Devotions and Stories for the ELCA Churchwide Assembly

Transcription

Devotions and Stories for the ELCA Churchwide Assembly
A Place
Within My Walls
Devotions and Stories
for the ELCA
Churchwide Assembly
August 6-11, 2007
Chicago, Illinois
Welcome
W
elcome to A Place Within My Walls. The ELCA Curchwide Assembly is often a time when
schedules are so intense that finding a moment for personal Bible study and spiritual
reflection takes real intentionality. Still, for those of us who are veterans of churchwide assemblies past, dedicating ten or fifteen minutes to center ourselves in the stories of
scripture and reflection on the day often brings a stillness and clarity.
In the pages that follow, you will find daily devotions written especially for this churchwide
assembly. The stories from the book of Acts speak to the experiences and decisions of the early
church when confronted by diversity and conflict sometimes produced by the actions of the
Holy Spirit. The lessons of the book of Acts and the work of the Holy Spirit in gift and call
are all at play in our church today. This is especially true as we tackle diversity and debate in
regard to what to do when the Holy Spirit calls and gifts lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender
(LGBT) Lutherans for ministry.
Interspersed between the devotions you will find the stories and pictures of eleven gay and
lesbian clergy and two would-be pastors. Twelve are serving in congregational or specialized
ministries. One is a seminarian just leaving for internship. Some are partnered. Some are not.
All are called by God to the ministry of Word and Sacrament. All have prayerfully discerned the
call of the Spirit to be part of introducing the ELCA to its LGBT pastors.
On pages 21–23 of this booklet you will find a listing of additional LGBT pastors, seminarians, and associates in ministry serving, awaiting call, or removed from the roster since the
churchwide assembly in 2005. Page 24 presents early results from The Missing Project showing
statistics on LGBT pastors and would-be pastors missing from the ELCA’s rostered ministry.
Many of those introduced in this booklet will be attending this churchwide assembly. We
hope you will read about them and then will want to meet them in person. You will find these
pastors at the events noted below. Come and hear what God is up to in their lives. See for yourself if the Holy Spirit has “fallen upon them.” Talk to them; ask your questions. Then, later in
the week, as we take up conversations about them and with them, you will be asked to answer the
questions as the disciples did in the book of Acts.
Tuesday, August 7, 8:30 pm: Meet the Rev. Bradley Schmeling and the people of St. John’s
Lutheran for an hour of conversation. Hyatt, East Tower, Columbus Hall K/L. Snacks and
beverages.
Wednesday, August 8, 8:00 pm: Join in festive worship with the Rev. Margaret Payne,
bishop of the New England Synod presiding and the Rev. Bradley Schmeling preaching.
Hyatt East Tower, Ballroom E/F. Clergy are invited to vest with red stoles and process.
Reception to follow.
Thursday, August 9, 7:00 pm: Visit the full display of the Shower of Stoles Project, a
presentation of 1,100 liturgical stoles from LGBT pastors who have been removed from the
clergy roster of their denominations. Reception with hearty hors d’oeuvres and beverages
accompanies this display. Hyatt East Tower, Ballroom E/F.
Nightly caucus meetings Monday through Friday for voting members supporting the full
inclusion of LGBT people in the ELCA. Columbus Hall K/L following the close of scheduled activities on each day.
1
Contents
2
Devotion for Tuesday
3
Pastor Darin Easler
4
Pastor Bradley Schmeling
5
Pastor Barbara Lundblad
6
Devotion for Wednesday
7
Pastor Gladys Moore
8
Pastor Jeff Ziegler
9
Pastor Katrina Foster
10
Devotion for Thursday
11
Pastor Phil Trzynka
12
Pastor James Boline
13
Pastor Erik Christensen
14
Devotion for Friday
15
Pastoral Minister Jen Nagel
16
Pastor Mary Albing
17
Seminarian Tim Feiertag
18
Devotion for Saturday
19
Pastor Richard Foster
20
Called to Serve
21
The Missing Project
24
Invariably, I get a call during the week before Pentecost from the
lay reader assigned to read Acts 2:1-21. “How do I pronounce all
these names?” he says, worried. Some readers just trade for another
Sunday rather than risk mispronouncing the names of those
ancient peoples and places: Parthians, Medes, Elamites, residents
of Cappadocia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia. Most readers, however, are
bold enough to give it a try. Some have learned the pronunciation
after years of listening to someone else read the lesson. I always tell
readers that if they read through the list with confidence and power,
even if they mispronounce one of the cities on the list, listeners
who actually know the correct pronunciation will be compelled to
question whether they’ve had it wrong all these years.
Churchwide assembly is certainly another opportunity for the
church to gather in the presence of the Spirit, in the power of
Pentecost love, to risk once again our ancient call to translate
the Gospel into every language, metaphor, and expression. In
gathering within the churchwide expression, we become a reversal
of the Tower of Babel, where the world was divided by language,
custom, and metaphor. The Holy Spirit gives us the imagination to
be one church, even when diversity sometimes seems to confuse us.
It has always been difficult for the church to translate the Gospel
into every language, to find the metaphor and the grammar that
bring the good news to every person on the earth. The amazing
diversity of peoples and languages makes it hard for us to
understand one another, even to make sense to each other.
Yet, generation after generation, we make new attempts, our
boldness and our confidence coming from the Christ who has
claimed every one of us.
The church still trips and stumbles as it attempts to speak the
Gospel in a way that genuinely brings the good news to people who
are in the sexual minority—those of us who are named as lesbian,
gay, bisexual, or transgender. We yearn to hear the Gospel spoken
to us without our being mispronounced by stereotype,
misunderstanding, and fear. Even more significantly, we yearn
for the ELCA to hear the Gospel alive and vibrant in all our
languages, to hear our dreams and visions, to share with us in
translating the good news of God’s amazing grace for those who
have not yet heard the message, to gather with us and with the
whole creation around font and table, all of us speaking words
that open possibilities and futures.
As it happened on the day of Pentecost, let the Spirit come
upon us as we go about our work together, today and always.
Devotion for Tuesday
Acts 2:1-21 The Day of Pentecost
3
“I feel like I’m abandoning
my church.” He said,
“No, Darin, your church
has abandoned you.”
Bradley Schmeling and Darin Easler
Pastor
Darin Easler
W
hen I was ordained in 1998, my vocational life finally came together. In my sister’s
Christmas letter that year, she wrote, “Darin has truly found his calling in life.” My
grandmother, now 98, always introduces me with pride. “This is my grandson,” she
says. “He’s a pastor.” Frederick Beuchner describes vocation as “the place where your deep
gladness meets the world’s deep need.” I know what that feels like.
I felt a similar harmony in 2000, coming out, claiming the gift of my sexual orientation,
my family and friends celebrating with me. Then, in 2002, after five years as pastor of United
Redeemer Lutheran Church in Zumbrota, Minnesota, I came out to the congregation of 1,200
members. There was amazing support. They didn’t care that I was gay, and they knew I loved
them as their pastor. They wanted me to stay; many were shocked I could be removed if I had a
life partner. They knew I longed for companionship. On August 3, 2003, I left my call, hoping
the ELCA would change its policy in Orlando, opening a door to return to parish ministry.
For the past four years I’ve worked in chaplaincy. It uses many of my gifts, but not nearly
to the depth that parish ministry does. My life changed wonderfully in 2004 when I met
my life partner Bradley at a church event in Minneapolis, Minnesota. In 2005, I moved to
Atlanta, Georgia, to join Bradley, calling my family and friends with the joyful news. It was like
announcing my engagement or marriage; I wanted to tell everyone! But the honeymoon felt
pretty short, knowing that when the church heard this news we could immediately face
discipline, rather than support and celebration.
After three years, I left the ELCA to join the United Church of Christ. I told my Dad, “I feel
like I’m abandoning my church.” He said, “No, Darin, your church has abandoned you.”
