Bathroom Usage

Sigh. The latest installment in the email arguments over our new church welcome is: "will we have to offer a transgendered bathroom if we open the church to transgenders and transsexuals?"

To be clear, we HAVE opened up our church to all people, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity (among other things). But, I seriously doubt that people who are looking for a place to worship are going to choose us based on whether or not we already have a gender-neutral bathroom. (We don't, though I see no reason why we couldn't do that in the future.)

I just don't think the bathroom issue is the biggest thing on people's minds when they're looking for a place of worship. Call me wild and crazy, but I think if people are looking for a church, they aren't first saying, "Well, the number one thing we need is a church with a transgendered bathroom." Perhaps they're looking for fellowship? Friendship? A decent worship experience? Programs for their kids? Some old-fashioned church music? A way to reconnect with parts of their past that have long been dormant? I doubt it's the bathrooms.

For the few readers who might really be concerned about the bathrooms, I'll offer this: most of the bathrooms in the church are super-small and therefore immediately locked once you're in them anyway. In other words, they're like your lavatories at home: private. They may currently be marked "women" and "men," but there's no reason the labeling on the doors couldn't be changed in the future, if someone voiced a need to have that done.

I'm sick of the stupid reasons people come up with for not welcoming all people to churches (and other places of worship). I'm pretty sure people who come through our doors will find our places of pee adequate enough.

So much to blog, so little time

Today. Today, my quite diverse church -- at least in terms of political leanings -- voted 81% yes in favor of a welcome statement that explicitly describes our congregation as welcoming of ALL people, regardless of race, ethnicity, language group, economic status, gender orientation, sexual identity, or handicap status. For me, of course, this was a no-brainer, an easy "yes," and WAY overdue.

In case you don't realize it, an 81% majority on any issue in a church is an extraordinary thing. You probably couldn't get an 81% majority on votes for colors of pew cushions, or on types of plaques to hang in the memorial hall, and certainly not on the menu items to offer the choir kids. In other words, there would be less unanimity on issues of far less consequence.

Over the past few days, emails have flown, fast and furious, between a few people who were adamantly against this proposed welcome, and a select few of us who had been vocal in our support of it. We knew, based on early survey data, that this welcome was likely to pass at today's congregational meeting. In fact, it passed with a larger margin than was suggested by the data (the survey data had revealed a 75% majority in favor).

The arguments against the welcome have fallen into two camps: a) the anti-homosexual one, and b) the don't-we-already-welcome-everybody-why-should-we-single-some-people-out one. Another line of thinking was that the welcome didn't explicitly proclaim the gospel, though in my humble opinion, that was basically a clever combination of arguments a and b.

I have, predictably, made some enemies by my vocal stance in favor of this issue (in fact, I think this is just the tip of the iceberg; I am all for gay marriage). I have also made some new friends, and discovered that you really cannot predict who is against or in favor of this issue. Some of the most conservative, closed-minded people are about 24 years old; some of the most open-minded are in their 80s (and have invited me to be on committees to schedule talks during adult education hour).

Lesson: never be afraid to speak your mind. Good things sometimes happen when you do.