Social Justice

A Confession

The United Methodist Church, which I have considered my church, succumbed to a ruthless and effective political strategy and to the meanness of human imagination. It fell because hearts failed, courage failed, and because too many of us cannot tell the difference between hate and love. It fell because we have relied too much on wealth, power and the prestige of our white American identity to sit at the heart of the church.

Living in faith community is always about living in the problem of hypocrisy and hope.

However, the United Methodist Church told me this week that I am no longer welcome at its tables, in its worship spaces, nor in its puffy cloud heaven. It said this hurtfully, harmfully and with the clear intent to destroy the souls of some within our gathered community.

Churches are very good at singling out people to group into unworthy villains that must be excluded even unto their death. In their history, the Methodists have been no different, as it was a Methodist minister who uttered the phrase “nits make lice” and blotted out the lives of ~148 people.

Since 1972, it has been pulling particular people out of its community and telling them to go stand in the corner. It put a name on a placard and placed that label around each person’s neck. It then started pointing its fingers and calling its names. The UMC aimed its hate, its fear, its aggression, its domination, and its control at those people-creating of them a targeted and vilified people group.

Some of us have held hope that this abuse and shame could be transformed and redressed in our lifetime and maybe even by our own hands. Repentance, forgiveness, reconciliation, and redemption are all church-y words we like to throw around, and more than that, they are tenets of faith some live by.

An act of repentance from me is to recognize that I never really had claim on that hope, and it takes a certain kind of hubris to believe that it is up to me to set anyone free. I have participated in joy with United Methodist faith communities and been treated as beloved, significant, and worthy. Many people have not. I failed to see them-I have failed to see you. I did not move soon enough, fast enough or with enough conviction into the corner where you have been kept.

I offer this confession into your hands.

If this kind of declaration matters to you: I am not a United Methodist. You don’t have to fear me in that way. I am not always safe, and I often don’t get anything right. But I am committed to an ethic of love, and to an active resistance to evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves, including when that form is what has been my church.

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