Chapter Two
Rev. Paul Escamilla, Jane Marshall, Shirley W. Cooper

Why should we care about this issue?

Paul Escamilla is the senior pastor of Walnut Hill United Methodist Church in Dallas. His writings on worship, the sacraments, and the spiritual life have appeared in Weavings, Quarterly Review, and Circuit Rider.

Indeed, why should we care? After all, when we have cared in the past for a person or group beyond the margins of the mainstream it has only gotten us into trouble. If we know our Bible, we know how true that is.

Take, for instance, the genealogy of Jesus, according to the Gospel of Matthew. It includes the likes of Rahab and Ruth, women of either ill repute, conniving instincts, foreign blood, or some combination of the three. They made their way into the fold of the faithful by hook or by crook, their deviousness matched by the vulnerability of caring people who agreed to take them in. Once inside the fold, what did they give us? Okay, a savior, but what else? The fact is, they smeared and sullied a perfectly good genealogy, all because people were willing to care for others beyond the margins.

If we trust the Bible, we should heed its lessons about the high price of caring for those people whom society and the respected religious establishment have deliberately, purposefully, and reasonably excluded. It just doesn’t pay. For example, Jesus was caring toward Samaritans, sinners, tax collectors, and lepers — a whole host of taboo groups — and look where it got him: crucified. Peter responded to an astonishing vision of unclean animals coming out of the heavens, and next thing you know, he was standing in the unholy living room of an unpedigreed Gentile, pronouncing the church open to the unkosher. The turmoil that resulted from this "caring" gesture is unfathomable. What might have been a storybook unfolding of the early church’s history instead became bogged down in controversy, reactionism, and infighting.

If the Bible means anything to us — and if we claim to live by its authority — we should pay close attention to the example it sets before us: When people chose to follow God’s direction and welcomed outsiders, they lost. In some cases, they lost their lives; in others, they lost respectability and credibility with the mainstream. At the very least, they lost some of their traditional moorings, as well as sleep at night.

Of course, to be fair we should acknowledge other facts, as well. These same people who chose to care turned out again and again to be vessels of grace, instruments of the Spirit, prophets of truth, and in one case, the Messiah. And the cared-for ones — the Rahabs and Ruths, the Samaritans and Gentiles — often ended up becoming salt and light, heralds of truth and good news, even close kin to that very same Messiah.

Why should we care about a matter that stirs so many to turn their heads the other way? There is no good reason I can think of, unless it would be that our lives depend on it.

After all, the Bible is what shows us that, even though caring can get us in big trouble, it finally is what saves us, too.

·

I cannot answer for you, but as for me:

I care because I know so many gay men and lesbians who suffer because they are not fully accepted by the church they love.

I care because, in taking the time to study this issue with doctors and psychologists, I came to realize that sexual orientation is innate. We can no more change what we are, gay or straight, than we can change the color of our skin or the length of our arms and legs. And so, if homosexuality is God-given, how can I not pronounce it good?

I care because I resent the cruel and baseless stereotyping that all homosexuals are molesters or predators — as preposterous a notion as suggesting that all heterosexuals are faithful to their vows of marriage.

I care because my church professes to be composed of followers of a Christ who loved all people unconditionally and impartially. Yet this is the same church that tells homosexuals they can attend services and support their congregations with their tithes, but cannot teach Sunday school, chair committees, direct music, or work with youth.

I care because I’m sickened by the division this issue has caused in the church I have loved for so long. How can any of us who call ourselves United Methodists share communion, and at the same time, hold fast to an official policy that reflects exclusivity and injustice?

I care because I want desperately for my "I" to become "we": to know that the United Methodist Church, at every level, embraces all of God’s people unconditionally.

·

As followers of Jesus Christ, how can we not care about any issue that causes so much pain for so many people? In Matthew 22:39, Jesus identifies the second greatest commandment: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." If we truly love our neighbors, we will know them well enough to be concerned about issues that they find particularly disturbing and painful. The relationship between the United Methodist Church and its gay and lesbian members is just such an issue.

What happens when we become friends with the gay people in our churches? Only then can we truly understand how the pejorative language in the Book of Discipline is the result of misunderstanding, misinformation, and false stereotypes. The better we know our lesbian and gay friends, the more hurtful the words in the Discipline become.

I am the mother of a wonderful son who happens to be gay. Against any measure, he has proven himself an asset to his community. In school, he was a National Merit Scholar; today, he holds a responsible position with the Environmental Protection Agency. He is a kind and generous person with strong integrity; he also is a devout Christian, a choir member at his United Methodist church. Yet the church’s position regards him as a second-class member, ineligible to participate in all aspects of church life.

I am especially offended that the Discipline disparages the relationships of gay and lesbian couples. My son and his partner have had a loving, committed relationship for 11 years, and I know many other gay and lesbian couples who have shared a life for 30 years or more. I believe these relationships deserve the same respect, recognition, and honor as my 44-year marriage. Yet the church considers them unworthy of blessing.

We understand the absurdity of the church’s stance on gay issues when we take the time to know the people it affects. We also then know how much the church is missing by not fully including its gay members with their considerable talents and dedication.

By taking the time to know the families and friends of gay men and lesbians, we understand how they, too, are suffering because of the church’s position. I feel fortunate that I’m a part of a United Methodist congregation that fully embraces its gay and lesbian members in its life. But as a member of Parents, Families, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, I have seen parents come to our meetings in great distress — not because their children are gay, but because of their churches’ condemnation of their children. Ultimately, many leave their churches because they have been so alienated.

Why should we care about this issue? Because we, as the church, must bear part of the responsibility for the hurt that has been so unjustly inflicted. We must not let our proclamation of God’s unconditional love be drowned out by the words of exclusion and discrimination.