A Mom's Story: Why ONA is Really, Really Important

My beloved daughter, a baptized Christian, first came out to me as a lesbian when she was 12.

Beloved Daughter, Age 12

It was 2007, my first year as an ordained minister. I had accepted a call at my dream church. They mentioned to me that they had conversations many years prior about becoming Open & Affirming  (aka ONA = completely accepting of LGBT people among others), and agreed that it was too decisive, so they stopped talking about it. I understood. These conversations were hard, and we're nice and good people so why do we have to SAY it?

I remember our conversation like it was yesterday...“Mom, I think I have a crush on this girl, what do I do about it?”  My response - Um, well… are you sure? I mean, you’ve kind of chased boys ever since you were a tiny girl, this might just be a phase.”

I tried to be OK with what she was telling me, to hold my emotions in and be supportive. Because that’s what you do, you try to just love your kid. It’s God-Ordained.

There is a world of hurt out there, and your number one job is to protect your child from the hurt. And you can't be scared, or they might be scared. Loving them is the most important job you will ever be given. God is love, and love always wins, right?

New in ordained ministry, I went to a senior colleague and confided…what do I do? He gave me some sage advice but damned if I remember it. Afterwards I went to my car and cried my eyes out. I was scared for her. I wasn’t sure if her family would accept her. And I was a feeling a little sad that my perceived vision of her fairy-tale wedding would look nothing like the one I imagined for her.

Will the ugliness that I had seen in church circles scorch her? Truly, I wasn’t even sure if I would be made to choose between my child or my call. I'm ashamed by such an ugly thought.

Beloved Daughter, Age 23

Maybe she sensed the feelings that were swirling in my heart, because she went back in the closet. She stuffed her natural feelings and began dating boys, a long line, in rapid succession. Maybe she was trying to prove something to herself – or more likely, to me.

Surely if she WAS a lesbian, some at church would still love her. Some wouldn't. I took my hope from those who were personally Open & Affirming – even if my local church "officially" wasn’t.

The sweet lady with the uncle who tragically died too young from AIDS. The older woman who couldn’t be prouder of her gay son and his husband. The former submarine man who didn’t have time for anyone’s homophobic bullshit. These were my lighthouses in a storm.

When the Connecticut state law changed in 2010, I asked our deacons what I should do if someone calls me to perform a same-sex wedding. It was a valid question, and maybe as a still fairly new associate pastor a little pot-stirring was expected.

That question opened the Pandora’s box that had been closed so many years before (but not really) when the church held a round of informational sessions and decided to not vote over fears of a church split. I don't know if I ever received the full story on that period in our church's history, but it was before my time. 

The church took on a new round of study on ONA and we voted by paper ballot. The initiative passed with broad-ish support. We adopted a well-written and thoughtful statement, which was posted on our website. We were given very clear instructions that this was as far as we should go. 

The ONA Statement upset some, and those who needed to move on, did. Some who disagreed with the statement stayed, and have for the most part been respectful (although it hurts to hear rumblings about fear of become a 'rainbow flag' church - as if that's a bad thing). Some of those for whom our actions were not bold enough moved on too. 

In her sophomore year of college, at the tender age of 20, beloved daughter fell in love with a woman that tore her apart emotionally, financially and physically. She was her first. Unfortunately, the woman who was supposed to love her systematically abused her using classic techniques such as alienation and gas-lighting. My beloved daughter became too scared and unsure to “come out” to her parents due to what this woman had told her. 

Beloved Daughter & Me, Present Day

Because beloved daughter regarded me as a lukewarm LGBT advocate, she didn’t think my husband or I would truly approve of her “lifestyle”. Her abuser knew this, and used it to her advantage. At the height of the abuse beloved daughter did not speak to us for 6 months. 

I do not exaggerate when I say this period of disconnection almost killed me. More importantly, it almost killed my beloved daughter to walk away from her church and family.

The problem was, she couldn’t be 100% sure after 7 years of attending worship nearly every Sunday that we loved her for exactly who God called her to be. Would she really be safe with us? And Jesus wept.

Beloved daughter knew who she was as early as her first year of Junior PF. My husband and I didn't listen, out of fear. And we were so wrong.

Today, after a lot of work and prayer, beloved daughter is in her final year of grad school for social work. She is soon to be an intern at a domestic violence non-profit. We are so proud that she has grown in her own acceptance and wisdom and is channeling her negative experiences into helping others. She hasn't lost her faith. And we could not be prouder of her, she is amazing and healthy and strong and compassionate. Thank you, Jesus.

Please understand me when I say that for some of us, being crystal clear about naming how loving, open, accepting and welcoming we are as a community of faith is a life or death situation. Talking about it will not turn our kids gay, or make us the gay church in town. But it will make everyone who comes 100% certain that they will be safe here. Which is why yesterday I hung a rainbow flag in my office window. I hope that our community understands the urgency of our witness soon. Perhaps they will hang a flag where people can actually see it.

God is love, and love always wins, right?