The Journey to a Welcoming Congregation

Good Morning!

June is national Gay Pride Month.  And what better way to celebrate than hearing a song that has become something of an anthem for the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community.  “I Am What I Am”, sung here by actor John Barrowman, is the show-stopper tune from a musical “La Cage Au Faux.”  La Cage was the basis of the movie “The Bird Cage.”

This song speaks poignantly to gay people’s sensibilities.  The need to claim who one really is.  Living authentically.  Living large.  And releasing the need to hide or cover in deference to other’s fears and narrow worldviews.  It’s a powerful message that everyone – gay or non-gay – can claim. 

So along that theme, I’d like to share some thoughts this morning about something that is important to me.  And something I think is important for Pathways, too.  It’s called the Welcoming Congregation initiative. 

A Welcoming Congregation isn’t just a philosophy, or just a generally friendly way of being for a church.  It’s actually a well-tested program – structured, yet flexible.  It’s a blend of dialog, self-discovery, fascinating workshops and prayerful conversation.  All in a safe space we create together, with intention and respect. 

Welcoming Congregation is something that a church voluntarily undertakes.  At the end of the prescribed process, which is a year or more in length, the congregation votes whether, or not, to self-certify itself as a church that welcomes gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.  That’s GLBT, for short. 

Welcoming Congregation is quite common in many progressive churches, especially Unitarian Universalists.  Almost every other UU church in North Texas is now a Welcoming Congregation.  The folks at Horizon up in Carrollton just voted last month to become Welcoming Congregation, after a year-long process

Making GLBT people feel more welcome is the stated reason for the program.  But the impact of the journey to Welcoming Congregation can be transformational -- for the whole church. 

Social justice and fairness are hallmarks of Unitarian Universalism, and also part of our Pathways DNA.  So my message today doesn’t focus on the most obvious injustices of a homophobic society.  My working assumption is this -- as UUs, we can generally agree that GLBT people experience discrimination in society, and, we can also agree in principle that it’s unfair. 

So, I’d like to present a more nuanced argument for why being a Welcoming Congregation is important, for everyone.  And I think the best way to illustrate is to share a personal experience of what it’s like to be “different” and marginalized in society.  I hope it will let you walk a mile in my “gay shoes.”  And I hope you will see that the “cost of the closet” is much higher than being denied basic civil rights or paying higher taxes, just because of who we are.  So, let share with you some experiences from our last vacation. 

Larry and I both love to take cruises.  Cruising is just a great vacation and perfect way to see many interesting places.  And because your hotel comes along, you only have to unpack once! 

Princess Cruise’s slogan is “Escape Completely” and they do a good job of facilitating that ideal.  You can really disconnect from much of the world.  But it only goes so far.  Even though we’re sailing aboard a ship with 4500 passengers and crew, and we may not know another soul on board, we’re still not really escaping completely.  Instead, we actually wind up just recreating a community on board, a microcosm of society. 

And since I am of a stigmatized minority on land, so it is at sea, too.  Because of that, Larry and I have learned to “pack” differently from non-gay folks.  That’s packing in the emotional and psychological sense of being gay on a mainstream cruise.

You see, Larry and I go as a couple.  We’re going on vacation together, just like the other 800+ committed couples boarding that ship.  Unlike the others, however, we seem to spend a lot of time and energy making choices and explaining ourselves.  Over and over and over.  Something that straight people don’t have to do. 

At the root of this is something called the “heterosexist assumption” – that is the assumption that everyone is heterosexual, or should be.  This heterosexist assumption is so huge and so pervasive, that coming out never ends. 

Gays and lesbians, because they have a hidden, stigmatized sexual identity, are constantly at choice, with each new encounter, of how much or how little to disclose.  We constantly assess our environment for threats – both physical and psychological. 

Our choice to disclose is based on how safe the individual or situation is perceived to be.  Or sometimes, our choice is about how much time or energy we’re willing to invest in the encounter.  Coming out is not an event.  It’s a way of life.  And it gets really tiring. 

