I started attending Blakemore Church of the Nazarene in late 2013. After visiting many of the Nazarene churches in Nashville, I was won over by the airy simplicity of the sanctuary, the gregarious cohesion of the community, and the warmth, sincerity, and generosity of the pastor. It took months for me to figure out which children belonged to which families, so seamless was the care of all for each. I made friends with Trevecca students, faculty, and alumni--just as I'd hoped to when I moved from one university region to this one. I found a group of Nazarenes who were kind and smart and curious and caring, who showed up to sing and pray and serve together. They welcomed me into membership on February 15, 2015, and it was truly (maybe embarrassingly) one of the sweetest, most meaningful moments of my life.
A lot has changed at Blakemore over the last 9 years. Parishioners, staff, and pastors have come and gone. Children have been born and grown. Trees have been planted and torn up. Through it all, I've shown up weekly, sat in my pew, attended and taught Sunday School, brought food to potlucks, cleaned out closets and cupboards, chased toddlers, made coffee, sang, prayed, cried.
I'm the last person who was here even 5 years ago.
And now it's my turn to leave.
I love this space and this church, but it has recently been made clear to me that I am not as welcome as I have been, or as I thought I was.
People ask me all the time why I stay in the Church of the Nazarene, and how. And my answer has always rested on the importance of my local church. The fact that I had a local community of Nazarenes as a site of mutual care and service and study, who loved and accepted me and fumbled with me toward holiness made the broader, more abstract concerns of dealing with a larger denomination moot.
Now that it is apparent (suddenly and shockingly so) that Blakemore will no longer be such a space of safety and comfort for me, it's an easy decision to move on.
I deserve to be in a community where I am a vital and valued member. Where I am embraced and celebrated. Where my talents are put to use, not hidden under a bushel. Where my consistent presence is considered a gift, not a burden.
This Sunday is the first day of Advent, the first day of a new liturgical year, and the first day I will worship with a new Nazarene congregation. I love the Church of the Nazarene, and I have work to do with them yet. It will just have to be as part of another local church.