On my way to Bothell United Methodist Church, I thought I knew what I’d be writing. It was all so neat and tidy in my mind.
Before driving into the parking lot to find a bona fide media circus Tuesday, I had it figured out — what I thought about gay marriage, the rules of churches, all of it.
This week, the church next to Bothell High School is ground zero in the battle for gay rights. The debate has heated up in the secular world with court rulings and decisions by governments from Portland, Ore., to San Francisco allowing same-sex marriage.
In the spiritual world, the church trial that began Tuesday in Bothell is expected to decide whether the Rev. Karen Dammann, pastor of a United Methodist church in Ellensburg, can keep her position despite her openly gay relationship with Meredith Savage. The couple have a 5-year-old son and were recently married in Portland.
Thirteen Methodist clergy members make up the jury that will decide the case based on their interpretation of the United Methodist Book of Discipline, the church law.
Do you want to know what I think? Or at least what I did think until I was persuaded to think a little harder.
I think many people miss the distinction between legal marriage and marriage recognized by a church.
Gay couples should have equal rights to legal marriage, all across this country, that’s what I think. I don’t mean some separate-but-equal, use-the-other-drinking-fountain version called civil union. I mean marriage, with all its legal ramifications, from Social Security benefits to federal income tax breaks.
That said, I also think every church has the right to its rules.
We don’t have equal rights in churches. No one should try to force churches to change in ways that defy their core beliefs.
I can’t become a Roman Catholic priest. If I don’t like that, I can remain a Catholic and hope the church will evolve, or I can exercise religious freedom and find a church that allows ordination of women. The same goes for issues of divorce, reproduction, or allowing gay clergy or gay unions.
It’s separation of church and state. I truly don’t see how anyone’s legal marriage has any effect on the sanctity of anyone else’s marriage. Sanctity is a word that has to do with religion, holiness, a deity — God.
Legal marriage has nothing to do with God. It has to do with government, which ought to treat all people as equal. But churches have their rules.
From what I’ve read, Dammann is clearly outside the rules of her church. Those rules say "the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching" and that self-avowed practicing homosexuals are not to be ordained as ministers in the United Methodist Church.
That’s what I thought I was going to write.
Outside Bothell United Methodist Church, I met the Rev. Mark Williams. He is scheduled as a witness in the trial, in which Dammann could lose her ministry if nine jurors vote for conviction.
Williams, pastor at Woodland Park United Methodist Church in Seattle, said church rules change.
"Our prohibition against gay clergy only dates to 1972, when the church began to adopt statements on homosexuality. We change something about our church law every four years," he said. "That’s not to turn its back on tradition, but the church does change with new social understanding."
Williams’ church is among several United Methodist churches in the area known as a reconciling congregation. The grass-roots Reconciling Ministries Network works for full participation in the United Methodist Church by of people any sexual orientation or gender.
In what Williams called a "reforming" church, "people can form their own opinions and use what God gave us to discern matters of faith." Beyond Scripture, there is reason, tradition and experience.
"We’re not a dogmatic church," he said. "Within our principles, we can disagree and be great Methodists."
Unlike protesters who tried to stop the trial, Williams doesn’t see the process as negative. It was Dammann’s wish that she be tried and that the trial be public.
"It sounds very Spanish Inquisition, but this is a sign the church is struggling and remaining relevant," Williams said.
I thought it was all so neat and tidy. Williams offered more to think about.
Thirsty after leaving the church, I stopped for a bottle of water. There was music playing in the Bothell minimart. I swear, it was Joan Osborne singing:
"What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us, just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home."
Columnist Julie Muhlstein: 425-339-3460 or
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