Racial Injustice and Mental Health

guest post by Ray Littleford of Desert Palm UCC; this post originally appeared in the Desert Breeze

February 14 may be Valentine’s Day, and in the United Church of Christ, it is also designated as Racial Justice Sunday, and the theme across the denomination is Compassionate Community.  It is well established that experiencing racial discrimination often leads to mental health problems that detract from quality-of-life over the course of a year or even a lifetime.  Numerous studies have found that rates of anxiety, depression and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) are significantly higher among minority groups in the United States. 

Historically, Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and the first American physician to study mental disorders, declared that Negroes were not inferior to Whites.  In the 1850s, however, Dr. Samuel Cartwright defined “drapetomania” as the disease which causes slaves to run away, and “dysaethesia aethiopica” as the condition that causes laziness and made slaves insensitive to punishment.  A century later it was theorized that the urban violence among blacks in the 1960s was due to brain dysfunction.

There is also the problem of the over-diagnosis of schizophrenia among African-American males, nearly four times greater than that of white males.  The diagnosis was applied to many hostile and aggressive black men, and then they were treated with high doses of antipsychotic medications. 

Articles in prominent journals of mental health and psychiatry have explored the reluctance of African-Americans, Native Americans, Asian-Americans and Latinx individuals to seek mental health treatment.  Cultural paranoia and lack of trust in the medical community are often mentioned, as well as concerns regarding the cultural competence and understanding of clinicians.  Mental health professionals are predominantly white (e.g. only 2% of US psychologists are African-American) so these professions need to do a better job of attracting minority groups.

Finally, another area of discrimination is the lack of awareness by physicians of physiological differences of various racial groups in how medications are metabolized by the liver.  This can result in either toxic levels of medications or ineffective levels.  If you have tried several different psychiatric medications with poor results, then ask your physician to order genetic testing of the liver enzymes.  Most insurance plans will authorize it, and then the test results can point to the medications that are well metabolized by your liver, not too fast or too slow.

I believe we are making progress in reducing the stigma of mental illness in the general population.  It behooves us to extend this progress to people of all races and ethnicities so that biases in diagnosis and accessibility to treatment are eliminated.  As members of DPUCC, our witness to the community is that everyone is welcome here.  In the words of the Apostle Paul:

If our Message is obscure to anyone, it’s not because we’re holding back in any way.  No, it’s because these other people are looking or going the wrong way and refuse to give it serious attention.  All they have eyes for is the fashionable god of darkness.  They think he can give them what they want, and that they won’t have to bother believing a Truth they can’t see.  They’re stone-blind to the dayspring brightness of the Message that shines with Christ, who gives us the best picture of God we’ll ever get.  Remember, our Message is not about ourselves; we’re proclaiming Jesus Christ, the Master.  All we are is messengers, errand runners from Jesus for you.  It started when God said, “Light up the darkness!” and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful.  (2 Cor 4:3-6, The Message)

What Do We Mean When We Say ‘Justice’?

by Hailey Lyons

The greatest joy I have found in helping lead our UCC@ASU ministry is the moment an individual recognizes that we’re there to jump in alongside them, lift them up, and fight for justice. For far too long, Evangelical institutions have dominated the scene at ASU, creating a narrative that demands conformity to strict theology and causes lasting harm. When I was still a member of an Evangelical institution and doing campus ministry, a word that rang in our ears and filled our mouths with distaste was ‘justice’.

This seven-letter word has caused Evangelicalism and white, heteronormative communities around America, to reflexively cringe. This is because seeking justice inherently challenges their positions of power. This is because seeking justice inherently rebukes whiteness, heteronormativity, and strict gender roles. Even in the UCC, a denomination founded on seeking justice, we still find bastions of white supremacy, heteronormativity, and transphobia. We still have much to learn about actually doing the work of justice.

The UCC has largely become inoculated to the word ‘justice’. Sure, it goes on our slogans and marketing campaigns, but from there it fizzles out like soda going flat. It retains some of its taste as sugary juice, and one might still recognize it, but the carbonation is completely gone. The fire, the passion, the zeal to be transformative is gone. Instead, it is flat. Inert. The UCC has a long and storied history of seeking justice on the front lines of national debates, but this obscures the fact that too often local UCC churches distill the message of justice into only putting up a slogan in the building or on the website and separate from the transformation that justice requires. It’s not enough to just do a food drive in your church. It’s not enough to go to the border and help struggling migrants avoid dehydration and starvation. It’s not enough to label your church as Open and Affirming. These things are wonderful, but they are not enough.

