Pink Menno

MCC, be guided by your core: an open letter from Luke Miller

2018-05-24T23:54:28Z

Dear Ann and Ron,

MCC has a history of drawing people from diverse Christian backgrounds together to do good work in the world. There are three requirements for MCC workers: commitment to Christian faith, active participation in a Christian church, and commitment to peace & nonviolence. Sensitivity to the local context of service work is an additional factor that MCC wraps into discussions of moral life. The firing of Wendi Moore-O’Neal, the petition for inclusion of LGBTQ people, and the updated policy guidelines document have highlighted the challenge of trying to work as one body amid strongly differing understandings of LGBTQ people. I believe MCC could serve as a model of wisdom if it acted out of its fundamental identity and the strength of its tradition by building on its three core faith requirements.

Let’s speak of alcohol as an example of how these faith criteria can be applied. Workers come to MCC with personal faith commitments from home church communities with different beliefs and teachings about alcohol. Abuse of alcohol (addiction, overuse) is violent toward one’s body and can lead to violence against others. In some cultures where MCC workers serve, alcohol use would hurt the witness of MCC, whereas in other cultures, activities such as sharing a glass of wine with dinner are an important part of hospitality and social connection. I see in MCC’s documents and policies space for wisdom that contains all of these complexities, and allows for a living morality that takes into account a worker’s personal faith, accountability to home church communities, nonviolence, and sensitivity to witness in different cultural contexts. This wisdom guides MCC in a way that a policy that imposes an absolute binary ruling on the morality of alcohol would fail to capture.

Sexuality, which encompasses sexual relationships, actions, and expressions, is a core area of life for all people, and is interwoven with the faith and morality of individuals and communities. The diversity of faith traditions that come together through MCC have a variety of teachings and beliefs about sexual morality. Some workers come from churches where the only acceptable place for sex is in a heterosexual marriage, whereas others come from churches where same-sex relationships are blessed and welcomed. Sexuality of single people is understood differently in various traditions. There are many nuanced understandings and practices of dating, relationship, gender expression, and gender roles. The local contexts of service in different cultures carry a vast variety of implications for expressions of sexuality, relationships, and gender (such as acceptable codes of dress, position of people of different genders in society, social norms for interactions among genders.) MCC’s current policy on sexuality does not reflect any of this complexity, and has resulted in erratically policing the sexuality of its workers and volunteers, primarily when an outside party complains about the existence of a visible LGBTQ person. For MCC to stay true to its core commitments, it will need to take the courageous step of writing a new policy on sexuality that embraces the best of its tradition.

What might it look like to work from the wisdom of this tradition? The policy guidelines should reflect a commitment to the three central faith requirements. Rather than being the arbiter of faithful sexuality, MCC can require all workers to live a sexuality that is consistent with their personal faith commitment and accountable to their home church communities. Sexual violence (harassment, coercion) would be recognized and called to account. For service in a different culture, workers’ sexuality, relationships, and genders would be considered in the same way that all aspects of a worker’s life would be considered in determining if a particular position is a good fit, and local partners would be sought that match the gifts of talented individuals looking for a field of service. Accountability to faithful sexuality would include the worker’s home church community; for example, if someone believes that a lesbian worker is not living a faithful Christian sexuality, that person might be invited into a discussion with the worker’s pastor and church community, rather than putting MCC in the position of adjudicating differences of belief among all of its constituents. The fruit of such an approach would likely include a more fully committed cadre of workers and volunteers, a greater sensitivity to the needs of populations being served (which certainly contain many LGBTQ people), and an inspiring model of how Christians from diverse faith backgrounds can work together to do God’s work in the world, which has always been a legacy of MCC. Women have been leaders in MCC for decades despite this being in tension with the teachings of constituent denominations and partner organizations; if such a policy as I’m suggesting is implemented, the same could be true for LGBTQ people.

To do so, MCC would need to correct the path that it has currently taken, which is to treat LGBTQ people as agents of a contamination that must be contained. If it continues on its current path, it will increasingly alienate Anabaptists who consider acceptance and justice for LGBTQ people as a key component of nonviolence. Discipline and firing of workers for violations of sexual policies will continue to be applied haphazardly and hypocritically, with the LGBTQ people who are most visible and vulnerable bearing almost the entire burden. If married heterosexuality continues to be the standard for sexual morality, sexual coercion and violence will continue to be easily hidden behind a veneer of “acceptable” sexuality. An absolute binary law of externally-judged sexual acceptability is neither wise nor Christian; it is too brittle to serve a living institution, and I fear that the more MCC lashes itself to such a law, the greater the chance that it might break.

Sincerely,

Luke Miller

A leader of Pink Menno

Board member of Brethren/Mennonite Council for LGBT Interests

Open Letter to Ann Graber Hershberger and J. Ron Byler on Policy 152 of MCC

2018-04-26T10:34:30Z

To Ann Graber Hershberger and J. Ron Byler,

I am writing to express my discontent with Policy #152 that requires sexual celibacy for Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) personnel outside of heterosexual marriage. On March 16-17th, your organization affirmed this statute for all those in leadership positions, workers with significant interactions with MCC’s constituency and service workers on international assignments. You went on to state that some exceptions will be made, though it is incredibly vague around what and who those exceptions will be.

I have been following this story, but felt somewhat disconnected to any feelings around it. So much so that my partner commented to me, “You don’t even seem upset about this. Your friends are more upset than you are.” I told her that at this point, I am just used to it. However, this morning I felt something again when I read the letter written to you by Wendi Moore-O’Neal. MCC fired O’Neal, by email, in 2014, after “becoming aware of actions that violate MCC’s requirement of sexual celibacy for personnel outside of heterosexual marriage.”

This caused me to feel something on behalf of Wendi, who identifies as a “Black, butch, dyke.” These are desperately missing identities in all places of work, particularly Mennonite institutions. Because of this, we/you miss out on people who are able to see things that you/I do not see, from our/your positions of privilege and majority. In an organization that does cross cultural outreach, this is just negligent.

My fear is that the revisions to the current policy, allowing exceptions will especially disenfranchise those who have less social capital and access, such as those with less recognizable last names. I do not see how bias will not play a role and those who are more connected, such as myself, will not benefit slightly or significantly more, than those who are not.

But, as I sit here feeling my anger on behalf of Wendi, I also become aware of my own feelings. Indeed the numbness that I initially felt is an ongoing symptom of trauma. I recently said to my therapist, “Sometimes I feel like my symptoms fit those of a sexual abuse survivor.” To my surprise, she said, “Well, your church sexually abused you.” I do not wish to equate my experience with survivors who have been physically violated, but I immediately understood what my therapist meant.

The ongoing messages about the unholiness of my sexuality, from Church institutions took and continues to take a toll on my psyche. These tolls include shame, anxiety and bodily triggers to touch. As a child, I would perform mental rituals to quell the anxiety about my sexuality. In adulthood, this has erupted into full blown OCD during stressful times, requiring medication and therapy.

Despite this, many parts of me are thriving. I have talents for writing, music and spiritual/theological discourse that I love sharing. This summer, I decided to share one of these gifts with your institution, by creating (with many other talented musicians) “The Midnight Hymn Sing.” The proceeds went entirely to MCC aid for Syrian and Iraqi refugees. I believe this project raised thousands of dollars and I do not regret this one bit. The last thing I want to do is advocate for stopping donations to MCC. Placing my pain over the pain of those fleeing war is absurd, but MCC, you place me in such an odd position.

So, fair is fair; keep the money, but I have a proposition for you and the employees of MCC: A required disclosure of all sexual activity that each individual has engaged in outside of heterosexual marriage. This will be to see if it meets the requirement of celibacy (especially since you didn’t identify what that means). Not to be crass and make you think about my sex life (oh wait, you already are) but if it is sexual intercourse, then I am good to go!

I doubt this will happen though. I mean, can you imagine? Talk about being in an odd position (no pun intended)…describing all your sexual acts that ever occurred outside of marriage, while someone judges if they were holy or unholy; if something crossed a line and puts your employment and livelihood at risk? The whole thing just sounds too traumatizing, right?

Sincerely,

Addie Liechty (They/them)

A love letter to the scattered pink siblings, from Orlando

2017-07-11T08:13:45Z

by Luke L Miller

My beloved pink siblings everywhere, so many of you weren’t with us in Orlando at the 2017 Mennonite Church USA convention. Orlando was an experience of an aching, haunting absence, an absence experienced most acutely through the beautiful joyous faces and hope-filled eyes of the queer youth who thrived under the sheltering wing of what all of us have built.

