Forty years later, Bruce Cockburn is back in church—and part of a worship band

 

About 40 years ago, Canadian singer-songwriter Bruce Cockburn—well known and much-appreciated for the Christian imagery and ideas in his music—stopped attending church. 

“The formal church and I had grown apart,” he said of his decision.

 

A regular churchgoer in the 1970s, he quit in 1980 when he moved from Ottawa to Toronto.

 

“I never found a church in Toronto that felt like home to me,” he said. “I just kind of stopped going.”

 

Today, Cockburn, 76, is an active member of the Lighthouse Church in San Francisco, where he lives with his wife, M.J. Hannett, and their nine-year-old daughter, Iona.

 

His return began after a friend’s tragic death, starting M.J. on a spiritual quest that led her to the Lighthouse Church. She really loved it and asked him to come with her.

 

“I told her ‘I’m not going,’” he said. “I said I was past that. I wasn’t a churchgoing person.”

 

But M.J. persevered and, one Sunday, he relented. Once there, he was “completely blown away.”  

 

“When I walked in the door, I felt a wave of love. I didn’t know any of these people, and they didn’t know me, but love filled the room,” he said of the small non-denominational congregation. “It felt like the church I was waiting for.”

 

Before long, he was invited to join the church’s worship band.

 

“Nobody knew who I was,” said Cockburn, who has released 35 albums and won multiple awards including 13 Junos, the Canadian equivalent of the Grammys. “They needed a guitar player, so they were foolish enough to ask me.”

 

Despite being famous in Canada, “nobody made a fuss about me,” he added. “I was just an old guy who played guitar. I still think most of them have no idea who I am and I’m totally fine with it.”

 

He enjoys being part of the worship band, saying it gives him “a chance to play music other than my own. It’s a meaningful way for me to participate.”

 

Because of pandemic shutdowns, Cockburn hasn’t played at church for over a year. But he has stayed involved, playing songs for online services and participating in a sermon series about parables.

 

As for his faith, it remains strong—even if he doesn’t always know what direction life will take him.

 

“It’s a continuing journey,” he said. “I don’t feel I have the corner on understanding anything. I just have a desire to have a relationship with God, a day-to-day thing . . . I’ve always believed a relationship with God should be central to everyone’s life, and I’ve tried to keep it the centre of mine.”

 

While he doesn’t have “any hesitation” identifying as a Christian, he’s starting to wonder if that’s such a good thing to say in public in the U.S. these days.

 

If someone asks if he’s a Christian, he still says yes — “but not one of those,” he said. “Yes, I’m a Christian, but I got vaccinated.”

 

He’s missed touring and playing to live audiences during the pandemic. But he wrote and released four songs in May as a fundraiser for the church’s programs for to assist homeless people and combat human trafficking.

 

One of the songs, Orders, is “a biblical take on things, the order to love them all,” he said, referring to Jesus’ command to love neighbours.

 

“Lots of people who consider themselves believers frequently forget that,” he said. “It’s a reminder to myself as much as to anyone else,” he added.

 

Another song, titled Us All, addresses the polarization in America.

 

Lots of things divide people, Cockburn said. But “one of the things we all have in common is pain. We have scars that unite us all.”

 

When asked about where his music comes from, the writer of well-known songs such as “If I Had a Rocket Launcher,” “Call It Democracy,” “The Trouble With Normal,” “Rumours of Glory,” “Lord of the Starfields” and “Wondering Where the Lions Are” said they are gifts that “come from God.”

 

“I still have to filter it,” he said, adding “Unfortunately, that means God is stuck with me as a filter.”

Versions of this article originally published in the Winnipeg Free Press and Religion News Service.

Former pastor urges churches to accept trans people “for who they are”

 

From her childhood, Lucy knew there was something different about her. 

“From my earlier memory I knew my gender didn’t match what I was told to be,” she said. 

It wasn’t until she was in her 20s that she learned about who she was—a Queer person. 

She kept it quiet for a long time, during which she heard church people say many hurtful things about LGBTQ+ people. 

“They said them assuming I agreed with them,” she said. “They didn’t know they were talking to a Queer.” 

Lucy shared her story September 23 at the second episode of A Time To Listen, an online conversation for Canadian Mennonite Brethren church members who want to talk about LGBTQ+ and the church. 

A total of 115 screens were tuned into the episode, which also included sharing by Ron and Sharon, a Mennonite Brethren couple who shared about their journey after their son came out as Queer. 

Now a self-described transgender lesbian, Lucy graduated from Bethany College, a Mennonite Brethren school in Saskatchewan, studied at the Mennonite Brethren Biblical Seminary, served with Multiply, the denomination’s mission arm, and became a pastor while presenting as a male.  

