Our words of assurance this week tell us not to be anxious about anything, but I am anxious, because this sermon is going to get a little bit personal in a bit.
But to start, this week I thought I'd take a break from our sermon series to talk about a couple different things that might be of interest to the congregation. The first of those things is what's going on in the denomination, the directions we might be going in, and how our Classis is responding.
Depending on how closely you follow events in the RCA, you may or may not know that we seem to be heading towards some kind of reckoning. We have some very, very conservative churches, mostly in the midwest that want us to adopt certain theological positions. And some very, very liberal churches, mostly here in the east, that want us to adopt other theological positions. And the wedge issue that's driving a lot of the conversation is the same one that's split and schismed other denominations – human sexuality.
A few years ago, a group of conservative and liberal RCA pastors were called together to form what's called the Vision 2020 Task Force. Their job was to envision different scenarios about what the Reformed Church might look like if we maintained the status quo, if we split into two denominations, or if we stayed together as one denomination, but with different affinity groups and a different polity. The idea was to put these different people together, have them sort out what would be an acceptable way forward for the very conservative and very liberal, and put together some sort of recommendation to be voted on at the 2020 General Synod.
Of course, because of Covid, the 2020 General Synod never happened.
So, the assumption was, that all the work would simply be delayed until the 2021 General Synod, which will happen in Arizona this October.
But there are some problems.
First, the composition of the task force takes into account some of the very conservative and the very liberal. Without much thought or representation for the multitude of RCA churches who find themselves either in the middle, with congregations of people who may disagree on these issues but still choose to worship together, or for whom this is simply not a make-or-break issue. So much of the discussion seems to be driven by people for whom a schism may seem the best of some bad choices – or even a desirable option.
The second problem is that there seems to be work already happening within the General Synod Council to move towards the schism option – even before the General Synod itself has had a chance to consider or vote on these matters.
I say, “seems to be” because our Classis has requested documents and meeting minutes from the General Synod Council about their perceived actions, which theoretically should be available to us, but which have, so far, been withheld.
So we're left with our impressions from informal conversations and what we can tell of public actions taken by some churches. Already there is a shadow denomination forming, called the Alliance of Reformed Churches, which is comprised of a number of our most conservative congregations, and which seems to be ready to leave the RCA if General Synod 2021 doesn't go their way.
So far there's no similar counter-denominational effort from the liberal congregations, although we have seen many churches enter into dual-affiliation with other denominations, putting one foot out the door in case things really go south and the churches' properties or pastors' credentials come under threat
There's a lot we simply don't know yet. There's a lot of rumor. There's a lot of speculation. But there's a lot that we simply don't and won't know until October.
And I don't say these things to scare or frighten you; whatever happens it's not like the RCA is going to go away overnight, or that we'll have to find a new denominational home (although, from what my friends tell me, Classis dues in the UCC are something like $17/person, as opposed to $120 or whatever it is we pay, so it might not be the worst idea from a financial perspective).
But I do want us to be informed about what's happening, what discussions are taking place, and what the possible future could look like.
If I had to put money on it, my hunch is that there will be attempts at the 2021 General Synod to change RCA polity to enshrine one particular, rigid, understanding of sexuality. Those attempts will likely not get the supermajority of votes needed to do so. And a number of churches – several dozens, if not more, mostly in the west and midwest, will leave the RCA to form their own denomination over this.
So I do think a schism is more likely than not. But I wouldn't bet the farm on it; at this point nothing is written in stone.
That's the first issue.
The second is more personal. Because there are a lot of issues at stake here – issues of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, whether churches in one part of the country should have the ability to tell churches in another part what to do or how to conduct their business. Issues of polity, whether we want to be more congregational or more centralized and hierarchical in our denominational government. But the animating issue at stake here is human sexuality.
It's not an issue I preach on very often. Largely because I usually follow the lectionary and it's not an issue that Jesus talked about, and I try to keep my preaching in line with those things that Jesus did talk about.
But I think it's fair to say, and I don't think this should come as a surprise, that I do identify with a more liberal, progressive, however you want to call it understanding of sexuality.
And it's always been something of an abstract for me. I mean, I've always had gay and lesbian friends, so it's always been difficult for me to see them as the abominations they're described as in Leviticus. And it never made much sense to me why we're willing to throw out so much of Levitical law – the dietary restrictions, the rules against mixing fabrics in clothing, the rules against shaving and trimming beards – yet this was the one thing that wasn't in the Commandments, that Jesus never mentioned, that is supposed to make-or-break us as a church or as a Christian. That simply never connected for me.
