Leaving a church is a hard thing to do. We leave a community of relationships and end a shared history. It’s even harder when we leave over matters of conscience.
Six years after performing my same-sex wedding, my dad was defrocked by the United Methodist Church. Testifying at the ecclesiastical trial was excruciating for me. Yet that experience – and the support our family received – also reignited my call to Christian ministry.
The nutritional makeup of these annual gatherings normally consists of 10 percent awkward side hugs, 20 percent irrelevant breakout sessions, 30 percent over-priced, low-value luncheons and 40 percent whitewashed worship services. However, at recent assemblies I’ve noticed a decrease of Baptist baloney and an increase of Baptist babies.