Weeping Willow Part 18 The Big Chula Vista Sermon by **Sigh** Copyright© 2019 plaintivesigh All Rights Reserved.

“Now, we have a person in this congregation who identifies as a woman though she was born male. I have met with her, and told her the traditional view I stated above. She chose to not follow that tradition, and continues to present herself as a female.”

She shook her head emphatically. “No! I want to hear where he goes with this.”

The next Sunday, the Eiken family walked into the foyer of Chula Vista Episcopalian Church a little earlier than usual.

“Bye, Momma. I’m going up to sit with Bernard,” Willow said as she turned to the stairs.

“Wait, Willow. Today I need all of us to sit in the main service on a ground floor pew. Mal, Angie; you’re to stay here too. All the family together. Father Wilson has a special message that involves us,” warned Gwen.

“But Bern-“

“I told him; he’s given the sound board to someone else, and he’ll sit with us – by you, of course. Here we go – everybody scoot into this pew, but make sure we keep bunched to the aisle side.”

“Why the back row? We never sit here,” asked Angie.

“In case we need to leave quickly. I’m not sure what he’s going to say,” shushed Gwen.

“Hey guys,” said a baritone voice.

“Bern!! Come sit by me!” smiled Willow. “Do you know what’s about to happen?”

“Nope – but I’ve got a feeling it might not be good,” Bern whispered.

The service proceeded normally, with hymns, recitations, a choir performance, and the introduction of a new charity service the church was partnering with. Then Father Wilson took to the podium to deliver his sermon.

“Good morning, brothers and sisters in Christ. Today, I will speak on some sensitive issues involving our church. This talk will make reference to sexual topics. There are rumors going around, and some people are getting unhappy. If any of you got past the ushers and have young children in the sanctuary here, I suggest you allow them to go to the children’s church wing – now, please.”

The Father paused as any remaining children left the main worship area.

“Most all of you know that over ten years ago this particular congregation – along with many others scattered throughout the country - decided to intentionally break away from the Episcopalian leadership in the USA. It was over the subject of homosexuality; the national leadership decided it was not a sin, and began to endorse and perform gay marriages as well as induct practicing gay ministers into their churches.

“Our official stance here at Chula Vista was that being gay is a choice people make, a lifestyle choice; and that the Holy Bible condemns the gay lifestyle. This is the conclusion our elders and ministers, including myself, came to at that time.

“The scriptures are not as clear regarding intersex/transsexual people. In general, we believe that if God assigned you a clear male or female genitals at birth, then that is the identity you should live as. This belief is more based on tradition than actual bible verse.

“Now, we have a person in this congregation who identifies as a woman though she was born male. I have met with her, and told her the traditional view I stated above. She chose to not follow that tradition, and continues to present herself as a female.”

Willow’s blood froze as she noticed several members of the congregation turn and look at her – some with smiles, but more with frowns. Sam Fredricks – the man who had grabbed her arm weeks ago when she first presented as female to church – was one of the frowners.

“Let’s split, babe,” Bernard whispered as he grasped her hand.

“Willow – go. We’ll stay here and handle any flack the haters give us,” her Poppa breathed into her ear.

She shook her head emphatically. “No! I want to hear where he goes with this.”

“Ahem. I need all eyes on me, please,” Father Wilson boomed with a deep bass voice. Everyone turned back to the front, except one. “You too, Sam. Please,” urged the minister. Mr. Fredricks promptly turned back to face the front, face now pink with embarrassment.

The minister resumed his sermon. “I have been approached by some members of this body who demand that I expel this person from the church; they have threatened to leave and to take their substantial church monetary support with them if I fail to meet their demands. So you can see I have a dilemma here.”

The Father took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes; he then replaced them and peered at the congregation. “I have devoted more study and prayer to this topic, and this crisis, than any other situation in the last 10 years. I believe I have heard from the Lord in my meditation and scripture reading. So please listen closely, now.

“Is being transgender a sin? What about being gay, bi or lesbian? Here’s the answer …

“It shouldn’t matter.”

A number of jaws in the audience dropped open.

“It shouldn’t matter to you because scripture tells us that it is the Holy Spirit’s job alone to bring about conviction and repentance in a person’s heart. It is not your job!

“It shouldn’t matter to you because it is God the Father’s job alone to judge. Would you suggest that you’re better suited for that task than He? No! It’s not your job!

“It shouldn’t matter to you because every one of us here today is a sinner. I doubt anyone can live a full day without committing a sin – at least a white lie, or a mild curse, or a fleeting impure thought. An extra dinner roll you really didn’t need. Lying, cursing, lust and gluttony are sins that will absolutely send you to hell just as sure as murder or sexual sin. All of them require God’s forgiveness. All of them!

“I hear some of you thinking ‘yes, but I don’t flaunt my sin in public’. When you walk in to church severely overweight for the past decade – is that flaunting it? When you actually make eye contact with the girl you’ve been ogling, and lick your lips?

“Some are also thinking ‘Sexual sin is especially bad; it’s called an abomination in the Bible.’ Well, holding resentment in your heart towards anyone – while you seek forgiveness from God for your own misdeeds – that’s an abomination too! And I can guarantee we’ve all done that at some time.