The heart of the problem is churches choosing complacency rather than the true, transformative work of Christ. Instead of changing our polity, liturgy, and curriculums we uphold whiteness, heteronormativity, and transphobia. We inject ourselves into public discourse on a few areas to make ourselves feel better when we’re as colonizing as every other invasive non-profit that exists for its own gratification.

Our ministerial call in the UCC is to embrace transformative justice as a catalyst for change. “God is still speaking,” isn’t just a cute denominational phrase, it’s a rallying cry to the spark of change found in the margins. If we yield to the discomfort and withdraw from change because we can’t deal with our own complicity, we reject the idea that God is still speaking. We reject the embrace of justice and trade it for institutional security.

Justice is our call, our urgent need. Transformative justice that embodies the Christ in both the personal and the systemic, both the local church and the universal one. Jesus died, but the Christ lives on in the church. Radical rejection of oppressive systems and powers and total love tempered by communal striving toward mutual servanthood aren’t just attributes of the Christ, but the call of the church. Jesus’ ministry wasn’t a campaign as a synagogue leader or a pharisee to bring more Samaritans and Romans into the fold, but to evolve spiritual praxis into something totally different, radically new.

Justice is an analogous term to the Christ, one that the law cannot aspire to because the law is too often trapped by the oppressive systems and powers to truly strive communally toward mutual servanthood with total love. Too often the church is wrapped up in the opposite side, bogging itself down in what it means to love and communally strive toward mutual servanthood so that its rejection of oppressive systems and powers is watered down to the personal or too weak to make systemic change.

The UCC has an amazing opportunity to embody the Christ through seeking justice, but that means doing the work. We have the chance to do something totally different and radically new, but rather than getting caught up in visions of a restored UCC population: do the work. When we say justice let us truly mean the burning, urgent passion to embody the Christ in all its transformative power.

Sharing Our Stories

guest post by Andy Zawadski, First Congregational UCC, Albuquerque

It was a Sunday in April 1998. I was not looking for a church. I was quite content belonging to the second-largest Christian denomination in the world, former Roman Catholic (non-practicing) for almost 30 years. My wife Lisa and mother-in-law Marcia had started bringing our children Eva, then 7 and David, then 5 to First Congregational a few weeks before. Marcia had been an active member of this church in the early 1950s. In fact, my wife Lisa was baptized here in 1953.

I was sitting at the dining room table having breakfast and reading the newspaper as Lisa and kids stopped to say goodbye before heading off to church. Then, one of the kids, and I can’t remember who it was asked, “Hey, why doesn’t Dad have to go to church?” What’s that saying? Out of the mouth of babes…

And I thought, “O.K., I’m not going to be a hypocrite and make my kids do something I wouldn’t do myself.” So I came to church.

I was somewhat familiar with First Congregational as my kids had attended Preschool here. But I had only set foot as far as the classrooms and the parlor for parent-teacher meetings. Every time I entered the building I felt like I was stepping back into the 1950s. “Interesting,” I thought. “This place could use some sprucing up.”

As I entered the sanctuary for the first time, I immediately looked for hassocks or “kneelers”. There were none. Good sign. I had enough of that growing up in the Catholic church for 18 years. First Congregational had two services on Sundays in those days. One at 8:30 for the youth and one at 11:00. Reverend Frances Rath was in the pulpit that day. During the sermon, he proceeded to do a few magic tricks for the kids. “Interesting,” I thought. “Never saw that in the Catholic church.”

I don’t remember much else about the service but do remember being greeted warmly by Daisy Jewell and Meth Norris — and several others I can’t recall. “Interesting”, I thought. “Who are these people? Why are they being so nice to me?” (In hindsight, my first encounter with an extravagant welcome.)

Over the next few weeks, I learned that First Congregational had merged with other protestant denominations in 1957 to become the United Church of Christ. Never heard of it. So I did some more research on Congregationalist and the UCC.

I learned that 13 of the 56 signers of the constitution were Congregationalists. That within the UCC’s DNA were the first mainline church to take a stand against slavery (1700), the first to ordain an African American person (1785), the first to ordain a woman (1853), the first in foreign missions (1810), and the first to ordain openly [LGBTQ] persons (1985). I learned that this denomination values education for all people and it’s an important part of their tradition. Congregationalists founded Harvard and Yale, as well as several historically black colleges. “Interesting,” I thought. “This isn’t some fly by night denomination. These accomplishments are impressive and certainly things to be proud of.”

