Over the next few months, members of the Reconciling in Christ (RIC) Task Force and others throughout the Northern Illinois Synod will share faith stories that highlight the importance of the RIC process.
As a child, you wanted to be a part of the greater picture in life around you. You tried hard to fit in. You wanted to be like the other boys around; the only issue was you liked the boys around you. You practiced hard to be like the other boys. You played soccer, track, volleyball, and swimming. The feeling of being included as part of the team was rewarding, and many championships were won. The only thing was you liked boys too. So, you hid.
Growing up in school had its challenges. Like all kids in Jr and Senior high, there is no more of a challenge than fitting in. Did you excel in books and get labeled a nerd? Did you go out for sports or cheerleading and be labeled the hero’s and most popular? Did you play an instrument or sing in choir and labeled a freak? Did you go into theatre and be labeled a faggot? Tough decisions that you wrestled with especially if you liked boys. So, you hid.
With so much fear and self-loathing you turned to a place of safety and compassion every Sunday. The light streaming through the stained-glass windows was beautiful; the light was magical and filled with so many colors. Like a rainbow. The music was inspiring, and the organ made the setting grand with the words of the hymns empowering. The scriptures of God’s love and wrath were spoken. You sat there and listened intently, and though you wanted to fit in, somehow it was heard differently. Communion felt like a sin. So, you hid.
It’s a difficult experience you have from others. You look normal. You can even act normal. You may even get married hoping the gay away. But you are often abandoned once others find out you’re not their normal. You may fear for your safety; you look for refuge instead of being on the streets. You become the political folly of politicians and society when they need a scapegoat. You may be shunned by your family and friends. You chose your new family. You can be discriminated against in housing, employment, and health care. And yet you know of a supposed safe space called church, so you search for the words of Christ in your everyday hiding. To hear “hate the sin but love the sinner” hurts as well, often allowing others to hide behind dogma.
For some, the pain is too deep. Their wanting to sit at the table of the Lord is just a dream because religious prejudice is too deep. And, for others, they will hear the words of Christ answering their longing for love in the church. They know deep in their soul that God’s grace and love is there for them even though they have always loved someone of their same sex.
They look to the bible again, this time through the Holy Spirit and with their heart open, and you see the Gospel is one of inclusion.
Christ never said, “I will not love them for who they are.” Christ never said, “Only certain ones may come, and I will give them rest.” Christ never uttered the words homosexual, gay, freak, sissy, queer, homo, pansy, or prissy.
And the pain they felt for so long in hiding can be lifted and healed by the knowledge that Christ loves them and never told them to hide.
And now, you know me. I can sing from my heart that, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so…Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes! Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so.” Share the Good News of Jesus Christ with others who may feel marginalized. Tell them that, in God’s eyes, we don’t live outside God’s margins. God has no margins. God loves us. God created us in God’s image and said, “I am well pleased.”
Let us pray:
Loving God, source of all creation, you endowed all people with inherent dignity and worth, and you invite us to treat each other in ways that honor and value that worth. Guide us all as we seek your justice here on earth, and give us the courage to reconcile with those who have been harmed by religion. We ask your blessing as we seek to co-create a world where people are free from injustice, violence, and discrimination. Amen.