Sacred Journeys: A Pastor's Memoir with Spiritual Reflections

By Paul Whiting

"Sacred Journeys is a totally fascinating book, raw with spiritual emotion and sexual frankness. I recommend that everyone read it."
-Rev. Elder Troy Perry, Founder, Metropolitan Community Church

"Paul Whiting tells his story in his own unique and engaging way, without apologies. He is a truth teller, a gifted preacher, an interpreter of the Word. Sacred Journeys is a valuable resource for every library."
-Rev. Elder Nancy Wilson, Metropolitan Community Church

"While gays and lesbians have gained acceptance among many Christians, the same is not true within conservative churches. Paul Whiting's writings will be of great interest to evangelicals going through experiences similar to his."
-Andrew Shackleton, Evangelical Fellowship, United Kingdom

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 20, 2004
• ISBN: 9780595772964

Paul Whiting

Reverend Whiting, an ordained minister, has been a member in congregations of the Assembly of God, the Anglican Church, and the Universal Fellowship of Metropolitan Community Churches. He has served on governing boards of national and international organizations in Europe and America. He has celebrated Holy Communion on a mountainside in the Swiss Alps and on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. A native of Great Britain, Paul currently resides in the USA where he teaches, preaches, writes, and assists others to build a spiritual life with positive gay values.

Book preview

SACRED JOURNEYS

A Pastor’s Memoir with Spiritual Reflections

by

REVEREND PAUL WHITING

Edited by TOM SWICEGOOD

iUniverse, Inc.

New York Lincoln Shanghai

SACRED JOURNEYS

A Pastor’s Memoir with Spiritual Reflections

All Rights Reserved © 2004 by Paul Whiting

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the

publisher.

iUniverse, Inc.

For information address:

iUniverse, Inc.

2021 Pine Lake Road, Suite 100

Lincoln, NE 68512

www.iuniverse.com

ISBN: 0-595-32502-5 (pbk)

ISBN: 0-595-77320-6 (cloth)

ISBN: 978-0-5957-7296-4 (ebook)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Sacred Journeys

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Spiritual Reflections

Holy Hocus Pocus

Journey into Light: 21st Century Christ

So Many Ways to Say Yes

Desert Survival

All Change at the Temple Gate

Being Christ in a Queer Generation

God is One Step Ahead

The Message of the Cross

Split In the Camp

The Bread Line

Freedom, Cry Freedom

Our Family, Our Values

Little Is Much If God Is In It

Celebrating Saints

Dedicated to

TIMOTHY W. MARTIN

I am especially grateful to Tom Swicegood, Jallen Rix, and Charlie Arehart whose encouragement and help enabled me to complete this memoir

Tom Swicegood is the author of Our God Too, Von Cosel, The Intoxicated Taxi, & other books

Sacred Journeys

Chapter One

Emigrating from Britain was a dramatic means of moving on. I thought I was finally free of the legalistic shackles of my fundamentalist upbringing when I arrived in the USA, land of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Enthusiastically rejuvenated in my faith by what was called liberation spirituality, I was looking forward to an environment where, unlike in England, faith is an openly accepted part of the culture.

But my enthusiasm was quickly dampened.

I had first visited the United States when I was in my early twenties. I was then impressed by America’s freedom of religion. Huge churches, enthusiastic followers, and a seemingly unrestrained outreach were in stark contrast to England where religion was never expected to be mentioned in polite or friendly conversation. Years later, I realize I mistook regional saturation of the USA’s conservative Christianity for freedom. I was later appalled at how fundamentalism has spread and alarmed at the religious pressure in American politics, something rarely evident in Britain’s official church-state alliance. Has America made such a radical shift? Or did my perception drastically change?

Holding those thoughts I was invited to speak at the Mid-West District Conference of Metropolitan Community Churches. Metropolitan Community Church (MCC) is a viable denomination of predominantly gay and lesbian congregations. The conference was held in Des Moines, Iowa—a city where, five months earlier, I had moved to become pastor of the local MCC congregation. It was Memorial Day weekend when representatives from churches in ten midwestern states gathered at the Savoy Hotel located near the downtown skywalk.