That first Sunday I attended church in 1998 was one of the last in Reverend Frances Rath’s 27 years with First Congregational Church. So, I asked who his replacement would be? I thought maybe the equivalent of a bishop further up in the UCC church hierarchy would send down a new pastor to the church. “Oh no,” someone told me, “the local congregation hires its own pastor — and fires them too if need be.” “Interesting,” I thought. “Never saw that in the Catholic Church.” 

I learned that the congregation would hire an interim minister to help with the transition to a new minister. The interim minister would stay about 18 months and couldn’t be hired as the permanent pastor no matter how much the congregation liked the person. It was to be a time of reflection and discernment. How did the congregation see itself right now? What were its strengths and weaknesses? What did it want to be in the future? 

I could see how much the congregation loved their pastor of 27 years and literally grieved his retirement. Some people decided to leave. Others dug in for the journey ahead. Observing this from the sidelines, I wasn’t quite sure the congregation would survive the transition. “An interesting exercise of one’s faith,” I thought. “I think I’ll stick around to see how the whole thing plays out.”

That was over 21 years ago. The whole thing is still playing out.

So, that’s the story of how I got here. And why do I stay?

  1. Well, I’m hopelessly addicted to mid-20th-century church buildings in need of constant repair and maintenance.
  2. I’m fascinated by the rich history of the Congregational Church, the United Church of Christ and the 139-year history of this local church – and proud to be associated with it.
  3. Although my personal theology may be different from others, I know it will be accepted here. In fact, it is celebrated.
  4. I stay because our church welcomes and accepts everyone into the life of the church.
  5. And I stay because of the sense of community and purpose I experience being here with all of you. It’s the place I come to give my spirit a workout.

I guess you can sum it my shared story about First Congregational United Church of Christ this way: “He came for the magic tricks. He stayed for the still speaking God.

Thanks for listening…

Global Ministries Partners Making Huge Impact for Migrant Communities

by Randy J. Mayer, The Good Shepherd UCC

In the last five or ten years, the world has stepped into a sweeping global immigration epidemic where one in every seven people are being pushed by war, violence, climate change, or poverty out of their home countries and pulled into countries that are often resisting their arrival. In many ways, it is an exodus of biblical proportion from the global south to the north. The UCC and Disciples adopted parallel resolutions at General Synod and General Assembly this summer on the state of Global Forced Migration, which can be found by clicking these links:

UCC link
Disciples link

The United States started to experience the impact of this exodus as early as 1993 even before the NAFTA free trade agreement was signed. For more than 25 years there has been a steady flow of migrants, refugees and asylum seekers traveling through the Sonoran Desert. In 2000 the Good Shepherd UCC in Sahuarita, Arizona had no choice but to get involved in the humanitarian movement. What else can a faith community do when desperate people are knocking at your door asking for water and help? What else can a faith community do when dead bodies are found in your neighborhood in alarming numbers? You start asking questions, developing programs to help the people knocking at your doors, you start going up the river to see why so many dead bodies are appearing in your neighborhood. Never would we have dreamed that 20 years later we would still have knocks on our doors and dead bodies in our neighborhoods.

Being on the front-lines of the immigration struggle along the US/Mexico border has created natural connections with our global partners around the world that are now finding themselves in the midst of the flow of immigration into their communities. Recently, my wife Norma and I were able to visit our denominational partners in Italy and Greece and observe first hand their faithful hospitality to the stranger.

Our relationship with the Waldensian Church in Italy began six years ago when we received a call from Global Ministries requesting that we host a group coming from Italy that was just beginning to get involved in the growing immigration situation in the Mediterranean Sea. We hosted them and began to make a powerful connection that the call to care for the stranger was the same in the Mediterranean Sea as the Sonoran Desert. Now, years later we have had multiple visits and exchanges. Gaining perspective from another part of the world has given us both a different angle to glimpse the struggle and gain valuable insight on how to do faithful ministry, as the global politics moves toward building walls and abandoning the principles of inclusion and welcome of the stranger. Today the Waldensian Church is a leading voice in Europe as they put their faith on the line to finance and work on the rescue boats named, “Sea Watch” and “Open Arms.” They are performing dramatic rescues of desperate people, abandoned by their smugglers in the Mediterranean Sea. They also have developed a project called, “humanitarian corridors” that is an agreement with their government that allows the church to legally and safely bring a set number of asylum seekers into Italy each year and resettle them in their communities. While we were attending the Waldensian Synod in Torre Pellice the Italian Prime Minister Giuseppe Conte in a speech to the Italian Lower House, called for concrete initiatives “such as the setting up of European humanitarian corridors” to enable the European Union to “leave behind emergency management” of the migration crisis. A powerful example of how people of faith can inject themselves into the political discourse and human tragedy to create healthy models that address the immigration struggle.

