When I moved to St. Cloud, Minnesota I was exited to find a Reconciling in Christ Lutheran congregation of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America in the community. University Lutheran Church of the Epiphany (ULCE) had been formed with a Statement of Affirmation and Welcome as part of the congregation's charter. University Lutheran openly welcomed and affirmed all people to their worship, including gay and lesbian people. As a gay man who had spent his lifetime serving God's people within the Church and the World both, I had to keep my sexual orientation a secret from the members of the church community, fearing that they would no longer welcome me. That barrier was the secret that I could not share. God knew my secret. I had been created a homosexual by God. Yet, God's people would preach from the pulpit about the sin of homosexuality, and condemn all homosexual people to hell. Why would I wan to share my secret with my pastors and my fellow Christians, knowing that in their eyes I would be less worthy of God's grace than them?

When I worshipped at a Reconciling in Christ congregation for the first time, I felt a flood of emotions come over me. For the first time I could listen to the Absolution of Sins, knowing that the pastor was not absolving me of the sin of homosexuality. I wanted to celebrate my homosexuality and thank God for it, not be forgiven for it. As the pastor prepared the Eucharist I realized for the first time I was fully communing with God's people, receiving the Body and Blood of Christ as a whole human, not a flawed human. I too was worthy to receive the Sacrament of the Eucharist.

When I returned to worship in my home congregation with my parents, the acceptance of the Reconciling in Christ congregation traveled with me. Even though I had to "go back in the closet" when I went back to visit my parents and worship with them in my home congregation, I carried with me the acceptance and grace that the Reconciling in Christ congregation blessed me when I worshipped with them. This acceptance and grace gave me the strength to return to the closet in order to worship the God I love with the people I love, my parents. As I went forward to receive the Eucharist with my parents and knelt at the altar rail, I knew the Reconciliation I felt from University Lutheran was there at the altar of my home church also.

When I attended the past two Southwestern Minnesota Synod Assemblies I had to "return to the closet". Even though University Lutheran Church of the Epiphany was a Reconciling in Christ congregation, the SWMN Synod was not. There was no safe place for a gay man at the Assembly of hundreds of Christians, except sitting next to my pastors and the other delegates from our congregation. This past spring I decided that I would not attend another Assembly. The return to the closet was not enjoyable. Pastor Darius approached me and asked me if I would attend the Assembly again as a delegate. I responded that perhaps he should see if someone else wanted to go since I had went the past two years. He stated that the theme this year was "Many Voices…One Song". When I heard that I realized that my "voice" as a gay man would be needed there, whether it was welcome or not. I knew that a few church officials would welcome my voice, including the Bishop of the SWMN Synod. A few months before the Bishop and his wife had "come out of the closet" as the parents of a lesbian young woman. He had written a very supportive and accepting letter of reconciliation in the Synod's newsletter encouraging conversation among the Church about the treatment and role of homosexuals in the congregations of the Southwestern Minnesota Synod. This position of support by the Bishop gave me the strength to attend the SWMN Assembly for the first time as the person God made me, a gay man. I was doubly encouraged when the Synod Council approved my request to have a booth of information about Homosexuality and the Church and the Reconciling in Christ Program.

As I stood behind the table of pamphlets, books, posters and videos I watched people walk by looking at the materials. Sometimes they would walk away quickly, showing their discomfort of the topic the materials addressed. Sometimes they would read the titles and stay, not ready to talk unless I started the conversation. I sensed they wanted to talk but didn't know how to have a conversation about this topic. Other people realized that I was a "safe person" and they had a story to tell or questions to ask. Even though I was a stranger, they felt safe to tell me about their gay nephew or lesbian granddaughter. They could not talk about this with their own neighbors or fellow church members for fear of judgement. Some came up and were openly excited that the voice and presence of a gay person was there.

I listened to an elderly man tell the story about his nephew who told his parents that he was gay when he was 18 years old. The father kicked the gay son out of the house and would not have anything to do with him ever again. Now, thirty years later, after the father had died, this "prodigal gay son" was able to come back home and see his mother, who is suffering from a terminal illness with less than a year to live.

I listened to the grandmother whose granddaughter would attend church with her when she visited. But now that her granddaughter was out of the closet as a lesbian, the grandmother wondered what she could do to help her church be more open and affirming so her lesbian granddaughter would continue to feel comfortable in attending church with her grandmother.

It was important for many reasons that my voice, the voice of a gay man, was one of the "many voices that would sing the same song" at the Assembly this year. My voice was able to begin conversations with God's people by representing the broad spectrum of accepting and celebrating inclusivity. Yes, I also heard the voices of judgement, that were condemning me because of my sexual orientation. They reminded me that the Bible says homosexuality is a sin. I was not ready to enter into a theological discussion of the various interpretations of scripture and the role of those interpretations. It took me many years of study and discussion to resolve the flawed teachings of well-meaning Sunday School teachers and pastors before I was able to reach the conclusion that Dos made me as I am, a homosexual man, and I am worthy of His Grace and Love. I certainly could not expect this person standing across from me at the Lutherans Concerned booth to change his or her mind right there. My response to the person who was before me needed to be a response from Christ, a response of my love and acceptance, not my judgement and condemnation. Perhaps later they would reflect back to our conversation and thing about the scriptures that people use to support hate and fear of someone who is different that them.

As I reflect back on the weekend of the Assembly, I am more thankful than ever for the congregation and pastors of University Lutheran Church of the Epiphany, a Reconciling in Christ congregation. Because of their willingness to be Christ, live Christ, and celebrate Christ as they respond to social injustice and hate in our Society and Church, I knew that I could stand there at the Assembly, one of many voices, singing the same song, the song of love and acceptance.