This past Sunday was a big day for the PC(USA), friends. On Sunday Amendment 10-A officially went into effect (along with another amendment changing denomination's Form of Government). I've written about 10-A before, but in case you missed it, check out this post for some links to basic info and other people's thoughts. Also as I've mentioned before, 2PC is a More Light congregation so naturally folks were pretty excited on Sunday. The sermon, given by two people with strong ties to 2PC and 10-A, was absolutely wonderful, and full of emotion and courage. You can listen to it here if you're interested.
There was a lot of talk about how we need to get rid of the barriers we humans have built up--that those barriers were destroyed when a certain friend of ours came along (you may have heard of him...went by the name of Jesus?). And I couldn't agree more. I mean, whatever higher power you believe in (or don't believe in), I just don't think we're all meant to be separated and hating on each other. I was struck by the beauty of communion on this particular Sunday morning, and yet again by how beautiful a thing a community like Second can be.
Maybe everybody in the room isn't sure how they feel about 10-A, or how they feel about whatever other issue is at the forefront of discussion. Maybe everybody in the room is struggling with different things--money, family, what the heck they'll be doing a year from now...
Maybe everybody in the room has a chance every Sunday morning for all of those things to not matter.
You might as well just take the maybe out of that last sentence. Here we are this collection of people, young and old, employed and jobless, strong in our faith or questioning. But it doesn't matter. Come communion time, just forget those divisions and go on up there and get yourself some bread of life!
At some point during the service we heard the phrase "live in hope." I'd be lying if I said I could remember where (sermon, a prayer...who knows. Sorry!). But those words stuck with me. Sitting there in the pew I thought about the difference between what it might mean to be hopeful, and what it might mean to live in hope. I s'pose we can be hopeful without really making that much of a commitment. I'm hopeful that test turns out well, I'm hopeful that boy likes me...whatever it is. You hope it works out, but maybe it's not the end of the world if it doesn't.
But to live in hope! To give your whole life to being hopeful. That is something different. To constantly be hoping for a more loving world, to be hoping that things will get better, to be hoping that every single person can find a place where they are loved and accepted for being just who they are, whether that's in a church community or elsewhere.
So, I think I'll try and live in hope, friends. I'm living in hope that God will continue to move through the YAV program, through 2PC, through the greater church and through the world. Not sayin' I'll be perfect at it. But if anything's worth a little effort I figure this is.
Love,
Allison
PS- Apparently, as I've been informed, "Live In Hope" was the last hymn of the morning.
Showing posts with label 10-A. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 10-A. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Presbyterian Happenings
Hey friends,
If you're of the PC(USA) persuasion you've probably seen by now somewhere on the internet or elsewhere that a little over a week ago we passed Amendment 10-A. In case you haven't, and because other people are better at explaining it than I, this link has some good FAQs. Also here are comments from CNN and the New York Times. Basically though, the change adjusted ordination standards to allow for the inclusion of LGBT folks into ordained ministry.
This post, I think, is going to be more about my processing of the reactions that followed the 87th vote than it is on my actual opinions about the issue. But, in the interest of making this at least somewhat personally invested, I feel like I should tell you that I'm glad it passed. Really glad, actually.
Of course there have been reactions all over the spectrum to these happenings. Folks over at More Light Presbyterians are super stoked about it, while others call it "yet another tragedy." I think it's hard to remember, when you're so emotionally invested in an issue, to consider the people on the other side. I went with a couple of my fellow Nashville YAVs to a presbytery meeting and after the presbytery had voted on (and passed) 10-A, a man stood up and mentioned that he had been on "the losing side" before, and knows that it's not fun. (Or something to that effect.) And that makes sense. I mean if it hadn't passed and I had been surrounded by people celebrating that, I probably wouldn't feel awesome.
So, I don't know. After listening and reading and digesting all of these reactions, I really think I've found the most meaning in the ones that don't even support a particular side of the discussion and instead call for appreciating our differences. For example, after the amendment passed, 24 former moderators of the denomination signed this letter encouraging unity. You know, whether you're excited about 10-A or not, maybe we can all still be friends? I was recently at a gathering during which one person commented: "I may not have voted for Obama, but I didn't move to Canada either." And I think that makes a lot of sense. Another blog on 10-A reads: "We are united in Christ through our baptism, not our opinions. We are adopted into this family, this crazy, cranky, contentious, sometimes and unexpectedly beautiful family." That same blog, though, says that maybe it's ok for some people to leave. Sure, the numbers aren't exactly stellar right now, but I can see the merit in not trying to force people to stay. I know there are plenty of family analogies in the world, but maybe that's because they make sense! Families disagree, families fight...maybe that one relative cuts everybody else off. But you know what? That family can still be a family. Hopefully, they can still sit down at the dinner table (or maybe a committee meeting?) and love each other. I also do not think it does any good at all to be in a Church with just people like ourselves. The key is for both sides to realize they have room to grow. Which can be really really hard for a lot of people (myself included). The nay-sayers must push themselves to be more open-minded, while the people voting yes must challenge themselves to remember that there are some people pretty upset with and scared for the church right now, and they need some love too.