Des Moines, once the heartland capital of farming, is a rapidly growing corporate city. It stands for everything that is good about America: good education, good healthcare, low unemployment, and the freedom of wide open spaces. Even bitter winters have advanced Des Moines’ futuristic vision. Three miles of enclosed glass walkways, heated or air conditioned to compliment the season, connect the entire downtown area.

I was scheduled to be the conference’s closing speaker.

Three hundred people congregated in the Savoy’s ballroom on the last day amid an air of agitation caused by the weather. Hours earlier a tornado causing minimal damage had skipped across the state. I’d also had a troubled night. I left the conference the previous evening after an AIDS memorial service, emotionally raw from remembrances of losses back in England. Painful memories I thought had been left behind were compounding my preaching nerves.

Clergy formed a cortege as clocks heralded showtime. With our best ceremonial step we paraded into the auditorium while, with gusto, the gathering sang All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name.

This Sunday was special. Twenty years earlier, the Des Moines church had received its charter in the same hotel. We were invited to wear our favorite religious stoles, ceremonial scarves depicting differing aspects of the church calendar—traditionally white or gold for special occasions like Christmas and Easter, red for ordination and Pentecost, purple for Lent. I elected to wear one in memory of my close friend Reverend Bob Jones, an American who until his untimely demise had been among MCC clergy residing in Britain. The stole had belonged to Bob. It was professionally made with a rainbow of colors, yellow, blue, purple and red bandannas. I had worn it before on special Sundays because in my mind it symbolized both diversity and unity—values MCC stood for.

As I took my seat among the platform party I noticed that several prominent local pastors were seated in the audience. Things seemingly proceeded in a manner typical of MCC conferences. Perhaps there were too many accolades but praise was deserved by many who had worked hard to make the conference successful.

About midway into the service, two rows of people stood up and walked out. Unperturbed, I made my way to the podium and looked at the remaining sea of faces. I half smiled, recalling that 15 years before I’d vowed never to preach again; yet there I was one more time, seeking to honor my calling to ministry. I’m not sure who had been the most persistent about my becoming and remaining a preacher—myself or God. I do know my dad would have been proud to know his son was bringing the Lord’s Word to an important gathering.

Our theme derived from a Biblical quotation, Now You Are God’s People. The sermon that day was entitled The Succession of God’s Special People which prompted my opening statement, If now we are God’s people, what were we before?

A ripple of laughter greeted the question.

I began to trace events that identified MCC as a fellowship, paying tribute to the work of our pioneers. Lifting the ends of my stole, I explained, This stole has been in MCC longer than many of you. It was one my good friend Bob Jones wore in his early days with MCC. Bob would want me to bring you his greetings. Incidentally, his mother’s home is here in Des Moines.

Fingering the stole, I said, "To me this cloth of many colors speaks of the willingness of our pioneers to stand up for difference and diversity. It also is a personal reminder that now, since too many of our earlier members have passed on, I am called to share their legacy with you who are our new generation of ministry.

Gradually, my nervousness gave way to passion. As my eyes lifted from the script in front of me, my lips hurled words of encouragement mixed with needles of provocation. Be strong, I urged, "because this is something that involves us all. True strength comes from a multitude with each doing a little. Be strong. It is the message God gave to Joshua who succeeded Moses and led the Hebrew people into God’s Promised Land.

"We are called upon to be successors in ministry. The first consequence of being a successor is that we have to deal with a sense of loss. Our succession comes through someone else’s defeat, resignation, or death. That sense of loss, especially in a church context, can be the greatest obstacle to moving forward.

"The loss of heroes and founders could so easily prevent us from going forward, but in our loss we have to find strength to work toward fulfillment of their vision. It is their gift to us. Among the many reasons Jesus had to die, one was to empower his followers.

"A mistake we are in danger of making is that in order to justify our call to ministry we need to reclaim the past, believing that in order to be the people of God’s choosing we need to be like people God chose before us. If so, we fail to understand the reason we have been called to be God’s people is to do something that others have not. One of the major pitfalls of any second or third generation is to conform rather than follow the vision of its roots and the leading of the Spirit. We therefore have to be strong in our vision of the future.