I received a form letter from my bishop, announcing that I would be removed from the
ELCA roster on August 3, 2006. The letter included the words, “Thank you for your years of
service as an ordained minister. God continue to walk with you as you discover new avenues
of service.” I felt like an object, simply discarded. The ELCA records don’t show I transferred
to the United Church of Christ; instead, it states that I was “removed from the roster.” I was
allowed to simply disappear from the ELCA—another silent statistic.
When people in a congregation share a ministry with their pastor, they don’t see sexual
orientation. What they know is that they love and feel loved by their pastor, are cared for,
and feel God’s loving and gracious presence. The hardest thing is trying to help these faithful
people of God to understand that the church institution still doesn’t see it that way.
4
What is clear to me is that
God has been calling me
my whole life. I can no
more turn away from that
divine invitation than I can
renounce the promise of
my baptism.
Bradley Schmeling and Darin Easler
Pastor
Bradley Schmeling
I
played church in my room in the third grade. Meticulously, I copied my childhood pastor’s
every movement and inflection as I made my family come to Wednesday night worship in
my make-shift sanctuary. From the time I was little, my love of the church must have been
apparent to those around me. Many suggested that I consider being a pastor.
Having grown up in the Missouri Synod, the LCA campus ministry in Athens, Ohio, was the
first time I experienced a church extravagant in its invitation and openly creative in its love of
Scripture. I couldn’t stay away. Those early Sunday school prophets were right; I went to seminary.
I was ordained to the office of Word and Sacrament in November of 1989, called to serve
Calvary Lutheran Church in Columbus, Ohio. Ironically, it was the same month that the newly
formed ELCA adopted the policy called Definitions and Guidelines for Discipline. But I was only dimly
aware that the intersection of those two events would prove dramatic for my life. At that time, I
was still in the closet, married to a college friend.
When I finally came out to myself in 1992, I first decided I’d need to leave the ministry.
Could a divorced, gay man really serve the church? A few people whom I respected deeply in
that congregation encouraged me to try. So, from Advent through Epiphany, I began the
work of visiting every member of the congregation to tell them I was gay. In the end, the
congregation affirmed my ministry and asked me to stay. I am now an openly gay pastor serving
an ELCA congregation.
When I left that first call, I moved into the safety of graduate school, wondering what might
be next for me. No one was more surprised than me when St. John’s Lutheran Church in
Atlanta, Georgia, invited me to consider serving as pastor. My sexual orientation was simply
not an issue for them. They were much more interested in the qualities of ministry that they
felt matched their mission.
When I filled out the forms indicating my availability for call, I wouldn’t agree to comply
with the policy, even though I was single at the time. I did, however, promise the bishop that if
I ever entered a relationship, I would come and tell him. For the last seven years, I have been
thrilled to do ministry with that extraordinary community of Christians.
When I met Darin Easler at a church meeting, it was a blessed surprise. He is a gift, best
friend, confidant, partner, and spouse. As our relationship moved forward and we committed
to be faithful to one another for life, I made my promised appointment with the bishop.
The charges, the trial, the verdict, and this assembly have all become part of my story—the
story of our whole church. How this all ends, only the savior knows. What is clear to me is that
God has been calling me my whole life. I can no more turn away from that divine invitation
than I can renounce the promise of my baptism.
5
Even if the policy
doesn’t change,
I know Jesus
will carry me still.
Barbara Lundblad and Nicole Johnson
Pastor
Barbara Lundblad
T
his year marks the 20th anniversary of the Constituting Convention that brought the
ELCA into being. I was honored to preach at the opening worship service and can still
see the three bishops pouring water into the baptismal font as a tangible sign of our
unity in Christ. Later this year, Nicole Johnson and I will mark the 20th anniversary of our
commitment to one another as life partners. While many already know this, I have never told
my story in writing.
Nicole and I met when I was pastor at Our Saviour’s Atonement in upper Manhattan. We
lived on the third floor of the church and our son Sam spent his first six years there. Our
Saviour’s Atonement was a wonderful mix of wise elders, Midwestern Lutherans, and many
who hadn’t been in church for years. We shared space with a Jewish congregation, founded the
neighborhood food pantry, and sang from Lutheran books, both green and blue. The members of the congregation accepted us as a family, often inviting the three of us to dinner. The
most surprising thing was how very ordinary it was—the pastor, her family, and the congregation. The same is true at Union Theological Seminary in New York City, where I teach, and at
Advent Lutheran Chruch, where I serve on the pastoral team. I could never have imagined such
scenarios growing up on an Iowa farm, but God has often surprised me along the way.
When I was ordained, the LCA had no written exclusionary policy. I answered questions
asked of everyone in the ordination service, saying, “I will and I ask God to help me.” No one
has asked me about my sexuality and Union Seminary didn’t ask for mobility papers. But there
comes a time when silence is no longer faithful, when gifted pastors like Bradley Schmeling are
removed from the clergy roster. Because of my silence and the protection of many people, I’ve
been invited to preach and teach across this church. I will be forever grateful for those opportunities. Yet, I know there are many who have never been invited, talented pastors whose voices
we have lost, whose gifts have been squandered because they refused to be silent.
I have loved this church since my childhood at Zion Lutheran in Gowrie, Iowa. Before I
could talk or read, I saw Jesus looking down at me from the Good Shepherd window. I knew
Jesus would carry me just as he was carrying that little lamb. For years I have prayed that the
church I love would welcome me as fully as Jesus welcomed me in that window. Even if the
policy doesn’t change, I know Jesus will carry me still.
6
For the last several summers at confirmation camp, we’ve given
video cameras to the kids and assigned Bible stories for them to
act out and record. We chose this story because it’s dramatic and
memorable, and it also speaks powerfully of evangelism and mission, our themes for camp. Of course, the first question the kids
asked was, “What’s a eunuch?” We should have been running the
cameras to record the kids’ reaction to the explanation! None of the
boys wanted to play that part, and the girls argued that they couldn’t
play that part. Several of the groups just chose to leave this information about the character out of the story, so that “the eunuch”
disappeared to make everyone more comfortable.
The identity of the character as a eunuch is essential to understanding the story. We know that the ancient Scriptures (Deut.
23:1) precluded eunuchs from serving in the assembly of the Lord.
We know that they were second-class citizens, perhaps entrusted
with important tasks, yet always on the edge. Even though the
eunuch attended worship, traveling from “far off” to come to Jerusalem, and even though he loved Scripture, the tradition would
require him to remain outside the assembly. It’s no accident that
this story takes place in a wilderness.
This Ethiopian man was reading from the scroll of Isaiah about
the suffering servant, and Philip led him to see the reflection of
Jesus in those ancient texts, the beloved one of God for whom justice was denied. I sometimes wonder if the two of them kept reading together until they came to chapter 56, where Isaiah dreams of
the day when a great reversal of the ancient order will occur, when
foreigners and eunuchs will be given “an everlasting name” and
a place “within my walls.” It was audacious for that African to ask
for the future to become a reality now. He didn’t want to wait. He
wanted to be in the service of his savior now! “What is to prevent
me from being baptized?”
There was no precedent for this baptism; no ancient tradition provided guidance for that day in the wilderness. There was
only the power of the Gospel to imagine a new future where old
boundaries are erased, where no one needs to disappear from the
story because we’re uncomfortable with the arrangements of Jesus’
vision, where all we need is the promise of Christ and the desire to
be washed in the waters of baptism—a church where it is, indeed,
possible for all of us to leave this place rejoicing.
Devotion for Wednesday
Acts 8:26-40 A Place Within My Walls:
Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch
7
I pray fervently for the day
when we will be fully
welcomed and embraced by
the Church for the gifts we
are and for the gifts we bring.
Pastor
Gladys Moore
G
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all
your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Luke 10:27
rowing up in my very proud African-American home, I experienced many loving
traditions. One of our proudest was that of being Christian and serving God. Church
for us wasn’t just on Sundays, but every day. Hearing my mother sing the beloved
hymns of the Church while cooking or doing housework was a delight. Indeed, church music
was heard as often as music from Motown artists or Ella Fitzgerald.