So why bother, you might ask?  Isn’t it easier to stay in the closet?  Don’t ask, don’t tell?  Well, each of us has to make that choice continually.  And for me and for many others, the answer is “no” -- it isn’t really easier to stay invisible. 

It’s a paradox.  We come out to be left alone!  We come out to stop the suspicion, prying, speculation and gossip.  We come out to be fully present and authentic.  And sometimes there’s a penalty for doing so.

Look, we’re two middle-aged white men traveling together.  We don’t look like brothers, no sign of any wives or girlfriends nearby.  We wear wedding rings that match.  We are together constantly on our vacation.  And we are attentive and show kindness to one another, like most happily married couples.  We’re not hiding, yet we still feel pressure to disclose when dealing with others.  As I said, it gets tiring.

Recently, we flew to South America to take a cruise, hoping to leave the world behind to “escape completely.”  Yet, being different was almost immediately in our faces, before we even arrived in Argentina.  The customs and immigration forms they passed out before landing asked use to declare “single” or “married.”  They ask about traveling “alone” or as “a family”.  Well, we’re legally married in Canada.  But we are traveling on U.S. passports, and our marriage isn’t recognized in our own country.  And we’re dealing with the official documents of a foreign country, a place where we don’t speak the language.  And frankly, we’re on vacation, we’ve been traveling all night, and being an activist doesn’t sound very alluring at that moment.  So we shrug, sigh, and checked off single and traveling alone, just to expedite.  Don’t ask, don’t tell.  We both die a little when we feel coerced to hide like that. 

Later, we checked into a hotel and the clerk confirmed that we really do want one king size bed.  He was tactful about it and handled it respectfully.  Some hotels don’t.  Would they have asked if we were an opposite sex couple with different last names?  I don’t know.  But again, the question comes up, another reminder that we’re different. 

When you board a cruise ship, they always want to snap a photo of each person or couple.  The photos are popular and very profitable for the cruise line.  The photos are displayed for sale in the public areas of the ship for inspection and purchase.  Married straight couples don’t give it a thought -- of course they will pose together, usually arm-in-arm.  Sometimes with a forced smile, if they’ve been fussing at each other for an hour waiting in line to board! 

So, it’s decision time again, of how out do we really want to be?  I’m sure that closeted gay couples would find this stressful.  It can make them feel like they are being forced to disclose their orientation by posing together.  Or feel forced to pose alone, though they are traveling with their partner.  Larry and I always have the photo made of us together.  It turned out pretty good, too!  

Valentine’s Day was during our cruise.  The ship staff made big deal out of it.  There was a big “renewal of vows” ceremony, performed by the captain, in the five-story atrium.  In all the flyers for the ceremony, nothing is said explicitly about “opposite sex couples only.”  But all the announcements and promotional photos of the event are all clearly opposite sex couples.  Same with many other ship offerings – like “his and hers” couples breakfast in bed.  “His and hers” couples massage. 

We weren’t just excluded, we were ignored.  We’re invisible.  If we really wanted to do the vows renewal thing, we could probably go and do it without a dustup or open conflict.  But would our motivation be to show our love for one another, or to make a statement?  We decide we’d just rather not. 

Dining on a cruise ship is always a big production.  Each time we enter the dining room, they ask if we want to share a table with others.  This usually means other couples and usually they are straight.  So, it’s decision time again.  Do we say “no” and sit by ourselves in peace?  Or say “yes” to sharing a table and maybe have to explain ourselves? 

Well, we often say “yes” to sharing a table.  And we usually do disclose in some way, though it can be an awkward moment.  Most of the time, our table mates are very cordial.  But you see, just the fear of the unknown – the thought of maybe being seated with judgmental, hostile people – really ramps up the stress.  Even if it doesn’t happen often. 

Each night on the ship there are some great shows and part of our decision is where will we feel the most comfortable and enjoy ourselves most.  We tend to go see the comedians.  But we always have our guards up, for “the gay jokes.” 

