How does anti-gay sentiment relate to other global problems like racism and climate change? If one thinks the link is tenuous, Rev. Marti Scott, a pastor at Euclid Avenue United Methodist Church in Oak Park, may persuade people to think again. Scott sees these challenges as interconnected through the idea of "social holiness," a principle of Methodist theology.
According to Scott, the quest for LGBTQ equality is linked to ending racism and combating climate change because these problems require humans to rectify the systems of injustice we have created. In her recent sermon "The Green Cross," Scott called for the "extended coverage" of salvation that goes beyond only humans and encompasses the whole earth.
"Early church fathers not only restricted salvation to humans, but they also limited it to men," Scott said. "Eventually, women were also discovered to have souls. Over time, we've fought to expand this coverage to all people, no matter their race or orientation. By speaking of a Green Cross, I mean to suggest that salvation needs to be extended even further."
Scott's quest for "extended coverage" began early in her career. As a young pastor on Chicago's West Side during the late 1970s, she sought to unify the community, which was becoming more ethnically diverse. Within the first few weeks of her first appointment, her church received a visit from a group of white supremacists.
"They broke in and put Nazi swastikas on the wall behind the pulpit and on the lectern side. To make a long story short, I tried to report it to the police, but they said it wasn't enough damage to do a report. Immediately, I thought that this was my fault and I cleaned it up. I didn't want to tell the congregation. At the time, women were in a position where they were defending the right to be pastors," she said.
Scott recalled that the next Sunday her parishioners were unusually noisy. "When it got to the joys and concerns time, someone said, 'Hey, Rev, what are all of these pieces of paper in our hymnal?' I had no idea. So, I told them to put them back, but they started reading them off: 'God is gay. God is woman. God is red. God is Black,'" she said. "They asked what to do with them, and I, not knowing what to do, said, 'Let's put them in the offering plate, we'll count them up and see who won.'"
The intruders left the notes to intimidate Scott. Instead, they spurred her to action. In her 12 years serving as a pastor on the West Side, she worked with minority families facing discrimination and violence as they moved into predominately white neighborhoods of the area. In one instance the home of an African-American family was burned down on the night before they were planning to move in.
As Scott tried to confront this violence, she received hate mail. The parsonage where she was living was defaced with red paint and broken into 19 times. On the 25th Anniversary of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech, she and others organized a march of a 1,000 people and were met by a group of 800 Klansmen and Neo-Nazis. "It was a crucible in many ways," she said.
Through this experience, Scott came to believe that diversity is an expression of God. "If we are made in the image of God and only know people like ourselves, then we only know one aspect of God. As a community grows in diversity, we are more likely to understand God as reflected in humanity," she said.
Scott took this view of diversity into her work teaching at Chicago-area seminaries and her service as the District Superintendent of the Northern Illinois Conference of the United Methodist Church. In these roles, she encountered several instances of discrimination in which a person's sexual orientation was a barrier to full inclusion in the church.
"In my ministry with LGBTQ parishioners, I've experienced people who have taken their lives or been on a pattern of self-destruction and that has deepened my sense of call that the church of all places needs to be an inclusive place," she said. In one specific instance, a candidate for ordination took her life when it became clear that she was not being ordained due to her orientation as an out lesbian.
To make the church welcoming, Scott has fought for full inclusion of LGBTQ parishioners, including the right to be married within the church. For example, she and her current congregation at Euclid Avenue Church in Oak Park support full recognition for married same-sex couples within the wider Methodist denomination.
"I am part of a group of ministers who have said that we will obey the law of love and not the law of the church with regard to same-sex marriage. Pastors are not currently permitted to either marry same-sex couples or have that done in the church where they serve," she said.
Amid efforts to expand recognition of same-sex couples within the church, Scott's congregation at Euclid Avenue Church has also called on her to consider yet another challenge—global climate change. Euclid's parishioners started their campaign for the environment with modest changes, like getting rid of Styrofoam, recycling, changing out the light bulbs, biking to church, and having workshops on composting. As the congregation progressed in their work on the issue, Scott's thinking on the matter evolved as well.
"Even if we worked out all of our 'human' issues, we still had to breathe air and have clean drinking water. I moved from a more anthropomorphic theology to one focused on all of creation," she said.
Three years ago, Scott and her parishioners had an opportunity to enact change on a large scale when the church's boiler gave out. "We had a choice to replace it with either a gas-guzzling, carbon-producing boiler or see it as an opportunity to do something different that might be environmentally friendly," she said. This challenge led Euclid to seriously consider geothermal energy. At first, this seemed like an expensive proposition. However, after calculating the cost of replacing the boiler, radiators, and plumbing, the difference between the gas-based system and geothermal system was small and would result in cost savings over time.
With an assertive capital campaign and grants from the Illinois Clean Energy Foundation, Euclid's parishioners and Scott made the geothermal system, housed in wells 150 feet below the church's parking lot, a reality. Now, the congregation is turning its attention to reducing its electricity usage by installing solar panels on the roof this spring.
According to Scott, these different yet interconnected challenges tackled over the course of her career have helped her to find a prophetic voice. "It's amazing how the world gives you so many, many more opportunities to use your voice," she said.