From Italy we traveled to Katerini, Greece to visit the Evangelical Church of Greece, an historic church with a long tradition of putting justice into action. We spent five days with them learning about their incredible immigration and refugee program called Perichoresis. It began in 2015 as a simple act of Christian hospitality as they responded to the arrival of thousands upon thousands of Middle Eastern refugees to camps near the border of Greece and the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia. They went to the camps to offer support and supplies, which led to welcoming the asylum seekers into their homes, which led to the development of large scale programs to receive and care for the asylum seekers. Today, Perichoresis has fifty staff members giving medical care, legal and psychological support, and housing managers that have created living facilities that are safe and stable. Perichoresis now rents 126 apartments to temporarily house 600 vulnerable asylum seekers escaping the horrors of war and exploitation. They have rented an additional 10 apartments to integrate and permanently settle families in their community. Their resettlement and integration program is so well established that the United Nations Human Rights Council Union has lifted up the work of Perichoresis as the premier resettlement program that should be implemented throughout Europe to successfully settle and integrate asylum seekers and migrants into Europe.

Small bands of believers making a huge difference and showing the rest of us how to be faithful and welcome the stranger. Small protestant churches sprinkled like leaven and salt, barely visible to the dominant church and culture in their countries, but they are doing big things in the eyes of God and the building of the Kin-dom on earth as it is in heaven. Thank God for our UCC and Disciples global partners, may they continue to inspire and lead us in the ways of faithful living.

United Church…of Christ

by Tyler Connoley

I’m sure you’ve had this happen. Someone asks what church you belong to, and you tell them you go to Such-and-So United Church of Christ. They respond, “Church of Christ. Is that the one that doesn’t have instruments?” Then you try to explain that the United Church of Christ is different. We’re progressive and inclusive. You begin telling them about the history of the UCC, how we we trace ourselves to the Congregationalists, and the Evangelical and Reform, etc. Their eyes glaze over, and they say, “Oh look, there’s Mary, I’ve been meaning to talk to her.”

Ron Buford taught me a trick that made it so this never happens to me anymore. He said to say, “United Church” then pause and say, “of Christ.” Ron has a passion for the UCC and our uniqueness, and he said this way of saying our name emphasizes that uniqueness. (It’s also because of Ron’s influence that our current UCC logo has those two phrases stacked in different fonts.)

As I’ve learned to say United Church . . . of Christ, it’s helped me to think more deeply about our identity in the UCC. We are a united church, and we are of Christ. Both of those things are important to our identity.

As a non-credal church, we value our theological diversity. We embrace gay Christians and Christians who think gay relationships are a sin. We allow for many different ideas about the divinity of Jesus. Even our identity as a Just Peace Church is rooted in our commitment to be a United Church. When General Synod was asked to declare the UCC a pacifist denomination in the 1970s, they commissioned a study. At the end of that study, the General Synod decided that our diversity required us to acknowledge multiple theologies around responses to war. We committed ourselves to working for Peace with Justice, and allowed individual members to decide what was right and wrong for them.

Some people have difficulty with our identity as a United Church. I had a seminary colleague who was troubled by being part of a denomination that ordained clergy to serve as military chaplains. This person ended up becoming Quaker, valuing theological purity on issues of war over the UCC’s diversity.

On the other end of the spectrum, we are also “of Christ.” We celebrate lots of different ways of being Christian, but we still unite in a desire to follow Jesus. Rather than emphasize a diversity of religions, as the Unitarian Universalists do, we have chosen to stand within one particular tradition.

One of my heroes, Huston Smith, is an expert in world religions, but continues to identify as a Christian. To those who like to dabble in lots of different faith traditions, he says, “If you want to find water, stand in one place and dig as deep as you can.” That’s what being UCC is for me. I certainly find wisdom in other religions, and value my interfaith partners. However, I’ve chosen to stand in one place and dig as deep as I can, rather than dig shallow holes in several different religions.

