Today marks the fourth anniversary of my resignation from a church I loved and served for more than two decades. I resigned because I chose to officiate the wedding of two very dear friends of mine, both women. This choice, made after months of wrestling, placed me at odds with church leadership.

Each year on this day, I have made a point of remembering publicly why I left. Not because I want to remain tethered to that painful chapter of my life, but because I believe the reasons for my departure still matter.

For me, this has never been merely a theological debate about homosexuality. It has always been about real people—our friends, neighbors, children, siblings, and fellow human beings. People with names and faces and stories. People who are loved by God.

In previous years, I've marked this anniversary by reposting a short piece I wrote called Why I Left.

But recently, while pulling a book from my bookshelf, a letter slipped out from between its pages. It was a letter I had written to the board of elders at my former church, before the events that ultimately led to my resignation.

As I reread it, I was struck by how much hope I still held when I wrote those words. Hope for understanding. Hope for a different way forward. Hope for a church I dearly loved.

And I found myself wanting to share it.

Four years later, my deepest prayer remains that the American evangelical church will come to recognize the pain it has caused—and continues to cause—in the lives of people Jesus loves without exception.

I offer this letter in that spirit.

I have removed the name of the church involved, but have kept the names of the two women whose wedding I officiated, with their permission, of course.

This is what I wrote:

I have loved and followed Jesus for 42 years.

I love this church and our mission and my 23 years of living into my teaching gift to serve the people here.

I love next generations and want them to know and follow Jesus.

You guys are my friends.

I am not asking our church to change any policy or theological position or current definition of marriage. I am in no way trying to “win” any kind of argument or battle.

My decision to officiate Ally and Calli’s wedding is first and foremost grounded in relationship. In the midst of getting to know Ally and Calli, learning about their faith, their love for Jesus, for others, for this church, I learned that they also love each other.

Ally and Calli are deeply loved children of God, they are not “an issue” to me. They have both loved Jesus for a long time, came up through our college ministry, serve selflessly in their jobs, in this community, and have a rich, Christ-centered faith. They love our church and are surrounded by lots of supportive Christian friends who call this church home, too.

When they asked me to officiate their wedding I did not immediately give them an answer. I explained to them what this would mean for me, and for the church I love. I told them I needed time to pray and have some very serious conversations with both my trusted friends/colleagues and God.

After months of prayer and wrestling, I have chosen to officiate Ally and Calli’s wedding out of love for, and obedience to, Jesus.

For decades I have immersed myself in the Scriptures. In the Gospels I see Jesus reach out in love and compassion and with open arms to all kinds of folk his religious world deemed unclean, unworthy and unwelcome. I do not think we can fully comprehend how scandalous this was in his day.

Jesus broke the Sabbath law to heal people. He broke Levitical cleanliness codes to touch people, to eat with people, to love people. He did this over and over again. And he did it intentionally. As his followers, we are to follow in his ways, right?

I have grounded my decision to officiate this wedding in a deep study of the Scriptures, not just the specific Scriptures that appear to be related to the topic, but also the sweep of Scripture’s overarching narrative toward greater and greater inclusion; the idea of building bigger tables so that everyone who wants to can have table fellowship with Jesus.

I have also dug deep into the most common passages used to justify denial of marriage vows (and other things) to our LGBTQ+ friends. I now have a different understanding of these passages than I did thirty years ago, just as I have a different understanding of passages about divorce and about women leading and teaching in the church. This study, prayer, learning, struggle, wrestling, listening and concern for the next generation(s) of Christians is what guided my decision.

Studies have shown that young people are either leaving the church or not entering our doors at all in no small part due to the way the church treats their LGBTQ+ friends and family members. A larger and larger percentage of next generations are allies. They are leaving the church because they see their friends being marginalized and hurt.

This data forced me to take a hard look at our practices. It forced me to see that for many young folks, this exclusion is a hurdle to them wanting to follow Jesus or be a part of the church. This brings me so much pain.

I feel led, called and convicted by the Spirit to officiate this wedding, even as I understand this decision to be in direct contrast to the policy of the Board. This brings me great anguish and is not undertaken lightly.

My deepest prayer and hope is that we can find a “third way” here. I am also banking on the hope that we can put into practice the concept we have been preaching and teaching for years - that that this church is a “big tent church” where everyone truly is welcome!

I am available at any time for further conversation.

With all my sincere love for Christ and the church,

Alice

Photo by Marcel Strauß on Unsplash