Almost, But Not Quite, Accepted

by Debra Coe

Have you ever been almost completely, but not quite, accepted aspart of an organization, team, workplace, or family? Maybe you were the kid who made the team but never got a chance to play. Maybe you were included in some workplace meetings but excluded from others. Maybe you were asked to stand aside while family photos were being taken because you weren’t quite part of the family. Maybe you were the only single mother in the Sunday school class who was left out of social gatherings. If you can relate to any of these situations or the myriad of other scenarios of not fitting in perfectly, try to remember what that felt like. No matter what the circumstances, it is demoralizing to be held in the status of “included, but…”

My position in our society is that of being part of the majority culture. I am accepted as I am just about everywhere I go. I don’t wear a hajib; I don’t speak with an accent. And I don’t share a marital relationship with someone of the same gender. So, cannot say I understand what it feels like to be on the margins. Most of us don’t. We fit in well. But recently, I’ve been thinking about how I might personally relate to being almost – but not quite - fully accepted. 

My limited exposure to being deemed “less than worthy” gives me only the tiniest glimpse of what it must feel like to be placed in the paradoxical status which the MCC claims to offer to the LGBTQIA community. 

I grew up in a denomination where divorce was forbidden. Scripture was used to justify the denomination’s decision. (Matt 5:32) After my divorce, the only way I could regain full status within the denomination would have been to have had my marriage annulled. This was actually proposed by some well-intentioned family members. However, after twenty years of marriage and three children, I simply could not see this as an honest route.  

No matter. I was assured by my denomination that I was still welcomed and loved and could participate in the full life of the denomination - with one exception. I couldn’t receive communion. Ever. Communion in this denomination is offered every week. So, every week, those in my pew would rise and scoot past me as I sat enduring the looks which to me seemed to indicate some combination of pity or confusion. I was acutely aware that I was seen as unworthy of receiving this sacrament.

I could also never remarry. (Again, Matt 5:32) Although the state recognized my divorce, my denomination did not. As a result, I found myself the object of the “hate the sin; love the sinner” club. From the point of view of this sinner, I sure didn’t feel the love. 

In addition, the same denomination used Scripture to support their view that because I was female, I could never seek ordination, not that I ever held that aspiration, but again, I was deemed unworthy because of my gender. I was assured my services would be greatly valued. However, Scripture “clearly stated” (1 Corin. 14:32) that my service was never to be allowed in the holiest of roles since I was female. 

Nevertheless, I was encouraged to remain in the church and to serve the Lord cheerfully. I was repeatedly reassured that the church truly did love and value me. Somehow, I acutely felt the disconnect between these assurances of inclusion and the exclusion from full service. 

So, what is an almost, but not quite, worthy of full acceptance person to do? Stay and downplay the hurt or leave and find a place that is more accepting? I chose to leave the denomination I’d been part of my entire life and that was a part of my heritage going back centuries.  

Ironically, I now am in a denomination that is about to split over another version of the same question: Who is included and who is not? And again, Scripture is being used as the basis for this determination.

As purported Christians, we have used selected verses to separate those who are worthy from those who are not for as long as the church has been around. Whatever the issue, we’ve drawn lines in the sand and then tried to convince ourselves and those we’ve excluded that this is not exactly what we have done.

The examples I gave earlier about being made to feel less than worthy are nothing in comparison to the feelings of alienation experienced by those in the LGBTQIA community. After all, I have not been publicly harassed, threatened, beaten, or murdered as have so many of my gay brothers and sisters. I can only imagine what it must feel like to face discrimination day in and day out and then to find that the place that is supposed to be a sanctuary from world’s hatred also considers me to be unworthy of full inclusion.

Those who say they will open wide the doors for everyone and will love and support and include LGBTQIA persons in every possible way (except marriage and ordination) are only fooling themselves and attempting to fool others. I know in small part what it feels like to be considered unworthy and so do they.