When people ask me what the United Church of Christ is, I don’t say we’re the most-progressive Christian denomination — even though we’ve certainly led the way, on issues from ordaining women to civil rights. Instead, I tell people we’re the most-inclusive Christian denomination. We are as inclusive as one can possibly be, while still holding onto the Christian tradition. We are the United Church . . . of Christ.

Are we Still the “Land of the Pilgrim’s Pride”?

by Ken McIntosh

I remember when I was a child and Thanksgiving was all about the Pilgrims. At school we watched “Mouse on the Mayflower” and grainy film reels with the Mayflower II sailing past Plymouth Rock. We made conical Pilgrim hats out of different colors of construction paper and big yellow paper buckles that went on our shoes. At home, Mom always made a ceremony of setting out a large wax sculpture Pilgrim couple—the centerpiece of our table.

Now it seems that Thanksgiving weekend is all about ‘Black Friday’ morning sales and college football. Pilgrims? The Mayflower? Meh…not so much (the exception this year being a pair of revisionist histories on TV).

On previous Thanksgivings I’ve thought that the eclipse of the Plymouth Plantation myth was probably good and merited. For Native people, it was another step toward the end of their relationship with the land. Already wracked by European disease, the treaty that Chief Massasoit made with the Pilgrims ended in the time of that chief’s son Philip; the ‘King Philip’s War’ resulted in over 5,000 deaths, and three-quarters of the slain were Natives.

A decade ago I had a strange experience while visiting Plymouth Plantation. Part of that historical recreation is a Native village staffed by Wampanoag tribespeople who dress in 17th century attire. A visitor to the village addressed one of the Native interpreters and said “You look like just like real Indians.” The man replied, with admirable lack of irritation in his voice “I am a member of the Wampanoag tribe, the original people of this land, who met with the European settlers.” And the tourist said, “Oh, I get it. You’re acting like a real Indian.” The Native interpreter continued to educate the man in a polite manner, but the whole exchange was painful to watch.

More recently, in Flagstaff, my wife was away for the Thanksgiving Holiday and I had to stay for a church function, so a Navajo friend invited me to his sister’s house for turkey dinner. I was the only white person at a large gathering of my host’s extended family, and thus the butt end of good-natured white-people jokes. The irony of it all was not lost on me.

So, considering the sad history of my ancestors’ conquest of this country, celebrating Pilgrim pride didn’t seem like such a brilliant idea. At the same time, it was hard to escape the influence of the Pilgrims once I became the pastor of a Congregational church. Of the 102 settlers who came from Holland on the Mayflower, 35 were members of the Puritan Separatist Church. They fled England where the State Church forbade their manner of worship for refuge in Holland where there was broad religious toleration. Fearing that they would lose their cultural ways, they then chose the risk-filled voyage to New England, a region chosen because they mistakenly believed it to be uninhabited.

Perhaps the most abiding aspect of Pilgrim heritage in the UCC today is part of Pastor John Robinson’s farewell message of 1620, in which he said “if God should reveal anything to you by any other instrument of his, be as ready to receive it as ever you were to receive any truth by my ministry; for I am very confident the Lord has more truth and light yet to break forth out of his holy word.” He clarified by lamenting that Lutherans proscribed their beliefs to the writings of Luther and Calvinists to the writings of Calvin. Today, the UCC is characterized by the phrase “God is still speaking.”

This year, however, I’ve decide that I do want to re-appropriate the Pilgrim story. It has abiding value—or at least value for 2015 and the foreseeable future. I say this for two reasons. First, the story of the Pilgrims and First Nations people of that land cooperating for their mutual benefit is a true one—albeit short-lived. The Wampanoags showed Europeans how to grow crops and survive; Europeans in turn brought crops and technology that was helpful for the Natives.

That peace was short-lived. I think of it like the 1914 Christmas truce in the trenches of WWI. We know that was followed by the hells of Verdun and poison gas attacks, but at least for a brief time it happened and we can still be inspired by that glimmer of peace. Likewise, we have the example of the daring risk that this Native community took by welcoming strange and dubious-seeming people, and trying to seek a future of mutual benefit. At a time when America seems to be growing more xenophobic, this beginning attempt at mutual trust may still serve as a positive example. Their betrayal by our race can also be an abiding cautionary lesson.