Last night, Saturday, after all the convention was packed and done, I was still riding that surge of creative, soul-shining, beloved-community-soaked (and giddy extreme-exhaustion-addled) energy that that I’ve experienced at every Pink Menno, the inhibitions were gone (that was so awesome hanging out last night Kate and Annabeth!) and my brain was connected pretty directly to my mouth, and the phrase that came out was something like “we’ve ripped a hole in the heart of the church with space for queer kids to thrive.” I wish you all could have seen how their eyes shone and their faces beamed safe, relaxed joy as they stood at the center of our hymn sings outside the delegate/summit hall. You weren’t there to see it, but I saw you in there, in those eyes, saw you shining through them. That’s how I knew you were absent, because I looked for you – I wanted to see you so badly – and the only place I could find you was in those eyes.

1. Presence

Pink hymn sing on Wednesday night (July 5) before Youth Worship at the 2017 Mennonite convention in Orlando.

We were present. For the first time, the planners who had been delegated authority to plan the convention by the denomination specifically named the need for queer voices to be present in the church’s discernment process and sought us out. Twenty of us from Pink Menno, Inclusive Pastors and BMC were added to the Future Church Summit joining the queer and supportive delegates already attending from their congregations. For the first time, the inclusive worship service that we planned was an official worship service of the convention, was featured in the bulletin, and to my very rough looking-around-the-room estimation was our largest gathering yet. (Although since straight people got to choose a room for us this time, the lighting was HORRIBLE. Ugh. MC USA, please hurry up and put your queers in charge of lighting. You will seriously thank us.) Several seminars proposed by by BMC were accepted into the convention (LGBTQ pastors, congregational discernment about inclusion, and parents of LGBTQ kids). More than fifteen other proposals from Pink Menno related folks were rejected, including all the ones specifically for queer people. BMC had their booth in the exhibit hall for the second time in recent history and I heard there was a steady flow of folks stopping by to engage in real, meaningful conversations.

Pink Menno held our own space, a room we paid for, and one much further away from the Mennonite part of the convention center than in Kansas City in 2015. We had asked Glen to pay for our room as the denomination’s response to the destruction of queer space at the Orlando Pulse shooting. He said no (and took personal transparent responsibility for the decision in a refreshing non-Menno-bureaucratic way.) So, we had our pink room. Our usual stream of excited, wonderful, completely open youth came through (and loved the hats & shirts Kerry helped design). The pink room’s biggest hit was certainly the Pink Youth Summit, a three-hour mini-church-summit attended by about 40 kids. (Read the Pink Youth Summit notes here.) In addition, about 50 members and pastors from inclusive churches gathered to hear movement updates and learn about LGBTQ elders. We had small circle discussions about queerness and spiritual journey, and Hayley shared a Trans 101 learning event. We brought in boxes of pizza for lunch to debrief and relax. Many supportive delegates gathered in our space to prepare for the upcoming summit. In all, the pink room felt holy, wonderful, and safe, even if diminished in energy from 2015.

Pink overflowed into the heart of the convention like never before. Walking through the halls in my pink didn’t feel dangerous or even all that radical – they know we’re here! The work of past years of scary visibility has worked! Even the official MC USA convention shirts were a shade of mottled soft red that vertiginously teetered on the edge of a full, warm pink. And we were part of the summit. In the room, at the tables, a mature movement full of thoughtful engaged courageous (well-trained?) allies and brilliant blazing comet-in-the-sky queer God-imaging siblings.

2. The Summit

The denomination had only two truncated delegate sessions this year. The Israel/Palestine resolution passed earlier in the week, and there was a bit of one after the summit (more on that later). Somebody somewhere with institutional power (or maybe everybody everywhere?) came away from Kansas City knowing that delegate sessions weren’t working for the church anymore (stay tuned for more on that!) and a different process was designed. What emerged was the Future Church Summit. A couple hundred extra folks (to pull in underrepresented groups) joined the delegates at their table groups. We talked through questions like “what does it mean to follow Jesus as Anabaptists in the 21st century?” and “what are the implications of our diverse identities within the church?” and “what do you perceive as central challenges in the world today?” Our individual responses were sent to a central team electronically in real time, went through a kind of magical human sifter called the theme team (thanks Annabeth!) and emerged as reports of the common themes and threads that ran through the responses.

We also addressed similar questions in “plenary” processes that in all honesty were pretty much kinder, gentler open mic times except you were sitting and looking at small groups of other people on stage as you talked. Our pink folks were there, and we shone! During the first of these sessions, two beautiful queer bodies headed for the line to get on stage (thanks Phil and Kate) and I felt the tension and fear rise in me that always rises when queer people are exposed in hostile spaces – a protective cringing against an inevitable backlash, a learned scared animal response. I breathed, and smiled, and that feeling passed. Pretty quickly. And it felt awesome. Here we were, in the room where it felt like it was happening, and our voices were clear and beautiful and strong and gracious. Some of us spoke directly to inclusion of LGBTQ bodies and lives. Others of us spoke more generally yet genuinely of love and the need for diverse voices. Some in bright pink spoke winsomely on other topics. I felt a real pride. Look at us! BMC, Pink Menno, Inclusive Mennonite Pastors, working and supporting and growing together… we’ve come a long way, and we are so strong.

I got up to talk on stage in response to “what are the implications of our diverse identities within our church?” I knew the Lord was upon me and I had some good news to proclaim. Here’s a paraphrase of what I said:

“For me the question of diverse identities is a theological and spiritual question and is fundamentally a question about creation. It’s a question from Genesis 1. Why did God create LGBTQ people and give us to you? We are healers, teachers, and prophets. You can’t heal the sexual brokenness of this church until you learn from the queer people who have been through long, hard spiritual journeys around sexuality.”

Wow, did it feel awesome to proclaim that message in that room! Also, I have no idea how the phrase “sexual brokenness” popped out of my mouth – whoa, how did that get in there? Weird things happen when you’re on that stage (right Addie?) Speaking of Addie, one of our very own shining-as-the-sun queer siblings opened an entire section of the summit with poetry and solo music on the stage (see video here). Their time was cut from 20 to 5 minutes right before they went on stage, but still…

There was a lot else that happened on stage, and even more that happened at our table groups. There was a kind of weird timeline thing where we tried to think about our history but mostly learned we needed a hell of lot more time to talk about history. There was active lament that more people of color weren’t represented on stage. We learned, predictably but in a comfort-of-home kind of way, that by far the top three aspects of our Anabaptism were still community, Christ, and peace. I can’t speak for everything important that was mentioned, or everything problematic.

I felt… kind of good?… as the summit was drawing to an end. It seemed like a real human community that was struggling to understand itself and work together. It seemed that some halting attempts toward justice (or at least an acknowledgment of the need for justice) for many people had been made. I had the thought at some point that “if this is the messy reality of being a church, maybe it’s really not that bad.” Some actual concrete ideas about structural change in the institution were articulated in the summit report compiled by the theme team: moving toward a congregational polity, simplifying of the confession of faith to be more like the Mennonite World Conference version, congregations relating to each other as adult siblings (CDC folks you are awesome).

We were joking Friday night trying to imagine how they were going to swoop in at the end and ruin it.

3. The Ambush at Orlando, or Whoops! They Did it Again

There was a short delegate session planned Saturday morning after the last of the summit. It seemed to have been billed as a short formality, something like accepting the results of the summit. A resolution had been circulated, already vetted and reworked by the summit planners and other various powers and principles. It read (you’ll want to refer to this later for comparison):

We the delegates of Mennonite Church USA affirm the collective work of the Future Church Summit, and we receive the FCS Theme Team’s report as the direction of our national body. We commend this report to the Executive Board, our churchwide agencies, area conferences and congregations as a guide for living into God’s calling for our church.

