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kayreCommunion
That is Frank Schaefer celebrating communion this morning, and it is MY pic.
When I learned I could take today off, I started exploring what church to visit in Albany, and stumbled across the news that Frank would be preaching at First Methodist in Schenectady (not the UM church to which I've applied). I was tempted to go to hear him, but there were other reasons to go elsewhere so I was torn. Then the news about Frank broke, and then the other reasons evaporated, so hubby and I were there this morning. It was awesome!
First UMC is an enormous old downtown church. We went early in case there were mobs of people, but the sanctuary was only about half full-- which is to say, 150 to 200 or so. 30 or more people were wearing the short rainbow stoles that many lay allies have adopted in the UMC. As we waited for the service to begin, Frank and the local pastor were talking quietly at the front of the church; she was robed, he was wearing a suit and no stole. At the end of announcements, she picked up what I immediately realized was a folded clergy stole, and told the history of it-- rainbow-colored fabric from South America, given first to one person, passed on to a bishop, passed on to another pastor who was defrocked over homosexuality, and then to this pastor-- and then she helped Frank put it on, and the congregation applauded.
The prelude followed the announcements, so that it was a quiet time to prepare for worship. The call to worship and first two hymns were all focused on the idea that God welcomes ALL, period, no exceptions. Local pastor did the children's story, and then Frank preached. He began with today's reading from Acts, in which Peter three times has a vision of God telling him "what I have made clean, let no one pronounce unclean" and still doesn't get it until he meets the Gentiles who arrive next. Frank compared this to himself and many others, just not being able to understand that gay people aren't evil or sinful (more than anyone else, anyway) until they get close to a gay person, or someone they love comes out. He went on to share some of his own story, beginning with an anonymous phone call that let him know that his teenage son was gay and considering suicide.
This particular church generally does communion within a service only a few times per year, but when the news broke of Frank's "refrocking" (his word), they were immediately moved to let him celebrate communion today. It was powerful to watch and listen as he spoke the liturgy for the first time in more than six months, and the last time for him as a member of this conference (his transfer to California becomes official tomorrow); and even more powerful to receive the bread from him.
Throughout the service he positively radiated joy and hope and determination-- the last because he knows the battle is not over for the church, and probably not for him personally.
One final touch that I loved... as the congregation listens to the prelude, as preparation for worship, they also sit and listen to the postlude, as a time of preparation for returning to the world.
That is Frank Schaefer celebrating communion this morning, and it is MY pic.
When I learned I could take today off, I started exploring what church to visit in Albany, and stumbled across the news that Frank would be preaching at First Methodist in Schenectady (not the UM church to which I've applied). I was tempted to go to hear him, but there were other reasons to go elsewhere so I was torn. Then the news about Frank broke, and then the other reasons evaporated, so hubby and I were there this morning. It was awesome!
First UMC is an enormous old downtown church. We went early in case there were mobs of people, but the sanctuary was only about half full-- which is to say, 150 to 200 or so. 30 or more people were wearing the short rainbow stoles that many lay allies have adopted in the UMC. As we waited for the service to begin, Frank and the local pastor were talking quietly at the front of the church; she was robed, he was wearing a suit and no stole. At the end of announcements, she picked up what I immediately realized was a folded clergy stole, and told the history of it-- rainbow-colored fabric from South America, given first to one person, passed on to a bishop, passed on to another pastor who was defrocked over homosexuality, and then to this pastor-- and then she helped Frank put it on, and the congregation applauded.
The prelude followed the announcements, so that it was a quiet time to prepare for worship. The call to worship and first two hymns were all focused on the idea that God welcomes ALL, period, no exceptions. Local pastor did the children's story, and then Frank preached. He began with today's reading from Acts, in which Peter three times has a vision of God telling him "what I have made clean, let no one pronounce unclean" and still doesn't get it until he meets the Gentiles who arrive next. Frank compared this to himself and many others, just not being able to understand that gay people aren't evil or sinful (more than anyone else, anyway) until they get close to a gay person, or someone they love comes out. He went on to share some of his own story, beginning with an anonymous phone call that let him know that his teenage son was gay and considering suicide.
This particular church generally does communion within a service only a few times per year, but when the news broke of Frank's "refrocking" (his word), they were immediately moved to let him celebrate communion today. It was powerful to watch and listen as he spoke the liturgy for the first time in more than six months, and the last time for him as a member of this conference (his transfer to California becomes official tomorrow); and even more powerful to receive the bread from him.
Throughout the service he positively radiated joy and hope and determination-- the last because he knows the battle is not over for the church, and probably not for him personally.
One final touch that I loved... as the congregation listens to the prelude, as preparation for worship, they also sit and listen to the postlude, as a time of preparation for returning to the world.
