Clergy from left, Pastor Deb Church, Deacon Amy Schmuck, The Rev. Mary Ann Hill, The Rev. Lynn Finnegan, Deacon Cynthia Biddlecomb, retired, and Pastor Nicolé Raddu Ferry. Photo by Nate Limback/ladailypost.com

By Rev. Deb Beloved Church
White Rock Presbyterian Church

I moved here in October 1998, and I’ve lived and worked here ever since. Until last weekend.

As of Aug. 31, I no longer live here. As of Sept. 16, I will no longer work here (my last Sunday at WRPC is Sept. 15; join us for worship at 9:30 and stay for a celebration of our ministry together!). And after today, I will no longer be writing for this column.

So what do I want to say in this context, as my farewell?

Part of what I want to say, as an ordained Minister in the United Church of Christ, as a pastor in the Presbyterian Church (USA), and as a follower of Jesus, is, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for the ways the Church has hurt you. If not you, then someone you love. If not someone you love, then someone you know. If not someone you know, then the world.

Certainly, despite its good intentions and alongside its good works, the Church hurts people. It always has and always will, made up as it is of wounded humans and imperfect structures, like any other institution. The hurt it inflicts may be greater than others, however, as it is done in the name of God.

And so with whatever authority I have as a Minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ: I’m sorry for the hurt. So sorry… That is not God’s intention or desire for the Church.

The other thing I want to say is this: you, reader, are God’s Beloved. Unconditionally loved and fully accepted. Period.

Yes, you. (And your loved ones. And your neighbors. And your boss. And your enemies. Yes, they are, too. But for now–in this moment: you.)

You are God’s Beloved, unconditionally loved and fully accepted. And not because you are good. Nor because you do good. Not because you are kind. Or helpful. Or agreeable. Or honest. Or sober. Or a hard worker. Or a generous giver. Or a faithful church-goer. Or a prayer warrior. Those things have not earned you God’s deep love and acceptance.

Nor do your secrets or your shame diminish it. Nor do your fears, or your doubts, or your regrets, or your greatest failures. Neither do your ugly, mean, petty, self-righteous, self-absorbed moments–that you think no one knows about but you. None of those things lessens your belovedness in God’s eyes; nothing about you keeps God from loving you unconditionally and accepting you fully.

You–and every.other.person.ever—are loved and accepted by God because that is what Love does and Love is who God is.

You, just as you are, are deeply and fully and wholly loved and accepted by God. You cannot do or be anything that will change that. You can only accept it. Or not. Live into it. Or not. Be changed and freed by it. Or not.

You, reader, are deeply and fully and wholly, and fiercely and relentlessly and eternally, loved and accepted by God. Just as you are. Period.

Accept that, and be transformed!

Thank you, Los Alamos, for 26 years.

Editor’s note: ‘All Shall Be Well’ is a column written by local women clergy including ELCA Deacon Cynthia Biddlecomb, M.Div., retired (czoebidd@gmail.com); Pastor Nicolé Ferry, Bethlehem Evangelical Lutheran Church (pastornicole@bethluth.com); Associate Priest Lynn Finnegan, The Episcopal Church of the Holy Faith, Santa Fe (rev.lynn@holyfaithchurchsf.org); Pastor Deb Church, White Rock Presbyterian Church (pastor@wrpchurch.com),  The Rev. Mary Ann Hill, Rector, Trinity on the Hill Episcopal Church (momaryannhill@gmail.com) and Deacon Amy Schmuck, Bethlehem Evangelical Lutheran Church (deaconamy@bethluth.com)