Methodists, Melancholia and Me
- By Katrina 
When Mary, who first invited me to attend services, told me that she intended to join the church, I was surprised, then happy for her. I started thinking that in a year or so, when I was more settled in, I would also become a member. That was last week. Today, as I sat in church on Mother's Day, Mary leaned over and told me that she'd spent an hour talking with Pastor Steve about the vote at the general conference, and whether she could still, in good conscience, join the church. What vote? I hadn't heard. Two-thirds of the good folks at the general conference had voted to keep the wording in the Book of Discipline. I didn't expect the news to hit me so hard. Suddenly, all the belonging and community that I had felt in this congregation was snatched away. For the next hour, I sobbed as I listened to Pastor Steve talk about inclusion and family and love. He spoke against the vote of the general conference. He talked about gays and lesbians being valued. I didn't feel any of it. It was like salt in the wound, him talking about the very things that were being subtly denied me. No, the general conference didn't say that I can't attend services. They didn't decide that I can't take communion. They never said anything about me being able to be a member of the church. Even so, what I heard in that vote was that my contributions aren't as good as those of heterosexuals. As the third graders were presented their Bibles, I wondered whether my children would ever be standing there. As Mary stood before the congregation becoming a member of the United Methodist Church, I knew that I will never, so long as those words remain in the Book of Discipline, stand there.
Katrina is a freelance writer for TechnoDyke.Com Contact Katrina: kguyaz@yahoo.com
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