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The Foreword
To Continue the
Dialogue
Not so long ago a group
of conservatives in the Presbyterian Church USA
“invited” the liberals in their denomination to
leave. The conservatives were chagrined that these
liberals were advocating ordination of “practicing
gays” and performing same-sex covenantal unions. The
liberals, not surprisingly, were incensed. This is our
church too, they said, and we’re not leaving.
The pressing issue in
the Mennonite Church is different: acceptance into church
membership of non-celibate gays and lesbians. But the
group dynamics are increasingly becoming politicized, in
ways similar to what is happening among mainline
Protestants.
I winced when I first
saw a “Welcoming Letter” which appeared as an
ad in the Mennonite Weekly Review (February 17,
2000). Neither the content of the letter nor the
signatories were what bothered me. The arguments were
familiar to me, and I found it interesting to observe who
signed the letter (and who didn’t dare despite
agreement with its content), some of whom I consider
personal friends. Further, I knew the perspective
represented in the letter wasn’t very welcome in
official Mennonite discussions and publications. Thus
resorting to an ad no doubt emerged from frustration at
finding no better way to gain a hearing. But I also knew
every action elicits an equal and opposite reaction. My
wait was not in vain: though signed by a single critic,
the reaction came in the form of another paid
advertisement rebutting the welcoming letter.
I asked myself then, Is
this the way we do church? Do Mennonites deal with a hot,
contentious issue which seems to be ripping the church
apart by carrying out a paid advertising campaign in an
independent Mennonite newspaper? Although I didn’t
say it there, this question was the inspiration for an
article I wrote for The Mennonite, “A Third
Way between Fight and Flight” (May 2, 2000). Should
we not, as a people of peace, I asked then, find another
way for finding our way through this sticky wicket? And
because I think there should be a third way besides fight
and flight, I consented to write the foreword to this
book—though not because I agree with all
perspectives represented in thse pages. That would not a
dialogue make.
My interest in engaging
in such dialogue is this: I fear unless we take another
tack, Mennonites may be headed for the same terms of
engagement as mainline denominations. For instance, when
Gregory Dell, a United Methodist pastor in Chicago, was
tried by his conference for “marrying” a gay
couple, all three parties involved in the case hired
public relations experts: Dell’s church and
supporters, his opponents in the United Methodist Church,
and the church itself. Each PR person tried to win the
war of public opinion through the secular media,
especially in the Chicago area. Eventually, this case
became the subject matter for a Northwestern
University-sponsored symposium on how the media become
involved in and are used by contentious ecclesial
combatants.
Perhaps this is an
extreme example, but a lesson for Mennonites in any case.
If we avoid face-to-face conversation, debate, and
discernment and use instead the politics of
confrontation, than we, supposedly a historic peace
church, will have found no more redemptive a way forward
than denominations seemingly ready to engage in Holy War.
What this issue should
be about is discernment: trying to discern the will and
way of God on this matter at the threshold of the third
millennium of the Christian Era. I know, others will
disagree with this premise. For some, the issue is
standing up for an oppressed minority; for others, it is
standing up for the truth as they know it. (Is there any
other?) But if we can’t step back from our own
positions long enough to hear the perspectives of others,
then dialogue, if not discernment, is foiled. Then I see
no way around the fight-flight syndrome.
Further, here is how I
would frame the issue for discernment (others will
disagree here, too): the biblical norm for sexuality is
that a man and woman are commanded to leave their mother
and father and join in lifelong union with one another.
This was decreed before the Fall and was reaffirmed by
Jesus (Matt. 19:5; Gen. 2:24; cf. 1 Cor. 6:16 and Eph.
5:31), despite the fact that he relativized the Levitical
Holiness Code. The dilemma we are faced with is that, for
reasons we still don’t entirely understand, a small
portion of the population has a same-gender orientation
or affection. Such people are incapable of or find it
unbearably difficult to be attracted to persons of the
opposite sex; instead, they are drawn toward persons of
the same sex.
