The Church Of Teddy 10.18.09

Today I officially joined a church. This is the first time in my adult life that I’ve actually called a specific place of worship “my church.” More significantly, I officially joined the United Methodist Church, thus formally breaking ties with the Roman Catholic Church. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t considered myself a practicing Catholic in about 8 years. However, I felt it was time that I actually become a part of something again, which meant I had to “leave” my roots behind. Well sort of.

Nine years ago this past August, I began coming out to my friends and family. It wasn’t until I this point that I was even comfortable beginning to question whether my faith and sexuality could coexist. Actually, I wasn’t even sure that I wanted them to for a very long time. Growing up in the Catholic Church is something that was very normal for my family; something that always seemed unchangeable or at very least something I’d always have to tolerate. But as I began to gain confidence in my life, I realized that a relationship with God (though still present) was something that needed to be central to my life again. After I moved to Chicago, I started experimenting with different churches. All of these churches were, of course, open and affirming of LGBT individuals. This was crucial to my search as you might understand. For years, I was left discouraged at the possibility of finding a church to call my own. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stop going to Catholic mass, so I sought out a few Catholic churches that were in diverse and liberal areas of Chicago. My opinion changed dramatically last summer.

The Catholic Church, as well as the Mormon Church, funded the fight against marriage equality in California. The Knights of Columbus donated millions to write discrimination into the California Constitution. When Proposition 8 passed, I knew that it meant the end of my Catholicism (though already tattered and broken). Religious institutions funding politically divisive campaigns instead of feeding the hungry, to this day, makes absolutely no sense to me. I knew at this point what I was looking for.

In February of this year, I stumbled on a small little church in West Lincoln Park, Chicago called Holy Covenant United Methodist Church. I remember being terrified the day I went but also feeling extremely safe as the subject of the sermon that day was homosexuality. I stood outside waiting for my friend Jason and when it became apparent he was running late, I sacrificed my nerves for the heat. I was immediately welcomed by a nice couple who overwhelmed me with their questions and told me everything they could in two minutes about this church. I was frightened and terrified and awkwardly watching the door for Jason. He finally arrived and we were able to sit down near the back of the sanctuary. I can’t tell you a ton about the sermon but I can tell you this: in the first few minutes I knew I was home.

Over the next few months I continued to go to Holy Covenant and grew more confident in my choice to be a part of this community. I researched what it meant to be Methodist and realized that this denomination was more inline with how I saw the world. The call for social justice, network of reconciling ministries that reached out to the LGBT community and the expectation for using reasoning and experience when approaching the scripture were exactly what I was looking for. This was it. Today I took the final step and did something that I’ve never done as an adult. I joined a church.

The process also gave me peace with regards to my Catholic upbringing. While the Catholic church is no longer for me, I understand my families need to preserve those traditions. If they have reconciled their beliefs with the greater church, than more power to them. In the end, where you worship and how you worship don’t really matter. If organized religion or congregational worship isn’t your thing, that doesn’t mean faith and love are absent in your life. I know many people with a strong relationship with God who rarely go to church. In the end, I need to go. It makes me feel better, inspires me and helps me clear the fog from my head. It helps me become close to God and focus on the ways I can better walk with Christ while alive on this planet. I need it, plain and simple…and I found it.

It took years to get to this point, but it is well.