But there’s another ‘Pilgrim lesson’ that I had drummed in during grade school, and I think that is the most important lesson of the Mayflower journey for America today. Countless schoolchildren were taught during the 1960s, ‘The Pilgrims came to these shores seeking religious freedom, and that is why we continue to value everyone’s religious freedom.’ That story can be historically critiqued—it may be that the Mayflower Separatists only valued Christian religious freedom, and we know that the Puritan groups who came in succeeding waves were intolerant of religious dissenters in their own ranks. Yet the elementary school lesson was as clear as it was succinct: our ancestors came here because they wanted to worship freely, and we should pass that privilege on to others.

So when, a few years later, I saw a group of men installing our neighbors’ swimming pool, and they all stopped their work at the same time and bowed down on mats and prayed, I was not shy to approach them afterward and ask “Why did you do that?” And when they told me they were Muslims and they prayed toward Mecca five times a day, I said “Neat!” Up to that point my experience of religious diversity was Methodists, Lutherans, Unitarians…and one Jew. But I was happy to see a new kind of religion in my town…part of an unfolding story of religious freedom that defined us as Americans.

I have to wonder; all these people wanting to refuse new neighbors because they came from another culture and they might follow a different religion: were they not told the story of the Pilgrims? If they were told the same American legend that I received, they somehow missed the whole point.

“Land of the pilgrims’ pride,
From ev’ry mountainside
Let freedom ring!”
…for everyone who wants to live in safety, and to worship as they please. Let it ring!

Photo is with permission of my publisher Anamchara Books

Why We Need to Say It

by Tyler Connoley

Shortly after Pope Francis visited the United States, the news-o-sphere exploded when lawyers for Kim Davis, the county clerk who gained national attention for her opposition to same-gender marriage, announced the Pope had met secretly with Davis and commended her for her courage. Initially, the Vatican refused to comment on the meeting, and in subsequent days they made statements saying Davis was part of a larger group and did not receive a private audience.

We may never know what really happened that day, because there appear to have been no cameras, sound recordings, or videos, and its now a matter of “he said, she said.” However, for millions of LGBT people in the world, the meeting confirmed they already believed — all Christians, be they conservative protestants or environmentalist Catholics, are anti-gay. Christians, so the common wisdom goes, can disagree on many things, but they will always come together on their hatred of LGBT people.

Now, I can hear you spluttering already: I’m not anti-gay! My church is welcoming of everyone! I belong to the UCC, because I love how affirming they are of LGBT people!

I’m sure that’s true. What I’m highlighting is how Pope Francis and Kim Davis helped fuel the common misperception that all Christians are anti-gay — even you.

And that’s why we have to say it. It’s not enough to say, “We welcome everyone,” because LGBT people will assume that doesn’t mean them. We’ve been burned too many times by people who appeared liberal on issues like homelessness and the environment, but remain firmly opposed to same-gender relationships. We’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, and when we hear that the Pope met with Kim Davis, we think, “Of course. That makes sense to me.”

So, does your church celebrate everyone? And when you say that, do you mean people in gay relationships and people whose gender is queer? If so, then you better say it directly, because their are a lot of LGBT people who assume you don’t mean them when you say, “all are welcome.”

If You Build It, They May Not Come

by Davin “Dax” Franklin-Hicks

Field of Dreams came out when I was 11 years old. I saw it on video when I was 13 and immediately used the line “If you build it, they will come” for comedy effect with my friends. It was a catchphrase and said at the right moment, it always got a good laugh. Because of the incessant use, it became hard wired in my brain. Sometimes I hear folks talking about a project or an effort they are involved in and that line runs through the back of my mind.

My access to places of worship and faith development post coming out as LGBT was very limited. I had been to a few congregations that expressed a welcome to LGBTQ folks. These churches, though, were largely made up of members who identify as LGBT and very few allies. This was disheartening to me. I wanted to be able to pick a faith community that I could grow spiritually in and not just choose one because they embrace my community. This is further proof to me that the most segregated hour in America is still on Sundays. And I had no desire to participate in that. Then I heard about the UCC and everything changed.

I became introduced to the UCC through the Pastor who served at First Congregational United Church of Christ in Tucson, AZ. She was an out, partnered lesbian, yet her ministry consisted of people from all walks of life; likely people that would never have sought each other out in the world outside the church. Members affirmed and celebrated each other. They advocated openly and unabashedly to ensure those who did not have access to rights would gain access to rights. They just were all so kind and open. It appeared to be church in action. So, I was suspicious. What’s the catch? Why are you guys being so nice to us? And the answer that came consistently was that we were part of them and they were a part of us.

