Anonymous

ANONYMOUS
ELDER

I was raised in the Presbyterian Church - the First Presbyterian Church of Wheaton, Illinois. I went to Sunday school and sang in the youth choir. I have amazing memories of touring Europe with the teen choir. I can still hear our voices echoing in cathedrals. I can still see the tear-streaked faces in the standing room only crowd at our concert in a Yugoslavian church, and I can still taste the tears we shed with them. My brother sang, too, and my parents were there - they chaperoned the trip.

My Grandma was and is a Southern Baptist. She worries about everything, and she prays about everything. I've always figured that if one day passes that I forget to pray, well, she's got me covered. She has been a subtle, yet profound influence on my life.

I went to a small Lutheran college, and was involved in the college congregation, so I like to think that my roots are Presbyterian, Baptist and Lutheran. During my junior year of college, Pastor Benson called me into his office for a chat. He asked me if I had ever considered going to seminary, and that perhaps I should. Well, it had maybe crossed my mind a bit. I said I'd give it some thought but...

You see, it was during that same year, my junior year of college that I realized I was gay.

I never went back to talk with Pastor Benson about it again. It was easier not to have the conversation with him that was going on in my head...

"No, see, Pastor Benson, I really can't consider it. You see I can't tell you why I can't consider it. You see, I could consider it... well I would consider it if I wasn't.... well, maybe I will consider it if I can figure out whether or not I'm... You see, they don't let pastors be pastors if they're gay. You see, I don't think churches really even want gay people in them. You see, I can't be gay, because if I'm gay, I can't belong to a church. Or I could belong to a church, but I just can't ever tell anyone...

The message I had received loudly and definitely from the church and society was that I wasn't welcome.

It was the first time I experienced a thought that love for me might be conditional.  I was raised by a family and a church to believe that love is unconditional.  God's love is unconditional.  "For God so loved the world that God gave his only begotten son, that whosoever... "With God, all things are possible."

Enter the asterisk next to these Bible verses.  Whosoever, except  All things are possible, except...

God's love for me suddenly seemed conditional.

The result of these thoughts? For ten years following college, I didn't attend church. After attending church my entire life, I just left. I finally decided that my relationship with God could he good - just God and me.  That would have to do.

That didn't work either. My faith was there, but it was empty and distant. I had no faith family to share it with, and I had no outlet through which to serve. I thought about visiting churches, but somehow the idea of attending and remaining anonymous sitting somewhere near the back because I couldn’t tell any of them about myself didn't seem very appealing.

I eventually heard about a couple of gay churches in town, but I wanted to go to a church that's more representative of the world I live in. I want to go to a church that's a bit like the church I grew up in.  I’m not a fan of segregation.  I just want the whole gay issue to be a non-issue, and all the religious conflict and infighting to be resolved so we can all focus all of our efforts on other issues and people that really need our work.

I have a lot of friends who are still turned off by church. I tell them about St. Luke and churches like it, but most don't want to hear about church. Just like me, they’ve gotten the message loud and clear: Churches don't want us. It's tough to undo the damage. They've been driven away from the church, just as I was.

These messages don't just exclude, and they don't just drive people away from church; such messages drive people away from the love of God.

Is this what the church intends to do?  It is what's happening.

I celebrate the fact that I was able to rediscover my church home. I celebrate the fact that places like St. Luke exist.  I wish I had known of St. Luke and other More Light churches 10 years ago.

I wonder if I'd still be welcome at the First Presbyterian Church in Wheaton, Illinois.  I hope I would, but I don't know.

You cannot know how deeply I truly appreciate the opportunity to serve as an Elder at St. Luke.  To be asked to serve in a leadership role, when ten years ago I thought I wouldn't even be welcome in the building... The opportunity to lead and serve is incredibly precious and humbling.

To hold hands with my church family and to sing Amen at the end of each service takes me back to the safe place in the church choir loft that I felt as a teenager.

I pray for the eventual, inevitable day when we will have inclusive policies everywhere in every institution. I pray for the day when all God's children know that God's love truly is unconditional, that with God all things truly are possible, and that they too can join hands and sing amen.

Will our church hasten that day and proclaim God's love for all people?  Or will it continue to drive people away from the love of God?

This was the last stole left of the ones I wore during my days in ordained ministry.  I gave it to her on the occasion of her own ordination as an Elder at St. Luke Presbyterian Church in Wayzata, MN, in gratitude for her friendship and all that she has done for the Shower of Stoles Project.

Martha Juillerat
Founder, Shower of Stoles Project
2006