The Postponed General Conference of 2020 concluded on Friday, May 3, 2024 after many historical changes made to The United Methodist Church. The three biggest changes have been described as the Three R’s: Regionalization, Revising the Social Principles and Removing Harmful Language. The UMC is a worldwide mainline denomination, connecting vastly different cultures with a Wesleyan heritage of grace and holiness. But in 1972, language was introduced to the Book of Discipline that would be a source of pain and contention: “the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching” (I’ve written an entire graphic novel about that story!). Over the years, while some worked to remove this language, others doubled down and the denomination increased its restrictions against LGBTQ Christians.
Many of us entered this General Conference with hope for change towards inclusion, but a very real legacy of pain and disappointment. After all, the last time the denomination had met in 2019, things actually got worse for LGBTQ people in The UMC. But last Wednesday, May 1, I had the privilege of sitting in the room as the first item to remove harmful language came before the voting delegates. Without much fanfare and no real debate, I almost didn’t notice as we easily repealed the ban on gay clergy, except for the quiet tension and release of all of us queer clergy gathered together to watch. As I walked towards a small worship gathering after that first vote, with each step it dawned on me what had just happened. There I was, weeping, laughing, hardly able to talk, being hugged over and over again by other gay clergy and allies. I was surrounded by Christians who’d been making room at the table and working hard for inclusion since before I was born. People who had paved the way for me to love myself, to love who God had made me to be. People who had sacrificed much, lost much, and gained even more by insisting that I too belonged at the table of Christ. People who had spent a lifetime helping hearts change, even my own heart.
The removal of the Incompatibility Clause and other anti-LGBTQ language from the discipline is a monumental occasion, but it is so much more than a moment in time. It is the culmination of countless faithful working to tear back the roof, to tear back every barrier to Christ that has been placed in the way of the queer community. Like the friends in the Gospel of Mark 2:1-12, our allies and faithfully queer kin have believed so deeply in the great love of Christ, they would accept nothing less than the full inclusion of all people inside the full presence of Jesus. They have helped us survive, and opened eyes and hearts to a greater and more expansive church.
Today’s image shows an M.C. Escher-style cathedral, re-imagining the Gospel story of Mark 2 with friends tearing back the roof to make room for LGBTQ+ people in the church. It is a reminder that you were never incompatible, my dear LGBTQ friend. It is also a reminder that we often rely on the love and mercy of others to find our pathway to freedom. It is a reminder that the world, and even the church, is still a difficult and often unsafe place for queer people, and that there is yet much work to be done to change hearts and minds to believe more deeply in God’s expanding love for all. But most of all, I hope it is a reminder of the words of Jesus to all of us who need to hear it: “Get up, take your mat, and go home.”