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Clays Mill Road Baptist Church
Independent – Fundamental – Premillennial
Preaching the Old Time Religion
Singing the Old-Fashioned Hymns of the Faith
Using only the King James Bible

The Deal

On Saturday, I made an agreement with the two young men who stood in my doorway. They would look over the book Rightly Dividing the Word of Truth: a resource for congregations in dialogue on sexual orientation. I would come to a service at Clays Mill Road Baptist Church.

I knew I had to be spiritually centered for this one. So I spent time preparing on Saturday night. I watched the new movie The Gospel of John and reflected on how Jesus prepared himself so he would not be intimidated by the Pharisees or other religious leaders of his day who were practicing exclusivity and bad religion.

I got up early Sunday morning, got ready, put on my “Gay Baptist for Justice” button and my Soulforce rainbow cross. Then I paced around for about an hour. My plan was to go to the church, find the young adults Sunday school class, and then attend the worship service. I let go of the “need” to change their minds and embraced the empowerment that would come from just standing up for my truth in the midst of a major source of oppression and misinformation.

Dean for America

I made the turn onto Clays Mill Road. It gave me strength knowing that a few more blocks up the road was the Unitarian Church. As a disciple of Christ, I like reading that Jesus was a friend of “sinners” and the tax-collectors. But let me say, the Unitarian Church is a friend of GLBT people and I thought about them being nearby as I pulled into the parking lot. There were cars snaking their way to the large parking lot in the back. No doubt the “Dean for America” bumper sticker that is smack in the middle of my car’s rear caught their attention. I parked and stepped out into the snowy wind. I walked to the rear entrance, stuck out my hand to the greeter, and said, “Good morning, good sir. Can you tell me where the young singles class is?”

I’m here, I’m queer

Gary, the greeter, led me deep into the bowels of Clays Mill Road Baptist Church. We went around a corridor, down stairs, through a hall, around another corner, until we finally reached a closed door. We had seen no one else on this walk. Gary pushed it open and voices suddenly escaped.

“Here you go,” he said and left.

I went in. There were about thirty young people. The first thing I noticed was every last guy was wearing a suit. I stood out from the start. As I was taking off my coat and sitting down, a man named Keith came over and introduced himself. After giving him my name, I explained how two young men from Clays Mill Road Baptist Church had come to my house and that I had talked with them about my concerns over their church. I told Keith I was a Baptist and a gay man. I told him about the agreement I had made with the two young men.

“Well,” he replied, “what you will see about our church is that we preach the Bible. But go ahead and have a seat and welcome to our class.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Keith then got behind the podium and started the Sunday school class. They all stood up and sang songs I didn’t know. No handouts, no hymnals, no overhead projector. Keith reminded everyone to be nice to visitors and to be Christian-like to them. He then introduced the visitors – which was just me. Then Keith gave a handout and I discovered that Sunday school at Clays Mill Road Baptist Church means no discussion and a sermon delivered in the same style as Jeff Fugate. There were even A-mens.

After the class, I talked with Keith again. I told him that he was a good public speaker but I questioned the lack of discussion. “Is there ever any discussion in this class?” I asked.

“Discussion?” he responded. “Uhh… you mean people talking about the lesson? Yeah we do that sometimes after church, but it is not like an organized thing or group discussion.”

“What about in the class?” I pressed.

“No… no, we don’t do that. Mostly because someone might have an opinion that could be contrary to the Bible and there might be someone who needed to hear the gospel preached and we don’t need to confuse them and go off subject. Cause that is what happens when you have a discussion in a Sunday school class.”

“I see,” I replied. “Well, I am glad I came to the class and I hope that your church will rethink some of the things they have said about gay people in the past.”

Keith and I then proceeded to have a conversation about homosexuality and the Bible. Their ministry to those who speak Spanish apparently uses the same room, so as they filed in, Keith and I carried the conversation up the stairs and into the sanctuary.

“God is doing a new thing,” I told him. “God is welcoming gay people to the banquet table just as we are. You need to know that.”

Keith made a face. “No, scripture is clear on homosexuality.”

“Scripture has been seen as being clear before,” I responded. “And the church has had to wrestle with that.” I brought up the brouhaha over circumcision back in the infant church.

We talked a bit more but he had to make a quick turn to go to the choir loft. I was left standing at the entrance to the sanctuary of the church.

Hey Jamie

I walked down the main aisle to the front of the church. It was smaller than I had imagined. But it was packed. Looking for a seat, I made my way back up the other middle aisle. Suddenly I hear, “Hey Jamie.”

I look down and see someone that I knew from somewhere, but I couldn’t place him. “I know you from…,” I offered.

He named the factory. Oh yes, of course. He was an operator on one of the sunroof assembly lines I had helped put in a while back.

“I didn’t know you went here,” he said with a smile.

“I don’t,” I replied.

“Oh, you’re visiting.”