The reason all these things happened is they made an intentional decision to become Open and Affirming, welcoming LGBTQ into the full life and ministry of the church. And I dug it. I shook off the suspicion and embraced the openness. It was delightful and rich. And still, many LGBTQ people would never come through those doors, simply because it’s far too painful. A friend of mine told me the story about her congregation’s decision to become Open and Affirming. They thought it was simply the right thing to do. And it created an expectation for some that the LGBTQ community would pour in. One person said, “I don’t get it. We say we are Open and Affirming. Why aren’t they coming?”

There are a whole host of reasons LGBT folks do not participate in organized religion. Some have experienced churches to express a welcome, only to be condemned when they do attend. The trauma of losing their faith community due to being LGBT is often triggered by churches. In short, many don’t trust us. And that makes perfect sense.

Addressing the trauma that results from faith based rejection is the role of the church. Healing, ministering, listening, affirming. It takes intention and it takes openness to achieve. The church is inviting those who have been wounded from ministers and church members to come to our churches. It is our responsibility to prepare a place for them that will truly heal.

If you build it, they may not come, but we, as the church, must build it still.

Davin “Dax” Franklin-Hicks is a proud member of the United Church of Christ. He was introduced to the UCC in 2003. His primary focus is in supporting those that have experienced trauma within spiritually based communities and/or rejection from family members due to being determined as unacceptable to God for various reasons. Dax had his own church-related trauma experiences after coming out as Queer, and later, as Transgender that included a disfellowship process from a rejecting congregation. What a breath of fresh air the UCC was after that experience.

In 2008, Dax transitioned from female to male, experiencing an incredible affirmation from his UCC congregation at the time, the former First Congregational United Church of Christ in Tucson. The grace and love he received during this coming out and transition process was a very healing experience.

Dax works in the field of recovery in Tucson, is a member of Rincon Congregational United Church of Christ, and currently serves on the Executive Board of the Southwest Conference. He has an amazing wife, Nancy, who is a member of Rincon and a Social Worker in hospice. They have a rockin’ awesome son, named Angelo, who is in his twenties and works in the helping field. He has a cat who shares his point of view nearly constantly, and a pit bull he kisses daily.

How to Welcome New People…Wisely

by Ryan Gear

I am currently reading John Dorhauer’s new book Beyond Resistance: The Institutional Church Meets the Postmodern World. In it, Rev. Dorhauer presents an exciting challenge to let go of some restrictive institutional structures and allow a “Church 2.0” to emerge and engage our postmodern world.

I find it incredibly refreshing that the new General Minister and President of the United Church of Christ is urging the use of new metrics in place of the old metrics of attendance and offering to measure church “success.” Instead of counting success in terms of heads and dollars, he advocates for the blossoming of new, adaptive expressions of faith that count people served. How blessed the UCC is to have a leader who understands the true mission of the church!

As congregations adopt this view of the church’s mission, lives will be changed, as John likes to say, “by the transforming power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.” As hope is renewed, healing is found, and communities are served, people touched by the church’s mission will take notice… and something else will happen.

Ironically, as the church shifts its focus from heads and dollars to service and mission, the church attendance will likely increase. Please hear me, I don’t want to sound presumptuous, and serving is certainly not a means to an end. When churches serve their communities and allow new expressions of worship, however, new people will likely want to worship there. Love is attractive.

Although many congregations currently feel as though they’re struggling, if these churches re-imagine their mission and serve their communities, they will likely welcome many new people. Moreover, as our society continues to progress and evangelicals continue to double down on backward social stances, I believe that the United Church of Christ and other mainline denominations will attract a new wave of people looking for a mission-focused, thinking, and open-minded church.

Some of these folks will bring new ideas that will help you to reimagine church– creative worship, new music, poetry, video, and dialogical sermons, worship experiences that don’t fit the usual mold. Some will bring new life to church governance and budgeting with the newest leadership practices. Some will start new ministries and lead others to serve their communities in creative and inspiring ways.

In fact, I believe that one of the greatest challenges mainline denominations will face in the twenty-first century is how to welcome new people wisely. What do I mean by that?

Some congregations are not good at welcoming people at all. They almost make it difficult for a new family or unmarried person to join the church. They use insider language that newcomers don’t understand. They crush new ideas. They underfund ministry to children and students. They focus on pleasing the biggest givers rather than welcoming new blood. They cling to structures that no longer make sense. You get the idea.