The ethical issue,
then, is not whether to change the norm. The Bible makes
clear, it seems to me, that this norm is to be
male-female attraction and marriage. The issue, rather,
is how we respond to these exceptional cases. Do we
demand that gays and lesbians try to change their
orientation? Do we expect that they remain celebate,
despite the fact that they, like most heterosexuals, burn
with sexual passion (to paraphrase the apostle Paul)? Or
would the Holy Spirit bless our making some exceptions
enabling persons with fundamental same-gender attraction
to enter monogamous, covenantal, lifelong, same-sex
unions? Practically speaking, these seem to be the
options facing us. And dividing us.
It is true that
Mennonites have had a history of people pealing off on
their own, of conservatives bolting because they think
the church is moving too fast or making compromising
changes; of liberals leaving because they think the
church is too bound to the past, thwarting liberating or
energizing changes; or of pietists of various stripes
moving on amid claims the church is not spiritual enough.
In many such cases, the schismatics are putting their own
convictions, ideas, and religious experiences—egos,
too—ahead of the unity of the body and this treasure
we call peoplehood. Whereas I am not comfortable with the
current struggle over the “H-issue,” as one
chapter in this book calls it, I am even more discontent
with the flight option.
What I plead for,
instead, is a commitment to the common struggle of
discovering God’s will for us. To do this, we need
at least the following: confession, empathy, humility,
patience, and prayer.
Confession:
Here’s mine: I am hopelessly and helplessly
heterosexual. Try as I might, I can’t imagine what
it must be like to experience same-gender attraction or
to be marginalized as a sexual minority. Further, I never
chose to be heterosexual, although I enjoy it
tremendously and can’t remember a time I didn’t
feel attracted to the opposite sex. In fact, some of my
earliest childhood memories involve feelings of
attraction toward women. My experience no doubt colors
how I approach same-sex orientation.
Empathy:
Whatever stance I take, it must be tempered with
awareness that the person whose sexuality I am discussing
might be—hypothetically speaking—one of my
children or a best friend. Would that make a difference?
More radically, what difference would it make if I were
the one whose sexuality is being openly and vigorously
debated?
Empathy, take two:
We ought to be as empathetic in our responses to those
with whom we disagree as toward persons experiencing
same-gender attraction. Aristotle, I believe, was the one
who said the mark of an educated person is to be able to
argue a position with which one disagrees. Perhaps that
is also a trait of a Spirit-filled Christian who longs to
lovingly search for the truth.
Humility:
It’s trite to say that none of us has the whole
truth. But still true. Moreover, I wonder how we will be
judged a generation or two from now. Given how different
many matters look different now than they once did, that
question should give us all pause. We should all try to
look back at ourselves from some historical perch about
fifty years hence. Will we judge who we are now as too
harsh? Too lax? If awareness of the potential for future
judgment doesn’t make us humble, what will?
Patience: We
need patience, not just with each other, but also with a
process which doesn’t seem to yield either quick or
easy solutions.1 Patience is a fruit of the
spirit; fractiousness is not.
Prayer: What
would happen to us if we devoted as much time to this
issue, personally and corporately, as we give to debate
over the issues? I wouldn’t expect bolts of
lightning to pierce the heavens on account of my prayers
or those of all of us. But the terms of our engagement
and the attitudes we bring to it might alter. I pray God
it might happen. Soon.
Experts in
“polarity management” point out that, whereas
problems can be solved and conflicts resolved, polarities
can only be managed. Perhaps this is an issue for which
there is no resolution. We can only work at managing the
polarities, by which I mean maintaining an emphasis on
both the love and holiness of God, both justice and
righteousness in the covenant community, both forgiving
and enabling grace. Unfortunately, not many of us are
capable, as individuals, of holding such polarities in
creative tension. That is why we need each other in the
church. And why we need to keep persons of varying
perspectives in dialogue with each other.2 May the dialogue continue.
—Richard A. Kauffman, Pastor, Toledo (Oh.)
Mennonite Church
Notes
1. Alasdair C.
MacIntyre’s comment about moral argument in general
is applicable to this issue: “The most striking
feature of contemporary moral utterance is that so much
of it is used to express disagreements; and the most
striking feature of the debates in which those
disagreements are expressed is their interminable
character. I do not mean by this just that such debates
go on and on and on—although they do—but also
that they apparently can find no terminus. There seems to
be no rational way of securing moral agreement.” After
Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory (Notre Dame:
University of Notre Dame Press, 1984), 6.
To Continue the Dialogue orders:
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