There was a short break. I walked around a bit, Tim headed off to staff the pink room, and I gathered in the back with a few other pink non-delegates. A long rectangle table was brought on stage and Ervin and Dave and Patty sat facing us. Patty led us in a song. The resolution was introduced and projected on the screen. Oops! There’s been a request for some open mic time. There’s only time for ten comments, and please get out of line if someone else has already made your comment. Oh there’s a line real quick! Oh look, the first eight people are actually making the exact same comment that they don’t like the summit document and aren’t comfortable that the resolution says that it represents the “direction” of the church. Wow, they all seem to really have very similar feelings about that word direction! (Also, is it just me or anyone else picking upon how they’re almost all from Ohio and Virginia? Weird.) A couple more comments, a white straight guy announces that he didn’t feel safe in the room, and the resolutions committee representative gets on stage. There seemed to be a feeling in the room that there isn’t comfort with the word “direction” in the resolution, so they’re going to rework the language. Why yes, there definitely was that feeling in the room. The first eight people in line at the unplanned open mic definitely expressed that feeling. Anyone else with that feeling? Do we care? Oh, we don’t. Okay! Well, it’s good we don’t care since the resolutions committee is already rewriting the resolution. Are people walking up to the resolutions committee to talk to them? Maybe. Is that a thing? Is that, like, something that can be done? Does anyone know? Does anyone care? Whoops, sorry if anyone cared about that, it looks like they’re back on stage and they have the brand new resolution for you! Here you go! Let me read it aloud while the old resolution is still projected on the screen. What’s that? Did somebody from the audience just yell something about God or something? That’s great, sir! We’ll definitely get that in there. A vague possible murmur will serve as definite affirmation that you all know exactly what is going on. Okay, great, and look, we’ll flash the new resolution on the screen (now with that God thing that that one guy yelled also included! Thank you again sir!). Do you all feel ready to vote? Do you want to talk to your table group about all this for a minute? Let’s make sure to do that. Okay!

I had texted Tim already. He was back in the room. Tim, you are a rock. Hayley, Kate, and Jason, you are my dream theme team – in the moment it takes me breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, your heads are together, your message is written and rehearsed. I don’t feel like standing up and yelling. It doesn’t feel like me. They do it, my dream team, they stand up at the back of the room and shout in unison:

“Don’t build a representative process and then undermine it!”

The mine underneath, however, has already collapsed. We already have a whole bunch of ayes. Somebody yells something about proper procedure, and we have to go back and approve the change of language. Is this a Robert’s rules thing, or an opinion of whether we like the old or new language better? What, oh sorry, we already voted. I’ll look that up later. And… it passed! Thanks so much everyone! Your summit is over, and boy was it a doozy! Hahahahaha. Let’s sing that song again. Ready? Here we go…!

Siblings, here it is, the new resolution that came out of that “process”, the words that will be used to interpret the work of the entire summit, those words that will grant or not grant power, take away or not take away power, make change or not make change:

We the delegates of Mennonite Church USA affirm the collective work of the Future Church Summit, and we receive the FCS Theme Team’s report. We commend this report to the Executive Board. We intend that this report be a dynamic document that is offered to the church to guide further discernment for living in God’s calling in agencies, conferences, constituency groups and congregations.

Can you go back and read the first resolution again, and read this one, and then let me know what you think? They seem different to me. I’m talking to my siblings now. I seriously want to know what other people think. To me, the first one seems to say that we agree that the summit report represents the direction of the church. To me, the second one seems to say something like “here’s something we wrote on a piece of paper and we all pray together as one body that the postman delivers it to the right address Amen.”

Mennonites, your violence is smooth and soft and you pack your tongue screws in the mushiest darkest velvet.

4. The Light

I felt angry and I felt grounded. A number of people came up to ask us what we yelled and why we yelled it. Tim started it, right away, his process work of getting with people from the resolutions committee to talk about what had just happened. And… and other stuff. I got out of there. There was awful lighting in that room anyway. I walked out the doors, and far across the convention hall there was sunlight coming through the windows. There was a pink circle around Phil, already singing.

There was more love there. So, so, so much more love. Infinite love.

We sang with such beauty and power and dignity and joy and pain and peace and anger and despair, all wrapped up together as one, uniting us, uniting our voices and uniting our spirits into one great Spirit. I was held and hugged. I looked around that wide ever-expanding circle, and my eyes took in the light from the face of one of our queer kids. One of your queer kids. Their face was open and relaxed and joyful and seemed to be full of such gentle, beautiful peace. I knew their spirit was at home in that circle, the circle we built, the circle you built, all you beautiful fabulous fierce sacred absent siblings, the circle you ripped into the heart of the church with your prophecy (I love you Jay) and your work and your pain and your courage and your despair and your defeat. The encircling wing, the warm brooding spirit, held our queer kid with such strong love. I didn’t cry for the church, for the Mennonites, for MC USA, for any of whatever it was that had happened or hadn’t happened in that room that had bad lighting anyway. That had already passed through me and was gone. But I did weep for how much beauty could radiate from the face of one safe, loved queer kid. It seemed infinite, seemed like infinite beauty, like one sharp searing glimpse of the face of God, so beautiful that I had to look away and weep while my pink siblings held me close.

Love,
Luke

Further Pink Menno steps

If you would like to discuss our Pink presence at Orlando 17 further, you can join our video call on July 20 at 7 pm ET / 6 pm ET / 5 pm MT / 4 pm PT. RSVP here for details: https://www.facebook.com/events/122922308316770/

Note on 7/11/2017: Text of final resolution has been corrected.

Notes from Pink Youth Summit, July 6, 2017

2017-07-07T15:32:43Z

Notes from the Pink Youth Summit

July 7, 2017

At the Mennonite Church USA convention in Orlando in 2017, 40 youth and young adults met for three hours together and in break out groups to discuss on their visions of the future church related to healthy LGBTQ involvement. These are the main themes.

~Youth articulated their visions, and we’ve tried to make that accessible to Future Church Summit participants~

What Makes it Difficult to Communicate with Older Generations

people under ~24 have a different, more innate way of understanding complex sexual identity and gender
There are also cultural differences b/t sex-positive younger generation & sex-negative older generations
We want adults to be patient and try to learn these concepts:
- Gender vs. Sex. Sex is the biological difference b/t males and females; Gender refers to one’s perceived role in society and/or individuals. These often align in people but not always
- Bisexuality. a person who is attracted to more than one gender
- Gender Fluidity. Understanding gender is a spectrum & how we perceive it evolves
- Gender Identity vs. Gender Expression. GI = innermost concept of self as male, female, a blend, or neither. GE = external appearance of one’s gender identity which may or may not conform to social norms
- Queer. a formerly-derogatory term now used as general term for LGBTQ people
- Intersectionality. The interconnected nature of social categories like race, class, gender, etc.
Tips for Older People: Ask Questions. Listen to their experiences. Being willing to share your experiences. Find ways to recognize genders other than male/female (third gender, gender queer, etc).

How do queer Mennonites interact with the Bible?

The traditional interpretations of some passages can be harmful, and we would like to see conscious reinterpretation of passages that have a negative connotation to us:
- Not just clobber passages
- Genesis 1 (creation of 1 man, 1 woman)
- Words like repent, submit, Rapture
- Paul and epistles
- Leviticus
- Sodom and Gomorrah
- We want to see what these passages can speak into LGBTQ spirituality:
  - Eunuchs
  - Mary (Luke 1)
  - Ruth & Naomi
  - David & Jonathan
We understand that different translations have different biases
We value translations including: inclusive (gender neutral pronouns for God), The Message, Common English Bible, and Young’s Literal

Creating Non-gender Bathrooms

it is a valuable goal to build multi-stall bathrooms open to people in uncomfortable in single-gender bathrooms
Some young Mennonites have already worked in successful campaigns for gender neutral bathrooms in their high schools and (Mennonite) colleges
Reasons for gendered bathrooms include: modesty, false gender binary, concern that men are dangerous to women, adults dangerous to children
- All of these concerns can be addressed & are outweighed by the benefits of gender neutral bathrooms
Some youth see male/female bathrooms as a civil rights issue similar to segregated bathrooms

How Homophobia is Manifest in the Church

Tension in relationships due to your discomfort
Queer bodies struggling from poor self-esteem
Queer people being ashamed of being honest about themselves
Physical abuse
Tokenization/pressure to represent all queer people
Being perceived as only queer (not as a complex person)
High suicide rates among queer people
Heightened negative mental health concerns due to unsupportive family and church
Assumption that everyone is straight
Fear, anxiety, stress around coming out

Ways to Support a Youth (adult) Coming Out

In our experience, these practices support a person coming out:
- Having out members and people who have been through this before
- Not just a “sense of welcome,” but explicit statements of welcome
- In some environments, come out to small groups first
- Having other LGBTQ family/friends/mentors to walk alongside
- Once someone’s out, showing consistent support and normalizing
- It’s often easier to come out to non-religious people than in church
…and beyond coming out
- Standing up for queer people to friends, peers, etc.
- Having allies in the front lines
- Listening again and again and again
- Churches use education materials (i.e., from BMC) to increase understanding

Ways to Create (More) Queer Friendly Worship

Use inclusive language for God (multiple or no pronouns)
When singing, use language of separating by parts, not gender
Incorporating queer Bible commentary and theology into worship life
Use LGBTQ person in all aspects of worship & ministry (invite them to volunteer)
Recognize significant LGBTQ events in prayer time
Providing space—for queer weddings, meetings, etc.
Make space physically accessible for ppl with disabilities
Be aware of what images of God/Jesus are in your church and what message they send
Designate gender neutral bathrooms
Teach about sexuality& LGBTQ spirituality in Sunday School or sermon series

What We Want to See From the Church

Clarifying welcoming statements in individual congregations & denominationally
Less discrimination
Physical demonstrations of acceptance in church
Full participation in church life
Recognizing that Mennonite men defy gender roles through conscientious objection
New understandings of masculinity (as not tough, unemotional, etc.)
Recognition of the violence that has been/is being done
More conversations about sex in general—get comfortable with it!