The above passage from Luke was a primary way of life in our household. The exceptions,
however, were those of our “neighbors” who were “funny.” Although no overt slurs were ever
spoken against gay people in our family, the tacit disapproval was very clear: those “funny”
people weren’t like us.
My journey of recognition started when my best friend from high school came out to me
during Christmas break in our first year in college. When she told me that she was in love with
a woman, I was shocked beyond words, fearing for both her mind and her soul. With the utterance of a word, she went from being my best friend to someone whom I feared. I’ll spare you
the painful details. My behavior was deplorable. Suffice it to say that it’s only through God’s
grace and my friend’s incredible patience and love that we are still great friends today. Fast forward thirteen years from that day to the time of my own “outing.” I met a woman at church and
we became fast friends. Soon, “like” turned to “love,” love turned into a relationship, and now
I was a bonafide “other”—one of those “funny neighbors.” Over the next months, the questioning from my God-fearing mother began. One night, shortly after my father died, I took her
bait. I told her, “Yes, we’re lovers.”
Mom’s words that night are forever etched in my memory. “I understand that you need love
and affection, but you know you’re an abomination to the Lord.” Painfully, I understood her
contemptuous position, since I had once held it myself. She was merely being a “good Christian” in her understanding of God.
I share this excruciating memory not to convict my mother, for she simply spouted off what
she had learned. Rather, I tell this story as a way of demonstrating how powerful and demonic
labels can be, for they assign beautiful people to categories in which hatred and intolerance are
not only permissible but expected.
For many years I struggled with my coming out, both publicly and privately. Through it all,
I have served the Church of Jesus Christ with joy and thanksgiving. I am proud to be numbered
among so many faithful gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer rostered leaders in the
ELCA and I pray fervently for the day when we will be fully welcomed and embraced by the
Church for the gifts we are and for the gifts we bring.
8
I am concerned about my
children learning that you
can be who you are and
celebrate your family
everywhere—
except in the church.
The Ziegler-Thayer Family (from left): Quan, Scott, Jeff, and Mark
Pastor
Jeff Ziegler
I
can still vividly remember a conversation with my dad twenty-two years ago: “If you or one
of your brothers were gay, you would be my son in a biological sense and nothing more. My
marriage would not survive it.” The message was clear—being gay and coming out equals
destruction. It wasn’t until I had been ordained for five years and my father had been dead for
six that I finally had the courage to acknowledge, then embrace, that I am gay.
I can still see the pain in my mom’s face when I told her I was gay. Part of me feared this was
the beginning of the end of my family. It was rough. Yet, instead of destruction, we experienced new life. When I met Scott nine years ago and we started building a family as foster and
adoptive parents, my sense of family grew. Scott and our children are a part of the Zieglers and
I am a part of the Thayers.
In coming out and entering a relationship, I have experienced both deeper love and pain
than I ever thought possible. Our hearts were wrenched when a toddler we fostered for fifteen
months and had been asked to adopt was placed with a distant relative. At the same time, I’ve
experienced great joy in seeing our children grow and thrive in a loving and nurturing environment as we worked with them to address the effects of prenatal drug and alcohol exposure.
I am now out in every aspect of my life and have been aware of God’s love and grace in the
experience of new life—except for in the church. Over the past ten years I have struggled with
being called by God and continuing to use my gifts for the sake of the Gospel. In recent years,
commuting as an intentional interim has been a way to serve that keeps my family out of the
typical fishbowl that a pastor’s family can be. I am concerned about my children learning that
you can be who you are and celebrate your family everywhere except—in the church.
While the church struggles with the role of gay people, it is in church that I have had the
most intimate experiences with Scott. Serving each other communion for the first time at a
Christmas Day service is an unparalleled moment of intimacy in our relationship. At the baptisms of our boys, we heard the prayer, “O God, the giver of all life, look with kindness on the
fathers of this child. Let them ever rejoice in the gift you have given them.”
As a pastor of this church, it is painful to not be able to share the most profound ways in
which I have experienced God’s love and grace in my own life. As I speak of that grace in the
church, it is my hope and my prayer that God will lead us toward a more powerful witness of
the relationships that are possible as sisters and brothers in Christ. I no longer believe that this
can only lead to destruction. I anticipate that change will be difficult, but I continue to trust in
God’s promise of new life—for me, for my family, and for the church.
9
We are a part
of this church.
It has shaped our lives,
our values and how
we live out our faith
in the world.
Zoia, Pamela Kallimanis, and Katrina Foster
Pastor
Katrina Foster
G
od leads every day and every decision. If not for God calling me away from the
familiar to follow him into the unknown, this small-town Southern girl would never
have moved to the Bronx, New York.
Jesus led me to Fordham Evangelical Lutheran Church in the Bronx, where God richly
blessed and multiplied His blessings. Fordham grows every year with increased giving and ministries. We serve Jesus by serving our neighbors. The two city blocks that the church occupies
are the only in the community without drug traffic. We are a year away from starting a twentytwo million dollar redevelopment project to equip the church and community for even more
comprehensive ministry for the future. Our bishop, Rev. Dr. Stephen Bouman, recognized
Fordham at our synod assembly for our faithful stewardship. At the same assembly, the ELCA
presented me with the Dr. Richard Lee Peterman “Good Steward” award, recognizing my gifts
for stewardship.
God continually calls me through family, church, and friends. I was blessed when my parents celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary last September, when my brother and his wife
just celebrated their twentieth anniversary, and when my partner and I celebrated our ninth. In
my family, we believe that marriage is holy and sacred.
Central to our faith is regular worship. My partner, Pamela, and our daughter, Zoia, attend
church every Sunday. Pamela sings in the gospel choir and Zoia regularly takes over the children’s sermons and goes to Sunday school. We pray, praise, sing, and share with others an invitation to come and see Jesus. We are a part of this church. It has shaped our lives, our values,
and how we live out our faith in the world. Faith and the church have been the major shaping
forces in our lives. We are not strangers.
No matter what happens at this churchwide assembly, our life together will continue to be
shaped by faith. I hope we recognize that our gay pastors are not strangers, but we are your
brothers and sisters through baptism.
10
In my first congregation, one of the most active members often
disagreed with me. At first, this bothered me because I thought that
having multiple opinions meant we weren’t going to accomplish the
goals of our ministry. I assumed that having different ideas about
important matters meant we weren’t unified. I also thought that
being in disagreement meant we wouldn’t experience genuine
community; harmony would always be out of reach. Over the years,
as I began to trust that her strong opinions were born out of her
deep love and commitment to the church, I began to learn what
being the church was really all about.
It comforts me to read the story of the Jerusalem church
meeting in assembly to hear two sides of an argument that divided
the Christian family. They didn’t put off their conversation. They
called Paul to come and explain himself. The text says that “they had
no small dissension and debate among them.” Some in the church
believed that circumcision, because it was the custom of Moses, was
necessary for salvation. Others believed that the
presence of faith and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit was a sign
of the saving work of God, even among the Gentiles. Peter himself
even changed his mind on this issue, first fighting with Paul and
then being converted in his dream to “show no partiality.” He says
to that gathered assembly, “We believe that we will be saved by the
grace of the Lord Jesus just as they will.”
The church was growing at the hands of the Gentiles! Those
early Christians must have been surprised that the Gentiles even
wanted to be Christians; that they were willing to fight for their
place to proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ; that they were
willing, even called, to live holy lives. They were willing to give
their hearts to Christ and to follow. They just weren’t willing to
be circumcised.
Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender Christians are even
now being filled with the Holy Spirit, led to the altar to kneel and
promise to preach and teach in accordance with Scripture and the
Confessions. Signs and wonders are happening across our church.