I remember one comic who was so homophobic.  His hateful, sophomoric string of jokes about Brokeback Mountain had most of the audience hooting and laughing.  To us, it felt like a hostile atmosphere.  We both felt angry, humiliated, and threatened. 

Most people go to shows without even thinking about it being safe.  Cruise ships usually warn if a comic is doing an adult humor show, if that offends.  But never do they warn about gay jokes.  So those must be okay for any crowd.  Again, we “pack differently” and gird ourselves for the all-to-common jokes that will get a cheap laugh on us.  

From this description, it may sound like taking a vacation is an ordeal for us.  But it’s really not!  Most of the time on vacation is pleasant and relaxing, but nearly always punctuated by reminders that we’re different.  I’m just sharing our reality -- of being different, being excluded, being ignored, being invisible.  We still love cruises.  But we just have to work harder to “do” straight cruises as a gay couple.

Okay, so, you’ve heard a little about what it’s like being a gay couple in a straight world.  The cruise was just one context.  It’s like this to varying degrees throughout our lives.  It’s in our faces, day in and day out.  We’re constantly making decisions on how much of ourselves to share.  Who is safe and welcoming?  Who is it best not to waste time with disclosing to?  Or worse, who could actually do us harm if they knew? 

Even though tolerance and acceptance of LGBT people is generally growing in much of society, it’s interesting to me that gay and lesbian cruises are becoming more popular, not less. 

A cruise of a thousand other gay men or lesbians and their families is an amazing feeling.  We create our own safe community space.  We can walk hand-in-hand on the deck, like any other loving couple, without fear of stares or comments.  There’s freedom to meet others without the need to explain.  It’s just a relaxing, safe space.  It’s a rare chance to be the majority.

We like the all-gay cruises, but Larry and I usually choose mainstream cruises because there are many more choices and they are much less expensive.  We trade off the feeling of being in the majority for greater flexibility and lower cost.  And, also because we’re both strong men who have learned how to be ourselves, and usually doing a good job asserting our right to be present and respected as customers, like anyone else.  We just have to work a lot harder sometimes.

[Pause]

I see the cruise ship as a pretty good metaphor for a church.  Our church.  We join together to form a community that is a microcosm of society as a whole, in many ways. 

Larry and I chose to join a mainstream church, if Unitarian Universalists can be called that! 

True, there are some predominantly gay churches, over in Dallas.  But they are exclusively Christian.  We live out here in Keller.  And neither of us identifies as being Christian. 

So it’s a choice we make – to attend this church, where we can believe as we choose and feel welcome as a couple.  We treasure all our Pathways friends.  We do not see a need to hole up in a church way over in Dallas, nor do we surrender our spiritual needs in order to “be gay” in church.  We like the diversity and the unity of Pathways. 

So, doesn’t that mean Pathways welcoming now?  Well, yes, it is.  But more can be done to transform us to being a truly Welcoming Congregation.  I described some of the nuanced messages we received on our cruise and generally in life that tells us “you are different” or worse, “you are invisible.” 

It doesn’t hit the radar of most heterosexual people because the assumption of heterosexuality is so pervasive.  It’s like asking the fish to describe the water in which it swims.  Most people aren’t homo-phobic.  They are homo-unaware. 

So I respectfully offer up this observation.  A sign that we have important work to do is the kind of questions raised in response to the Welcoming Congregation initiative.  It’s already having a healthy impact, pushing comfort zones a bit, questioning deeply held assumptions.  It’s causing deep reflection.  

It’s okay to feel uneasy and unsure -- that’s usually a sign in life that that growth is occurring.  You and I were raised in a homophobic, heterosexist society.  It remains that way today.  So why wouldn’t heterosexism follow each of us to church on Sunday, un-challenged because it’s un-noticed?

There are some concerns that are commonly voiced about the Welcoming Congregation initiative. 

For example:  “if we market ourselves as Welcoming Congregation, won’t that turn people away?  After all, we are trying to grow and attract new members in a conservative area. 

Well, Welcoming Congregation is primarily an “inside job.”  It is not our signature ministry.  It’s not the primary focus of this congregation.  And it’s not our lead marketing message to the community at large. 