I started to relay the story when the music cranked up. I walked around some more and found an open seat in the middle of a pew.

The big surprise

When it came time for the greetings, I spun around and gave a warm handshake and watched each person’s eye go straight to my button. I was feeling really empowered at this point. If they had just made the greeting time longer, I wanted to get out of my pew and give a handshake to everyone there.

We sat back down. The lady next to me looked at me and whispered the obvious. “You don’t go here often, do you?”

“No,” I said. “First time.”

“Well, we’re visitors too,” she said, making a gesture towards the guy sitting next to her. “This is our fourth time here.”

A few minutes later, she leaned over again and whispered, “I have been to other churches downtown, some that have gay and lesbians. I have gay and lesbian friends.”

“Oh really?” I replied, very much interested in this conversation and ignoring the pulpit. “Well, I’m a liberal Baptist myself and so I’m kind’a out of place here.” I gave a brief explanation of how I came to be at the service this morning.

“I think I’m more liberal myself,” she commented. “But he likes it,” she said, gesturing again towards the guy beside her.

“Well, this church has a reputation of being very anti-gay.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I can see how they probably would be. The church I went to downtown that had lots of gay people… it was nice but they didn’t seem too thrilled or spirit-filled when singing the songs. I like the spirit-filled songs.”

“Oh?” I tried to think of who she might be talking about. “Was it the MCC?” I asked.

“Yes, I think it was. The Metropolitan Community Church.”

And then she whispered, “I used to be in the lifestyle. I still very much struggle with that. But I’ve met him now.” She pointed towards the guy sitting next to her.

Can you hear me screaming?

“The liberal theologian is a liar!” pastor Jeff Fugate thundered to the applause of the congregation. “I would rather have them close down the churches that aren’t preaching the word of God and keep the liquor stores open! I got a flyer in the mail just the other day from another Baptist church in town. Well, I wouldn’t trust them with my dog!”

Suddenly he stopped and turned his attention to the front row. “Hey boys, sit up and listen now, you hear.” The youngsters bolted upright.

I said a prayer for Tammy, the lady sitting beside me. I tried several times to see if there was a wedding ring on her hand. I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally saw that there was not. But this encounter appeared to be affecting her because she had the guy’s hand gripped tightly the rest of the service. Jeff Fugate, for his part, kept up the fire and brimstone.

We are Family

When the service was over Tammy and I talked some more. You know in sit-coms where they have people talking in such a way like the person right beside them can’t hear what they are saying. My conversation with Tammy was kind of like that.

“So you’re saying you have same-sex attractions?” I asked.

“Yes, but that was long before I met him. So he doesn’t really know.”

He’s standing right there, I thought to myself.

“Well, there are bi-sexual people. I have a bi-sexual friend who is a woman who fell in love with a man and is married to him. I also have a bi-sexual friend who is a woman and fell in love with a woman and is going to marry her. Do you think you might be bi-sexual?”

“No, I don’t think I could be bi-sexual.”

“Oh, ok. But you said you have gay friends.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, could I offer you this book?” I had a copy of Rightly Dividing with me. I explained that it was the work of many Baptists on the topic of sexual orientation.

Her male friend came into the conversation at this point. We talked some more and I found out that they were not married but had been seeing each other for a while. Tammy didn’t really like Clays Mill Road Baptist Church at all - but her male friend did. He said he grew up in the Episcopal Church. He likes Jeff Fugate’s passion and sincerity. I explained why I was very concerned about this church and Tammy seemed to agree.

I gave her my Soulforce business card and she gave me a hug. Then they left.

Obi-wan has taught you well

I looked around at the nearly empty sanctuary. As I made my way to the exit of Clays Mill Road Baptist Church, there, standing in the doorway, was Pastor Jeff Fugate.

He stuck out his hand. “Thanks for coming to church this morning,” he offered.

“I’m glad I could be here. I’m one of those liberal theologians you talked about.”

He gave me a look. “Well… I hope you got your theology straightened out this morning then.”

“Not really. I also want you to know that I am a gay man. And I have concerns over some of the negative and harsh things this church has said about the gay community.”

“Not the gay community,” he replied. “About sodomy. It’s wicked.”

“Well maybe we can have a discussion about that.”

“There wouldn’t be much of a discussion. Scripture is clear”

“I think there would be discussion. Take a look at the early church and the big debate over circumcision. The Pharisees pointed to scripture and demanded that the Gentiles be circumcised as required in scripture. And if you and I lived during that time, we’d agree that the Pharisees and their allies had scripture on their side. But Peter stood up and basically said ‘Yes, that may be what scripture seems to say, but God is doing a new thing.”

“Well Sodomy is wicked and I’m glad you were here today to hear the preaching,” Fugate stated as he reached for the next person’s hand.

“God Bless you Pastor Fugate.” I said kindly as I made my way out.