“I’m telling you that we ALL fall short of the glory and righteousness of God. We ALL need His love and forgiveness on a daily basis.”

“So what is our job towards other sinners then? It is this: to love them. And not from a distance. We are to embrace them, encourage them, show kindness, Love them in spite of sin, in spite of any disagreement you have with them. After all, they will have to overlook your sins if they are to love you back!

“Jesus Christ is more than our savior; He’s our example for living. How did he deal with sinners, and outcasts from society? Did he expel them from his midst? Did he demand they repent before he lowered himself to interact with them?”

The minister paused for effect.

“NO HE DID NOT. Instead, he talked with them; walked with them; ate and drank with them, and visited them in their houses and in the bad areas of town. He fed them and healed them. And he loved them as they were. To Jesus, the gospel – the good news he carried – was for them especially. His hours spent with the so-called dregs of society caused a scandal among the religious folks of that time.

“So am I living like Jesus did? I asked myself that question this week. The answer I came to was an emphatic NO. I have allowed myself to get so caught up in the workings of the church and squabbles between staff and members, that I’ve neglected the most important things: caring for the unloved, reaching out to the outcasts, feeding the hungry, healing the sick hearts. When I saw what I had become, I was shocked to my toes - and then, filled with shame.

I have been a hyper-religious Pharisee. Jesus called Pharisees snakes, vipers, arrogant, blind, self-indulgent hypocrites; white-washed tombs, pretty and clean on the outside and full of death inside. These are the only people in the Bible that Jesus was verbally mean to. He warned that they were more in danger of hellfire than the outcasts he met with! I realized this week that I had become one of them. It caused me to immediately fall on my face and weep.

"I then prayed to the Lord with more emotion and desperation than I have in two decades. I begged his forgiveness, and asked him to change my heart inside out. And now, my flock, I ask you the same thing. I have been wrong. I have worried more about offending our donors than ministering God's love. I beg you all, from the bottom of my heart - please forgive me."

The priest then turned away as he brought a handkerchief to his eyes and blotted them. He gently blew his nose. Finally, sniffing, he turned to the podium again.

"When this church started we wanted everyone to come to worship, no matter their beliefs or spiritual state. All would get Jesus’ love with no exclusion. Yet what has happened is that I see many of us wanting to exclude the “LGBT” people from church. It’s almost as if we feel that they are evil, and more than that: contagious. There is almost an attitude that this place – this house of worship – should be a comfortable social gathering, a country club where we can all huddle together with others who feel the way we do. I see this attitude in more and more of us each year. God forgive me, I allowed it to happen.

"So, here’s the big announcement: I’m disbanding the chummy country club. It’s time for this church to be a hospital. I need all of you to cancel your galas and tee times; instead, become nurses to help the Great Physician with his work.

“We will welcome all patients – people abused, rejected, addicted, homeless. People we don’t agree with. They may be unpleasant to some of us. Others may not smell too good. But we will be a refuge, a place of healing, to all. And as we minister to them, we will find our hearts and lives transformed for the better. Many of us who think we’re spiritually healthy may find that we have a serious heart condition called Judgement-itis. Don’t worry; Dr. Jesus can heal that too, and you’re in the right place – his hospital.

“Please hear what I’m about to say now with an open heart and open mind. I … I am not prepared to say that homosexuality and transsexuality are not sins. For now we will still not actively promote the practice of these conditions. But we will no longer reject nor condemn LGBT people. We will embrace them and love them. Talk to ... listen to … and care for them. They will be accepted to attend all church functions if they desire.

“If any here feel that they cannot continue as members here after hearing what I’ve said, well … I cannot physically stop you from leaving. You will be missed; more than that, you will miss out – on things Jesus wants to do in your heart, with your life.

“And to our trans member, I say: you are welcome here. Please feel free to continue to attend Chula Vista, and teach us how to show love to you and others like you. I humbly ask your forgiveness for treating you with disdain on our first few visits.”

“I forgive you, Father,” came a voice from the back of the sanctuary.

Most of the congregation looked to the back row to see what appeared to be a short teen female tastefully dressed in a blue dress with lace adornments. She was standing, beaming a wide grin, and – true to her nickname – weeping.

“Thank you, my child,” replied Father Wilson, with a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Flock; over the next four Sundays, I will outline how we shall put our spiritual hospital into actual practice. I request your patience and attendance as I do so. For now, let’s all rise for the closing recitations and prayer.”

The church did so. Gwen Eiken ran to the podium as soon as the last “amen” was said.

“Let us take you out to lunch, Father.”

“Thank you, Gwen, but I need to go home and lie down. I may not look it, but I’m so emotionally exhausted. Rest is what I need now. Maybe next Sunday?”

“Absolutely,” gushed Willow’s Momma; she gave him a quick hug and went back to her family.

The Eikens went out for lunch that Sunday anyway, to the Olive Garden. Bernard came along.

“So, I have mixed feelings,” Bern garbled as he chewed his linguini. “He said the church would accept you, but still says that being trans might be a sin. Are you really happy with that, babe?”

