Community of Grace - Church at Margins

COMMUNITY OF GRACE:

AN EXPERIENCE IN CHURCH AT THE MARGINS

by Ben Roe

for

Historical And Contemporary Perspectives
On Justice And Peace Struggles:
Lesbian, Gay, And Bisexual Issues

Iliff School of Theology
Denver, Colorado
Spring Quarter, 1997

Introduction

From 1980 through 1987 in Lincoln, Nebraska, there was a house church called "Community of Grace, an Interdenominational Worshipping Community of Lesbians, Gays and Others Identified With Us." This paper introduces the Community as an experience of "Church at the Margins," to use Dan Spencer's term[1], and reflects on the theological significance of the community and its organizing style and way of worship.

As people with what we now describe as gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered have been oppressed and marginalized over the past several centuries, a separate and safe community became critical to survival, healing, and strengthening.

Overview of Community of Grace

Community of Grace (COG) was a small group of people, many of whom were involved in their own "mainline" congregation on Sunday mornings but who came together to worship Sunday evening to be with their community of people who identified with lesbians and gays. Charles Olsen described this kind of church as a "Para-Base Church," a "small group of persons who, because of a specific concern, are drawn out of two or more congregations and across denominational lines."[2] This group "provides a supportive climate for persons who have special concerns with which the local establishment may or may not be in sympathy."[3] Olsen's book was unknown to the organizers and members of COG at the time, but it describes something of the spirit of the community.

The community ranged in size from 5-40 over its lifespan, with occasional special events drawing over 40 people. There was a Coordinating Committee for most of the years; general community meetings and a steering committee gave direction at other times.

Community of Grace had a kind of loosely non-clerical (as opposed to anti-clerical) leadership style, in part because there were several clergy who were regular participants and leaders, and in part because of the belief that leadership was to be shared, based on a particular person's gifts, not their standing as clergy or lay. Yet, there was one Pentecost service where there were seven clergy, from Orthodox, Evangelical, and Methodist traditions, decked out in robes and special rainbow stoles to celebrate a common eucharistic celebration!

The worship style was highly variable and diverse by design: the traditions and personal preferences of participants varied from high Anglican and Orthodox to Methodist to Evangelical to contemplative traditions. A rotation of leaders, a mix of committed lay and clergy, was worked out so that the styles would balance out over a period of several weeks. By the leadership, one could know generally what style the service would be.

Inclusive language liturgy and hymns were a high priority. During most of the community's life, the songbook "Everflowing Streams" was used as the "hymnal;" other times, songsheets of individual inclusive-language songs and hymns was provided.

The decision-making process that was used throughout the life of the community was adapted from a modified consensus model developed by the National Lesbian Feminist Organization. The rationale pointed out the need for new ways of making decisions which were not hierarchical.

A covenant was developed early on in the life of the group, and then adapted for worship settings. The diverse theological and denominational backgrounds of the participants made this a very interesting and delicate process. One of the evangelical ministers wrote a first draft, and then a couple of small groups worked on sections and made a recommendation to the whole group. It was accepted with surprisingly little disagreement.

Besides worship, COG provided some stabilizing influence during Lincoln's controversial consideration of an equal rights initiative in the early 80s, as well as some leadership in the formation of the Coalition for Lesbian and Gay Civil Rights.

Who attended? There were clergy who identified as gay, lesbian, and bi, but who could not afford to be "out." There were laity who identified with lesbian and gay people but who themselves were either parents or were non-gay in orientation. There were lesbian, gay, and bi people who did not feel comfortable in any of the congregational options in the city at the time. And there were those who worshipped regularly in their "regular" congregations.

Church at the Margins: A Theology of Community

Dan Spencer's article "Church at the Margins" provides a succinct statement of the rationale for a community like Community of Grace, even though the article was written long after COG started. Those who have been marginalized by oppression, prejudice, and contempt, have a need for a place to go where they can be free, where they can heal, grieve, and grow strong. This was a part of the vision of COG: to provide such a place.

Spencer puts it well, referring to John Fortunato's ideas[4]

Many of us grew up in the church and experienced it as a place of nurture, healing, and redemption -- until we realized our gay identities. At that point we faced two primary choices: remain closeted and increasingly experience the world through a split existence, or come out and face hostility and expulsion from the church. Either path left us wounded and divided, with no community in which to integrate two fundamental parts of our identity, being gay and being Christian.[5]

This was very much the feeling of those who attended and were a part of Community of Grace. When Fortunato's book came out, one of the members excerpted portions and read them as his witness. It was profoundly moving (and still is to me).

Spencer names the need for "communities of wholeness, where we can affirm and are affirmed in our identity as gay and Christian." He calls for a sense of church "rooted in our liberating efforts to resist heterosexism and homophobia, and to celebrate our identity and uniqueness."[6] This happened frequently as the community laughed, cried, anguished, struggled, and celebrated. The Pentecost celebration mentioned above was one of the high points of the celebration. There were many others, though none quite so colorful.

Community of Grace was deeply aware of the oppression of the churches in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. This is in large part what led to the self-identification as a gay-identified group, claiming the "personal and communal history" and "reclaiming ... history from the distortions and mystifications of the dominant perspective." [7] Much of the life of the community was enriched by the conscious use of lesbian and gay imagery, language, and customs, while not diminishing images from the Christian tradition (except sexist and heterosexist ones!).

