The beautiful music, the warm candlelight, and the familiar story of wanderers finding crude shelter where their baby will be born amid the animals all remind me once again of what this season is about.
When I
speak here of church, I am speaking of the church I attend nearly every Sunday—Trinity
United Methodist Church in Springfield, MA. The stone cathedral structure next
to Forest Park is quite recognizable to anyone in the Springfield area. It is a
beautiful building, but when I refer to the church, I am really talking about
the people there. Everyone from the toddler playing peek-a-boo from two pews up
to the man from AA who comes in silently, then leaves. Trinity is a warm and
welcoming place.
This is
why it pains me so when I hear about the other church—that larger church we are
a part of—The United Methodist Church. That church has been in the news lately and
not for being warm and welcoming—quite the opposite. That church has tried and
convicted one of its clergy for violating church law—a law that forbids clergy
from marrying couples of the same sex. In effect, that church has punished one
of its members for showing love and compassion.
I struggle
with being a member of these two churches, and I know I’m not alone. Can I go
along worshiping and working in the church that ministers to everyone while,
at the same time, being a part of that other church that excludes, judges, and
condemns? I don’t know.
A couple
of Christmases ago as I entered Trinity for the candlelight service, I saw one
very bright star alone in the sky right over the church. I thought, of course,
of the Magi who were guided by the star. This Christmas I will pray for that light
to fall on both of my churches.
My Church
This is my church - doors open to the noise of the city
This is not my church - doors safely closed
This is my church - hands stretched across barriers
This is not my church - hands rigidly folded
This is my church - a harmony of diverse voices
This is not my church - a monotone of narrow doctrine
This is my church - hearts warmed by love
This is not my church - love limited by decree
My church -
not the closed inn doors
but the welcoming stable.
I totally agree with this. I struggle with these two churches too. Will you put this up on Facebook. I think people need to know that there are two churches and that as Methodists we are proud of those pastors who have the courage to stand up for our Gay and Lesbian brothers and sisters.
ReplyDeleteEmo Phillips joke:
ReplyDeleteOnce I saw this guy on a bridge about to jump. I said, "Don't do it!" He said, "Nobody loves me." I said, "God loves you. Do you believe in God?"
He said, "Yes." I said, "Are you a Christian or a Jew?" He said, "A Christian." I said, "Me, too! Protestant or Catholic?" He said, "Protestant." I said, "Me, too! What franchise?" He said, "Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?" He said, "Northern Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist or Northern Liberal Baptist?"
He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region, or Northern Conservative Baptist Eastern Region?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region." I said, "Me, too!"
Northern Conservative†Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1879, or Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912." I said, "Die, heretic!" And I pushed him over.