Help Support our organizing work for Orlando!

2017-04-01T05:01:29Z

Dear Pink Menno supporter,

It’s been 8 years since we first came together to wear pink as a sign of our commitment to welcome and inclusivity for the LGBTQ community in the summer of 2009 at the Mennonite convention in Columbus, Ohio. A lot has changed since then. A lot has stayed the same.

This year’s convention in Orlando will bring with it some new opportunities for us as well as challenges. One of our leaders, Annabeth Roeschley, has been involved in developing a process known as the Future Church Summit, and Pink Menno is helping choose some participants in that summit. At the same time, we continue to see high levels anxiety among church leaders about fully including Pink Menno and LGBTQ people in workshops, in providing space for us to meet, and in acknowledging their own complicity in the harm that they have caused LGBTQ people. This will be particularly poignant at a convention occuring near the massacre of many LGBTQ people at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando.

You donation can make a big difference as we continue our work to transform the church. Next weekend, April 5-7, a group of our leaders will be joining other organizations working for LGBTQ inclusion in the church at a training and strategy seminar, and we need your support to cover their travel costs. Your donation will also contribute to covering the cost of room rental for the Pink Menno space in Orlando. Please give here:

As an all volunteer organization, we depend on your support. Together, we are changing the church. Thanks for being part of this movement!

Sincerely,
Pink Menno leadership group,
March 31, 2017

Compassion, Justice, and Kim Davis: Some Queer Reflections

2015-09-11T01:41:07Z

Contributed by Justin Yoder

“Yes, Kim Davis is a bigot, and yes, her four marriages are relevant. But we need to be able to . . . discuss her hypocrisy without engaging in bigotry ourselves. [. . .] Should we call people out for bigoted beliefs? Absolutely. Should we make fun of the way they talk or mock them for where they’re from? No.” – from “We Need to Be Able to Call Out Kim Davis’ Bigotry Without Slut-Shaming or Hillbilly-Shaming”

(Ty Wright/Getty Images)

I found Patheos.com contributor Libby Anne’s blog post helpful in parsing out some of the issues that are at play in the aftermath of Rowan County (KY) clerk Kim Davis’ refusal to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples. Kim Davis is a beloved child of God, as is each one of us. That simple fact should be enough to keep us from responding to her actions with hateful classist insults and sexist personal attacks; sadly, this has not been the case. The author does a great job identifying some of the inappropriate and unhelpful tactics that have been employed in responding to Kim Davis. I want to hold myself accountable to her call to refrain from sexism or classism in critiquing Davis.

I must admit that I’ve bristled to some of the calls from progressive and moderate voices for “compassion,” “respect,” and “empathy” towards Davis — not because I don’t believe in compassion, respect, or empathy, but because some of those calls have promoted a false equivalence between the systemic and sustained oppression, violence, humiliation, and injustice that LGBTQ people have historically experienced (and continue to experience even in post-Obergefell America) and Kim Davis’ experience in the wake of her actions. The Myth of Christian Persecution in the United States is alive and well, and some of the responses I’ve read have come very close to propagating it.

I can imagine that Davis experiences oppression and systemic violence in any number of ways on a daily basis, based on her particular social location. I wish that our nation were committed to providing the resources needed to secure economic justice, dismantle patriarchal systems, combat misogyny, achieve environmental justice, and undo classism. I reject the suggestion, however, that Davis’ punishment for breaking the law is itself a form of oppression, or that it is in any way analogous to the persecution and oppression of queer people that Davis herself has contributed to. I have no doubt that this situation has caused Davis pain, especially given the name-calling she’s received from outraged observers. But I object to analyses that position her as victim. I think back to a particularly astute comment made by drag performer Rory O’Neill (aka “Panti Bliss”) when he was chastised, threatened with legal action, and, incredibly, accused of “hate speech” after calling several homophobic Irish journalists “homophobes” in 2014: “[It’s] a spectacular and neat Orwellian trick,” O’Neill said. “It turns out that gay people are not the victims of homophobia; homophobes are the victims of homophobia.”

In the pleas for respect, empathy, and compassion that have come out, I hear an important reminder that Davis is a beloved child of God who does not deserve name-calling, insults, and personal attacks. I also hear a call to contextualize Davis’ behavior, to position her not as a heartless, evil bigot, but as the product of a particular culture, location, and religious tradition. I understand that impulse and by and large affirm it. I don’t think Kim Davis is malicious, or heartless, or evil. Like all of us, her worldview has been shaped by her world, and her faith tradition forms a significant part of that world. Taking that context into consideration may help us understand her better, and it might even give us pause when we’re tempted to lob hateful insults her way. But I see two major areas where caution is needed in this call for empathy and understanding:

First, attempts to explain Davis’ anti-queer position and illegal discriminatory behavior as a direct consequence of her “conservative,” “literal,” “fearful” Biblical hermeneutic (and only of that) give her simultaneously too much and too little credit for her actions.They give her too much credit because Davis is not just a Christian adhering to a particular religious tradition (inconsistent and hypocritical as that adherence may be), but also, like all of us socialized in present-day America, a person shaped by the queerphobia that pervades our entire society. Anti-gay attitudes and behaviors, even when couched in explicitly religious language, cannot be extracted from the forces of good old-fashioned homophobia, heteronormativity, and queer hatred; it’s never just about religious beliefs. They give her too little credit because a conservative hermeneutic does not automatically lead a person to the position Kim Davis has placed herself in. More and more Christians from conservative traditions have found a place for LGBTQ people within their hermeneutic, and of the ones who haven’t, very few have chosen to illegally force their beliefs on others in an attempt to effect the disenfranchisement of an entire segment of the population.

Second, and more importantly, while understanding Davis’ behavior is obviously not the same as excusing it, I think maintaining that distinction is more challenging than we might assume. I say that not to discourage attempts to empathize, extend compassion, and seek to better understand where Davis is coming from, but to reiterate several realities: Davis’ behavior is wrong and oppressive; her theology, and that of many other people of faith, actively harms queer people by promoting intolerance, persecution, rejection, discrimination, and violence; the situation for many LGBTQ people in the U.S. remains, on so many levels, in so many cases, absolutely dire. Understanding where Davis is coming from will not make her behavior any less oppressive. It won’t prevent or repair any of the harm that her theology inflicts on queer people. And it certainly won’t lessen the urgent need for justice. If we find ourselves deeming her behavior less oppressive, her theology less harmful, and the need for justice less dire, we have conflated understanding with excusing.

As a final note, I’d encourage us all to remember that extending compassion, respect, and empathy to someone who is threatening your legal rights and attacking your personhood is a tall order. It’s something I aspire to. I’m convinced it’s what Jesus would do. But it’s a tall order. I affirm the good intentions of allies calling for compassion, respect, and empathy. I hope they will bear in mind that what that requires of queer people differs considerably from what that requires of straight/cisgender people. I hope they’ll think seriously about what harm is theirs to forgive, and what harm is not. And I hope, too, that they’ll be willing to spend some time being angry, sad, and outraged with those of us for whom the hurt is more personal — especially those of us who are, like Kim Davis, people of faith.

May compassion grow. May respect prevail. May empathy flourish.

May justice come.

Lament for the institutionalized church: Trauma, rage, and hope from Kansas City

2015-07-19T03:42:31Z

[Reposted from Our Stories Untold. Read Rae Halder’s original post here.]

Rae wrote a version of this piece, originally posted on Facebook, late on Friday, July 3, after attending the Mennonite Church USA’s “Service of Lament and Hope” for survivors of sexual abuse. The service came a day after MCUSA delegates passed two seemingly contradictory resolutions related to LGBTQ bodies. One, the “Resolution on Forbearance in the Midst of Difference,” submitted by a politically diverse coalition of pastors, asked Mennonite congregations to “forbear” with one another amidst their conflicts over “same-sex covenanted unions.”