The church assembly in Chicago gathers in the tradition of those
Jerusalem elders, who were willing to trust that God might be
establishing a new process, that God just might be opening a door
so that yet another community might be offered the gifts of
Christian faith. We are not likely to leave this assembly with one
mind on the ordination of faithful gay and lesbian people. But
perhaps we are ready to change our policy so that the Gospel can
go to those who, just like the rest of us, will be saved by the grace
of the Lord Jesus Christ. In Orlando in 2005, with virtually one
clear voice, we said that this church will journey together faithfully,
even in the midst of disagreement. Perhaps, in 2007, we will make
that a reality.
Devotion f0r Thursday
Acts 15:1-11 The Council at Jerusalem
11
Understanding the
importance of a loving home,
I view my ministry as
welcoming people
home to God.
Phil Trzynka and Brett Henry
Pastor
Phil Trzynka
I
grew up in and around Fort Wayne, Indiana during the 1960s and 70s. It was usually on a
hot, August morning that my dad would decide to take an impromptu summer vacation,
traveling from our home in Fort Wayne to the Indiana Dunes on the other side of the state.
We would get up early in the morning, drive three hours, play all day, and then return home
late at night. Since my father had served as a Lutheran pastor and school teacher and had four
boys and four girls and little money, these trips were everything to us. Other classmates of mine
went on far-away jaunts to places I only read about in books. We stayed close to home. The trip
to the dunes was our yearly “big” vacation. It was usually the only time we ever left home for
more than a few hours. It may be hard to believe, but as much as I couldn’t wait to leave for the
dunes, I also couldn’t wait to arrive back home. There was no better sound than to hear the
voice of my dad waking us children sleeping in the car at 3:00 a.m. and saying, “You’re home!”
Oh, how I longed to be home.
Understanding the importance of a loving home, I view my ministry as welcoming people
home to God. The wonderful parish I serve, Trinity Lower East Side Lutheran Parish in
Manhattan, New York, seeks to be a home for everyone—including poor and rich, young and
old, gay and straight, housed and homeless. (Our parish has a strong outreach ministry of food
and services.)
I left my home in another Lutheran denomination because I didn’t feel welcomed as a gay
man. I moved from the Midwest, where I spent most of my life, to California and then to
New York City, seeking a place to be welcomed home. In 2000 I met my wonderful partner,
Brett Henry, and in the fall of 2006 we had two beautiful Commitment Services: one in Glen
Ellyn, Illinois, at a United Church of Christ congregation with Brett’s family and friends; and
the other at my own congregation, Trinity Lower East Side, where the church was filled with
congregational members and many ELCA clergy. It was overwhelming to Brett and me to see
people accepting and welcoming us into their families, lives, church, and homes.
Brett and I realize that wherever Christ is, there is home. We also realize that I am not
completely accepted in the denomination in which I currently serve because I am in a partnered
relationship. We yearn for the day when the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America can say to
us both, “Welcome, Brett and Phil. You’re home!”
12
In one two-minute speech,
I came out to the whole
churchwide assembly
—and beyond.
James Boline and Christopher Ma
Pastor
James Boline
A
as a voting member at the 2005 ELCA Churchwide Assembly, I was an embodiment of
two of the major issues being debated by the Orlando gathering: sexuality and liturgy.
I am one of the ELCA’s partnered gay clergy, a third generation Lutheran pastor with
roots in the Augustana tradition, and also a trained liturgist, having received the S.T.M. degree
in liturgical studies at Yale University’s Institute of Sacred Music, Worship, and the Arts. The
questions in Orlando were: Would this church, under any circumstance, openly permit lesbian
and gay pastors in committed relationships to continue in their calling as ministers of Word
and Sacrament? And, could a new worship book containing new and expansive language in its
hymns and liturgy have integrity and be a faithful expression of our corporate worship?
In Orlando, I was compelled to address the assembly twice, for the matters before us went
to the very core of my identity. First, I spoke to the integrity of the Renewing Worship process.
Second, I spoke to the integrity of “my” call—which is the church’s call—to serve as one of its
pastors who also happens to be gay and faithfully partnered. In other words, in one two-minute
speech, I came out to the whole churchwide assembly—and beyond.
I went to Orlando with the full blessing of the council of St Paul’s Church in Santa Monica,
California, and with the pastoral oversight of Bishop Dean Nelson of the Southwest California
Synod. The bishop asked that we meet privately to discuss my intentions to speak to the assembly; as always, we concluded with prayer. His pastoral presence, and that of several of the staff
and most of our voting members, gave me a profound sense of communal accompaniment.
The synod’s consultation process began at St. Paul’s in March 2006 and it concluded with
the recommendation that the bishop take no further action. Indeed, the Holy One has given
me and the people of St Paul’s the graces to “go out (and to come out) with good courage, not
knowing where we go but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us.”
My beloved partner is Christopher Ma, a third generation Lutheran, a son of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Hong Kong, a gifted designer of clothing, maker of music, and chef
extraordinaire. We are celebrating our tenth anniversary this year, and are grateful for this
small pocket of grace in the ELCA where I am sustained in the call to ordained ministry and
where our love and this call are regarded as holy and faithful, honored as having integrity, and
nurtured by the people of God. Here in this place, we are truly “living in God’s amazing grace.
Thanks be to God!”
13
The candidacy committee
felt that “the church is doing
untold damage to
furthering the Gospel by
eliminating gifted leaders
from serving.”
Erik Christensen, left
Pastor
Erik Christensen
I
was about fourteen years old the first time I told anyone I thought God was calling me to
ordained ministry. I told my dad while we were walking the dog. “Well Erik,” he wisely
counseled, “remember—everyone is called to a vocation. Don’t rush to any conclusions.”
I didn’t rush. I tried to find another outlet for my nagging sense of call. I taught specialeducation classes in a public junior high. I did family-reunification counseling in a shelter for
homeless youth. I worked as a youth advocate at a family-violence center. What I slowly came
to understand was that, although all this work was good and needed, it was not the vocation to
which God was calling me.
After consulting with the many pastors who’d known me as a youth and young adult, after
having my own sense of call confirmed in community by those who’d raised me in the faith of
the church, I began the candidacy process for rostered ordained ministry in the ELCA.
On December 5, 2003, the candidacy committee of the Southeastern Iowa Synod voted, not
unanimously, to deny approval for ordination, attaching the following statement to their decision: “The only criteria that keeps us, as a committee, from wholeheartedly approving [Erik]
for ordination is the fact that he is openly gay and unwilling to abide by one sentence in the
ELCA document, Vision and Expectations. We understand, as a committee, that it is our responsibility to represent and carry out the policies of the larger church, but we want to voice our
strong objections to a policy of our church that prevents such gifted persons from serving as
pastors. We feel that the church is doing untold damage to furthering the Gospel by eliminating
gifted leaders from serving. Should the ELCA policy change in the future, we would wholeheartedly approve Erik for ordination.”
The following year I entered candidacy through the Extraordinary Candidacy Project (ECP).
The ECP is a Lutheran organization that credentials openly gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender seminarians, candidates, and ordained or commissioned ministers who are preparing
for professional vocations in independent Lutheran parishes and congregations of the ELCA.
In June 2005, I was approved for ordained ministry and was rostered by the ECP.
A little more than a year later, I was called by St. Luke’s Lutheran Church of Logan Square
in Chicago, Illinois, to be their next pastor. St. Luke’s made the decision to open its call
process to the ECP, knowing that that decision could result in disciplinary action. In the nine
months since we began our ministry together, St. Luke’s has seen an increase in attendance,
membership, and participation. Something new is happening at St. Luke’s. God grant our
church the grace to do something new as well.
14
When I was in seminary, I took flying lessons, and every Saturday
morning, I would take a break from my studies, climb into a little
two-seat Cessna, take off from the Columbus, Ohio airport, and
practice. I had to learn a little bit about physics to understand the
dynamics of flying. I learned that planes are quite literally sucked
up into the air because the air pressure is lower on top of the wing
than it is below. That pressure is like a magnet that holds the plane
in the air—a force from above that facilitates travel from one place
to another.
