I am an openly gay woman attending First , Penetanguishene, Ont. This congregation has welcomed me with open arms since I joined in August 2014. This still surprises me.
I have no claim upon the Presbyterian Church of Canada. I am not a member. I do not take communion. I do not recite the opening lines of the Apostle’s Creed. My life experience has been with a Baptist church.
I am an apostate. I have “tasted the goodness of the word of God” and I have fallen away (Hebrews 6). It is too late for me. I hope it is not too late for your children and grandchildren.
I grew up confident in the knowledge that God hated me. After the new covenant was declared, after the sheet full of unclean animals was lowered down to Peter and declared clean, after grace is declared for everyone else—only then does Paul write his vitriol of Romans 1. An exemption, an exclusion, is declared for homosexuals. We are not welcome in the new covenant.
God’s hatred was made clear to me on the faces of his people. In my 20s I attended church with my partner Sara. We were treated as lepers. We were not demonstrative. We were not open about our relationship but people knew. People in that church would not even address me by my name. To this day, people in that church will not let me on their property because I am gay. I left the church. I searched for reasons to not believe in God and found many. My faith died.
In 2014, under the duress of another failed relationship, I came back to church. I was alone and desperate and had no one to whom I could turn. I tried the church down the way, where my belief system would be more at home. The music was awful and the preaching was weak.
My first Sunday at First, Rev. Mark Wolfe preached powerfully about the crumbs that fall from the table that the dogs are allowed to eat (Matthew 15). It seemed a bit of a welcome. The music was the music of my childhood. The people have become Christ to me. Their ongoing fellowship is the Shekinah.
I am not ruthless. I am not arrogant. I am not full of envy, strife, murder, deceit and malice. I am not these things—at least no more than anyone else. Paul tells me that this is my very nature. I don’t agree. I try to live with patience, kindness, love, joy and hope.
In the Hebrew scriptures we read of the Day of Atonement. The High Priest would lay his hands on two goats to transfer guilt and shame to them. One goat would be sacrificed at the temple. The other goat would be led out into the wilderness. Typically this goat would be thrown off a cliff to avoid the risk of it finding its way home.
I survived the cliff. Like any goat, I know where to find the food. I have found my way home. Will you let me on your property? Will you look me in the eye? Will you speak my name?
It is too late for me. Neural pathways formed in childhood are not going to change just because someone struck a committee. I remain without faith. This is the price of my integrity.
What will you teach your grandchildren? Are gays allowed to have a full life? Or shall we be allowed in only if we sit in the back pew and agree not to breed? How many more children of the church will be driven into the wilderness?