Before transitioning, she left pastoral ministry so as not to create a problem for the church or the conference. 

Soon after, the board of her former church issued a statement condemning her, and some former members sent hurtful e-mails. 

She also remembers being “shamed” by a former member—one of her parishioners—in a grocery store, while others spread rumours. 

“It felt like everything I had tried to teach them about Jesus as their pastor had been thrown out when they found out I was trans,” she said, adding not everyone acted that way. “But the majority have rejected me.” 

She recalled sermons she preached where she asked the congregation if they would welcome anyone into the church, just like Jesus. 

“Every time I preached that, there would be a chorus of ‘amens,’” she said. “But when I left it wasn’t pretty.” 

As for transitioning, she had to do it. 

“I would have died if I hadn’t,” she said, adding she was experiencing severe depression and have suicidal thoughts. 

“It was so emotionally painful for me I wanted to die,” she shared, noting that 43 percent of transgender people try to die by suicide. 

“Nearly half will attempt suicide,” she added. 

Now working as a trauma therapist, she urged churches to accept trans people “for who they are. People are dying while church committees and conferences discuss what they believe about trans people.” 

That, she said, is “what at stake for transgender people in the church.” 

After son comes out as Queer, Mennonite Brethren couple chooses to err “on the side of love”

“It rocked our world.”

That’s how Ron and Sharon (not their real names) described how they felt when their son came out as Queer. 

Later, they realized was “What was a shock for us as parents was a relief for our child,” said Ron. “We were heartbroken to realize how afraid he was to tell us, so afraid we would reject him.” 

They didn’t reject him, and it started the Mennonite Brethren couple on a journey of learning and acceptance of their Queer son and other LGBTQ+ people. 

Ron and Sharon shared their story September 23 at the second episode of A Time To Listen, an online conversation for Canadian Mennonite Brethren church members who want to talk about LGBTQ+ and the church. 

A total of 115 screens were tuned into the episode, which also included sharing by Lucy, a former Mennonite Brethren pastor who transitioned from male to female. 

The journey now is “different now than it was at the beginning,” said Sharon, who grew up in a Mennonite Brethren church while Ron joined later as a young adult. 

Before their son came out, “the Bible seemed black and white” on the issue of LGBTQ+, Sharon said—it said it was wrong. But then they took a deeper look. 

“Things are not as black and white as they used to be,” she said of their years of study and research into the subject. 

As they gained a better understanding of what the Bible said about homosexuality—including the so-called “clobber” passages—they realized the Bible wasn’t talking about committed same-sex relationships. 

Today, they say they don’t have all the answers, but they realize being LGBTQ+ “is not a choice,” said Sharon. 

“We are more comfortable with ambiguity,” she added, noting they choose “to err on the side of love, of grace over condemnation.” 

“We would rather be too compassionate than too judgmental,” added Ron. 

While they accepted their son, they were still anxious about telling others. When he came out more publicly about eight months later, “it opened doors for us to talk to other parents in same situation,” Sharon said. 

They joined a local group of parents of LGBTQ+ children, something that has become “a lifeline,” she said. “We get each other, we understand each other.” 

It’s still not easy with some of their Christian friends; some never ask about their son, and some friendships have cooled. 

What hurts them is seeing how churches exclude LGBTQ+ Christians. 

“We need to listen to their stories of pain and ongoing faith,” said Ron. “Their identity is not their choice. They are damaged by the exclusion they have encountered. And yet, they have showed little anger and much grace.” 

The Christian community “needs to recognize the damage that has been done and work towards reconciliation,” added Sharon. 

The couple continues to be struck by how Jesus accepted people on fringes. Yet, Ron said, “the church is more inclined to condemn fringe people, like LGBTQ+ people. That is disappointing. That definitely doesn’t seem to be the Jesus way.” 

Attitudes like that are the reason their children—they have three—have moved away from the church, he added. 

Sometimes the church doesn’t feel like a safe space for them, either. 

Some people are “more concerned about our orthodoxy than our journey,” Sharon said, adding “many are surprisingly hesitant to talk about it.” 

But the topic won’t go away, said Ron, “even if the church ignores it.” LGBTQ+ people “are in our churches already. If don’t listen, we lose the opportunity to talk about it constructively.” 

At the same time, the church will lose more LGBTQ+ people, and their friends and families, he added. 

Looking back “We have come to see our journey as a gift,” said Ron, noting it gave them a new understanding of God’s unconditional love. 

As for LGBTQ+ Christians, “the church is poorer for excluding them,” said Sharon.