So proud.

 And the Lord added to their number daily 
those who were being saved. 

--Acts 2:47

I did something yesterday I have never done before. It was a last-minute decision. I wasn't really sure I wanted to do it, but it wouldn't let go of me. It got stuck in my mind and then in my heart-- and I just had to do it.

Curious, now, aren't you? 

My church, University Circle UMC, is part of the Reconciling Ministries Network (RMN). We are also strong supporters of the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) and the Gay Straight Alliance. We profess and believe (and behave as if) all are welcome.

About a week ago, I received an email telling me that the RMN was participating in the 2014 Pride Parade in downtown Cleveland on June 28. They were extending an invitation for member churches to join them. I also learned that the Grand Marshal this year was a member of our congregation.

So as the social network person for the church, I put out the word. The event went up on Facebook. I sent out an email on the prayer chain seconding the invitation. Come, I said. Come and walk the walk.

But in my own mind, I wasn't sure I was going to do so.

The day got closer, and still I waffled. Should I go? I wouldn't be walking all alone or anything. Oh, but it was going to be so hot. Oh, I don't know. . . .

I emailed someone whom I thought would be going, to ask for a ride. Turns out they weren't going to attend or walk. Off the hook, I thought.

Pfft. Right. The Parade would not leave my mind.

So I Googled for directions. I hemmed. I hawed. Then I spoke with my beloved, and guess what he says, from two thousand miles away in Montana.

You should go, he says. You should go. For your brother and brother-in-law, if for no other reason.

So . . . I went. 

And I am so glad I did. I truly am. For a number of reasons.

There were over 40 groups there, I am guessing, but I never did find RMN. I found HRC and decided to walk with them. It was a great bunch. Like most of the Parade participants, I believe most of the HRC group were members of the LGBT community rather than allies like me. (Is this the point where I confess to having returned my wedding rings to my left hand? True story. Sad, perhaps, but true.) We carried a huge banner, 30' x 55'.

 We were lining up next to a very . . . umm . . . interesting group of mostly men wearing mostly leather and chains, and very little of either one. One of the younger male members of HRC confided to me, "They make me a little scared. Definitely not my thing!" Much laughter, much love.

As we waited to step off, a beautiful transgender person dressed in gold lame walked past-- in six-inch heels. And she walked the whole parade in those heels (although she did take off the gold lame jacket after about a half mile).

At one point, just before the final corner and the home stretch, there was a group we lovingly called the Haters. 

The Haters come every year. They have to have a permit, and they have to stand in a particular location. This bunch was pretty tame, actually. I will not dignify their messages by repeating any of them here, but I must tell you about the Guardian Angels.

The Guardian Angels come out every year, as well. When the Haters show up, so do they. Dressed in white tunics, constructed to look as though they have enormous spread wings, wearing rainbow ribbons draped around their necks, these beautiful souls arrive early and stand, shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the Haters, between them and those who march. They don't say a word. 

One look at their faces tells you they are praying for every person in front of them and behind them. They. Were. Beautiful. Truly the image of God's love in the world.

So we cheered as we passed, and when we got to the final corner we made a full circle, banner and all, and the crowd went wild. We walked the final blocks and said goodbye, and called it a day.

It was hot. It was different than anything I had ever experienced. At times it was way outside my comfort zone.

And I am so glad I went.

Because there were not a lot of allies there, and we need to walk the walk.

If the beautiful soul in gold lame showed up this morning in her six-inch heels, would we really, truly know how to welcome her? I hope so. But I am not completely sure. 

But I hope so.

Because this, friends, is how the Church is called to act. This unconditional love is what draws people, lures the broken-hearted and disillusioned. It's not the building or the music, or even the best sermon ever preached from a pulpit.

It's the Love. Because in that Love lies the Hope and Promise of the future. Amen.