Spencer calls for a sensitivity to power dynamics,[8] and that is in large part why the decision-making process was a consensus one, and one developed by the lesbian community[9]. It was adapted (given a Christian framework and simplified somewhat) for use by COG. We were keenly aware of the damage done by misuse of ecclesiastical power to exclude, defrock, and condemn lesbian and gay people, and didn't want hierarchical and patriarchal patterns to do any more harm. This was an example of the "analysis of power relations to identify and root out heterosexist structures."[10]

Another reason for consensus decision-making was it maximized accountability. Spencer is right in emphasizing the accountability of the gay/lesbian church to its communities.[11] It also gave people tremendous experience in working through to compromise (yet it usually didn't feel like "compromise") from sometimes sharply differing perspectives and opinions. This experience helped to nurture and heal damaged souls back to strength, in my opinion.

In "embracing the exile" we did "discover the resources that come from life at the margins." We were clearly aware of the prophetic strand of Christianity that recognizes the power that comes through weakness, from life at the margins, without romanticizing the costs of powerlessness.

Of course, there was plenty of internalized homophobia floating around, and plenty of learned helplessness to deal with, and that sometimes was a temptation to "romanticize the costs of powerlessness."[12]

But more often, there was the often painful recognition of the truth of the damage, and the courage to experience resurrection through the healing. Spencer's notion of the ecclesia was clearly going on here:

The ecclesia of gay men and lesbians is an embodied community that works to repair the damage of theologies that are anti-body and anti-sexuality.[13]

There were always freely-given and received hugs during the passing of the peace. There was also recognition that hugs were more difficult for some than others, and just exactly why that was so. There were occasional discussions of events which led to the discomfort with touch, such as incest, rape, and other forms of childhood abuse. There was a tradition to be sensitive to these differences in comfort level. And there was healing over time, as some clearly turned around in their comfort with touch. There were discussions about the intimate connection between sexuality and spirituality, about the gift of embodied sexuality, along the lines of James Nelson.[14]

During the experience of the attempt to get sexual orientation added to Lincoln's City Charter and the backlash and vote gave plenty of opportunity for reflection on the "historical experience of resistance and struggle" and of the "spiritual and cultural resources located in contemporary lesbian and gay experience."[15]

Spencer is right, in the experience of those who attended Community of Grace:

Moments of separation into autonomous gay or lesbian space are critical for affirming and deepening our identities, and often free us for worship and thanksgiving that may not be possible in integrated environments.[16]

By the very nature of the Community, there were "moments of integration with nongay Christians" which led to deepening understanding of the issues of parents of lesbians and gays, of parenting as gay people, of understanding, forgiveness and reconciliation. We did not connect frequently, however, with "other communities of struggle," such as racism or militarism. At the same time, the mix of gay and lesbian people at that point in history helped to overcome the separatism that had built up between the genders.

There was not much engagement with the wider church, except through affirming and supportive clergy who came to visit and share their witness and the eucharistic celebration with us. There was indeed the stance of "confessional (this is how we experience God in our lives) and invitational (how do you experience God's presence?)."[17] This spoke a real word of witness to those who visited the community.

Justice and Peace Perspectives

The justice and peace connections are interesting: out of a strong, healthy Christian community that is comfortable with diversities of many kinds can come leadership which can lead other parts of the society and church to a more inclusive, just, and ultimately peaceful community. Out of this kind of community can come genuine dialog with the wider church, a dialog which is not based on a defensive or plaintive cry of "let us in" (as Spencer points out, we are in[18]), but which is prepared, confident yet humble, grounded and blessed. The interaction with these kinds of people can be life-changing for those who are open.

Personal and Professional Commitments and Conclusion

These kinds of communities have become less important, it seems to me, as the "welcoming church" movement continues to expand and grow stronger.

Nevertheless, the most valuable experiences which can be taken from this community are the sensitivity to language and power, the decision-making process, and the knowledge that it is possible to be fully accepted as a gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered Christian in community with other Christians. Once that has been one's experience, anything else is glaringly deficient.

That is why I will continue to work towards community-building in the GLBT communities where I find myself, helping others to find that experience of comfort, acceptance, challenge, and healing that happened for me and for many others in the Community of Grace. I will continue to participate in those arenas where my support is needed and welcomed.

In each of these groups, there is an openness to welcoming diversity, not just of sexual orientation, but of gifts, lifestyles, and race. In these kinds of settings I can be most productive. I will encourage non-hierarchical styles of leadership and power-sharing as well as inclusive and non-heterosexist language and mindsets.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Fortunato, John E. Embracing the Exile, Healing Journeys of Gay Christians. New York: Seabury Press, 1982.

Mokotoff, Eve, and Weiss, Lonnie. "Our Process, Ourselves; or, What's Wrong With Robert?" Issues in Cooperation & Power, Summer, 1980.

Nelson, James B. Embodiment: An Approach to Sexuality and Christian Theology. Minneapolis: Augsburg Press, 1979.

Olsen, Charles M. The Base Church; Creating Community Through Multiple Forms. Atlanta: Forum House, 1973.

Spencer, Dan, "Church at the Margins," Christianity and Crisis, vol. 52, no. 8 (May 25, 1992), 174-76; Reprinted in Nelson, James B. and Sandra P. Longfellow, Sexuality and the Sacred, Sources for Theological Reflection, Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994, 397-401.

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