When I read the stories of Cornelius and Peter in Acts 10, I
have the sense that both men were being drawn out of their worlds,
pulled up out of the contexts they knew, and held aloft by a wind
that was as mysterious as it was determined. Cornelius, the gentile, the Roman, the soldier, was about to meet Peter, the rock, the
disciple, the fallible, the Church.
Without the physics of the Holy Spirit, the two would not have
met. The worlds that separated them were hardly permeable. There
were too many solid barriers to overcome. There were centuries
of treasured scriptural rules that made this barrier clear and firm.
Ancient prophets knew what would happen if Jews ate with Gentiles. The lines might get blurred. Kosher rules helped to resist
the culture of “other nations.” Knowing how to label what is pure
and what is profane, knowing Scripture like Peter did, resisting the
cultural lure to eat outside the lines—these were the ways the community of faith remained faithful.
Certainly both Peter and Cornelius knew this. Yet in chapter 10,
the story moves forward, step by step, with neither man sure what
will happen next. By the time Peter reaches Cornelius’ home, he
has taken off. He’s lifted beyond his tradition by the magnetic pull
of Pentecost and he speaks the Gospel that will carry good news to
the ends of the earth: “Surely God shows no partiality, but in every
nation anyone who fears God and does what is right is acceptable.”
Once again he tells the saving story of Jesus. While he is speaking, the Holy Spirit comes upon Cornelius. On Gentiles! On the
uncircumcised!
They spoke, they listened, and something new occurred. In
Spirit, in water, and in Word, Peter and Cornelius become the
first brothers to stand together in a new community where only the
presence of the Spirit is enough to make the church. Let that be
enough for us, too.
Devotion for Friday
Acts 10 What God Has Made Clean, You
Must Not Call Profane
15
I do my best, most
authentic ministry when
I can be a whole person,
not compartmentalizing,
not keeping secrets.
Jen Nagel and Jane McBride
Jen Nagel
W
hat did I learn in Sunday school? Probably the same as you. Jesus loves me. Grace is
a gift. God calls everyone to ministry. It was a Sunday school teacher at Our Savior’s
Lutheran Church in New Ulm, Minnesota, who first spoke my call aloud. She asked
me, an eighth grader, “Have you ever thought about being a pastor?”
As we all know, church is often more complicated than Sunday school, and the workings of
vocation in our lives are more mysterious and winding than we imagine. In 1998, as I finished
seminary, I found myself falling in love with a woman named Jane. Suddenly, I was no longer
the “good Lutheran girl” I had assumed myself to be. We tried hard not to love one another. But
in the end, the Sunday school truths won out. As we affirmed in our public service of blessing,
the love we share is a gift of grace in our lives. I am called, not only to serve the church, but also
and equally to love Jane. Together, we are called to the sacred work of being family.
Early on in loving Jane, it became clear that I do my best, most authentic ministry when
I can be a whole person, not compartmentalizing, not keeping secrets. I came out—and still
do—in the context of relationships: to my family and friends; to my bishop; to the candidacy
committee, who in 2000 approved me “pending a change in church policy”; to the congregations and communities I served as a student in Chicago, northern Minnesota, and Ann Arbor;
and now to the community I serve as a minister in Minneapolis. Amid these conversations,
I encounter, again and again, the grace of an incarnate God who takes flesh among us in the
many ways we love one another.
Today I serve as Pastoral Minister at Salem English Lutheran Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota, an urban, transformational congregation. Though I’ve been here for four years, and
we are only now talking about call and ordination, I serve them like a pastor through preaching
and teaching, welcoming and loving, and sharing the sacraments. Since the ELCA roster is not
currently open to people like me, I am on the roster of the Extraordinary Candidacy Project
(ECP). I serve as a leader in our synod and beyond. Jane serves Falcon Heights United Church
of Christ as Associate Pastor and together we will soon welcome a baby through adoption. I
trust that together with our communities we’ll be able to teach this little one the Sunday school
truths to which we cling. Jesus loves us all. Grace is a gift. Yes, we are called by God.
Thank God!
16
I belong in ministry because
I have been called.
I am Lutheran, so I have
stayed in the ELCA. We belong
to one another. My prayer is
that we will all soon
awaken to that truth.
(back) Jane Lien, Mary Albing (front) Dan Albing, Hannah Albing
Pastor
Mary Albing
O
n the drift prairies of southwestern Minnesota where I was raised, you can literally see
the shape of the wind as it furrows fields and bends tree tops. People spoke the truth
as plainly as they could and accepted the consequences. So when I awoke to the painful
realization that I am lesbian, I knew that I could not hide it.
I was 40, serving a congregation with my husband, an ELCA pastor. We agonized over our
choices. We had two teenage children and a hundred other reasons not to tell the truth. But
clearly the way to deal with this thing we had never expected or asked for was to face it. The
alternative was to lose our integrity. We mapped out our “coming out.” We told family and our
bishop, David Olson. We divorced and remained friends. Our children, now 21 and 23 years
old, are bright, loving, adults, in worship weekly, and don’t want their church to discriminate.
I became a chaplain to cancer patients. Meanwhile, Lutheran Church of Christ the
Redeemer in Minneapolis, Minnesota, changed their constitution to enable them to call a
partnered gay person and asked me to interview. On my mobility forms, I was asked about
complying with Vision and Expectations. By this time I was in a relationship with Jane, to whom I
had publicly promised love and fidelity. So I checked the “no” box, explaining that I believed
it was narrowly and unjustly applied to gay people—if Vision and Expectations were applied consistently, there’d be no clergy left on the roster. This brought about the first of many meetings
with Bishop Craig Johnson. When Redeemer called me, he decided I should go “on leave from
call.” I remain on leave from call. Redeemer’s pulpit is listed as “vacant.” I joke with parishioners that this is truer some Sundays than others.
Redeemer is flourishing, growing thirty percent since 2003. I was elected dean of the South
Conference of the Minneapolis Area Synod and serve on the Partnership Table. I have voice
in synod meetings, but cannot vote. After three years on leave from call, pastors are officially
removed from the roster. In 2006, the Minneapolis Area Synod council requested extension
of my on-leave status. It was tabled by the conference of bishops. Our synod supported my
request, passing a resolution to extend the on-leave-from-call status beyond three years for
clergy in same-gendered relationships of fidelity. I remain on the roster, but tenuously.
I belong in the church because I am a baptized child of God. I belong in ministry because
I have been called. I am Lutheran, so I have stayed in the ELCA. We belong to one another.
My prayer is that we will all soon awaken to that truth.
17
However, I am painfully
aware that none of this
discernment and affirmation
will matter under current
ELCA policies if I happen to
fall in love.
Tim Feiertag and his parents, Ingrid and Paul Feiertag
Tim Feiertag
M
y father is a fourth-generation Lutheran pastor. With that sort of family history, I
grew up knowing that a call to ministry might be in my future. However, seeing the
life of a parish pastor through my little-child eyes, I knew that I didn’t want that life
for myself. And so, I left for college not knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up.
At Valparaiso University, I felt led to social work as a way to use my gifts in service to the
needs of the world. This was also the time of my growing realization that I am a gay man.
Knowing that pastoral ministry was not a place for a gay man reconfirmed my conviction that
the pastor’s life was not for me.
I began my adult life in Kansas City, Missouri, and soon found an ELCA church home and
a career in child welfare. Among my other interests, I discovered a love for church politics,
becoming a regular voting member at synod assemblies and volunteering with Lutherans
Concerned/North America, first as a regional director and later as co-chair of this ministry
organization.
I was connected to the church and was gainfully employed, using the gifts that God had given
me. This should have been the sign that I had successfully followed the path that God had set
for me. And yet, I continued to feel that quiet nagging which I had been ignoring since
childhood: “So, will you grow up to be a pastor just like your dad?”
