We love to treat the church like it’s a cozy sanctuary where we can hide from the world, but let’s be honest. It’s actually more like a micro-society.

And like any society, it only works if we stop treating supporting each other like an optional side quest we only embark on when it’s convenient or personally beneficial.

It is remarkably easy to sit in an annual meeting, sip our fair-trade coffee, and vote for high-minded inclusive language.

However, in my home congregation lately, it is apparently a Herculean task for some folks to maintain that same “all are welcome” energy when our values actually show up in person, especially when they show up wearing five-inch, thigh high red heels or carrying a set of pronouns that aren’t s/he. [insert eye roll here]

We stand in the pews and sing that we are a gentle, angry people and that we are singing, singing for our lives….but are we? Are we really?

It’s a great song.

One of my favorites.

In fact, I almost, ALMOST, picked it to sing last Sunday when I was leading hmyns.

But then I thought better of it.

Frankly, I didn’t pick it because right now, the lyrics are kind of pissing me off.

I didn’t pick it because lately, it feels like the ‘gentle’ part is being misinterpreted by a subset of people as a polite mask for passivity, and the ‘angry’ part is so loud and obnoxious that people are picking apart email typos and policing people’s wardrobes and their words in the pulpit.

If we are truly a justice-seeking people, we have to realize that justice isn’t just some big, nebulous manifesto….it’s accepting and including the person standing right in front of us.

We are supposed to be young and old together, we are supposed to be a land of many colors, and we are supposed to be trans and cis together—all of us singing for our lives.

But in my own congregation, just like in wider society, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to sing together when the bare minimum expectations of our own community are in the damn toilet, and people’s money and participation are being used as a mute button for anyone who doesn’t fit their version of a standard mold.

It is time for a reality check on what qualifies as “revolutionary” behavior.

Y’all.

We don’t get participation trophies for being decent fucking human beings.

Using someone’s correct pronouns does not earn you a gold star or a seat at the table of the Great Reformers.

It’s the literal floor of human decency.

It is basic literacy and respect.

The same goes for not having a minor existential crisis when someone walks in sporting a look that doesn’t involve a sensible sweater and sneakers.

Accepting gender non-conforming fashion isn’t a radical act of grace; it’s just the lowest of low bar baselines for being a person who isn’t a judgmental jerk.

If we are still patting ourselves on the back for not even doing the bare minimum, we’re essentially celebrating our ability to tie our own shoes while the church is literally on fire.

The bar is so low it’s underground, and we are still missing it.

Then there is the particularly infuriating trend of what I’ve come to call “checkbook governance” in UU circles.

Let’s face it.

Unitarian Universalism has a classism issue that I don’t think most UU’s are ready to address.

There are a lot of old, white, financially secure, cisgender UUs out there.

It’s just the way it is.

And sadly, it’s often that group whose values shape the dominant culture of a congregation.

Money talks, and the reality is that those with money often have more influence than those who don’t.

The church isn’t exempt from that reality.

I see it in my own congregation.

There is currently a group withholding or weaponizing their financial support to try to get what they want, and one thing they’re taking issue with is the fact that they don’t want to be known as the ‘gay church’.

That’s a bunch of bullshit.

And it’s antithetical to our values on SO many levels.

Unitarian Universalism isn’t meant to be a transactional faith.

Threatening to pull a pledge or “reconsider” a donation because the congregation is actually following through on its promises to the LGBTQ+ community is both classist and transphobic.

It is the height of privilege to believe that a person’s financial contribution buys them the right to curate the pews or dictate who is “worthy” of the chancel. When we use money as a leash to pull the congregation back from its values, we aren’t “protecting the church”—we are sabotaging our covenant.

Period.

Yeah. I went there. With my whole chest. And I’ll say it again:

It is DISGUSTINGLY PRIVELEGED to believe that a person’s financial contribution buys them the right to curate the pews or dictate who is “worthy” of the chancel. When we use money as a leash to pull the congregation back from its values, we aren’t “protecting the church”—we are sabotaging our covenant.

Two years ago at General Assembly, we as a denomination didn’t just suggest that we might be okay with trans people; we voted OVERWHELMINGLY to make affirming and celebrating trans lives a central part of our faith.

This isn’t a “wait and see” situation, or a topic for a polite five-year study.

It is a central tenet.

And that means supporting BIPOC, trans, nonbinary and gender non-conforming worship associates AND minsters.

If you’re using your checkbook to stand in opposition to that denominational tenant, you are acting in direct opposition to the very faith you claim to support.

True inclusion isn’t a spectator sport where you watch from the back and nod approvingly as long as nobody “makes a scene.”

We are talking about INCLUSION here. NOT just tolerance.

If we are perfectly fine with trans and non-binary folks stacking chairs or scrubbing pots after a potluck, but decide to clutch our pearls when it’s time for a drag queen to collect the offering or a non-binary minister to lead worship, we are being hypocrites.

Plain and simple.

The front of the room shouldn’t be a restricted VIP lounge for people who make the most conservative members feel “comfortable.”

We are Unitarian Universalists.

It’s a bold, demanding brand to claim, so maybe it’s time we started acting like we actually believe it.

That means showing up for one another both inside our walls and out in the real world, where the stakes are actually high and the lighting is significantly less flattering.

Let’s stop talking about the ‘theory’ of inclusion and start practicing the reality of radical belonging.

We are singing for our lives, after all.

It would be nice if we actually meant it.