‘With the backing of their openly lesbian pastor, a Baptist church in Raleigh, North Carolina has voted to prohibit her from signing marriage certificates until gay couples can marry too.
The congregants said in a formal statement that current North Carolina law - and the language proposed for a vote next year on an amendment to the state Constitution - discriminates against same-sex couples "by denying them the rights and privileges enjoyed by heterosexual married couples." "As people of faith, affirming the Christian teaching that before God all people are equal, we will no longer participate in this discrimination," the church's statement says. The vote was unanimous and brought tears to the eyes of some of the 100 or so members who stood to vote in favor [sic] of the “statement on marriage ceremonies.”’
A short post. Less than a couple of hundred words. And yet today this short paragraph pulled me out of the darkness of depression and reminded me why I answered this call to ministry in the first place. It was never about carpets or curtains or the picture that's been in June's loft for the past decade. It was because I had a vision, a vision that the church needn't be a place where discrimination is openly fostered and exclusion is the norm. I followed a call to a vocation that I knew I would love and hate, and would want to affect with every fibre of my being. I knew that the church had the potential to be a place of openness, tolerance, love, grace… but I forgot. I forgot that the church had the ability to be anything other than cruel, egotistical, poisonous, and malicious.
But today, I read this article and remembered what I’d dreamed, what I had so desperately wanted to work towards. A community of people who are driven, inspired by Christ to stand up and be counted, speak out against injustice and inequality, whatever it looks like. A community of people who are not divided by petty differences, but instead united before a common cause. What this church has done is a beautiful thing, a thing that would bring a tear to the eye of him in whose name they have done it. I daresay over the coming weeks and months they’ll be in for a hard time from many who call themselves “Christian brothers and sisters” (but are clearly more interested in pointing out the specks in other people’s eyes than trimming back the forest in their own), and I hope they will be strengthened every time they open the bible and see in those pages the same kind of radical action for justice that they have displayed.
So this is me, laying my cards on the table. I completely agree with them. That homosexual couples are not afforded the same rights, securities and privileges as heterosexual couples is completely absurd, and we have no excuse, no defence for our discrimination. It is time to change. And I won’t sit by aimless while nothing is being done. I am an instrument of change. Get used to it.
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Blazing Effigies
For those who were interested in my Halloween and Hypocrisy post, there was an interesting article in the Baptist Times this week that caught my eye. I was very interested to discover that the church in the valley who were most worried about my halloween party 'encouraging evil and dark spirits' held a Guy Fawkes making competition. The child who made the best guy would get to burn it on the bonfire. I couldn't help but chuckle. Anyway, for those who are interested, I've copied the article below.
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
American Antics
So I know it's been a while since I last blogged, but I have a very good reason this time. I took my very first trip to the states a couple of weeks ago to spend some time with the people I love out in Georgia. It was magical. In fact I very nearly didn't get on the plane to come back. The food was great, the weather was great, the company was great, the entertainment was great. I loved Atlanta, I loved Peachtree City, I loved Dahlonega, I loved Columbus and I loved Butler. And I loved all the people I spent time with in those places. But there was something stopping me. Something that just made it impossible to drop everything and move myself over there forever (other than my husband, of course). I spent just under two weeks in Georgia, which meant I was there for a Sunday. And so I went to church. Well if any of you were ever wondering what church in middle class suburbia, GA is like, here's a video of what I experienced.
I was left somewhat speechless. You see while I was at college we all sat around watching these youtube videos about starbucks church, and worship stars, and laughed at them. But here I was. I walked up and got my coffee and doughnut holes (something I didn't know existed), and was then welcomed and ushered to my seat in the balcony where what was displayed in the video above was executed with precision. The sermon was about the importance of saving our money. An interesting topic, considering Jesus' words about not storing up treasure on earth, and selling all we have to give to the poor. But that's for another day.
What interested me was the impact this style of worship had on the people in the congregation. The feeling was strangely familiar, despite the fact I've always attended small churches with little musical abilities. I couldn't quite put my finger on it at first, but quickly began to realise that this was very similar to every big concert I've seen at the NEC, or the NIA. It was a great performance, a show. People could choose to sing or not, and it would have no affect on the overall effect. Which seemed odd to me, really. I couldn't help but feel like this betrayed the point of worship. I began to wonder why it was necessary to have the bright lights, the staging, the musical trills by the worship leaders. More and more I was reminded of the X Factor. When did worship become a showcase of talent? I understand the need to ensure that we give our best to God, but this didn't feel like that. It felt pre packaged. It felt like there were a lot of egos involved. It felt like an awful lot of money was being spent on stuff that didn't matter.
I dunno. I have no answers. Something about this kind of worship was doing something for these people. But I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the wrong things that were drawing people in. I couldn't shake the feeling that Jesus wouldn't be as impressed with what was going on in that building as some of those people thought he would.
I was left somewhat speechless. You see while I was at college we all sat around watching these youtube videos about starbucks church, and worship stars, and laughed at them. But here I was. I walked up and got my coffee and doughnut holes (something I didn't know existed), and was then welcomed and ushered to my seat in the balcony where what was displayed in the video above was executed with precision. The sermon was about the importance of saving our money. An interesting topic, considering Jesus' words about not storing up treasure on earth, and selling all we have to give to the poor. But that's for another day.
What interested me was the impact this style of worship had on the people in the congregation. The feeling was strangely familiar, despite the fact I've always attended small churches with little musical abilities. I couldn't quite put my finger on it at first, but quickly began to realise that this was very similar to every big concert I've seen at the NEC, or the NIA. It was a great performance, a show. People could choose to sing or not, and it would have no affect on the overall effect. Which seemed odd to me, really. I couldn't help but feel like this betrayed the point of worship. I began to wonder why it was necessary to have the bright lights, the staging, the musical trills by the worship leaders. More and more I was reminded of the X Factor. When did worship become a showcase of talent? I understand the need to ensure that we give our best to God, but this didn't feel like that. It felt pre packaged. It felt like there were a lot of egos involved. It felt like an awful lot of money was being spent on stuff that didn't matter.
I dunno. I have no answers. Something about this kind of worship was doing something for these people. But I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the wrong things that were drawing people in. I couldn't shake the feeling that Jesus wouldn't be as impressed with what was going on in that building as some of those people thought he would.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)