But more recently, it's become even less abstract and much more a part of my life and my family's life.
And that's because of my daughter, Sonia.
Sonia, who now identifies as non-binary, who would cringe to hear me use that word, “daughter.”
Sonia, who has stopped using her given name, as it's too feminine-gendered, and has chosen to start going by the name, Koda, instead.
And it's a struggle for me.
Not because I think there's anything inherently wrong with who she – who they are – they've begun using they/them pronouns. But it's a tough adjustment for us to make. And I know my child. I know this isn't a phase or a fad or something they're doing because it's the cool new thing kids are doing. This is a genuine part of who they are.
A generation or two ago, they would have been the same person they are now. But there wouldn't have been a label for them – nobody, including themselves, would have thought to call them non-binary. They'd have just been another tomboy. We all knew those girls who hated the dresses, never wanted to play Pretty Pretty Princess, had no use for dolls or Barbies or any of the other things little girls are supposed to like. That's Koda. Just a little bit that-much-more-so.
I have no problem with who they are or what makes them comfortable in their own skin. But it's a struggle because I don't want them to leave Sonia behind. Whatever the future holds in store for them, wherever they find love, whoever they find a kind and compassionate community with – I'm 100% supportive of them.
But it would hurt if they cut Sonia out of themselves entirely. We gave them that name in the memory of the first Sonia Moore, my mother, who was one of the bravest and most selfless people I've ever known. She was the woman who dragged me to church, often kicking and screaming, when I was a kid, and made sure I grew to know God and love God's people.
She was the woman who always made time for all of her children, especially my older brother, Jamie, with Down's Syndrome. Who modeled for me what it was to be a parent to a special needs child; a model which has served me well as we navigate Simon's extra doctors, therapists, and school services.
She was the woman who taught me that dying sucks – sorry, I don't know another way to say it – that dying simply sucks, but that death is nothing to be afraid of. She fought cancer for 8 years before it finally took her, and every single day was a fight for her, but she never pitied herself or stopped showing us love. She made every day a blessing, no matter how sick she was or what pain she was in. And that's the Sonia we thought of when we named our first-born.
So as Koda keeps figuring out who they are, and what shape their life will take – and they're young, there are a thousand twists and turns that they can't possibly foresee yet – I hope that they keep that part of themselves that reminded us of the first Sonia.
And they are brave. They are selfless. They are generous and caring and compassionate. I'm not worried about that part.
My hope is that we, somehow, as a denomination, find a way to include people like my child, who want to be included. Who read those reads, that “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” and know that they are a part of that.
And that's not to say that I expect everyone to share my beliefs and my opinions on this. I don't expect, nor particularly want, every church to start flying rainbow flags from our steeples.
Because I believe that, important and divisive, and even as personal as this issue is, that God's church is bigger than any one issue. I do believe that a generation from now, we'll look back on this and think, “that's what they were fighting about?” In much the same way we look back on previous schisms and wonder how disagreements about the communion elements, or on membership in groups like the Freemasons, caused splits in the church.
Because when I think of the things that God requires of us to be in his church, the simple and exhaustive list is to love God, and love each other. That God wants us to be in relationship with him and with his people, through the good and the bad. And we can argue and bicker all day long about how to do that, and how we interpret that love, and we do. But when we cut ties, when we break fellowship, when we say, I can no longer be in covenant with you – I do believe that it's a breaking of the relationship that pains not only us, but God as well.
My purpose in all of this isn't to say that I'm right and if you disagree or have a more traditional view then you're wrong. But it is to say that this is my experience. And my family's experience. And it pains me to see our denomination on the verge of tearing itself apart – unnecessarily, in my opinion – over these things.
I realize I've been talking for a while. So I'll just wrap up by saying that I do not know what the future holds. I don't have any crystal ball, I can make no promises. What I know is that I love my family. I love God. And it is in God that I put my trust for me, for my own, for this church, and for all God's people. And at the end of the day I think that's all any of us can do.
Let us pray,
Holy God, we give you thanks that you call us to be in relationship with one another. That you place us in covenant with people who may not think exactly as we think, who may disagree with us, fiercely and loudly. Yet who we are blessed to worship you with. Lord, we pray for this denomination, for our little Reformed corner of your greater church, and for people and families affected by decisions that are out of our hands. Lord, we pray that you bless us with greater understandings of each other, and with gracious and compassionate spirits, that we may see your love, especially in the people we argue with. Lord, bless us in our struggles and help us to better understandings of you and each other. We pray this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
But to start, this week I thought I'd take a break from our sermon series to talk about a couple different things that might be of interest to the congregation. The first of those things is what's going on in the denomination, the directions we might be going in, and how our Classis is responding.