Really I'm not sure exactly how to condense the thoughts floating around in my head, and I'm pretty sure I just keep typing myself in circles. But I also wish I was courageous enough to have this conversation with more people face-to-face. I don't have the slightest clue why I can type things here that I'm too scared to say to a good friend. But I can. That's not to say I haven't had my fair share of "Oh yay 10-A passed!" conversations with people who I know agree with me. But I feel like sometimes I'm just too scared to stick up for it when I know a really intense conversation could come out of it. It's the Peacemaker in me I suppose (enneagram anybody?), but it's super frustrating sometimes. My mind says what I believe, but in an effort to avoid confrontation I end up mumbling my way through some as-neutral-as-possible statement. Then I just end up frustrated and embarrassed that I couldn't stick up for it, if for nothing else than the people I know who care about it even more deeply than I. So anyway. Maybe people will read this and find this part cowardly and maybe a little bit ridiculous. But it is what it is, and for some reason I can say that here.
All of this is to say that I'm excited and hopeful for the PC(USA). While I don't think this discussion is anywhere near over, I'm thinking this is a pretty big step for us. A good big step. Granted, I don't know exactly where that step is going, or how long it'll take to process...but the fact that the question got asked in the first place, and that there are enough people voting yes in presbyteries out there to have a majority? That means there are a lot of people out there who are for making our denomination even just a little more welcoming. And that's a lovely feeling.
So that's that. If anybody wants to force me into a confrontational (or friendly) conversation feel free to, but I just probably won't be the one starting it...
Love,
Allison
If you're of the PC(USA) persuasion you've probably seen by now somewhere on the internet or elsewhere that a little over a week ago we passed Amendment 10-A. In case you haven't, and because other people are better at explaining it than I, this link has some good FAQs. Also here are comments from CNN and the New York Times. Basically though, the change adjusted ordination standards to allow for the inclusion of LGBT folks into ordained ministry.
This post, I think, is going to be more about my processing of the reactions that followed the 87th vote than it is on my actual opinions about the issue. But, in the interest of making this at least somewhat personally invested, I feel like I should tell you that I'm glad it passed. Really glad, actually.
Of course there have been reactions all over the spectrum to these happenings. Folks over at More Light Presbyterians are super stoked about it, while others call it "yet another tragedy." I think it's hard to remember, when you're so emotionally invested in an issue, to consider the people on the other side. I went with a couple of my fellow Nashville YAVs to a presbytery meeting and after the presbytery had voted on (and passed) 10-A, a man stood up and mentioned that he had been on "the losing side" before, and knows that it's not fun. (Or something to that effect.) And that makes sense. I mean if it hadn't passed and I had been surrounded by people celebrating that, I probably wouldn't feel awesome.
So, I don't know. After listening and reading and digesting all of these reactions, I really think I've found the most meaning in the ones that don't even support a particular side of the discussion and instead call for appreciating our differences. For example, after the amendment passed, 24 former moderators of the denomination signed this letter encouraging unity. You know, whether you're excited about 10-A or not, maybe we can all still be friends? I was recently at a gathering during which one person commented: "I may not have voted for Obama, but I didn't move to Canada either." And I think that makes a lot of sense. Another blog on 10-A reads: "We are united in Christ through our baptism, not our opinions. We are adopted into this family, this crazy, cranky, contentious, sometimes and unexpectedly beautiful family." That same blog, though, says that maybe it's ok for some people to leave. Sure, the numbers aren't exactly stellar right now, but I can see the merit in not trying to force people to stay. I know there are plenty of family analogies in the world, but maybe that's because they make sense! Families disagree, families fight...maybe that one relative cuts everybody else off. But you know what? That family can still be a family. Hopefully, they can still sit down at the dinner table (or maybe a committee meeting?) and love each other. I also do not think it does any good at all to be in a Church with just people like ourselves. The key is for both sides to realize they have room to grow. Which can be really really hard for a lot of people (myself included). The nay-sayers must push themselves to be more open-minded, while the people voting yes must challenge themselves to remember that there are some people pretty upset with and scared for the church right now, and they need some love too.
Really I'm not sure exactly how to condense the thoughts floating around in my head, and I'm pretty sure I just keep typing myself in circles. But I also wish I was courageous enough to have this conversation with more people face-to-face. I don't have the slightest clue why I can type things here that I'm too scared to say to a good friend. But I can. That's not to say I haven't had my fair share of "Oh yay 10-A passed!" conversations with people who I know agree with me. But I feel like sometimes I'm just too scared to stick up for it when I know a really intense conversation could come out of it. It's the Peacemaker in me I suppose (enneagram anybody?), but it's super frustrating sometimes. My mind says what I believe, but in an effort to avoid confrontation I end up mumbling my way through some as-neutral-as-possible statement. Then I just end up frustrated and embarrassed that I couldn't stick up for it, if for nothing else than the people I know who care about it even more deeply than I. So anyway. Maybe people will read this and find this part cowardly and maybe a little bit ridiculous. But it is what it is, and for some reason I can say that here.
All of this is to say that I'm excited and hopeful for the PC(USA). While I don't think this discussion is anywhere near over, I'm thinking this is a pretty big step for us. A good big step. Granted, I don't know exactly where that step is going, or how long it'll take to process...but the fact that the question got asked in the first place, and that there are enough people voting yes in presbyteries out there to have a majority? That means there are a lot of people out there who are for making our denomination even just a little more welcoming. And that's a lovely feeling.
So that's that. If anybody wants to force me into a confrontational (or friendly) conversation feel free to, but I just probably won't be the one starting it...
Love,
Allison
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