MCC’s strength is revealed in its commitment to diversity. The very essence of our faith is salvation for all people yet, too often, we limit ourselves to people like us. ‘Come and be like me’ is a gospel of sameness that has crept through the Christian church undermining the true calling of Christ. Diversity is hard, but it is only in such an environment that we see the true strength of the faith we share—a faith strong enough to embrace all people. There continue to be new people each day who discover themselves to be different. We need a gospel that loves them.

My sermon ended to a mixture of enthusiastic applause and disapproval.

The conference closed, and I left for lunch with several colleagues. Only then did I become aware of the outcry I’d caused. I hadn’t sensed any problem and had forgotten the walkout. As it transpired, there were some folk who would not hear my speech. They were otherwise obsessed with what didn’t belong in the church.

While we ate, one of my friends joked, You certainly took the conference by storm.

You British don’t beat about the bush, do you? said another.

Strong words I didn’t understand until one of my friends explained that to some people present that day my stole meant something quite different from what I intended. They thought they saw an arcane code of back pocket handkerchiefs. My critics either didn’t hear my spoken message or ignored the explanation of why I wore the stole. They associated too great a personal identity with it; bringing into the Des Moines sanctuary elements of their sexual awareness that they could not reconcile with religion.

One irate pastor commented, Why didn’t Whiting just wear a dildo around his neck? A sex toy would have communicated the same thing.

I shrugged off the negative reactions. As my friends said goodbye, I reassured myself that they were just winding me up. Yet I winced at the thought that their words might be true, and deep inside felt a stab of pain. I headed home in the hope of putting the matter behind me.

But that was not the last to be heard! Someone reported my dress code to the Credentials Committee—a board that validates ministers for ordination. The committee later cautioned me on my lack of sensitivity.

Why should people have been so offended? I wondered.

Were we still so unwilling to accept our sexuality?

It seemed unbelievable!

I’d heard MCC described as the religious right of the lesbian and gay movement, but I had chosen to laugh at such statements. Maybe I laughed too readily.

The controversy ridiculed sacrifices MCC’s founders had made.

Amid the protests I received a personal letter from a former Elder, Reverend Charlie Arehart, who was present at the conference. He applauded my message and called me a Young Joshua. Indeed! We still have walls that need to be torn down.

In England I had been known as a community activist. Being pastor to Manchester’s Metropolitan Community Church congregation was one of several roles, but in America I concentrated on just being an MCC pastor. Other than the novelty factor of my being English there seemed little interest in my past and reasons that brought me to the New World.

How was I to find my voice in a mid-western community? My immigration status restricted me to religious work and prohibited active political involvement. Since I looked the same as most Caucasians in the area, it was generally assumed I’d grown up like them.

In fact, I had never heard of Leave It To Beaver.

I was different.

Even the most accepting churches struggle with difference, but I hoped, at least, for MCC to afford me honesty. MCC had brought so much hope to many of us from fundamentalist backgrounds. It encouraged us to keep a fervent evangelical faith without restricting our freedom to love. That was so radical! But now it seemed, instead of going forward, we were in danger of being swallowed by the mass of American religious conservatism. We were far less than the reforming body I hoped for.

In 1906, a revival at the Azusa Street Mission in Los Angeles sparked a movement, radical to mainstream Christianity, that became known as Pentecostalism. Almost simultaneous with the happenings in Azusa Street was an outburst of tongue speaking groups around the world, most notably in America, Europe and South Africa. Their emergence was unique because the groups seemed to transcend race and gender barriers. From them emerged a number of church denominations including Apostolic Faith, Foursquare, and Assemblies of God.

I am a fourth generation Pentecostal.

Where my story begins and where I now find myself may be viewed as totally opposite positions; yet the passions that motivated me to stay with the Christian faith rather than leave make this a story worth telling. Why, as an openly gay man, should I validate a religion that is seen by some as oppressive? It could be the presence of oppression that gives credence to who I am.

I’m a F.A.G. pastor; that is, Former Assemblies of God.

In some ways Metropolitan Community Church and the Assemblies are not dissimilar. They are both faith organizations rather than theological ones; that is, their core existence comes from