Depending on how closely you follow events in the RCA, you may or may not know that we seem to be heading towards some kind of reckoning. We have some very, very conservative churches, mostly in the midwest that want us to adopt certain theological positions. And some very, very liberal churches, mostly here in the east, that want us to adopt other theological positions. And the wedge issue that's driving a lot of the conversation is the same one that's split and schismed other denominations – human sexuality.
A few years ago, a group of conservative and liberal RCA pastors were called together to form what's called the Vision 2020 Task Force. Their job was to envision different scenarios about what the Reformed Church might look like if we maintained the status quo, if we split into two denominations, or if we stayed together as one denomination, but with different affinity groups and a different polity. The idea was to put these different people together, have them sort out what would be an acceptable way forward for the very conservative and very liberal, and put together some sort of recommendation to be voted on at the 2020 General Synod.
Of course, because of Covid, the 2020 General Synod never happened.
So, the assumption was, that all the work would simply be delayed until the 2021 General Synod, which will happen in Arizona this October.
But there are some problems.
First, the composition of the task force takes into account some of the very conservative and the very liberal. Without much thought or representation for the multitude of RCA churches who find themselves either in the middle, with congregations of people who may disagree on these issues but still choose to worship together, or for whom this is simply not a make-or-break issue. So much of the discussion seems to be driven by people for whom a schism may seem the best of some bad choices – or even a desirable option.
The second problem is that there seems to be work already happening within the General Synod Council to move towards the schism option – even before the General Synod itself has had a chance to consider or vote on these matters.
I say, “seems to be” because our Classis has requested documents and meeting minutes from the General Synod Council about their perceived actions, which theoretically should be available to us, but which have, so far, been withheld.
So we're left with our impressions from informal conversations and what we can tell of public actions taken by some churches. Already there is a shadow denomination forming, called the Alliance of Reformed Churches, which is comprised of a number of our most conservative congregations, and which seems to be ready to leave the RCA if General Synod 2021 doesn't go their way.
So far there's no similar counter-denominational effort from the liberal congregations, although we have seen many churches enter into dual-affiliation with other denominations, putting one foot out the door in case things really go south and the churches' properties or pastors' credentials come under threat
There's a lot we simply don't know yet. There's a lot of rumor. There's a lot of speculation. But there's a lot that we simply don't and won't know until October.
And I don't say these things to scare or frighten you; whatever happens it's not like the RCA is going to go away overnight, or that we'll have to find a new denominational home (although, from what my friends tell me, Classis dues in the UCC are something like $17/person, as opposed to $120 or whatever it is we pay, so it might not be the worst idea from a financial perspective).
But I do want us to be informed about what's happening, what discussions are taking place, and what the possible future could look like.
If I had to put money on it, my hunch is that there will be attempts at the 2021 General Synod to change RCA polity to enshrine one particular, rigid, understanding of sexuality. Those attempts will likely not get the supermajority of votes needed to do so. And a number of churches – several dozens, if not more, mostly in the west and midwest, will leave the RCA to form their own denomination over this.
So I do think a schism is more likely than not. But I wouldn't bet the farm on it; at this point nothing is written in stone.
That's the first issue.
The second is more personal. Because there are a lot of issues at stake here – issues of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, whether churches in one part of the country should have the ability to tell churches in another part what to do or how to conduct their business. Issues of polity, whether we want to be more congregational or more centralized and hierarchical in our denominational government. But the animating issue at stake here is human sexuality.
It's not an issue I preach on very often. Largely because I usually follow the lectionary and it's not an issue that Jesus talked about, and I try to keep my preaching in line with those things that Jesus did talk about.
But I think it's fair to say, and I don't think this should come as a surprise, that I do identify with a more liberal, progressive, however you want to call it understanding of sexuality.
And it's always been something of an abstract for me. I mean, I've always had gay and lesbian friends, so it's always been difficult for me to see them as the abominations they're described as in Leviticus. And it never made much sense to me why we're willing to throw out so much of Levitical law – the dietary restrictions, the rules against mixing fabrics in clothing, the rules against shaving and trimming beards – yet this was the one thing that wasn't in the Commandments, that Jesus never mentioned, that is supposed to make-or-break us as a church or as a Christian. That simply never connected for me.
