A welcoming church

The impact of a truly welcoming church

A true welcome can mean a lot

by Larry L. Lee

At this point, I have been a Presbyterian for about 30 years. I grew up in nondenominational, Lutheran, and Covenant churches. However, when I made my own decision regarding the church to which I would belong, it was a Presbyterian. At that time, my decision was not based so much on the tenets of the Presbyterian Church USA as it was the particular church, along with the minister and the music programs of that church.

For nearly 20 years, I had just gone to church on Sunday morning, made my pledges and contributions, and did little or nothing with regard to the work in and of the church. While I had never "come out" to anyone in the church, per se, I was at the point in my life where nearly everyone I knew was aware that I was gay. When I made my decision and stated that I wished to become more active in the church, I was nominated and elected as a deacon. This was prior to Amendment B, and while I was not flaunting my life style, I certainly did not hide the fact, particularly if anyone asked me directly. I never felt real secure because I was unsure what the reaction of people within the church would be upon finding out I was gay. Because of that and because I had many guilt feelings which I had retained from my youth, I was always very cautious about what I said and did. During my growing up and realization of my sexual orientation, I had done a considerable amount of soul searching and consideration of my life, to say nothing of the hours and hours of prayer. These prayers ranged from "change me," through "help me accept this," to "help others accept and understand." The latter, of course, remains a significant portion of my pleas to the Almighty.

At one point during my first 20 years, I had a seven-year relationship which ended in a breakup because that partner did not concur with my feelings and beliefs regarding fidelity, chastity, monogamy, etc. When I ended that relationship, I was pretty much resigned to the fact that I would not have another. Then, just prior to my election as a deacon, I met another man and within a very short time, we began living together. After the first relationship ended, I was bitter about the whole relationship idea, and fell directly into the stereotypical "gays cannot have love and/or a solid relationship" attitude of the right wing and other homophobes. However, when this man came into my life, all that changed, and we began a very wonderful relationship. There was, however, one very major problem, AIDS. Tim had been HIV positive for almost eight years and although not physically obvious, had full-blown AIDS at the time we met.

During the next two years, Tim often attended church with me and it was during this time that I was elected and ordained a Deacon. While no one at the church ever said anything positive or negative, it was usually obvious to us that we were very welcome. Of course, there are always nagging doubts without a clear statement on the part of the church that gays are indeed welcome. I will never forget calling our new senior pastor with great fear and trepidation saying "I just put my lover in the hospital, will you come to visit him." Naturally, I not only wondered if he would say "yes," but whether it would be the end of my relationship with the church. Without a bit of hesitation, however, the pastor responded the he would, but since he didn't know Tim, wanted me to be there at the same time. Needless to say, that was the last problem I had expected to have, and we overcame the arrangement difficulties within a minute!

Eventually the time came when it became clear to us that Tim's life situation was very tenuous. About two months before his death, Tim asked to become a member of the church. Part of this was to assure that he could be buried in our church columbarium, which is for members only, and we were unsure of session approval of his status as my "significant other." This required a bit of special consideration on his behalf because he was too ill to make the three hour long classes required of new members. It was decided that if he read the material and made his testimony, nothing else was required. This was the first time in his life that Tim had joined a church and I think it was the happiest day of his life. Following that morning worship service, I had a dinner in Tim's honor for the senior pastor, his wife, the three session members who had attended his membership questions and their spouses, and a couple of other couples and friends from the church.

Tim made it to church one additional time to worship after joining; the second time he made it was when I brought his ashes there for burial. Because he wanted a dinner after the memorial service, I prepared the dinner and served it with the help of nonchurch friends, because it was our funeral committee's policy not to serve lunch or dinner. The expression of love by these friends, according to our senior pastor who marveled at the whole event, was a very strong reinforcement of the "normalcy" of those of us who are generally not considered to be such.

The thrill of all of this was the incredible support I received from my congregation. I have often said after this event, I was treated just like any other widower in the congregation. I had lost my lover, significant other, spouse, partner, or whatever phrase may be chosen, and I was made to feel it was the same as if I was straight. To this day, I always receive compliments on the memorial flowers, and am asked as to my feelings and personal status.

This kind of confirmation and approval should not have to wait until one is in great need or dire straights to be made aware. It should be made clear that all are welcome in our church and sexual orientation does not matter. Because of the nature of this issue, it seems that until there is a major event in one's life, the clarification is not made. Every gay should be able to feel welcome, and not one will, until the church makes a clear statement to that effect.

The final understanding and definitely the strongest affirmation that has ever happened to me regarding church occurred this past fall when I had open heart surgery. Not only did I have a tremendous amount of support from fellow church members, but one of my dear friends on the session, and a divorced cancer survivor, wrote: "I know it is very difficult to go through something like this without the love of your life by your side." She added: "Only one who has been through a similar event without love by your side can know how difficult something can be."

As the Presbyterian Church (USA), we must make sure that all Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, or Transgender people know we can, and will be, love by their side.