The responses from the congregation then and since then have been varied, but generally fall into recognizable categories. Concerned, involved heterosexuals expressed feelings such as these:

We need to become a Welcoming Congregation - there are a lot of gays, lesbians, and bi's who would be a great addition to our church, who would be able to help us in so many ways.

I enjoy coming to this church, to its various programs and opportunities - I had a great time raking leaves last fall when so many of us pitched in - but I can't turn off my sexuality just because it offends people. I am what I am, same as them. Isn't there some way we can work together?

I came, and I thought you had some great programs, but there was nothing which spoke to me. I heard a lot of straight-type talk, you know, husband and wife and two point five kids. My partner and I just felt out of place, even shunned sometimes. I don't need that aggravation in my life. I doubt I'll be back.

We can't be everything to everybody - if we go out of our way to encourage homosexuals to come, we'll be discriminating against everyone else. We don't want to scare off normal people. If gays want to come, let them, but don't rub our noses in their alternate lifestyles.

I don't know what these people want from us. We make everyone welcome here. I spoke with that woman with the short haircut at coffee hour a few times, and she seemed nice enough. We've even had a gay man on a couple of our committees, but he never seemed to get involved. How big an effort do they expect us to make? Anyway, they don't even come here any more, so why are we still working on this?

Thus, Mixed Company was formed by our Board of Trustees. The charge of the committee was, quote, to explore and promote inclusiveness, especially as such inclusiveness relates to individuals who are other than completely heterosexual. The Committee will, as well, explore in detail the concept of our church becoming a Welcoming Congregation (endquote). It's worth pointing out that this charter does not say that we WILL become a Welcoming Congregation, just that we will explore the concept. The attitude of the committee, however, was always one of working toward certification as a Welcoming Congregation.

So we met, and we talked, and we planned. There were about 20 of us in all, including Harold Dean, Susan Archer, and Fred Hertrich. However, few of us made it to more than one or two meetings. We were all involved in so many other projects - fundraising, building expansion, social action, TLC, and the general operation of the church - that Mixed Company got the short end of the stick. It was the standard Catch-22 of any new business: we had no product to sell, so nobody bought, so we couldn't create a product. Our meetings got smaller, shorter, and less frequent.

We were not completely inactive, though. Does anybody know how many programs we produced? Hands up? The answer is: one. Does anybody know what that program was? It's okay if you don't, it was not well-publicized or well-attended. We had a showing of the film Torch Song Trilogy here. By the way, I highly recommend it to you if you haven't seen it. As I recall, there were seven people here, including Harold Dean and three committee members.

While preparing this morning's talk, I discussed these issues with Susan Archer. She said, quite rightly, that we in this congregation tend to be too hard on ourselves and too hard on each other. It would have been easy to stand here and blame all of you for not working harder at this latest Good Cause. It would've been equally easy to blame myself, although not necessarily at the same time as blaming all of you. And yet, as much as inaction aggravates me, whether it's you or me who is being inactive, I don't see the need for any finger-pointing. Perhaps we can make do with a slight sense of collective guilt.

One issue which Mixed Company dealt with early on was that of inclusive language. It's all too easy, even in this age and environment of second marriages, adopted children, and otherwise extended families, to assume that everyone's ideal family starts with a husband and a wife, and this assumption often shapes our language in the same way that years of male dominance makes our pronouns largely 'him' and 'his'. Harold was very willing to agree to actively ensure that his services avoided heterosexual assumptions, and we were similarly encouraged by the Program Committee. However, it seems as though the issue rarely came up; as far as I can tell, Harold doesn't make general husband-and-wife statements, and not having regular readings from the Bible means we avoid hearing about wives cleaving unto their husbands. Or am I too mired in my own heterosexuality to see that which is irritating or offensive to homosexuals?

It seems that a standard goal of this sort of consciousness-raising is to discard all of these labels which we put on people, labels such as the ones I used earlier: Buddhist, divorcee, long-haired hippie. Obviously, we should also discard the label which says lesbian or gay. Labels are for file folders, and you just can't put a person into a file folder. However, I think there are good and bad types of labels. The good ones come in a variety of sizes, none of which cover the entire person. The good labels are written in the person's own handwriting. I'm proud to wear this long-haired label which says Free-Thinker. There is also a much smaller label on me which says Traditionalist. You can't take off the label on me which says Straight, and you can't take off someone else's label which says Gay. Just be sure that you read more than the first label you see.

When preparing our service in 1990, I received a call from a member of our congregation, a woman who has been a member for many years, who was annoyed that we should expend all this time and energy on 'these people'. "After all," she said, "they're just special-interest groups, a bunch of whiners trying to monopolize our services. And besides," she went on, "it's just a sickness anyway, why don't these people try to get some psychiatric help?" It felt like talking to Emily Latella, the woman on Saturday Night Live: What's all this fuss about horny sexuals?

In thinking about this issue, about inclusiveness and openness and being welcoming, it's also important to think a little bit beyond this room, to think of those just down the hall. We spend considerable time and energy to raise whole and healthy children, and it is disconcerning to think of this congregation as one which does not more openly affirm people of all lifestyles. Statistically and historically, the children in our Religious Education programs have included and will continue to include gays, straights, and bisexuals. It is vitally important to the emotional health of our children that we form a community which is truly accepting, both of our own sexuality and that of our neighbor's. As with every lesson we teach, we cannot merely tell them "do as I say, not as I do."

But what about the feeling which I gather is fairly wide-spread, or at least widely vocalized by those I refer to as dubious heterosexuals: Why are we still working on this? Those People (always "those people") don't even come here any more; if they're not here, what does our acting welcoming do?

As a performing musician, I have played several concerts and festivals which have been accompanied by a sign-language interpreter for the deaf or hard-of-hearing. As a side note, let me say that it can be truly fascinating to watch someone sign your words as you're singing them. There has never, as far as I know, been a poll of the audience taken: "Are there any deaf people out there?" There may well have been none, but the organizers of the event saw the need and wanted to let the audience and thus the community know that all were welcome, including the hearing-impaired.

I'm sure that many of you are aware of the regulations imposed by the Federal and other governments requiring wheelchair access. I'm sure you're also aware of the hardship this imposes on builders and all, but I hope that you're also aware of what a difference these regulations have made in so many people's lives - people who were otherwise unable to spend the day shopping in stores, eating at restaurants, and going to movies, people who were unable to have their day in court because they couldn't get in the court house.

If you build it, they will come. I saw the movie Field of Dreams, in which the hero listened to the voice in his head saying "If you build it, they will come," so he built a baseball park, and the ghosts of the baseball greats came. I thought that it was hokey and simplistic. It's still a great story, though; lots of movies are hokey and simplistic, but still contain truths which can affect our lives. If you sign-interpret, they will come. If you build a wheelchair ramp, they will come. If you build it, they will come. We are undertaking the expansion of our building based on this principle: If you build a larger meeting hall, the people to fill it and pay for it will come.

I'm here to tell you, if you build a welcoming congregation, they will come, and we'll all be better for their presence.

whb@haus.org
welcoming.html, Last modified 26 Sep 1999