The other, the “Resolution on the Status of the Membership Guidelines,” was submitted by the MCUSA Executive Board, and put forth its own interpretation of “forbearance,” stating, “In order to exercise forbearance on matters that divide us and to focus attention on the missional vision that unites us, the delegate assembly will not entertain changes to the Membership Guidelines for the next four years.” The Membership Guidelines of MCUSA condemn “homosexuality” and require MCUSA area conferences to “review” the ministerial credentials of any pastor performs a covenant or marriage ceremony for two people of the same gender.

On Thursday afternoon, after the Membership Guidelines resolution was passed, dozens of Pink Menno supporters stood silently in the hallway of the convention hall for nearly an hour, facing the outgoing foot traffic from the delegate hall. In order to past through the hallway, delegates had to navigate a maze of pink-clad bodies. Many stood in tears; some, including Rae, wore pink duct tape over their mouths to symbolize the ongoing silencing of queer voices.

On Friday morning, the delegate body passed another resolution, a “Churchwide Statement on Sexual Abuse.”

— Stephanie Krehbiel

The evening of July 3rd I walked into MCUSA’s “Service of Lament and Hope” hoping to find a space for healing that I could come to with my wounds. I left that space with deep pain and extreme rage—a rage I rarely, if ever, feel. I was pissed off. No, that’s an understatement: I was furious.

On July 2nd our church passed “A Churchwide Statement on Sexual Abuse.” Elizabeth Soto Albrect, moderator of Mennonite Church USA, asked the delegates to be mindful when speaking about the subject matter with fellow delegates, as many among them could be sexual abuse survivors. “Certain things may trigger painful memories,” she stated.

A few Pink Menno’s performed a gorilla theater piece during the Forbearance Resolution voting delegate session.

Well, that service more than triggered painful memories—it triggered my rage. I was triggered by having that above statement spat right back out at my face. I was triggered by Mennonite Church USA’s lack of mindfulness when speaking to their constituents. My pain from Thursday, of being told through the passage of the Forbearance and Membership Guidelines Resolutions that I am not a legitimate member of the church, and that this fact won’t be debated again for four years, was triggered. The memory that not a single LGBTQ person was invited to speak in the delegate hall, and that when they “forcefully” exerted themselves through guerrilla theater because they are done with not being invited they were met with extreme anger and a demand to have the doors locked to keep the queer folk out, was triggered. The memory of being declared not worthy of respect was triggered. The violence of not having my body and personhood recognized was triggered. The painful memories of standing in silent protest while delegates walked by making condescending statements such as “Don’t worry, things will get better!” or not even looking me in the eye was triggered. Being reminded of the sin I continue to see and experience against me was triggering.

Mennonite Church USA, your words spoken the night of the 3rd are empty. They mean nothing to me, a survivor of sexualized violence, and a survivor of continued sexualized violence systematically orchestrated by you. The longer I sat in that service and listened to those words, while stealing glances at my fellow Pink Menno friends sitting in the pews with pain clearly written on their faces, the more my blood began to boil. Every word you uttered in that service could be, should be, directed towards them—yet we weren’t even acknowledged as a possible component of the equation. Every word you uttered in that service was directed towards me, yet it was completely inauthentic as you only acknowledged a tiny slice of the sexualized violence I have and continue to experience by the hands of the church. How can you not acknowledge the continued sexualized violence you perpetrate against me with absolutely zero acknowledgment of the pain and trauma you are not only causing me, but hundreds of other Mennonites, thousands if we count the countless persons who have been hurt over the years and have left the church because of this continuing spiritual, emotional, and abusive violence.

Rachel Halder stands with pink duct tape over her mouth in silent protest with other Pink Menno’s on Thursday afternoon, after the Membership Guidelines resolution was passed.

Mennonite Church USA—you are violent. You are inflicting pain and destruction on persons’ souls. The Churchwide Statement on Sexual Abuse resolves “to tell the truth about sexual abuse; hold abusers accountable; acknowledge the seriousness of their sin; listen with care to those who have been wounded; protect vulnerable persons from injury; work restoratively for justice; and hold out hope that wounds will be healed, forgiveness offered, and relationships established or reestablished in healthy ways.”

Mennonite Church USA, I ask you to honor the document you passed on the 2nd with only three opposing votes and four abstentions. Mennonite Church USA, can you PLEASE learn to tell the truth about sexual abuse, something you committed in a volatile way by passing both the Forbearance resolution and the Membership Guidelines resolution? I, and many others, are trying to hold you accountable. We are trying to explain to you the abuse you commit. We are trying to help you become aware of the intricacies of power structures that you clearly do not understand. Please acknowledge the seriousness of your sin. Please learn to listen to those who have been wounded—invite us to tell our stories. I challenge you, how are you going to protect us—your LGTBQ community—from your injury? How are you going to work restoratively for justice with us? Are you seriously telling me that you’re holding out hope that our wounds will be healed? When will the apologies be offered? How do you propose to establish relationships with us? In 20 years will you be holding a service of “Lament and Hope” for the sexual violations you continue to commit today? Do you think that will be enough, just as you may think what you did last night is enough? Mennonite Church USA, are you ever going to wake up and recognize that the above statement is about YOU—an institution who continues to perpetuate sexualized violence against its constituents?

Let me tell you something—it’s not enough. It is not enough at all. Your acknowledgment is only a tiny fraction of what could be done, and the fact that you can only acknowledge a small slice of my pain publicly creates an even deeper wound.

Do these words make you flinch? Does this anger make you uncomfortable? I really hope it does, because the slight flinch you experience at these harsh words are only microscopic versions of the flinches my fellow LGBT and queer friends experience repeatedly, over and over and over again, when we are unwelcomed by you, our church.

Thank you, Mennonite Church USA, for getting me in touch with this inner rage, with this wise soul inside that knows when to say, “Enough is enough”; this beautiful soul inside who says, “Girl, you are a rae of sunshine, a beam of love and beauty, and you have all the permission in the universe to throw your fiery molten lava around.”

Pink Meno hymn sing on Saturday, July 4, 2015 outside the delegate assembly at the Mennonite Convention in Kansas City. It was the largest ever hymn sing with well over 300 people joining in. Panorama photo by Luke Yoder

Thank you MCUSA for helping me find my people–you all, this amazing Pink Menno crew. In my little bubble of pink convention love I experienced Christ like never before. Christ is alive and well within me and my fellow pink wearing comrades. Christ exists in the many ways I have been counseled, comforted, loved, and received. Christ was in those circles as I laughed, cried, yelled, cursed, and laughed again. Christ pours out of the soul-filled songs I share with others in spaces we are not welcomed into, but that we take up anyway, and Christ is breathed in to my body through the soul-filled air when I momentarily lack the strength to share my voice. I, too, have watched over and over again the beauty of the resurrection through the bodies, faces, experiences, and strength of my fellow pink friends. I watch as we are cast out—occupy our places of pain—and then get up the next day and do it again. We are so strong. We are so fierce. WE ARE SO SACRED!! Walking in solidarity with my people, I see the presence of the Divine Spirit is alive and well, and this is why I went to convention—to experience Christ’s love beyond this level of reality through a community of outcasts, of perceived sinners, of dehumanized persons rejected by the status quo.

Mennonite Church USA. I reject your service of lament just as you reject me. Maybe we can get it right next time?

I’ve been asked by some who believe that LGBTQ identities are sinful if they, too, are perpetrators of sexualized violence. And to that my reply is, Yes. First, I want to say that I don’t think those who abuse are innately bad. With that said, many abusers have no cognitive realization that they’re violating other persons. That seems pretty absurd, right? But it’s the truth. They do not understand the harm they’re inflicting on the victim and the trauma the victim lives through until they get the kind of help and support needed to understand the intricacies and psychological patterns of sexual abuse.

Saturday July 4, the day after the healing service, I had to live through a blur of PTSD. I knew that service triggered me, but the next day when I woke up I had no idea the severe impact it would place on me. I attempted to go to an 11:15 AM OSU seminar where Barbra, Hilary, and I were to present our stories of sexualized violence. When I began moving towards and through the convention center I couldn’t handle it. I started crying and could not stop. I couldn’t breathe. I felt overwhelmed and incapable of making any sort of decisions. I did not make the 11:15 scheduled time, and when I finally got to the door I sat outside and just cried, not even fully acknowledging the many people swirling around me. Multiple people stopped to try to help or see what was wrong, and it finally took someone picking me off the floor and saying, “Go back to your hotel room, right now” in order for me to make any sort of movement. I skipped the seminar and curled up in a fetal position on my bed where I remained shaking until 4:00 PM when I felt like I was able to leave my room to attend the inclusive pink menno service supported by inclusive pastors.

