By Dorothee Benz
Advent is about preparation and waiting. Preparing for the miraculous and unbelievably fantastic, wonderful Good News that God has come to earth to be with us, that God is here with us in the midst of suffering, injustice, struggle. When I was a little kid, the markers of that preparation, generations-old traditions from the old country, felt magical to me and they made Advent my favorite time of year.
It started with the Advent wreath, which my father made every year. It sat on our dining room table and was lit for every meal we ate there. There was an Advent calendar, with a piece of chocolate behind every door. Around the second week of Advent, my mother would put up the first decorations, usually some leftover greens from the branches used to make the wreath, perhaps with an ornament or a candle. Round about the third week, the rest of the decorations came out; and the packages from relatives arrived from overseas, big brown-paper-wrapped boxes covered in stamps. They sat in a corner, a constant invitation to imagine the wrapped gifts, marzipan and chocolate inside. The baking began the week before Christmas, as did a lot of vacuuming and records of Christmas music playing. When she had time, my mother would practice some Christmas hymns on the piano, and as I got older, so did I.
On Christmas Eve, after lunch, the tree would go up, we would decorate it, put our gifts underneath, vacuum one more time and head upstairs to get dressed in our finest clothes for the holiday. Christmas was about to begin, and finally the preparations were done.
As a queer person, when I look around the United Methodist Church, it’s tempting to see Lent – the need for confession, the hard road to the cross. But what I see is actually Advent. I see signs of the coming of Christ. We Do! Methodists Living Marriage Equality is a sign of the coming of welcome for LGBTQ people in the church, our commitment to live that welcome now. Now there are 14 other conferences who have made the same commitment in their own marriage equality initiatives. Bishop Talbert performing the wedding of Joe Openshaw and Bobby Prince. The witness of Frank Schaefer, who entered into his trial a quiet pastor acting out of love for his son but emerged from it a radical advocate for LGBTQ people. And across the UMC connection, the voices of so many lifted in response to the church prosecutor’s call to instill fear in others who minister to us, voices saying over and over they would not curtail their ministry. We Did stories every week bearing witness to the movement and our ministry…
Like the Advent preparations, it builds and builds. Every week there is something more, some additional piece of preparation for that day when the UMC finally stops persecuting LGBTQ people. We’re not there yet, but when I look around I see a church lit up with bright lights of protest, fearless ministry and bold witness. There is hope for the coming of Christ in our midst.