Metropolitan Community Church = God's Church

I've been looking for sometime now

For you

Whoever you are

I've wandered beautiful temples

Chanted and meditated

I've recited scriptures

Sang worship hymns with feeling

I've read bizarre books

Learned about aliens and past lives

I've waited in silence

Prayed and pondered

I've met with radicals and ministers and holy people

Still

I couldn't find you.

Couldn't see you.

Couldn't feel you.

Where are you hiding?

 

Then

Like a comedian

with perfect timing

Just as I am giving up

Ready to throw in the towel

Stop this ridiculousness

Then

I find you

Practically mid curse

I find you

I find you...

In a room packed with homosexuals

Of course.

 

 

Of course. Of course I would "find God" in a room packed with not just homosexuals, but homeless people and disabled people and transgendered people and people of all different races and ethnicities and people of all different sizes and haircuts and clothing choices. Of course this is where I would find God - in a room full of God's people.

 

(Sarah takes a step up onto her soapbox. She taps the microphone. Testing to make sure it's on. What she's about to say is important to her. She wants to be heard.)

 

I get so tired of people trying to limit God. Box him in - God doesn't like gays. God hates Republicans. God prefers blondes. God can only be found in the Christian church. Shut up fools! God loves everyone. E-V-E-R-Y-O-N-E. Fucking deal with it. God is limitless. God loves smokers. God loves Muslims. God loves children and old people and rich people and poor people and black people and white people and fat people and skinny people and everywhere in between people. And though it may scare the crap out of you, God loves gay people - just the way they are. 

 

We, not God, like creating restrictions because it makes us, not God, feel good. We like to feel better than each other. We want God to like us best. We are all siblings fighting for God's favor. Love is hard to accept sometimes, because, well for me personally, I don't always feel worthy of it. I often think if I were prettier or thinner or kinder or less weird or made fewer mistakes in my life THEN, then I would be worthy of a person's love. But God is not limited by vanity or clouded by hatred. God has the ability to see something that we can't always see - our true beautiful selves. God created so many different, unique, unusual, wonderful people - why do we doubt God's ability to love them all?

 

Metropolitan Community Church in St. Louis ain't doubting God's ability to love all this children. Hell to the no. MCC is picking up where Jesus left off - welcoming all to God's table.

As I walked through the doors of MCC I found one of the greeters and asked for an information sheet. Christine introduced herself and immediately after learning of my first time visitor status whisked me around the church showing me the building and helping me meet new people. The building was alive with conversation and hugs and laughter and children running about. I was given information about the church and told how to get more. Christine offered to find me a friend to sit with, but I told her I would do alright on my own. I found my seat and took in my surroundings.

My first honest reaction was - Holy crap! There's a whole lotta gay in this place.  You can't always tell a book by it's cover, but when that book looks like woman with short poofy hair wearing straight legged acid washed jeans and a black blazer and is holding hands with a similarly dressed women then that book is probably gay. And it looked as though I landed smack dab in the middle of the GLBTQIA section of the bookstore. As I surveyed the room, I saw there was actually a wide variety of people - but still a strong gay presence.

Service started with contemporary worship songs. Everybody stood up. It was a slow start. A few people were clapping and even fewer people were singing. Then  music leader called out, "Come on everybody. Let's worship the Lord together!" Cheesy, but it worked. The singing and the clapping grew louder and louder until...everybody was worshiping the Lord together.

After songs and a brief prayer we stopped to say hello to our neighbors. A man in white jeans and a leather vest threw his arms around me and said "Good morning!" Other neighbors were a little less affectionate and offered handshakes and hellos.

Christine, the nice lady who greeted me, called all the children up for the children's sermon. Slowly, 15 darling little children approached the stairs with the littlest ones being guided by their parents. Oh, my dear blog readers, at the sight of this gathering of tiny people I burst into tears. (I am actually crying right now.) I'm not sure if I can fully explain my tears. I was moved by the love in the room. It's one thing to believe in something yourself, but it's another to involve your children. These children will be raised to believe God loves everyone and therefore loves them - gay, straight, transgender, homeless, disabled, black, white, whathaveyou. They will have grown up knowing these various types of people as their friends and church family. Seeing them all up there listening to Christine tell them a story about God's love overwhelmed me with love and hope for the future.
I just sat in my seat and cried.

This would not be the end of my crying...

MCC currently does not have a regular minister. They are in the process of finding one. In the meantime a woman named Amy has been providing sermons at the church. Usually the church has a person translating all the spoken words into sign language, but today that person was absent. Amy got up on stage and using sign language said  "My apologies. I am not very good at sign language. Thank you for your understanding." Yup. Started crying again. The thoughtfulness of these people moved me.

