The Methodists know how to do church. Sixty minutes and out the door. Wham, bam, thank you I am! (That is what you call bad Christian humor.)
Clifton United Methodist Church caught my attention for a couple of reasons. First, it is located in my neighborhood, and I want to make sure I visit at least one neighborhood church every two months. It was nice to see familiar faces from the community.
Second, Clifton United Methodist appeared to be a pretty liberal church. They have a female lead pastor, which in unique. (Unfortunately, she wasn’t there on the Sunday of my visit.) Also, they claim to be very welcoming to the gay community. Their web site states, “The congregation is a very diverse group, reflecting the breadth of our welcoming statement. Truly all are welcome in this community of faith, having been a welcoming and safe harbor for gay and lesbian people of faith for many years.”
After three traditional, (mostly) conservative churches, I thought it would be nice to mix things up a bit. A few details:
The church sat about 250 people in traditional pews, and I estimate it was 70 percent full. Most of the congregation was over forty years old (lots of people in their sixties and seventies), but there were some young people sprinkled in here and there. I didn’t realize the Methodist Church was so ritualistic. More hymns, more chanting, more structured prayers.
Having labeled themselves, “A safe harbor for gay and lesbian people of faith,” I wasn’t sure what to expect. It sounded as though gays and lesbians were being chased through the streets of Cincinnati with torches and pitchforks, and Clifton United Methodist was hiding them in the cellar until the mob dispersed.
Of course, that isn’t the case. But here’s the thing—there were a lot of homosexuals at the service. There wasn’t a show of hands, and no one had a rainbow flag draped around their shoulders, but it was obvious there was a strong gay and lesbian presence.
And I thought it was a beautiful thing. I have been vocal about my stance on this issue for years, but I believe one day the church will look back on their oppression of gays and lesbians, and it will illicit the same shame and embarrassment as past racial oppression does today. Some churches “welcome” people from the gay community and then tell them to change how they were created by God. They tell them they have no right to love the person of their choosing. And they tell them they don’t deserve the right to marry that person. That is not welcoming.
Clifton United Methodist takes a difference stance. They truly welcome people as they are. One of the most moving parts of my experience was seeing significant diversity in sexuality all worshipping the same God. How many churches can say that?
But their all-inclusive nature didn’t stop with sexual orientation. At the end of the service, they opened up the microphone for prayer requests. First, it was very cool to see people sharing personal struggles with the church body. It really seemed like a practice that would build a strong sense of community over time. Second, they actually took time to pray for the Islamic Association of Cincinnati. The Muslim mosque right down the street was bombed back in 2005, and it’s pretty obvious Clifton United Methodist is serious about loving their Muslim neighbors, despite ideological differences.
To be honest, the service was pretty “boring” overall. Nothing weird happened. Nothing amazing happened. But there was something else going on at Clifton United Methodist. More than anything else, they want to be known as a place that loves others, regardless of race, sexual orientation, religion, age, or gender. Conservative Christians may have a problem with some of the details, but it’s hard to argue with love. It’s the first place I have been during the experiment where I feel a visitor would have felt comfortable (especially someone who isn’t a Christian).
The weirdest moment:
At the beginning of the service, the pastor brought all of the children up front for a special “kid’s message.” He took about five minutes to make a point about repentance. All of the adults just sat back and watched. It was kind of cute, but also pretty awkward at times. Once their message was done, the kids all ran off to Sunday School. I have never seen that in church before.
The worst moment:
Ritualistic worship confuses me. I am not a huge fan of the rock concert style of worship that is popular in seeker-sensitive churches. In fact, I have always had a difficult time connecting with God during any kind worship. But singing hymns just seems bizarre to me. First, it’s hard to keep up. Half the time, I have no idea what the beat or rhythm is supposed to be, so I am just way off from the rest of the congregation. Second, it seems so devoid of passion or emotion. So far, I have experienced some energetic worship where people act crazy and some mellow worship where people are comatose. Where is that nice “in between” worship where people are energetic and passionate, but not flopping around and speaking in tongues like crazy people? Union Baptist was close, but even they really seemed to like their hymns.