That is classic PTSD. I was re-traumatized by attending the service that MCUSA planned as a lament of sexualized violence. I’m not being dramatic—this is my lived experience. To believe that you are not committing sexualized violence simply because you do not realize what you are doing, the trauma you are committing, through your exclusive beliefs about love and humanity just simply isn’t so. I can’t change your heart and I can’t force you to see something differently, but the pure fact is that the actions of institutionalized exclusivity helped aid me in a full blown episode of PTSD.

These past two weeks since convention have been a blur of emotional turmoil. The rage that coursed through my veins the following week was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Thank God my beloved Lama Foundation community are compassionate human beings who were able to hold me in my anger, silence, and emotional confusion. Through these two weeks I questioned so much: Do I really want to be a part of this violent church? Why am I trying to fight for justice in an unjust system? What is the point of exerting so much energy into something that just brings me pain and sadness? Why the hell am I going to seminary in the fall?! Am I really ready to take on the work I feel called and commissioned to do? Am I able and ready to stand in my wholeness, my centeredness, and enter into these spaces without getting triggered into a state of PTSD? Can I believe and trust in myself, my calling, and my longing to be whole even when confronted by thousands who tell me I don’t deserve it?

Free spirited worship at “Bound Together, Together Free” service held by Pink Menno, Inclusive Pastors, and BMC on Tuesday before the week of convention began.

I’m finally seeing the light through the emotional daze I’ve been floating around in for what I’ve deemed as too long. I’m finally coming back to remembrance: that I am so much more than all of that which stops me in my tracks. Underneath all that consumes me I am that which is pure, unstoppable, all knowing, and so very powerful. I also recognize that this power within me has nothing to do with what I say or know, where I am, what I look like, who I like to have intimate relations with—this is the power of my God-given, God-ordained, God-rejoiced PRESENCE. It is the heat and light from my internal burning fire that flames from my heart and longs to reach out to everyone who comes in contact with me. This is the power of all those giving their lives to love and justice, standing together in circles, building power side by side. This is the True Church: the church to which I belong and love and give myself fully to. And this is all that matters.

Pink Menno Press release on July 2, 2015 Action at Mennonite Church USA convention

2015-07-02T21:55:11Z

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE, 7/2/2015, PINK MENNO, CONTACT: MATT DEAN (717) 802-2070

IN SEPARATE ACTIONS, PINK MENNO DE-PINKS DELEGATE SESSION; TAKES STAGE AS MCUSA DELEGATES PREPARE TO VOTE

Mennonite Church USA Convention staff member Sue Conrad tries unsuccessfully to take microphone from Pink Menno actors performing satirical theater piece.

Members affiliated with Pink Menno held two actions on Thursday morning, July 2, 2015 at the Mennonite Church USA (MCUSA) delegate session in Kansas City, MO. These actions highlighted the lack of representation in Mennonite church processes by those most impacted by today’s resolutions: lesbians, gay folks, bisexuals, trans folks, and queer folks (LGBTQ people).

Both actions pointed to the injustice of church processes that for decades have excluded and marginalized the LGBTQ community and our allies. While each resolution will be discussed by delegates today on its own merits, our message is that the entire process is flawed and does not represent LGBTQ Mennonites because it has not included LGBTQ Mennonites from the beginning. We will not be complicit in our own oppression. The advocacy work of the movement for inclusion of LGBTQ people will continue whether these resolutions pass or fail.

Invitation to De-pink

At the conclusion of the Pink Menno hymn sing, Pink Menno asked our supporters who were wearing Pink in the delegate assembly to wear garbage bags as a way of de-pinking the delegate assembly, a visual representation of the silencing LGBTQ folks. Below is the statement supporters received along with garbage bag.

“The very documents upon which MCUSA was founded mandated the exclusion and diminishment of LGBTQ lives. Shoring up, or making minor adjustments, will not fix the cracks that are inherent in a foundation built upon unjust structures. The unity the church seeks will not be realized by continuing to scapegoat LGBTQ lives. As Pink Menno, we cannot give consent to what is at heart an illegitimate undertaking.

Today we de-pink the delegate session to symbolize our rejection of a flawed and violent process.”

Members of the Mennonite USA and Pink Menno supporters wear garbage bags during the hymn sing outside the delegate assembly, symbolizing the de-pinking of the delegate assembly, a visual representation of the silencing LGBTQ community.

Satirical Theater Piece

Individuals affiliated with Pink Menno took the stage on Thursday to hold a theatrical mock vote satirizing MC USA’s historic pattern of voting, to block LGBTQ people from participation in the church. Indicating their unanimous “No” vote with a dance of the Hokey Pokey, they voted down a resolution barring individuals “struggling with opposite-sex attraction at variance with the Mennonite Confession of Faith,” stating “we trust our beloved community members to make ethical and faithful sexual choices.” During their three minute performance, there were shouts from the delegate floor, and an MC USA staff member attempted to wrest the mic from a performer’s hand.

“For the past 30 years, MC USA has been kicking the can down the road – the can being queer people. As we prepared for today’s resolution, we knew we had to point to the absurdity of our Mennonite community, gathered in the liberating love of Christ and committed to peacemaking, continuously insisting on voting on the worth of our bodies,” said Jennifer Yoder, who performed the role of convener.

“This may have been the first time a resolution explicitly addressing straight sexual behavior was brought to the delegate floor,” added Yoder.

Full text of the mock “resolution”:

“Because we as Mennonites believe in clear boundaries and tall fences to keep out any abominations in the eyes of God:

We heretofore resolve that those struggling with opposite-sex attractions at variance with the mennonite confession of faith will not be recognized for their membership or ministry in the life of the church.

All those in favor will be asked to say “Aye”!

Those opposed, please do the Hokey Pokey and turn yourself about. “

How can I keep from singing? (Part III)

2015-06-26T02:17:49Z

This series of posts shares interviews conducted by Bobby Switzer for a thesis project at Goshen College, curated for this series by Pax Ressler. The questions below are Bobby’s, with responses from Wilma Harder, Stephanie Krehbiel, Pax Ressler and Carol Wise. For more information about the Mennonite LGBTQ+ justice movement, see the appendix at the bottom of the page:
“A History Lesson with Dr. Krehbiel”.

Bobby Switzer: What songs have sustained you? Sustained the movement?

Wilma Harder: The “new” hymnal was published in 1992, amid a lot of all of this. This brought new songs into the works as well, and a new excitement of others who spoke of inclusion of all believers. Much of the songs that came back over and over at the above mentioned events were new songs filled with hope. “Here in this place” was one such song. “Will you let me be your servant” was sung so much that it became almost irrelevant. The same with “Come to the Water”.

Songs like “Unity” had been in the public domain during the 70s and brought poignantly out at opportune times over and over and over. The same with “We Shall Overcome”, of course, used so much in the 60s during the civil rights movement, and we sang it as well. I remember trying to sing that song at a BMC convention in Philadelphia, stopping part way through and thinking “you know what? I really don’t see a time when we shall overcome”. I don’t think I’ve been able to sing it through since. I think that was in 1990.

The same with “How can I keep from singing”, another song of hope and strength. In 1995 I was no longer able to sing those words, as I felt so beaten down and utterly discouraged. I could no longer sing hymns at all. I had quit attending church and had revoked my membership at Assembly. At the time I was actively performing locally with my partner and we were asked to perform at Mennofolk, and if we did so, we were to perform our version of that particular song. Well, I said, I have not been able to sing that song for a few years, and if I do so I’ll need to write some additional verses. I framed my two verses with two other verses I found in Rise Up Singing, not the hymnal.

Here are my verses:

My life goes on in endless song
my peers and loved ones question
They argue whether I belong
within the church , their bastion.
The storms that shake my inmost calm
have quenched my hope, I’m clinging
to those who love without regret.
I rarely feel like singing

Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear that music ringing.
But when I try to join right in
I feel the tears, a-stinging.
The well of sorrow deep inside
grows ever, ever deeper.
When my church to me was denied
it nearly stopped my singing.

Not the best writing, but it said then what I needed to say. I somehow got through it, and there was not a dry eye in the room.