I decided to strike a bargain with God. I agreed to open myself up to the possibility of
seminary if God agreed to stop the nagging. I began by asking people of faith who knew me
well what they thought about me becoming a pastor. I hoped I would hear that I was already
doing the work that God intended me to do or that this wasn’t the time for someone like me
to consider entering seminary. Instead, what I heard was that I would make a very good pastor.
Even people I didn’t know well seemed to affirm this by asking which church I pastored. My
bargain with God didn’t go quite like I’d hoped.
I have completed two years of studies at Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary. My sense
of call to Word and Sacrament ministry continues to grow, both through internal discernment
as well as through external affirmation, such as receiving a full tuition scholarship through the
ELCA’s Fund for Leaders in Mission. However, I am painfully aware that none of this
discernment and affirmation will matter under current ELCA policies if I happen to fall
in love.
18
Walter Bouman, one of my teachers at Trinity Lutheran
Seminary in Columbus, Ohio, always told his students that he
liked to read the end of a mystery novel first. For him, it made
reading the story better because he could enjoy the mastery of the
storyteller, appreciating the way the plot might twist and turn,
yet lead inexorably toward the moment when a-ha! the truth is
revealed. Apparent dead-ends in the narrative become vivid
markers that the story is on track. Seemingly insignificant conversations or descriptions are filled with the real truth of the story.
I couldn’t help but begin my study of Acts by turning to the last
verses of the last chapter. Paul has arrived in Rome, the center of
the imperial world, and we assume that Jesus’ promise will now
come true. The Living One is now alive in Rome, and the once
frightened band of disciples, more acquainted with failure than
success, have become witnesses to the ends of the earth. Peter has
experienced conversion in regards to those outside the tradition.
Paul, the persecutor of the church, is an apostle. The Gentiles are
listening. Rome is streaming to Paul’s home.
As is always the case with resurrection faith, the end of the story
is the beginning of the story.
It’s important to note that, even at the end of this apostolic
tale, all has not been solved. Paul is under house arrest, accused
by Jerusalem of ignoring the law and by Rome as a threat to order.
Many still refuse to believe that salvation has been born in Christ,
that the healing of the entire cosmos had been God’s plan from the
very beginning. Paul’s own end, his martyrdom, would soon begin.
There is no mention of a flourishing church, no sign that the
contentiousness of being the Christian family was over. There
is not even any sign that the return of Christ, promised at the
beginning of the book, is near.
We never quite know how our stories will end, yet I take great
comfort in reading Acts backward. Fear, uncertainty, blindness,
theological dissent, judges, councils, shipwrecks, imprisonment,
and refusals of grace never stop the forward progression of the
church into its fulfillment. The challenges simply become the
signposts that God’s power to breathe life is always more powerful
than our human capacity to suffocate ourselves.
Whether we change the policy or not, there are likely many who
arrive at this last day of this assembly afraid or in pain, worried
about unity or imprisoned by delay. Whatever we accomplish at this
assembly, it will no doubt serve as an end and as a beginning. It will
provide us the opportunity to continue to be Christ’s church in all
its resurrecting power and its terrifying intransigence. Yet just as
the author of Acts did, we can give ourselves over to the power of
a moving Spirit, knowing that Christ’s end is our end and his
beginning our beginning.
Devotion for Saturday
Acts 28:23-31 Paul Preaches in Rome
19
There are too many
wrong answers
being given in regard to
lesbian, gay, bisexual,
and transgender people
and the biblical witness.
Pastor
Richard Foster
A
Chinese proverb says, “A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer; it sings because
it has a song.” After forty years in the ministry of Word and Sacrament, I am about to
go into retirement. Do I have answers? Not many, after all the years of seminary and
theological reading, conversation, sermonizing, teaching, listening, and praying. My piles of
books are being divided like sheep and goats at the last days here at Stanford University. Half of
my life has consisted of dragging around books that haven’t given me insight or answers since I
put them high on the library shelf. I will, however, take my poets with me, the singers of songs!
Walt Whitman, Robert Frost, Robinson Jeffers, S. Eliot, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Elizabeth
Bishop, will sing for me, Luther and Lorca can join me in retirement, as will Shakespeare, a
good prayer book, and the Sacred Scriptures.
When all is said and done, life is about the poetry of the Spirit, which groans within us
and within all of creation as we and the suffering cosmos wait for the final appearing and the
fullness of our adoption into the Reconciling One. Then God will be all in all. And until that
day, those of us who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender will have to keep climbing stairs,
pulpits, stages, and mountains for the sake of those who will follow us and inherit a world
where God’s justice, compassion, and affirmation of all people will see us welcomed into the
inclusive ministry for which Jesus lived and died. To do less, to cower as some of us must in
the shadows, is only to perpetuate the current unacceptable situation in so many parts of the
Lutheran World communion.
There are too many wrong answers being given in regard to lesbian, gay, bisexual,
and transgender people (LGBT) and the biblical witness. Too many sad songs are being
written as many of our young LGBT poets and singers of songs and prophets leave a church
that seems often to be concerned with bottom-line issues rather than frontline issues. This
tragedy demands a courageous, outspoken, and righteous response from our leadership.
I rejoice in the forty years of ministry, which I have usually enjoyed. To be a pastor to young
people at the University who struggle with their own issues of sexual identity and to be honored
as someone to whom they have come seeking counsel and support, has been the greatest joy to
me. I believe being gay myself, and openly so since 1963 when “outed” by my own college
pastor after my private confession to him, has opened doorways of trust and understanding in
my work these forty years. This has been especially the case during the last eight years of
ministry as the Episcopal Lutheran Campus Pastor at Stanford University in Palo Alto,
California. Sing on. Not because we always have the answers, but because we have the song.
20
Called to Serve
T
he following is a list of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender pastors, associates in
ministry, seminarians, and candidates approved for ordination who have agreed to be
introduced to the ELCA at its 2007 churchwide assembly. Included here is each minister’s year of ordination, consecration/commissioning, or graduation from seminary; the location where each is currently serving or last served; and the status of rostering with either the
Extraordinary Candidacy Project (ECP), with the ELCA, or both.
In the ELCA, a person who is “rostered” is approved by the ELCA for ministerial service,
either lay or ordained. Currently, the ELCA requires that its congregations call their ministers from its roster. The ECP is a Lutheran organization that credentials openly gay, lesbian,
bisexual, and transgender seminarians, candidates, and ordained or commissioned ministers
who are preparing for professional vocations in independent Lutheran parishes and congregations of the ELCA. Because ELCA policies currently preclude the rostered service of ministers
in same-gender relationships, the ECP provides a means for these ministers to live out their
calling. For more information, see www.extraordinarycandidacyproject.org.
Many of the ministers included in the following list are actively rostered, whether it be on
the ELCA roster, the ECP roster, or that of another denomination. Others included here are
separated from the ELCA roster in one way or another, through removal, resignation, retirement (sometimes early), postponement, leave, being dropped from candidacy, or are awaiting call—all since 2005. There are many others who have experienced such separation before
2005 who are not listed here. The Missing Project, described on page 24 of this booklet, is an
attempt to enumerate these ministers.
Pastor Jonathan Abernethy-Deppe, ordained 1974,
serving Episcopal Diocese of CA, San Francisco,
CA, ECP Active, ELCA Removed 1992.
Pastor Mary Albing, ordained 1988, serving
Lutheran Church of Christ the Redeemer,
Minneapolis, MN, Minneapolis Area Synod,
ELCA On Leave From Call.
Pastor Richard Andersen, ordained 1986, serving
St. Paul-Reformation Church, St. Paul, MN, St.
Paul Area Synod, ECP Active, ELCA Postponed.
Candidate Jodi Barry, awaiting ordination,
graduated United Theological Seminary of the
Twin Cities 2001, serving Mercy Hospital as
chaplain and Grace University Lutheran as youth
director, Coon Rapids and Minneapolis, MN,
Minneapolis Area Synod, ECP Approved.
