General Conference 2008

Home at last

I have possibly never been so happy to be home in my own place.  My own bed felt so good!

I decided this morning to post here a piece of an email I sent some friends while I was still in Fort Worth.  I understand that everyone had his or her own reaction to the events of General Conference, and I don't post this with the intention of speaking for everyone.  This is where I am, at the present time:

"On a personal note--besides the fact that I caught a cold (inevitable, I think), I am doing just fine.  I knew coming into this mess that it would hurt, that it would be difficult, and that we would experience some measure of pain and rejection.  I also knew that I would be surrounded by new and old friends, a sense of community, and a church to which I would continue to belong.  Also, and this might be the most critical part, I know that this is a marathon and not a sprint.  Things WILL change someday.  We will be accepted, welcomed, loved by our church.  I know it is coming.  I also know that the General Conference does not change the fact that we are still the church and I am still God's beloved daughter.

The pain is that not everyone who is at our table today will be here tomorrow.  The casualties are huge.  The spiritual violence we have experienced here at the hands of our church is horrible.  GLBT folks were disparaged and called names by the very church we love so much.  I mourn the sisters and brothers who will go somewhere else--to a different denomination or out of the church entirely.

But I am still here.  It means something to me to be a United Methodist.  It is the only place I can be.  I've committed myself to this struggle and I appreciate the love and support I've received from you on my journey."

Peace and blessings to all of you, and a special hug for those of you with whom I just spent the last ten days.  I miss you already.

A Word for us on the journey

Isaiah 30:18-21, NRSV

The LORD waits to be gracious to you;
    therefore he will rise up to show mercy to you.
For the LORD is a God of justice;
    blessed are all those who wait for him.

Truly, O people in Zion, inhabitants of Jerusalem, you shall weep no more. He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry; when he hears it, he will answer you. Though the Lord may give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself any more, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a  word behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it."

Scars

Something Jayson said about scars from GC 2004, as well as what Julie T said about feeling uneasy about GC coming up have both resonated with me, and spurred me to finally write my first blog post in this forum.

I am also a General Conference veteran.  In 1996, I attended the entire two weeks in Denver with the Garrett-Evangelical seminar.  In 2000, I attended the Cleveland GC as a volunteer from Broadway UMC and stayed the whole time there as well.  In 2004, I planned not to go at all, but midway through the first week, found I couldn't stay away.  By the weekend I was in Pittsburgh.  And I plan to attend the entire conference this year as well.  "Liberal church nerd".  That's me.  (Thanks to Sue for the label.)

My clearest memories are of the Cleveland GC.  I was a legislation monitor in the Faith and Order legislative committee.  It took almost all of my time and energy.  We met late into the nights and all day on both weekend days.  I did not get to attend the RMN rally, or do any witnessing events like holding open doors and passing out newsletters.  I barely saw my BUMC friends and I certainly didn't get as much time as I would have liked seeing my larger "church family"--some of whom I only see at this gathering, every four years!

But I clearly remember the last days and hours.  The faces of the delegates.  The 14 Bishops who led a hymn sing during a break in the voting.  The witness of Sue Laurie and Randy Miller.  The faces of those who went up front during the proceedings, and their subsequent arrest.  (And the celebration we had outside the jail when they were released.)  The anguished voice of the woman who threatened to jump from the balcony railing when the church's renewed rejection of her sexuality and her very person were brought to life in the voting.  The tears.  The way my stomach felt.  The faces and rainbow rag stoles of those who were watching the proceedings from the balcony--a silent witness.  The rockin' party we had down the street when it was all over--a resurrection of sorts.

That these memories are so clear all these years later reveals just what an impact that gathering had on me emotionally.  It was overwhelming and traumatic.  I remember the ride home; it was pretty quiet in the car.  We were all just shell-shocked and exhausted.  It took me months afterwards to feel like myself again.

Am I anxious about going to Fort Worth?  You bet I am.  But I am also hopeful, afraid, excited, determined, and feeling the Spirit leading me.   We are going to Texas next month.  I can't wait to see all those far-flung family members.  I look forward to the comfort of being surrounded by other United Methodists and having some great worship opportunities.  I will feel welcome, because this is my church and my home.  I know this will not be without struggle, and the work we will do spans many years and at least a few more General Conferences!  But I feel ready to get there and begin the work anew.

I have been carrying around two Audre Lord quotes recently and I think they're appropriate for us:

When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak.

When I dare to be powerful - to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.