I'm about to get all United Methodist in here. I'm an Annual Conference right now (the yearly meeting of all the clergy and non-clergy representatives from the Oregon-Idaho area.) Amazing stuff is happening. Mark Miller is our featured speaker and he's getting us to be (a) noisy during worship and (b) actually dance. It's spectacular. We are also making bold statements about inclusion and our rejection of the hateful actions at General Conference. I'm glad I came, it has been more renewing than I ever thought it could be. However, there is just one little thing I needed to get off my chest.
(Oh, also, about the title: At Drew, we are required to take a class called Religion and the Social Process that examines systems of oppression and our role in perpetuating them. It's often called Oppression 101. And everyone really should have to take it. But that's another post.)
(Oh, also, about the title: At Drew, we are required to take a class called Religion and the Social Process that examines systems of oppression and our role in perpetuating them. It's often called Oppression 101. And everyone really should have to take it. But that's another post.)
Yesterday afternoon, the Oregon Idaho Conference of the
United Methodist Church passed legislation that urged all churches to adopt
statements that make clear our open doors for all persons, regardless of sexual
orientation. It passed with a fairly wide margin, which was heart-warming to
see. However, the opposition speakers
irritated me more than I had expected, and I’ve been wrestling with why I was
so annoyed with the statements made against the legislation. I am not unable to hear dissension, even about
issues I care passionately about, but I wasn’t able to articulate why THIS
dissension tugged at me.
The first speaker against, a pastor with churches in very
small towns, made it very clear that while he would like to see more LBGTQI
persons in our churches, he was concerned about the reception of a statement
like this in his home churches.
Fair. Very fair, actually. (Although, I would say that if you truly want
to see more inclusion, you have to be brave about it. Yes, it might make your job harder, but since
when is this supposed to be easy??) But
he ended the statement by asking us not to “do here to the voices of the
minority (meaning, those who are not comfortable with the inclusion of all
sexual orientation) what was done at General Conference.” Shortly after, an amendment was proposed
suggesting that the statement make clear that we were not of one mind on the
issue. Again, very fair, and very much
mirroring the language from General Conference that was not passed. My pastor pointed out that it was a good
amendment to pass because it showed that we can be a church that disagrees but
stays together. I agree. But.
This amendment, and the reasons to support it, built upon the same
theme: let’s protect the minority here the way the minority was not protected
at General Conference.
And this is where I have a problem.
The ‘minority opinion’ at General Conference is made up of
LBGTQI persons, and those that love them, who face not just discrimination and
exclusion, but who also face incredible violence because of who they are and
what they stand for. They are an oppressed minority who are pushed out of
churches, jobs, and communities. They
are beaten. They take their own lives
because their world – too often spearheaded by their churches – tells them that
everything they are is wrong.
The minority opinion here doesn’t face those risks. So fine, we will use the same language, but I
cannot let it go without pointing out that co-opting the language of the
oppressed to protect privilege has a long history, and it is an ugly
history. We need to not let this
protection of privilege go unquestioned, even if the end results are still an
important move towards progress.