“I somehow got through it, and there was not a dry eye in the room.” – WH

Pax Ressler: Some of Pink Menno’s anthems have become “You’ve got a place at the welcome table” and “Rain down”. Some of my best memories from the 2013 Phoenix Convention are from singing songs that don’t necessarily speak to queer inclusivity per se, but rather empower queer people to “be church” and encouragement to one another. My most powerful memory from Phoenix is holding hands in a circle of pink outside the delegate session, singing “Peace before us”. This is the church I want to be a part of.

Stephanie Krehbiel: I don’t go to church. So on a regular basis, no, it hasn’t. I listen to tons of music, but don’t participate in any kind of regular singing. That said, because I grew up in a Mennonite church with a really powerful, conventional four-part singing tradition (with an organ—I was GC), that kind of singing does have a powerful effect on me. Singing with Pink Menno has helped me get through two MCUSA conventions (Pittsburgh and Phoenix), both of which I attended for research purposes and found quite emotionally challenging. There are always a lot of tears at Pink Menno hymn sings; I was not alone in that.

I’m trying to remember songs that are consistent fixtures in Pink Menno. “What is this place,” and “My life flows on” are two that spring to mind right now. Importantly, neither of them is particularly heavy-handed with the patriarchy.

Carol Wise: In the 90’s, there was a series of conferences sponsored by BMC referred to as the “Dancing Conferences.” These conferences were held at various places in the US and were important in bringing together lgbtq people and allies. Worship and music were important components of these conferences. Jane Ramseyer Miller (who has directed “One Voice Mixed Chorus” here in Minneapolis for 20 years) even wrote “Dancing at the Wall” for one of these conferences. I’ve attached a scanned copy of it. Within the Church of the Brethren, songwriter Lee Kranbuhl wrote a very catchy piece called “We Are Not Going Away” that energized many people and was often sung.

Carol Wise: In my ecumenical work, I am aware of the plethora of new hymns that are being written for the welcoming movement. Most of these are outside of the Mennonite tradition, but represent some exciting work. David Lohman, Faith Work Coordinator at the National LGBTQ Task Force, is also a talented musician and is busy putting together a hymnal for the welcoming movement. You might be interested in talking with him—he has written several wonderful pieces for the faith-based lgbtq movement.

Pax Ressler: Hymns speaking to the central focus of the current queer/transgender movement—”intersectionality” (a term that acknowledges systems of oppression such as racism, classism, sexism, cissexism, and heterosexism as connected and interrelated)—are few and far between. I recently wrote a hymn about intersectionality that was selected as a winner of Mountain States Mennonite Conference’s Anabaptist Songwriting Competition, entitled “Camina Conmigo (Walk With Me)”. I wrote this song in part to dispel the dangerous myth in many Mennonite communities that Latino and LGBTQ+ people can’t coexist and “be church” to one another due to theological differences. This is problematic on many levels—and I wanted to write a hymn that gave voice to these communities’ struggles as connected and interrelated. I think it may be one of the first of its kind in the Mennonite Church!

Are there hymns that have been detrimental to you or the movement?

Wilma Harder: Oh Bobby. My answer definitely is yes. More than I consciously know. Many times I still am not able to finish singing a particular song, as such deep feelings of hurt come to the surface. Even though Assembly is now a (mostly) completely safe space for me, there was a time when it wasn’t. Although I knew at the time that I was being damaged, I had no idea just how damaged I was becoming, or how deeply that damage was imbedded. This often happens just out of the blue when we’ll start in with a song and suddenly I just can’t sing. “How can I keep from Singing”, ironically, is one of those songs.

“Many times I still am not able to finish singing a particular song, as such deep feelings of hurt come to the surface.” – WH

Pax Ressler: I think many of the hymns that may have felt empowering to the movement at one time have outlived their usefulness to me personally in my current reality. For example, using “There’s a wideness in God’s mercy” as a hymn to advocate for LBGTQ+ justice can easily be interpreted as a call to enact radical love that overlooks sin (like the inherent “sins” of LGBTQ+ people). That message doesn’t resonate with me. It doesn’t take a radical act of love or mercy in order to accept LGBTQ+ people, just an act of human decency. LGBTQ+ people are already known and loved by God—and they are worthy to be full members of the Church. “There’s a wideness in God’s mercy” is a good hymn for everyone to use and sing in other contexts (we should be reminded that God’s mercy is wide daily), but not as a justification for extending mercy and inclusion to LGBTQ+ people. This framework denies the inherent worthiness of LGBTQ+ people, a message that can have dangerous effects on queer and transgender communities.

“It doesn’t take a radical act of love or mercy in order to accept LGBTQ+ people, just an act of human decency.” – PR

Are you aware of any stories about hymn singing causing a shift in one’s beliefs in regards to LGBTQ+ justice?

Stephanie Krehbiel: No, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. I think it’s probable that Pink Menno’s presence has forced some people to confront their discomfort with being in proximity to openly queer bodies. I would imagine that there are a lot of untold stories of personal transformation there—both from straight folks and from LGBTQ folks who have been able to be more comfortable with themselves.

Pax Ressler: The measurable social impact of singing hymns (as it related to “changing hearts and minds”) is hard to define—and likely less important than empowering queer/transgender people with the knowledge that they belong, that they are valuable and that they are loved. As with most forms of social advocacy, people change as a result of people; people change from having a specific, important personal connection to LGBTQ+ justice. I imagine that many who do not have this connection or have chosen to shun/silence their queer/transgender loved ones see Pink Menno hymn sings as self-righteous and inappropriate. This line of thought is a distinct position of privilege in not having the need to advocate for themselves and their community in Mennonite spaces. LGBTQ+ people live in daily need of advocacy and empowerment in the Mennonite Church—a reality that many do not realize or understand.

What hymns are important to you? Are there specific lyrics?

Pax Ressler: The songs I chose for the “Stand By Me: Hymns of Hope & Healing” album (a response to violence against queer/transgender people in the Mennonite Church) have significant meaning for me. This visual imagery for healing speaks to me:

Let the seed of freedom awake and flourish
Let the deep roots nourish, let the tall stalks rise
O healing river, send down your waters
O healing river, from out of the skies

Like many others, I live for:

The sure provisions of my God attend me all my days
O may thy house be mine abode and all my works be praise
There would I find a settled rest while others go and come
No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home

This feels incredibly relevant in thinking about the many LGBTQ+ people who have been exiled or have been forced to leave the Church for their own safety (and were brave enough to seek health and wholeness elsewhere). To these people, I imagine “No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home” is one of the most beautiful images for God’s love.

Appendix: A History Lesson with Dr. Krehbiel

Switzer: What do you know about the beginnings of the movement for inclusion in the Mennonite church? Were there notable moments of its origin? Specific actions that might mark its beginning?

Krehbiel: The most notable moment in the Mennonite movement for inclusion is probably the founding of Brethren Mennonite Council on LGBT Interests in 1976, by Martin Rock. (Back then it was “Gay and Lesbian Concerns.”) And that should be noted more broadly as an Anabaptist moment, since from the beginning it was ecumenical, with Brethren and Mennonites working together. Martin Rock was a gay man living in Washington, D. C. and he was fired from his position at Mennonite Central Committee for being gay after someone anonymously outed him. He had worked for them for 11 years. He started BMC around the same time that he was fired, with a group of gay Mennonite and Brethren men in the D.C. area. That organization grew (and diversified, at least in terms of gender), pretty steadily throughout the 1980s and 90s, and it continues to grow through its Supportive Communities Network.

Switzer: What have been the key moments/players in the church’s history with respect to LGBTQ+ inclusion?

Krehbiel: That’s a pretty hard question to answer because in a 40-year history, there have been a lot. BMC has been the central locus of LGBTQ Mennonite organizing for most of that history. In terms of what has happened within the institutional church—the (Old) Mennonite Church, the General Conference Mennonite Church, and eventually MCUSA—I’d say that very generally, the 1980s were marked by some gradual steps towards collective education (with many, many setbacks), the 1990s were a time of conservative retrenchment, and the MCUSA has been quite aggressively divided on LGBTQ inclusion from its inception. The MCUSA was essentially founded on a pact with conservative churches that openness towards LGBTQ inclusion would not be tolerated (see the 2001 Membership Guidelines). Conservatives interpreted that as law; moderates interpreted it as an “issue” that they hoped would become less consequential in time. LGBTQ Mennonites and those who supported them unconditionally were almost completely marginalized in the denomination’s founding. So the formation of MCUSA in 2001-2002 is certainly a key moment, and Mennonites are still living with the consequences of that.