What it is is a program of internal reflection and dialog among us, members and friends of Pathways.  This isn’t a marketing campaign.  It’s home-work and heart-work, among the Pathways family. 

Also, I think that those who would be put off entirely by Pathways being a Welcoming Congregation might not find Pathways a good overall fit for themselves anyway.  Our beliefs are large and inclusive, and that is off-putting for those looking for absolutes and dogma in a church. 

Another concern is “okay, if we do this, how public will we be with Welcoming Congregation?”  

Interestingly, the “how public?” question is what gay and lesbian people deal with all the time.  How much to disclose, how much to keep silent about.  “How public” is the equivalent of “how out” our church is willing to be in welcoming people who are different, even those who are stigmatized.  And this is a decision we’ll make, together. 

Another common question -- “Won’t this make us a ‘gay church’?” 

To answer a question with a question -- does that mean Pathways is a straight church now?  Or is it a white church?  Or an able-bodied only church now?  Or a couples church?  Are we fearful that we’ll attract too many people of color?  Or people with disabilities?  Or singles? 

If we have 10, 15 or 20 gay and lesbian people show up next week because they hear we’re undertaking the Welcoming Congregation process, and they are willing to give their time, resources and commitment to this church, will we turn them away for fear that we’ll be known as a “gay church”? 

Honestly, I’m not minimizing those concerns.  It’s important that they be voiced, aired and examined in the light of day, in our safe space called Pathways.  The resistance and discomfort we feel is a good sign.  And that it’s being voiced shows we have trust and respect for divergent views. 

The pain pushes us, until vision pulls.  So I hope we all feel safe and keep asking, challenging, thinking and sharing.  

Welcoming Congregation is getting past our fears about differences – and not just sexual orientation or gender identity.  To build on the cruise metaphor further, the rising tide lifts all ships.  A congregation in this sexually-averse culture that explores something as sensitive, personal and meaning-laden as sexual orientation is sure to grow in all other ways too. 

A church that welcomes gays and lesbians, and demonstrates it is welcoming through doing the certification work, sends a message to all kinds of folks that this is a church that is walking its talk.  We’re demonstrating hospitality and inclusion, even for those whom other churches demonize and attack.  Or those whom other churches merely tolerate but don’t really welcome.  It sharpens all our awareness of how we look at, act and treat others.  And it questions the assumptions we make about others we view as different. 

Gay or not, surely you can relate to this feeling of difference?  For heaven’s sake, being Unitarian in the religious conservative area like this is very similar.  You are often at choice whether or not to disclose and engage.  I know many of you struggle, whether or not to “come out” as a UU.  It’s the same dance for me as a gay man and for my sisters and brothers who are lesbian, bisexual and transgender. 

To be honest, I’m not always comfortable with this topic myself.  But I also know how transformational it is to finally tell the truth, embrace who one really is.  To at last live authentically, with contentment, in the light of what I believe to be the divine gift of loving one another. 

Welcoming Congregation is a sign of a great church family.  It’s the sign of church that “gets it” and understands all those who it seeks to serve.  Gay people and others who are marginalized are like the canaries in the coal mine – if we’re visible and happy, the church is a hospitable, inclusive place.  If we are not visible, beware – there’s something toxic present.

What I’m getting at here is that to me Welcoming Congregation is about creating a space that is safe, where we can engage and dialog.  We can agree, disagree and agree to disagree.  It’s a safe space where we can challenge each other’s assumptions, without questioning motives.  That’s a practice that I think the sometimes difficult nature of Welcoming Congregation can teach us that can serve us well in many other matters. 

The great, ancient poet Rumi summed up how I see Pathways and the Welcoming Congregation, too.  I leave you with this invitation. 

Centuries ago, Rumi wrote:

“Out beyond ideas of right-doing and wrong-doing, there is a field.  I'll meet you there.”

I believe that Pathways is like the judgment-free field of which Rumi spoke.  A safe space in which each of us is fully present and authentic, all feeling fully supported, respected and heard. 

Nameste.