The church I planted, One Church, is only two and a half years old, but we grew to 165 in worship after only 14 months. We focused on serving the disadvantaged in our community and on communicating what makes our church unique in our area. For example, we are one of the few churches in our community who welcome and affirm the LGBTQ community.

One Church also worships in a style to which a fair number of postmodern people can relate. We offer contemporary worship with lyrics on video screens. We present sermon series that address the questions thinking people have about faith. We used an up-to-date professional website, search engine optimization, Google Adwords, and Facebook advertising to promote the church and those sermons. We allow smart, capable people to create new ways of serving. At two years old, One Church would be considered a success by the old metrics and hopefully the new, as well.

Then after a year of growth, One Church paid dearly for a mistake. I placed someone into a leadership position without properly vetting him. Within a few months, I discovered that he secretly struggled with mental illness when it manifested itself in a church conflict. Acting in the only way he knew how, he created an incredible amount of hurt and distrust in the congregation. Putting someone not properly vetted into church leadership cost One Church both emotionally and numerically.

In contrast to churches who don’t really welcome new people, some congregations are so desperate for new leadership that they will place any new person into an influential position within weeks of arriving. Yes, you want to welcome new people, but you want to welcome them wisely.

As you welcome new people, you will also find that there are people who change churches frequently for various reasons that are less-than-healthy. As new people arrive in your church, you are bound to meet some of them in their continuing journey. They are often called “Church Hoppers.”

You can and should welcome each and every one of God’s children with open arms, but not everyone is ready for a position of influence in your church. While the mission of the church is to offer healing, the church you lead needs emotionally healthy, stable people in its core leadership. Again, God loves everyone, and every church should welcome hurting people. Not everyone, however, is emotionally healthy enough to have influence in a church.

Here are three ways to welcome new people well:

1. As John Dorhauer urges, “Reimagine” church.

New persons to your church will often bring new ideas about worship, be skeptical of hierarchy, and view faith as an ongoing conversation. Be open to their input, and be willing to adapt to new ways of being the church. The Center for Progressive Renewal (progressiverenewal.org) is a great resource.

2. Make church guest-friendly.

Eliminate insider language that new people will not understand. Install signage helpful to first-time guests. Use twenty-first century methods of communication like social media, video, and image-based communication that Americans are now accustomed to.

3. Enrich the lives of people with felt-need sermon and ministries.

Make it your goal to create the best progressive children’s and students’ ministry in your area. Preach sermons that speak to the felt-needs we all share, as well as answer questions thinking people ask. Then, allow room for dialogue, as intelligent people appreciate the space to process verbally and share their own experiences.

Here are three ways to welcome new people wisely:

1. Resist the temptation to give authority to everyone who flatters you.

It can be tempting to automatically trust someone who tells you how great your sermons are, always encourages you, and praises your pastoral prowess… but as good as it feels to believe the hype, behind flattery may lie a hidden agenda. Be discerning.

2. Vet people before entrusting them with influence.

Develop a policy that people new to the church wait for at least a year before putting them in any positions of leadership. Watch for signs of emotional distress. In addition, if the person was offended by a former pastor, why not contact the former pastor and get his or her side of the story? It might be quite revealing. Observe the way they interact with others, and do not ignore red flags.

3. There is strength in numbers.

Limit the amount of time you spend with people who have repeatedly left other churches, and when you meet with them, make sure other trusted members of the church are with you to prevent any he-said/she-said.

As congregations reimagine church and open themselves to Church 2.0, new people will come. In faith, you can prepare for them now. As you adopt new metrics of people served, and create new expressions of worship, your church will have the opportunity to welcome people well… and welcome them wisely.

Author Bio

Ryan Gear is the founding pastor of One Church, a progressive non-denominational church in Chandler, Arizona (onechurch.com) and the founder of openmindedchurch.org, a growing, national directory of churches willing to wrestle with questions and doubts.

He is a regular contributor to Huffington Post, OnFaith, Beliefnet, and Convergent Books and has been featured in Real Clear Religion.

Ryan also serves as an initiator in Convergence U.S., a movement bringing together forward-thinking Catholics, Evangelicals, and mainline Protestants, along with ethnic and peace churches and other willing colleagues.

Follow Ryan on Twitter at twitter.com/ryangear77.