The best moment:
The pastor’s message was about forgiveness. Personally, I can’t hear enough about this concept. He talked about how unhealthy it is to keep anger and resentment in our hearts. It always feels like one of those “duh” statements, but it’s so true. Unforgiveness hurts the people we hold grudges against, and it paralyzes us. The pastor asked us to take a moment of silence to consider someone in our lives we need to forgive. I did, and I encourage you to do the same. As the pastor said, it doesn’t mean we forget what that person did (because remembering can protect us from future harm). It doesn’t me we excuse what that person did (because people need to be held responsible for their actions). And it doesn’t mean we start trusting them (because some people are untrustworthy). It simply means we break the chains of unforgiveness and free ourselves from the burden and bondage of vengeance. Bitterness is poison to our souls, and we only hurt ourselves when we refuse to forgive.
The most interesting moment:
Before he began speaking, the pastor made a point to ask the congregation to welcome new people. I surmised the pastor was pretty new to the church (as I mentioned, he was filling in for the lead pastor), and he talked about how welcomed he felt when they first arrived six months ago. Then, he challenged people to avoid huddling with friends and family, and instead seek out unfamiliar faces. (Every church seems to struggle with this “club” mentality.)
So, I decided to put the congregation to the test. After the service, I simply stood at the back of the church and waited to see if anyone would talk to me. I was alone, making eye contact, and hopefully seemed friendly. Of course, a lot of people found family and friends and huddled together to talk, but I am pleased to report that four different people actually stopped to say hello to me. Jeff, Jerry, Laura, and Ellen. No one really struck up a meaningful conversation, but they all seemed very pleasant and did their best to make me feel welcomed.
Overall, Clifton United Methodist was a nice experience, but not nearly as “dramatic” as my other three visits. The lasting memory will be their commitment to inclusion. Lots of churches claim to be diverse communities that welcome everyone, but then you look around and realize a very high percentage of their congregations are pretty much the same. If your church isn’t diverse, even though you claim to be a welcoming place, it begs the question … why not?
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Clifton United Methodist Church caught my attention for a couple of reasons. First, it is located in my neighborhood, and I want to make sure I visit at least one neighborhood church every two months. It was nice to see familiar faces from the community.
Second, Clifton United Methodist appeared to be a pretty liberal church. They have a female lead pastor, which in unique. (Unfortunately, she wasn’t there on the Sunday of my visit.) Also, they claim to be very welcoming to the gay community. Their web site states, “The congregation is a very diverse group, reflecting the breadth of our welcoming statement. Truly all are welcome in this community of faith, having been a welcoming and safe harbor for gay and lesbian people of faith for many years.”
After three traditional, (mostly) conservative churches, I thought it would be nice to mix things up a bit. A few details:
The church sat about 250 people in traditional pews, and I estimate it was 70 percent full. Most of the congregation was over forty years old (lots of people in their sixties and seventies), but there were some young people sprinkled in here and there. I didn’t realize the Methodist Church was so ritualistic. More hymns, more chanting, more structured prayers.
Having labeled themselves, “A safe harbor for gay and lesbian people of faith,” I wasn’t sure what to expect. It sounded as though gays and lesbians were being chased through the streets of Cincinnati with torches and pitchforks, and Clifton United Methodist was hiding them in the cellar until the mob dispersed.
Of course, that isn’t the case. But here’s the thing—there were a lot of homosexuals at the service. There wasn’t a show of hands, and no one had a rainbow flag draped around their shoulders, but it was obvious there was a strong gay and lesbian presence.
And I thought it was a beautiful thing. I have been vocal about my stance on this issue for years, but I believe one day the church will look back on their oppression of gays and lesbians, and it will illicit the same shame and embarrassment as past racial oppression does today. Some churches “welcome” people from the gay community and then tell them to change how they were created by God. They tell them they have no right to love the person of their choosing. And they tell them they don’t deserve the right to marry that person. That is not welcoming.