“Yeah … yeah, I am for now,” his girl said, nibbling on a piece of salad. “It’s such an improvement from his previous stance. The Rev’s mind is opening; I think his heart is changing. Hopefully much of the congregation will start to do so too. If God is using me – even in a small way – to help do that, then I don’t dare leave our church now.”

“Daughter, do you realize what you’ve done?” said Gwen. “With your love and courage, and your support of Toby/Amanda, you’ve changed the heart of your minister and the direction of our church! For the better! I’m just amazed with you.”

“As am I,” William agreed. “As am I. So – are we all still happy with Chula Vista as our church, then?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather worship at,” replied Willow.

Seven months later.

It was now June. Willow had finished her junior year of high school with exemplary grades, earning her the right to a summer junior internship with a stock brokerage. One of her first assignments was to help host an evening cocktail hour with some of the firm’s bigger clients. She walked around making sure the hors d’ oeuvres were circulating well; she was still way too underage to handle alcohol, even just transporting it to others. Dressed in a grey dress jacket with a business skirt, she walked the floor as the adults gabbed, ate, drank and laughed.

“DAMMIT!”

Willow whirled around to see where the oath came from. A tall man in a sports jacket stood holding his right arm away from his body; deep red liquid dripped from his coat sleeve.

“Oopsh. Sorr – ah, sorry;” said an inebriated fellow who stood to the right of the curser, holding a nearly empty glass of red wine. He wavered back and forth over his heels, obviously more than a few drinks over the line.

“Whoa there, sir,” Willow said to the drunk one, grabbing his lapel to stabilize him. “Jenny!” she quipped to one of her fellow interns, “Come help this gentleman to the lobby; I think he’ll need a cab ride home.” She then turned to the tall one. “I’m sorry that happened, sir. Shall I take your jacket and work on it before the stain sets?”

“Sure,” he mumbled. “You know how to deal with that, huh?”

“I’ve dealt with a grape juice stain before; it’s probably pretty similar. My Momma taught me,” she smiled, slipping his jacket off and running to the kitchen.

Minutes later she returned.

“Wow. It looks mostly gone – only a faint residue left,” he marveled.

“Club soda, and a little hydrogen peroxide. I’d still get it dry cleaned tomorrow if I were you. Tell them about the wine spill.”

“Thanks again, little lady. This was about to be my worst day of this month before you came along. My car gave out on the way over here, and then I get splashed with Merlot.”

“Your car?” Willow hoped that being a listening ear would improve this client’s mood and help the firm’s relationship with him.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “European import. The engine’s been dying on me lately, and no one can figure it out. That’s pretty embarrassing to admit, with my business and all.”

“How so?”

“I’m Sam Tarpley, of Tarpley Auto Repair centers. Currently have 32 shops scattered around New Mexico and Texas. And my best three repairmen can’t figure this out. I need a car whisperer, some kind of automotive savant.”

“Um … Sir, my fiancé is a car whisperer – that’s what they call him at the repair shop he works at. I’d love to ask him to take a crack at your ride.”

“Hmph. Because you saved my favorite jacket, I’ll allow it. If he can fix it, I’ll buy you guys a gift certificate for Montague’s Steak House.”

“Or maybe a position with your company with potential for advancement?” Willow cooed, batting her eyes.

“Hmm. We’ll see. I don’t usually …” his voice trailed off as his vision became fixed towards the entrance into the room. “Oh. Oh my god. Who is that woman there? The one in the striking red dress?” Mr. Tarpley pointed to the foyer area.

“The one with her hair in an up-do? Ah … that’s my sister Angie. She’s my ride home when this ends. She’s early – her college professional society meeting must have ended sooner than usual.”

“Young lady – what’s your name?”

“Willow, sir. Willow Ramos.”

“Willow. Could you please introduce me to your gorgeous sister?”

One week later, Willow and Bern were on a double date with Angie and Sam Tarpley at Montague’s. Sam was singing praises to Bern.

“You figured out the problem, buddy. A vapor lock in the fuel line that all the sensors missed. My guys reworked the tubing, but I may need to trade in that roadster for something else eventually.”

“Yeah,” replied Bern. “The 2002 models had that flaw – and it’s worse in hot desert climates.”

“How did you know that?”

“Cars are an obsession for me. I like reading up on them, and I like the thrill of solving a problem that’s stumped everyone else.”

“You know, I wish I could clone you. Have one of your clones for each shop I own – because each shop has one or two ‘stumpers’ that are hard to figure out.”

Willow broke in. “Maybe you don’t have to clone him. Why not do video conference calls? Have your regional guys explain the cases to Bern, and have him work on troubleshooting them. If your centers get a reputation for curing the tough ones, think what that would do for your revenue!”

“I’d have to invent a new job position for him … Master Auto Technician. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Say, you two make a pretty good team.”

“Bern’s the one with the skill,” Willow demurred.

“And you’re the one with the plans and vision,” Bernard smiled back at her.

“So far I think you and I make a good couple too,” purred Angie as she kissed Sam on the cheek.

To be continued tomorrow.

Thanks for reading!