Pastor Jim Bischoff, ordained 1976, last served
Church of All Saints, San Marcos, CA, an
independent Lutheran congregation, ECP
Active, ELCA Removed 2002.
Pastor Jim Boline, ordained 1989, serving St. Paul
Lutheran Church, Santa Monica, CA, Southwest
California Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Dick Bouton, ordained 1986, last served
Bethesda and Immanuel Lutheran Church,
Bayfield and Cornucopia, WI, Northwest
Wisconsin Synod, ELCA Removed 2005.
Pastor Daphne Burt, ordained 1987, serving St.
Paul’s School, Concord, NH, New England
Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Erik Christensen, ordained 2006, St. Luke’s
of Logan Square, Chicago, IL, Metro Chicago
Synod, ECP Active.
Pastor Cindy Crane, ordained 1988, last served
Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd, Eau
Claire, WI, ECP Active, ELCA Resigned 1997.
Pastor Bruce Davidson, ordained 1974, serving as
Director of Lutheran Office of Governmental
Ministry in NJ, New Jersey Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Darin Easler, ordained 1998, serving as
Spiritual Care Coordinator and Bereavement
Coordinator, Heartland Hospice Services,
Conyers, GA, Georgia Synod, United Church of
Christ Active, ELCA Removed 2006.
Candidate Greg Egertson, awaiting ordination,
graduated Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary
in Berkeley, CA 1989, ECP Approved, ELCA
Postponed Pending Policy Change.
Seminarian Tim Feiertag, attending Pacific
Lutheran Seminary, ELCA Endorsed.
Pastor Richard Foster, ordained 1967, last served
Episcopal Lutheran Campus Ministry, Stanford
University, Palo Alto, CA, Sierra Pacific Synod,
ELCA Retired 2007.
21
Pastor Katrina Foster, ordained 1994, serving
Fordham Evangelical Lutheran Church, Bronx,
NY, Metropolitan NY Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastoral Minister Brenda Froisland, awaiting
ordination, graduated Luther Seminary St. Paul,
MN 2005, serving Bethel Evangelical Lutheran
Church, Minneapolis, MN, Minneapolis
Area Synod, ELCA Postponed Pending Policy
Change.
Pastor Brad Froslee, ordained 2004, serving St.
Luke Presbyterian Church, Minnetonka, MN,
Minneapolis Area Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Ruth Frost, ordained 1990, serving Hospice
of the Twin Cities, Plymouth, MN, Minneapolis
Area Synod, ECP Active.
Pastor Phillip Gaines, ordained 1996, serving
Georgetown Lutheran, Washington, DC, Metro
Washington DC Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Robert Goldstein, ordained 1975, serving
St. Francis Lutheran Church, San Francisco,
CA, Sierra Pacific Synod, ECP Active, ELCA On
Leave From Call.
Pastor Dawn Gregg, ordained 1991, serving interim
ministry, Northwest Ohio and Oregon Synods,
ECP Active, ELCA On Leave From Call.
Candidate Lura Groen, awaiting ordination,
graduated Lutheran Theological Seminary at
Philadelphia 2006, ECP Approved, ELCA
Entrance Denied.
Pastor Nate Gruel, ordained 1972, last served St.
James Lutheran, Logansport, IN, Lutheran
Church–Missouri Synod, ECP Active, ELCA
Removed 1979.
Pastor Terry Hagensen, ordained 1992, serving as
Chaplain for Hospice of the Red River Valley,
Mayville and Fargo, ND, Eastern North Dakota
Synod, ECP Active, ELCA Removed.
Pastor Susan Halvor, ordained 2000, serving
hospital chaplaincy in Anchorage, AK, Alaska
Synod, ELCA On Leave From Call.
Pastor Robyn Hartwig, ordained 1999, last
served Lutheran Church of Our Redeemer,
Sacramento, CA, Sierra Pacific Synod, ECP
Active, ELCA On Leave From Call 2007.
Pastor Martin Hauser, ordained 1978, serving
Grace & St. Paul’s, New York, NY, Metro New
York Synod, ELCA Active.
Candidate Jean Hay, awaiting ordination, graduated
Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN 2006, ELCA
Approved Pending Policy Change.
Pastor William Heisley, ordained 1980, serving
Mount Olive Lutheran Church, Minneapolis,
MN, Minneapolis Area Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Anita Hill, ordained 2001, serving St.
Paul-Reformation Lutheran Church, St. Paul,
MN, Saint Paul Area Synod, ECP Active, ELCA
Postponed Pending Policy Change.
Pastor Dan Hooper, ordained 1974, serving
Hollywood Lutheran, Los Angeles, CA,
Southwest California Synod, ECP Active, ELCA
Removed 1991.
22
Seminarian Matthew James, attending Lutheran
Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, ECP
Seminarian, ELCA Seminarian.
Pastor Jeff Johnson, ordained 1990, serving
University Lutheran Chapel of Berkeley,
Berkeley, CA, Sierra Pacific Synod, ECP Active.
Pastor John Kauffman, 1980, serving Christ the
Shepherd, Altadeena, CA, Southwest California
Synod, ELCA Active.
Candidate Steve Keiser, awaiting ordination,
graduated from Lutheran Theological Seminary
at Philadelphia 1999, serving Lutheran Church
of the Holy Communion, Philadelphia, PA,
Southeast Penn. Synod, ECP Approved, ELCA
Withdrew From Candidacy Pending Policy
Change.
Seminarian Margaret Kelly, attending Luther
Seminary, CPE Intern, University of MN,
Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, Minneapolis,
MN, ECP Endorsed, ELCA Endorsed 2006.
Candidate Lionel Ketola, awaiting ordination,
serving long-term care chaplaincy in Ontario,
Canada, ECP Approved, Evangelical Lutheran
Church in Canada Removed 1988.
Pastor Wayne Knockel, ordained 2000, last served
Bethlehem Lutheran Church, Lansing, MI,
Lower Michigan Synod, ELCA Resigned 2006.
Pastor William Knott, ordained 1979, serving
Abiding Savior Lutheran, Fort Lauderdale, FL,
Florida Bahamas Synod, Episcopal Church-USA
Active, ELCA Resigned 1994.
Pastor Robert Kriesat, ordained 1965, last served
Gloria Dei Lutheran, Chatham, NJ, New Jersey
Synod, ELCA Retired 2005.
Pastor Gary LeCroy, ordained 1991, serving St Paul
Lutheran Church, Teaneck, NJ, New Jersey
Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Betsy Lee, ordained 1990, serving an
Episcopal congregation in Iowa, Southeast Iowa
Synod, Episcopal Church of the USA Active,
ELCA On Leave from Call 2005.
Pastor Jim Lokken, ordained 1959, last served St.
Francis Lutheran, San Franciso, CA, Sierra
Pacific Synod, ELCA Deceased 2006.
Pastor Barbara Lundblad, ordained 1980, serving
Union Theological Seminary and Advent
Lutheran Church, New York City, NY, Metro
New York Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Jennifer Mason, ordained 1991, last served
Central City Lutheran Mission, San Bernardino,
CA, ECP Active, ELCA Removed 2005.
Pastor Patrick McGuire, ordained 1995, serving
Prince of Peace Lutheran, Chicago Heights, IL,
Metro Chicago Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Ross Merkel, ordained 1978, serving St. Paul
Lutheran Church, Oakland, CA, Sierra Pacific
Synod, ECP Active, ELCA Removed 1994.
Pastor Gary Mills, ordained 1984, serving as
Executive Asst. to the Bishop, New York, NY,
Metro New York Synod, ELCA Active.
Seminarian Connie Monson, attending Lutheran
Theological Southern Seminary, Columbia, SC,
Diaconal Candidate Pursuing Endorsement.
