The United Methodist Reporter, which, weirdly enough, is something I grew up reading in the bathroom, asked me to write some more about the ugliness of the United Methodist Publishing House building. So, I did. But it ended up being about more than that.
I feel weird about it. I told Jay, the editor, that I didn’t want to write something that fell into the dynamic of “Here’s how you’ve wronged me, Church!” where it seems like the complainer wants the church to beg them to come back, because they’ll change, they promise, they’ll change.
I don’t want to come back. But, as I get older, I find myself wanting to be at peace with the Church. As I grow stranger from it, it’s easier to see its good parts. But I am growing into a stranger from it.
Oh well, anyway, I hope it doesn’t hurt my dad’s feelings.