Tension over LGBTQ issues splits the Methodist Church locally, nationally
Throughout its long history, the Methodist Church in the United States has reflected the conflict and turmoil that is happening in the world around it, and that was never more apparent than it was in the 1840s.
It was then that the church fractured over slavery. Southern slaveholders and their sympathizers who opposed the church’s official stance condemning the ownership of human beings formed the Methodist Episcopal Church, while abolitionists established Wesleyan Methodist and Free Methodist congregations. It wasn’t until 1939 and the eve of World War II that Methodist Church was united once again, a full 76 years after the Emancipation Proclamation. And even at that juncture, there were disagreements — Southern segregationists not interested in joining the United Methodist Church bolted to establish the Southern Methodist Church.
Almost 180 years later, as the saying goes, history is not exactly repeating itself, but it does seem like it’s rhyming.
In June, almost 300 Methodist congregations in the western portion of Pennsylvania officially ended their relationship with the United Methodist Church. More than 40 of those congregations were in Fayette County, and there were 11 churches in Washington and Greene counties that left the fold, including churches in Amity, Coal Center, Scenery Hill and Carmichaels. It was the culmination of a rift that has been growing for more than three years centering on the role LGBTQ people should have within the Methodist Church — more specifically, whether same-sex marriages should be performed, and whether LGBTQ clergy should be ordained. It is widely believed that, in 2024, the United Methodist Church will lift its prohibition against both practices when it has its general conference in Charlotte, N.C.
“That issue will certainly come up,” said Liz Lennox, director of communications for the Western Pennsylvania Conference of the United Methodist Church. “It’s hard to predict what will happen at that conference.”
What has happened in this part of Pennsylvania is part of a larger battle taking place nationally and internationally. About 6,000 churches have decamped from the United Methodist Church over the last couple of years, almost one-fifth of the 30,000 United Methodist congregations in the United States. Similar disputes have arisen in other mainline Protestant denominations, including the Episcopalian, Lutheran, Presbyterian and Baptist churches.
Bishop Cynthia Moore-Koikoi of the Western Pennsylvania Conference said in June, “This has been difficult work to do. It has been challenging spiritually, intellectually and emotionally.”
Mapletown Methodist Church in Greene County is one of the churches that departed from the United Methodist Church. Lanfer Simpson, its pastor, pointed out that the United Methodist Church’s Book of Discipline — basically, the church’s guide to its doctrine — states that “the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching,” and that “conservative” congregations, like his own, felt the church was straying from its own tenets.
“Throughout the United States, it was felt that the church was not adhering to that discipline,” Simpson said.
Mapletown Methodist Church has now joined the Global Methodist Church, which was established last year and has reportedly taken in almost 3,000 congregations as a result of the schism. While most congregations took that step, others opted to become nondenominational, join another denomination, or simply close because the number of members had dwindled.
And while disputes over the roles of LGBTQ members and clergy have been at the forefront of the dispute, other issues have also been at play. Some congregations wanted more control over the buildings where they meet and worship, and some wanted more say in how pastors are chosen. In the United Methodist Church, congregations can offer input, but it is ultimately up to a bishop to appoint pastors.
In order to sever their affiliation with the United Methodist Church, individual congregations needed two-thirds of members to agree. Disaffiliation has also come with some financial strings attached: Departing congregations have had to pay 2% of the assessed value of their church building; two years’ worth of payments to their regional conference; and a payment to the pension fund for retired pastors. Simpson said his congregation, which has about 180 members, has been able to meet these obligations.
On the other hand, the departure of about 20% of the congregations within the Western Pennsylvania Conference will have an impact on its bottom line, Lennox conceded.
“The financial implications are not yet known,” she explained, adding that the conference will have to find ways “to be nimble.”
Though it is anchored in the United States, the United Methodist Church stretches over the world, with congregations in Asia, Europe, Africa, Australia and other spots on the map. Part of the challenge facing the United Methodist Church, according to Erik Hoeke, a former pastor at Avery United Methodist Church in Washington, is that there are “a lot of cultural differences” within one global denomination — attitudes toward homosexuality are very different in the United States, Hoeke pointed out, compared to some countries in Africa, where members of the LGBTQ community are still subject to arrest and persecution.
Does Hoeke, who is now a communications strategist with the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, ever see a day when the now disunited Methodist Church will become one again?
“It might be a while,” he said.
In the meantime, Simpson is hopeful that his congregation, and others like it, will see beyond denominational labels and focus more on its ultimate mission.
“The effectiveness of the church has less to do with the denomination than the effectiveness of the people in the church,” he said. “Whether you’re called Global Methodist, Free Methodist or Wesleyan Methodist, it’s how (members) choose to feed the hungry and clothe the poor. That’s the heart of Christianity.”