Methodist Corner

14. Describe your understanding of an inclusive church and ministry.

The inclusiveness of the Church is stated rather strongly in Article IV of The Constitution of The United Methodist Church. It states, “The United Methodist Church is a part of the church universal, which is one Body in Christ. The United Methodist Church acknowledges that all persons are of sacred worth. All persons without regard to race, color, national origin, status, or economic condition, shall be eligible to attend its worship services, participate in its programs, receive the sacraments, upon baptism be admitted as baptized members, and upon taking the vows declaring the Christian faith, become professing members in any local church in the connection.” I cannot imagine a clearer statement concerning the inclusive nature of the Church. This statement is a faithful expression of the Church seeking to live out the confession of the early church from Galatians, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28).

Of course it is easy to proclaim inclusiveness; it is much harder to practice it. I regret to say that I once viewed discussions of inclusion as academic at best, and at worst, nothing more than an attempt by some to re-interpret scripture for their own ideological ends. I now realize that the issue is much broader and deeper than I ever realized. For the most part, the discussion for me had been mostly academic and only marginally theological or spiritual, as I never could quite seem to connect the issue of inclusiveness to a theological paradigm. When the Bible said “all,” I assumed that everyone new that all meant all.

That changed several years ago however, when my daughter asked me a very interesting question. She wanted to know why Chicken Little could not have been a girl. After watching a new animated movie, she wanted to know why the main character had been depicted as a male instead of a female. The gender of the character was not integral to the story, or so I thought, but obviously it made a difference to her. That simple question caused me to reevaluate my assumptions concerning gender and the very real way that issues of gender affect our lives. It forced me to admit that maybe there was something I was missing. Soon followed the realization that if I truly wanted to speak with integrity concerning God, then I must start to look critically at, and ask the “hard questions” about, the assumptions I had come to regard as sacred.

For my daughter, the gender of the fictitious character, Chicken Little, obviously had a symbolic meaning. That symbolism had very little to do with whether the sky was falling and everything to do with how she views the world in which she lives. Getting a glimpse of this perspective through her eyes helped me to see this discussion in terms that are much more indicative of “inclusion versus exclusion” and much less about the hot topic issues of our day. The discussion then, takes a decidedly theological turn. So as we continue to speak about this fluid, ever evolving dynamic, between the world as it was, the world as it is, and the world that we hope for, pray for, and long for, those of us who attempt to speak concerning God are faced with a significant dilemma. How do we engage our theology such that the possibility of marginalizing/oppressing/ignoring certain hearers is diminished and ultimately eliminated? How do I speak to my daughter in such a way that the God who is being revealed to me can then be revealed to her in a liberating and life-transforming way?

Recognizing the significance of our theology and more importantly what it says about who we are and who we experience our creator to be is not only important, but essential if we are to encourage humanity toward the realization of a just and diverse global society, where our world changes as our understanding of God is informed and transformed by our human experience of the divine. This recognition should allow us to re-appropriate contemporary images and symbols in a way that continues to press us toward a new and glorious future while remaining culturally relevant and historically connected.

I can’t begin to say that I’m anywhere near arriving at “the answer” in response to questions raised about “inclusion,” but I understand now how our individual theology is shaped by our cultural/social learnings. Often times, as in the case with my daughter, on the surface, the discussion seems to have nothing to do with inclusion, and less still about theology, but I now see how all things are shaped by who we are and more importantly who we experience our creator to be. This is especially important for those of us who wish to speak a fresh word of hope into the lives of those we meet. It becomes increasingly important for us to remind all people that liberation, reconciliation, and empowerment are very real possibilities

As important as I believe that to be, a personal experience from my early adulthood illuminated for me my own struggle to proclaim the hope of liberation, reconciliation, and empowerment to all people. Feelings of fear fueled by racism, that I thought had long since been purged from my psyche by education, contemplation, and recognition of the sacredness of all people surfaced rather unexpectedly. I began to realize just how privileged by, what Peggy McIntosh calls “white privilege,” I actually am. Although at the time I would have bristled at the suggestion that I could or would knowingly participate in any form of racism, intuitional or otherwise.

This personal experience occurred when my wife and I decided to move our children from a predominately white private school to a racially diverse public school. We had been telling ourselves that the only reason we enrolled them in private school was because of our concern for the quality of education they would receive and had nothing to do with race or class. Eventually, we would begin to ask ourselves what lessons our decisions were teaching them and how would this effect the way they viewed the world in which they lived. We did not know what to call it at the time, but the implied curriculum our children were learning from was becoming more and more of a concern.

The fear that I felt when we finally made the decision to yield to our convictions and enroll them in public school reminded me that, like it or not, racism and classism, can often lurk just beneath the surface of our carefully crafted façade, ready to expose itself when we are face to face with people and situations we have never really taken the time to understand. I believe though that we made the right decision, and while it has been a struggle at times, the lessons learned, by both my children and myself, have been worth it.

This recognition of racist/classist fears in my own life helped me to see more clearly these same fears within others. I have not been faced with this, but I do wonder what my parishioners would say if someone of minority status visited and joined our church. I would like to think that they would be accepted with open arms, and I am sure they would be. But it would not come easily. And when it comes to issues of sexism, we openly accept women in areas of leadership, but most people I talk to would rather see men in positions of authority. I have always affirmed the inclusion of women in ministry, both on theological and ethical grounds, but I often wonder how true that is of the people in the pews. As open as we Methodists are to women in ministry, I often feel that what is hidden in people’s hearts cries louder than the public discourse affirming full inclusion.

I fully support our church’s position on full-inclusiveness and I applaud the work of those who have engaged themselves in the daunting task of liberating and freeing us from our inability to see beyond the boundaries of our own cultural strongholds and fe
el truly enriched having heard their voices. I have much to hear and also much to learn, so I look forward to joining my voice with theirs in the radical call to inclusiveness in the Body of Christ.