But more recently, it's become even less abstract and much more a part of my life and my family's life.
And that's because of my daughter, Sonia.
Sonia, who now identifies as non-binary, who would cringe to hear me use that word, “daughter.”
Sonia, who has stopped using her given name, as it's too feminine-gendered, and has chosen to start going by the name, Koda, instead.
And it's a struggle for me.
Not because I think there's anything inherently wrong with who she – who they are – they've begun using they/them pronouns. But it's a tough adjustment for us to make. And I know my child. I know this isn't a phase or a fad or something they're doing because it's the cool new thing kids are doing. This is a genuine part of who they are.
A generation or two ago, they would have been the same person they are now. But there wouldn't have been a label for them – nobody, including themselves, would have thought to call them non-binary. They'd have just been another tomboy. We all knew those girls who hated the dresses, never wanted to play Pretty Pretty Princess, had no use for dolls or Barbies or any of the other things little girls are supposed to like. That's Koda. Just a little bit that-much-more-so.
I have no problem with who they are or what makes them comfortable in their own skin. But it's a struggle because I don't want them to leave Sonia behind. Whatever the future holds in store for them, wherever they find love, whoever they find a kind and compassionate community with – I'm 100% supportive of them.
But it would hurt if they cut Sonia out of themselves entirely. We gave them that name in the memory of the first Sonia Moore, my mother, who was one of the bravest and most selfless people I've ever known. She was the woman who dragged me to church, often kicking and screaming, when I was a kid, and made sure I grew to know God and love God's people.
She was the woman who always made time for all of her children, especially my older brother, Jamie, with Down's Syndrome. Who modeled for me what it was to be a parent to a special needs child; a model which has served me well as we navigate Simon's extra doctors, therapists, and school services.
She was the woman who taught me that dying sucks – sorry, I don't know another way to say it – that dying simply sucks, but that death is nothing to be afraid of. She fought cancer for 8 years before it finally took her, and every single day was a fight for her, but she never pitied herself or stopped showing us love. She made every day a blessing, no matter how sick she was or what pain she was in. And that's the Sonia we thought of when we named our first-born.
So as Koda keeps figuring out who they are, and what shape their life will take – and they're young, there are a thousand twists and turns that they can't possibly foresee yet – I hope that they keep that part of themselves that reminded us of the first Sonia.
And they are brave. They are selfless. They are generous and caring and compassionate. I'm not worried about that part.
My hope is that we, somehow, as a denomination, find a way to include people like my child, who want to be included. Who read those reads, that “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” and know that they are a part of that.
And that's not to say that I expect everyone to share my beliefs and my opinions on this. I don't expect, nor particularly want, every church to start flying rainbow flags from our steeples.
Because I believe that, important and divisive, and even as personal as this issue is, that God's church is bigger than any one issue. I do believe that a generation from now, we'll look back on this and think, “that's what they were fighting about?” In much the same way we look back on previous schisms and wonder how disagreements about the communion elements, or on membership in groups like the Freemasons, caused splits in the church.
Because when I think of the things that God requires of us to be in his church, the simple and exhaustive list is to love God, and love each other. That God wants us to be in relationship with him and with his people, through the good and the bad. And we can argue and bicker all day long about how to do that, and how we interpret that love, and we do. But when we cut ties, when we break fellowship, when we say, I can no longer be in covenant with you – I do believe that it's a breaking of the relationship that pains not only us, but God as well.
My purpose in all of this isn't to say that I'm right and if you disagree or have a more traditional view then you're wrong. But it is to say that this is my experience. And my family's experience. And it pains me to see our denomination on the verge of tearing itself apart – unnecessarily, in my opinion – over these things.
I realize I've been talking for a while. So I'll just wrap up by saying that I do not know what the future holds. I don't have any crystal ball, I can make no promises. What I know is that I love my family. I love God. And it is in God that I put my trust for me, for my own, for this church, and for all God's people. And at the end of the day I think that's all any of us can do.
Let us pray,
Holy God, we give you thanks that you call us to be in relationship with one another. That you place us in covenant with people who may not think exactly as we think, who may disagree with us, fiercely and loudly. Yet who we are blessed to worship you with. Lord, we pray for this denomination, for our little Reformed corner of your greater church, and for people and families affected by decisions that are out of our hands. Lord, we pray that you bless us with greater understandings of each other, and with gracious and compassionate spirits, that we may see your love, especially in the people we argue with. Lord, bless us in our struggles and help us to better understandings of you and each other. We pray this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.