Covenant Stories: No Right Answers

Story #18 in the Covenant series

The next chapter in our story is one I tell with fear and trembling. It is one of the lowest moments in our church history – at least for me. My fear is not of telling the story but of being the only one to tell the story. I’m sure everyone who was involved remembers it in their own way and with their own spin. At the time I felt trapped in the middle, trying to hold the church together, trying to keep everyone happy, and trying to do the right thing. In the end several families left our church and others were very angry with me. It was one of the few times in my life when no amount of good intentions or careful negotiation could prevent a painful outcome. There seemed to be no right answers.

It was 1998 and we were still meeting at Rolling Oaks Christian Church. We had just formalized our agreement with Trinity Baptist Church to move forward with our plans for a building of our own. With their financial backing and help, for the first time I felt confident that our church would survive and put a building on our land. It all began with a phone call from a nervous-sounding woman. She was cautious in speaking to me but very clear and straightforward.

“My name is Mary.* I’m an ordained Baptist minister and a chaplain at a hospital here in town. I’m in a long-term, monogamous relationship with a woman. Her name is Karen. We have two daughters, both from Karen’s previous marriage. Celia is in 4th grade and Julie is a sophomore. We’re not asking everyone to agree with our relationship. We’re not trying to change people’s beliefs. We just want to come and worship at a Baptist church. We both grew up Baptist and we would like to worship in the Baptist tradition. We saw your website, and we were wondering if we would be welcome at your church.”

There it was. The biggest issue currently facing Christianity, the issue that has torn apart churches and denominations all over our country, had presented itself to our church. And we weren’t ready. Our church had never talked about homosexuality because it was easier not to talk about it. And though I have since come to some conclusions of my own about homosexuality and the Church, at the time I was still uncertain about this issue.

I knew of no other response to Mary but to welcome her to worship with us. Whether or not homosexuality is a sin, it seemed clear to me that we were all sinners and all welcome in the church. They came to visit the next Saturday night and came back every Saturday night after that. The nature of their relationship was clear, but no one asked and they didn’t tell. They were nice people, and their daughters were wonderful. Julie was bright and beautiful and intelligent. She was full of questions about faith and God. And Celia was perhaps the sweetest child I have ever met. She would sit on the front row with my oldest daughter, who was her age. Never have I seen a child who listened to my sermons with more attention that Celia. Once, when I was cleaning up after church, I found a note Celia had written to my daughter during the sermon. It said, “Be quiet! I’m trying to listen to your dad.”

Everyone seemed happy and at peace. Mary and Karen came to various church events and were beginning to make friends. It seemed at first that our unspoken, “Don’t ask and don’t tell” policy was working just fine.

Then Mary and Karen asked to join the church. I felt that this was no problem, following my previous reasoning. Whether nor not homosexuality was a sin was irrelevant. Every person who joined our church was a sinner. However, there were some wise and careful people in our church who realized that there was a potential problem. One woman said to me, “I have no problem with Mary and Karen joining our church. But the fact is, the majority of the people in this church believe that homosexuality is sinful. We’ve never talked about it, but you and I both know that is the case. If Mary and Karen join and no one says anything to them, they will likely assume that our church blesses and affirms homosexual relationships. If we are going to be in community with them, shouldn’t we be honest with them about this?”

That’s when I realized that “Don’t ask and don’t tell” is not a good policy for a church. It’s not good because it’s not honest. At this point I made a very big mistake in judgment. I thought we should just get the issue out in the open. Mary and Karen weren’t there the next Saturday, so I gathered everyone around and told them that Mary and Karen wanted to join the church. Further, I made it clear that I thought there should be no problem with this. I thought the issue would be fairly clear-cut. That was naive of me. As it turned out, some of the people in our church had not realized that Mary and Karen were in a relationship. One woman was very vocal in the meeting and did not want them to join. Some became angry at her and spoke out in Mary and Karen’s defense. Suddenly the room was filled with angry and uncomfortable people. A few were very unhappy with me for springing this on the church without more careful preparation. And then, to matters worse, Mary and Karen found out that the church had a discussion about their relationship and were understandably embarrassed and angry with me for dragging their relationship out into the open.

I was horrified and grief-stricken. Suddenly my friendly little church was in the middle of a controversy. Our elders met for several hours. Around the table were dear friends who had different thoughts about this issue, but several things seemed true to us:

We all liked Mary and Karen, and we felt a serious obligation to their daughters, who had come to feel at home in our church. It also seemed clear that we had to find a way to be honest with them and tell them that the congregation as a whole was not able to affirm their relationship. At the same time, we felt that if they joined our church we would need to tell the staff at Trinity Baptist Church. They had a right to know the theology and practice of our church if they were going to give us money. And we knew this issue would be controversial for Trinity if anyone in their church found out we had an ordained, lesbian minister in our church. It was certainly possible that their staff might want to avoid the issue altogether and just quietly withdraw their support. So our building and future were also at stake in this matter.

I was very proud of our final decision. Our elders would recommend to the church that we offer membership to Mary and Karen and their girls, whatever the cost. If we lost the building we would simply continue to meet in borrowed and rented space. If some of our more conservative families left, we would have to live with that. I agreed to meet with them and tell them that in truth, most of the members were not able to affirm their relationship. But we would continue to pray and seek the wisdom of God in this matter and asked them to do the same.

It was as honest as we could be. It was a true statement of where the congregation stood on this issue. I thought honesty would be enough.

It wasn’t.

As it turned out, Mary was determined to be just as honest with us. She said that in good conscience, she could not honestly say that she was still seeking the truth in this matter. “It took me 14 years to accept who I am,” she said. “I can’t go back to asking if I’m okay with being a lesbian. I believe God has blessed our family. If we go back to asking that question, it will kill us.” She told the truth. And so did we. Mary and Karen were devastated, especially Karen, who had experienced heartbreak after heartbreak with various churches through the years. They thought they had found a home with us. But they could not join us, even with the most liberal terms we could offer.

A few weeks later I saw the four of them from a distance in a store. Celia pointed at me and turned away to hug her mother. It seemed clear to me that I was a symbol for her of the church that had turned them away. I never got over the sorrow of hurting Celia and Julie. Even today it hurts me to think of it. The two families who were vocally opposed to Mary and Karen left the church anyway. Apparently even having the conversation was too much for them. This was when I learned that sometimes our sinful and broken nature leaves us with no good answers and no good way out of hard situations. No matter how carefully we approached the situation, people got hurt.

Mary and Karen didn’t join our church, so we didn’t have to tell Trinity about it. We got our precious building in the end. And our building is a good thing. I’m glad we have a place to worship.

But I’m still uncomfortable thinking about it. Sometimes I look at our building and think of Celia sitting on the front row and listening so carefully to my sermons. In those moments I wonder what Jesus thinks about what happened all those years ago.

Gordon Atkinson

Years later I wrote a very strong essay at my blog about the Church and homosexuality. It was a defining moment for me, theologically. While I was writing, anger and indignation rose in me so that I could not control myself. It was one of the most emotional things I have ever written. They say that anger mostly comes from pain. I’ve always known that the anger behind that piece came from within me and was in some ways directed back at me. I keep thinking that if I had been ready to deal with the issue, we could have found a way through it without people getting hurt. Maybe that’s impossible. But I always wonder about it.

*The names of this family have been changed to protect their privacy.

Tagged as: church, Covenant Baptist Church, faith, The Covenant Stories