Amy's sermon was about.....spiritual journeys. (How fitting, eh?) She spoke not about trying to figure out where you've been and rehashing the past or even focusing on the future and where you want to go. Nope. Her sermon was about recognizing where you are in this very moment and accepting that God can meet you exactly where you are. You don't have to change for God to come to you. You don't have to make it to the end of the marathon before God will embrace you. God is with you the whole way, loving you, just as you are, and encouraging you to become the best you can be.

Tears started streaming down my face. I already knew this about God. That's not why I'm crying. I'm crying because so many people don't know this about God and have been taught just the opposite. They've been taught that God hates who they are and only if they change and repent can they be loved. Even churches with good intentions preach this message and it breaks my heart. They preach judgement. Judgement is not a life changing force, but love most certainly is.

I noticed on stage there were trays and gold cups. Oh no. Communion. Dammit. I was really enjoying this church. Please don't ruin it by saying something awful like "Sinners stay in your seats while we enjoy God's glory". Please. Please.

After the sermon a man in a delicious vintage mustard yellow "old man" cowl neck cardigan and 4 young children got on stage and stood behind the table where the Communion snacks were waiting. He explained the children were going to be assisting with Communion this Sunday, because all are priests of the Lord. There is no age requirement at the Lord's table. (Tears. Tears are streaming once again.) The man talked with the children about The Last Supper and why we uphold the tradition. He looked out to the congregation, smiled and said, "Wherever you are on your journey - you are welcome at this table. All are welcome at God's table. We want you here with us. We want to share this with you. Please, whatever you believe, join us." (Tissues and tears. Tissues and tears.)

The children helped guide the congregation row by row to come to the front and dip their cracker in the juice. Then cardigan man explained multiple areas where people were happily waiting to pray or talk with anyone who needed it. Communion at MCC was different than any I've ever experienced. This was not the organized silent process of my upbringing. Oh no, communion at MCC was messy and chaotic and loud and beautiful. People were talking and hugging eachother and SO many people were stopping to pray or offer a kind word. People were actually waiting in line to pray. Giant prayer circles started forming, taking up asile space. Everyone was up, roaming around, talking to their neighbor, getting their tiny rice circle dipped in juice and then enjoying hugs and kisses from their neighbors. After I got my cracker and juice I sat in my chair, watched the crowd and cried. There was so much love and life. It was so real and it took my breath away.

Once everyone settled down again, another man came on stage to make the offertory prayer. This big tall self-proclaimed "Illinois Farm Boy" with a hick accent and all got up and talked about how joining the church changed his life. He talked about how transformative the love he experienced there was for him. He marveled at all the children he saw there and how happy that made him. He basically summed up my thoughts and then he started crying. So, naturally I started bawling. He asked people to give what they could, knowing how much this place means to so many, but if they couldn't give money to contibute in some other way. I gave $5. It's the highest donation I give any church I visit.

At this point, I'm starting to do that cry thing where you make noise and can't breathe and I'm starting to panic because I don't want to make a scene but this church is just so beautiful and so full of love and I'm just so very very happy that I got to experience it that I cannot contain my tears.

Thank God, service is wrapping up. (Several balled up tissues are now sitting beside me and I look like the first time I saw Titanic.)

We sang a few more songs, prayed and were done, but no one was leaving. They were serving food and I was invited to stay around and meet more people, but I couldn't. I wanted to, but I knew what was about to happen. I walked as quickly as possible to my car - briefly saying goodbye to a few people before I left. I opened my car door, closed it, started the engine, drove off and cried and cried and cried.

It was a happy cry. I felt so full of love and joy and it came out through my tears. I thought about all the loves in my life and then I cried more. I thought about my beauitful friends Rachel and Russell who are getting ready to have their first child and I cried thinking about how much I already love that tiny human being and how he or she will grow up to know great great love.

If Jesus came back and started a church it would probably serve really great wine and it would probably look a lot like MCC. These people don't just talk the talk, they walk the walk. They greeted me. They welcomed me. They weren't afraid to show love to eachother, or to me, to a stranger. They are not afraid of differences, in fact, they embrace them and celebrate them. They preach love - not judgement and hate. These people are the closest I've ever seen to living out the message of Jesus Christ. This is their mission statement:

Our mission, as Metropolitan Community Church of Greater Saint Louis, is to accept, embody and declare God’s love for all.

Mission accomplished MCC. Well done. Keep the love coming!