Clifton United Methodist takes a difference stance. They truly welcome people as they are. One of the most moving parts of my experience was seeing significant diversity in sexuality all worshipping the same God. How many churches can say that?
But their all-inclusive nature didn’t stop with sexual orientation. At the end of the service, they opened up the microphone for prayer requests. First, it was very cool to see people sharing personal struggles with the church body. It really seemed like a practice that would build a strong sense of community over time. Second, they actually took time to pray for the Islamic Association of Cincinnati. The Muslim mosque right down the street was bombed back in 2005, and it’s pretty obvious Clifton United Methodist is serious about loving their Muslim neighbors, despite ideological differences.
To be honest, the service was pretty “boring” overall. Nothing weird happened. Nothing amazing happened. But there was something else going on at Clifton United Methodist. More than anything else, they want to be known as a place that loves others, regardless of race, sexual orientation, religion, age, or gender. Conservative Christians may have a problem with some of the details, but it’s hard to argue with love. It’s the first place I have been during the experiment where I feel a visitor would have felt comfortable (especially someone who isn’t a Christian).
The weirdest moment:
At the beginning of the service, the pastor brought all of the children up front for a special “kid’s message.” He took about five minutes to make a point about repentance. All of the adults just sat back and watched. It was kind of cute, but also pretty awkward at times. Once their message was done, the kids all ran off to Sunday School. I have never seen that in church before.
The worst moment:
Ritualistic worship confuses me. I am not a huge fan of the rock concert style of worship that is popular in seeker-sensitive churches. In fact, I have always had a difficult time connecting with God during any kind worship. But singing hymns just seems bizarre to me. First, it’s hard to keep up. Half the time, I have no idea what the beat or rhythm is supposed to be, so I am just way off from the rest of the congregation. Second, it seems so devoid of passion or emotion. So far, I have experienced some energetic worship where people act crazy and some mellow worship where people are comatose. Where is that nice “in between” worship where people are energetic and passionate, but not flopping around and speaking in tongues like crazy people? Union Baptist was close, but even they really seemed to like their hymns.
The best moment:
The pastor’s message was about forgiveness. Personally, I can’t hear enough about this concept. He talked about how unhealthy it is to keep anger and resentment in our hearts. It always feels like one of those “duh” statements, but it’s so true. Unforgiveness hurts the people we hold grudges against, and it paralyzes us. The pastor asked us to take a moment of silence to consider someone in our lives we need to forgive. I did, and I encourage you to do the same. As the pastor said, it doesn’t mean we forget what that person did (because remembering can protect us from future harm). It doesn’t me we excuse what that person did (because people need to be held responsible for their actions). And it doesn’t mean we start trusting them (because some people are untrustworthy). It simply means we break the chains of unforgiveness and free ourselves from the burden and bondage of vengeance. Bitterness is poison to our souls, and we only hurt ourselves when we refuse to forgive.
The most interesting moment:
Before he began speaking, the pastor made a point to ask the congregation to welcome new people. I surmised the pastor was pretty new to the church (as I mentioned, he was filling in for the lead pastor), and he talked about how welcomed he felt when they first arrived six months ago. Then, he challenged people to avoid huddling with friends and family, and instead seek out unfamiliar faces. (Every church seems to struggle with this “club” mentality.)
So, I decided to put the congregation to the test. After the service, I simply stood at the back of the church and waited to see if anyone would talk to me. I was alone, making eye contact, and hopefully seemed friendly. Of course, a lot of people found family and friends and huddled together to talk, but I am pleased to report that four different people actually stopped to say hello to me. Jeff, Jerry, Laura, and Ellen. No one really struck up a meaningful conversation, but they all seemed very pleasant and did their best to make me feel welcomed.
Overall, Clifton United Methodist was a nice experience, but not nearly as “dramatic” as my other three visits. The lasting memory will be their commitment to inclusion. Lots of churches claim to be diverse communities that welcome everyone, but then you look around and realize a very high percentage of their congregations are pretty much the same. If your church isn’t diverse, even though you claim to be a welcoming place, it begs the question … why not?
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
