Today I was formally received into the Episcopal Church. I can’t tell you the theological or doctrinal significance of this. But I can tell you how it makes me feel. Today I was received into a church that embraces radical hospitality manifested by an unbridled sense of inclusion. I like that!Before the Eucharist this morning, the bishop who presided at the service had a short chat with me and the other four newly received. He said something that blew my mind and made me KNOW that I had made the right decision for me. I’m paraphrasing, but the bishop said essentially this: “Being received into the Episcopal Church has nothing to do with conversion. Everything that led you to this point in your life is worthy and good. If you were baptized and confirmed in the Presbyterian Church or the Baptist Church or the Roman Catholic Church, that’s a part of who you are. That’s a part of what led you to be where you are today. We celebrate everything about you, including the religious traditions you have embraced up to this point. When I made my confirmation as a Presbyterian at age 12, I meant it. There was nothing wrong or in error about the commitment I made at age 12 even though I went on to become a bishop in the Episcopal Church. The same is true for you. You’re not packing up and leaving your house. You’re simply moving to a different room in the same house. And I believe someday God will break down all those walls that separate the rooms in this house. When all is said and done, I don’t think God cares one wit about denominations.”
So there you have it. Thanks to my good friend, Leslie Hortum, for being my sponsor; to John Hortum for preparing me; to Bishop David Jones for blowing my mind and making me feel so welcome today; and everyone at St. Clement in Alexandria. Thanks to you for all the support and encouragement you have given me over more than 51 years of my life. Today I made a choice that’s right for me and celebrates all of the faithfulness of my life. I want to celebrate that in all of you and everyone I meet. One day when my son or daughter comes to me and says, “Dad, I’m a gay Buddhist werewolf,” I pray that I will have the grace (and the good sense God gave gravel) to say, “Amen, child. I love you and embrace you and the journey you’re on. I will help you and support you in every way I can.” That’s what I pray I will do. I think I can. Hallelujah!
Peace,
Pat