It’s also important to remember that before MCUSA, the General Conference was certainly the more tolerant of the two denominations in terms of maintaining a congregational polity approach to churches that had LGBTQ members. That doesn’t mean there weren’t very homophobic voices within the denomination; it just means that GCs were less likely to expel congregations over LGBTQ members. The Old Mennonite Church had more of a bishop tradition as well as a stronger evangelical influence. Because so much of the General Conference was in Canada, the national split led to considerably fewer GC congregations than MC congregations in the new MCUSA. That has certainly had an effect on denominational politics.

The network of straight pastors who perform same-sex weddings has been increasingly active throughout the existence of MCUSA, particularly as queer couples have had more and more access to legal marriage. Jennifer Yoder and Luke Yoder formed Pink Menno in 2009 to be a visible queer presence at biennial MCUSA conventions and they have been the public face of the movement ever since.

For more, visit Part I and Part II of the “How can I keep from singing?” series.

Anabaptist-Mennonites Form a Chapter of SNAP (Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests)

2015-06-24T21:01:07Z

PRESS RELEASE June 23, 2015

Statement by Barbra Graber of Harrisonburg, VA, SNAP-Menno Leader

Press Contact: Stephanie Krehbiel, SNAP-Menno Chapter member, stephaniekrehbiel@gmail.com

Anabaptist-Mennonites form their own SNAP chapter www.snapnetwork.org

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Twelve Mennonite-related survivors of sexual abuse and their advocates have joined other faith groups to create an Anabaptist-Mennonite Chapter of SNAP, the Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests. Now in its 26th year, SNAP is an inclusive and independent advocacy group for victims of sexual abuse, created by survivor-activist Barbara Blaine and then joined by David Clohessy and Barbara Dorris to expose the sexual violations of clergy in the U.S. Catholic Church. Their influence has since expanded around the world to serve survivors of predators and pedophiles from within a variety of faith communities. SNAP’s mission: “protect the vulnerable, heal the wounded, expose the truth.”

Convened by long time victim-advocate Dr. Ruth E. Krall with SNAP-trained survivor-advocates Cameron Altaras, Barbra Graber and advocate Jeff Altaras, SNAP-Menno provides a safe place, entirely independent of institutional structures, for Mennonite-related survivors to seek healing alongside other Anabaptist Mennonites. Other founding chapter members are Rachel Halder (survivor-advocate), Stephanie Krehbiel (advocate), Keith Morris (survivor-advocate), Tim Nafziger (advocate), Hilary Scarsella (survivor-advocate), Lisa Schirch (advocate), Sylvia Shirk (survivor-advocate), and Jennifer Yoder (survivor-advocate).

SNAP’s helpline (1-877-SNAP HEALS) offers a confidential listening ear to anyone who has seen, suspected or suffered sexual abuse within a faith community. SNAP’s Survivor Support Groups, facilitated by SNAP-trained leaders and with a time-tested format created by SNAP survivors, provide a place where victims and their loved ones come to receive anonymous aid from other survivors. Many of these self-help groups are available across the continent for survivors and their loved ones. SNAP-Menno and OurStoriesUntold.com will co-sponsor such meetings during Mennonite Church USA’s biennial convention in Kansas City, from 1-2pm on July 2, 3, and 4 in the Citiscape Room of the Aladdin Holiday Inn Hotel in KC. Contact Barbra Graber for more information.

The 2015 Annual SNAP Conference will take place in Alexandria, VA, July 31-August 2. Concerned Mennonites are welcome and encouraged to attend. Register for a day pass or the full schedule: http://www.snapnetwork.org/2015_snap_conference

CONTACT SNAP-Menno Leaders: E-mail: Mennonite@SNAPnetwork.org

Cameron Altaras (Washington State): 206-930-7067, Jeff Altaras (Washington State): 206-930-7065

Barbra Graber (Virginia): 540-214-8874

ADDITIONAL NOTES

to accompany June 23, 2015 Press Release “Anabaptist Mennonites form their own SNAP Chapter”

The seeds of this Mennonite movement began with Dr. Ruth E. Krall, emeritus professor of nursing, religion, and psychology and former peace studies program director at Goshen College. She was first introduced to Catholic activists when she heard Dominican priest Father Thomas Doyle speak in 2006 about the connection between clergy sexual violence and institutional clericalism —that cloud of personal power we are taught to hand over to ordained leaders and their religious hierarchies. Krall had already dedicated decades of her life to understanding and penetrating the deeply hidden plague of sexual abuse among Mennonite clans and found herself saying “I know this story. I recognize this story.” With an educational and clinical background in psychiatric/community mental health nursing and in pastoral theology, her sexual violence advocacy had strong footing.

In late 2011 Krall released a 3-part online book The Elephant in God’s Living Room which brought carefully researched and documented attention to renowned Mennonite peace theologian John Howard Yoder’s serial sexual abuses. It includes a detailed timeline in which institutional church leaders in the 70’s and 80’s, with credible allegations of his behavior, allowed it to continue. As part of her research, she read her way through Richard Sipe’s webpage and stumbled across SNAP as well as Bishop Accountability’s Abuse Tracker.

When Krall’s path crossed with Mennonite survivor-activist Barbra Graber, Krall began sending her links to SNAP news and information. Graber is a former Eastern Mennonite University professor and director of theater, now an associate editor of OurStoriesUntold.com, a website devoted to preventing sexualized violence among Mennonites. Graber survived sexual assault as a very young child at the hands of her father and other child predators in her small Mennonite farming community. As is common for childhood victims, another violation was perpetrated against her as a teenager by her much older Baptist brother-in-law, and again as a recent college graduate by a married man in a Mennonite Church sponsored travelling drama troupe. She was so drawn to the wealth of knowledge and hope in the SNAP resources Krall sent her that she and OSU founding editor Rachel Halder attended SNAP’s 2014 conference in Chicago.

“I was overwhelmed with emotion walking into a room of several hundred survivors who had, like me, been sexually violated by the same persons who taught us about God and were members of our faith community,” Graber reports. “I knew many Mennonite survivors of sexual assault, but very few who called it that or were able to speak openly about it, much less publicly confront the church’s denial and collusion. In Chicago I discovered passionate and wholly committed survivors of sexual trauma, of all genders, without shame, wearing placards around their necks that held pictures of themselves at the age of their abuse. They were taking clear courageous action collectively and publicly as survivor-activists to ‘protect the vulnerable, heal the wounded, and expose the truth.’ It was one of those watershed moments. I knew I had found a true network of support –something I’d sought after all my life.”

Meanwhile Krall was implementing a long held dream: to create an Anabaptist-Mennonite Chapter of SNAP. She tested the idea with Father Thomas Doyle in October 2014 when he was invited to consult with the Anabaptist Mennonite Seminary in Elkhart and lecture at College Mennonite Church’s New Perspectives in Faith series, a weekend of events she initiated.

Fr. Doyle introduced the idea of a Mennonite Chapter to SNAP leaders meeting in Chicago and soon Krall received a letter from SNAP President Barbara Blaine welcoming Mennonite sexual violence activists into the organization. Since that time SNAP Outreach Director Barbara Dorris and Executive Director David Clohessy have become important mentoring colleagues.

On November 18, 2014 Krall and Graber conference-called with Dorris and began a list of Mennonite-related persons they knew who may be interested in joining the cause. Among those was a Canadian, Cameron Altaras who was sexually violated by her teenage uncle when she was a child and again as an adult by a Mennonite pastor.

In January of 2015 Graber, along with Altaras and her advocate-husband Jeff Altaras, attended the SNAP Leader Training in Tampa, FL. Jeff and Cameron are co-leading, with a Catholic survivor, a group in Seattle while Graber plans to start a SNAP Survivor Support Group in Harrisonburg, VA sometime this fall. All are available for anonymous and confidential support.

The SNAP-Menno Chapter joins other SNAP Chapters of Presbyterian, Jewish, Jehovah’s Witness, Missionary Kids, Christian Orthodox, and Boy Scouts, among others under the umbrella of SNAP’s international outreach.

www.snapnetwork.org

Toll Free SNAP Phone: 1-877-SNAP HEALS (1-877-762-7432**)**

Toll Free National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433**)**

For more information contact the Anabaptist-Mennonite Chapter/SNAP Leaders:

Email: Mennonite@SNAPnetwork.org

Cameron Altaras (Washington State): 206-930-7067**, Survivor**

Jeff Altaras (Washington State): 206-930-7065**, Advocate**

Barbra Graber (Virginia): 540-214-8874**, Survivor**