Pastor Gladys Moore, ordained 1984, serving
Mt. Holyoke College, South Hadley, MA, New
England Synod, ELCA On Leave From Call.
Pastoral Minister Jen Nagel, awaiting ordination,
graduated Univ. of Chicago Divinity School
1998, further courses at Lutheran School
of Theology at Chicago 1999, serving Salem
English Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, MN,
Minneapolis Area Synod, ECP Approved, ELCA
Approved Pending Policy Change.
Pastor Pieter Oberholzer, ordained 1978, serving
Inclusive and Affirming Ministries, Cape Town,
South Africa, ECP Active.
Pastor Ned O’Donnell, ordained 1993, serving
Vitas Hospice Care, Alemeda County, Sierra
Pacific Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Vicki Pedersen, ordained 1985, serving
Lutheran Homes, Muscatine, IA, ELCA On
Leave From Call, Not Available for Call 2006.
Pastor David Peters, ordained 1971, serving
Atonement Lutheran Church, Sacramento, CA,
Sierra Pacific Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Arlo Peterson, ordained 1974, serving
Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, Key West, FL,
Florida/Bahamas Synod, ECP Active, ELCA
Removed 1999.
Pastor Nathan Pipho, ordained 2002, serving Good
Shepherd Lutheran Church, North Quincy, MA,
New England Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Dale Poland, ordained 1991, serving
HospiceCare of Boulder and Broomfield
Counties, Boulder, CO, ECP Active, ELCA
Resigned 2002.
Pastor Jane Ralph, ordained 1992, serving as
Board Co-Chair for Lutheran Lesbian and Gay
Ministries, San Francisco, CA, ECP Active.
Pastor Dawn Roginski, ordained 2007, serving
St. Francis Lutheran Church, San Francisco,
CA, Sierra Pacific Synod, ECP Active, ELCA
Postponed.
Pastor Megan Rohrer, ordained 2006, serving as
Director of Welcome Ministry with call from
a consortium of ELCA congregations: Christ,
HerChurch (Ebenezer), St. Mary and St.
Martha, San Francisco, CA, Sierra Pacific Synod,
ECP Active, ELCA Resigned from Candidacy
Process (in SD) Pending Policy Change.
Steven Rosebrock, ordained 1990, last served
International Church in Copenhagen, Denmark,
ECP Active, ELCA Resigned 1999.
Pastor Donn Rosenauer, ordained 1968, served
parishes in ND, MN, NB, and WA, ECP Active,
ELCA Resigned 2005.
Candidate Jen Rude, awaiting ordination,
gradauted Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley,
CA 2005, serving Resurrection Lutheran and
The Night Ministry, Chicago, IL, Metro Chicago
Synod, ECP Approved, ELCA Postponed.
Pastor Steve Sabin, ordained 1985, serving Christ
Lutheran, San Francisco, CA, Sierra Pacific
Synod, ECP Active, ELCA Removed 1998.
Pastor Greg Schaefer, ordained 1985, serving St.
Matthew’s, North Hollywood, CA, Southwest
California Synod, ELCA On Leave From Call.
Pastor Bradley Schmeling, ordained 1989, serving
St. John, Atlanta, GA, Southeastern Synod,
ELCA Removed 2007.
Associate in Ministry Mark Sedio, consecrated
1980, serving Central Lutheran Church,
Minneapolis, MN, Minneapolis Area Synod,
ELCA Removed 2006.
Pastor, CPE Supervisor Kelli Shepard, ordained
1995, serving Banner Good Samaritan Medical
Center, Phoenix, AZ, Grand Canyon Synod,
ECP Active, ELCA Removed 2002.
Pastor Donna Simon, ordained 2000, serving
Abiding Peace Lutheran Church, North Kansas
City, MO, Central States Synod, ECP Active,
ELCA Postponed.
Pastor Ruth Snyder, ordained 1980, serving St.
Stephens-Bethlehem UCC, Buffalo, NY, United
Church of Christ Active, ELCA Resigned 2006.
Pastor Sharon Stalkfleet, ordained 2002, serving
Lutheran Ministry to Nursing Homes with
call from Resurrection, St. Paul, and Trinity
Lutheran Churches in Oakland, and Trinity
Lutheran in Alameda, CA, Sierra Pacific Synod,
ECP Active, ELCA Postponed.
Candidate Lisa Stenmark, awaiting ordination,
graduated from Theological Union 1993 and
Vanderbilt University 1998, Center for Theology
and the Natural Sciences, ECP Approved.
Pastor Dale Truscott, ordained 1970, last served
Holy Faith Church, Saline, MI, Southeast
Michigan Synod, ELCA Retired 2006.
Pastor Philip Trzynka, ordained 1986, serving
Trinity Lower East Side Lutheran Parish, New
York City, NY, Metro NY Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Jay Wiesner, ordained 2004, serving
Bethany Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, MN,
Minneapolis Area Synod, ECP Active.
Candidate Jay Wilson, awaiting ordination,
graduated Luther Seminary St. Paul 2006, served
as intern at Lutheran Church of Our Redeemer,
Sacramento, CA, Sierra Pacific Synod, ECP
Approved, ELCA Endorsement Revoked 2005.
Pastor Paul Winters, ordained 1968, last served
interim ministry in Northwest Ohio Synod,
ELCA Retired 1997.
Pastor Cindy Witt, ordained 1985, last served
United Campus Ministry, Riverside, CA, ECP
Active, ELCA Removed 1997.
Pastor Jeffrey Ziegler, ordained 1992, serving
Reformation Lutheran Church, Philadelphia,
PA, Southeastern PA Synod, ELCA Active.
Pastor Phyllis Zillhart, ordained 1990, serving
Abbott NW Hospital Chaplaincy, Minneapolis,
MN, Minneapolis Area Synod, ECP Active.
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The Missing Project
The Missing Project
The Missing Project is a study conducted by Rev. Vicki Pedersen.
It seeks to gain an accounting of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and
transgender persons (LGBT) who are missing from ELCA
rosters because of denominational policy that bans partnered
LGBT persons from rostered service in the church. This policy is
contained in the documents referred to as Vision and Expectations and
Definitions and Guidelines for Discipline.
Although this research is not yet complete, a preliminary
summary of findings is provided below.
How many LGBT persons are known to have gone missing over
the years from rostered ministries in the ELCA because of its
policy? This is not an easy question to answer definitively. The
ELCA and its predecessor bodies keep no public records detailing
why persons are removed, resigned, or allowed to drop from its
rosters. Moreover, some LGBT persons keep their sexual identity
secret as they exit the roster, hiding their true reasons for leaving. Some move to serve other denominations. Whether they have
served for a time or never were able to follow their call into
ministry, some LGBT persons become disillusioned with the
church and no longer want to have anything to do with it as an
institution.
The preliminary findings outlined below only partially represent
those who have gone missing from ELCA rosters. The full
number is certainly larger than what is reported here. The data
come from 116 participants in the study. These 116 persons have
been removed, resigned, denied, or in other ways have been
restricted in their ministry.
The information gathered for The Missing Project provides
an estimate of the number of LGBT people whose faithful
participation in the full life of the church has been excluded. It
reveals the cost to the church when LGBT ministers are denied
the opportunity to serve as rostered pastors, associates in ministry,
and diaconal ministers.
LGBT Ministers Removed/Resigned/Restricted Candidates Never Rostered Current Seminarians Total Participants in Project Years Served Estimated Years Lost Congregations Served Estimated Congregations Not Served 24
57
50
9 116
808
1,102
201
145
A Place Within My Walls © 2007, goodsoil
Devotions by Rev. Bradley E. Schmeling
Layout and Design by Mark L. Olson
Edited by Tim Fisher
Cover Photo by Christine Hurney
For more information on goodsoil, please visit
www.goodsoil.org
For more information on the Extraordinary Candidacy Project, please visit
www.extraordinarycandidacyproject.org
For more information on the Missing Project, please visit
www.lcna.org/lcna_news/missing.shtm
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