Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries

Guest blog by Asher O’Callaghan

It’s been about 4 years since I came out as transgender. I’ll always remember the first vigil I participated in as a part of the International Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDoR). This day has been observed annually on November 20^th since 1998 to honor the memory of those whose lives have been lost in acts of anti-trans* violence during the past year.

I had only been out for less than a month when I attended my first vigil and the experience was jarring. The event was held at a church building in a warm room with lots of candles and we sat in chairs forming concentric circles. As is typical at these vigils, each of the names of people who had been murdered was read. Even though I went into it aware of the heavy nature of the event, I was disturbed.

That year I was unsettled by several things I noticed about the names and people we were commemorating. Most of the people who had been lost that year were transwomen of color. We couldn’t pronounce many of the names. I will forever remember a comment my girlfriend made as we were driving home: “They butchered so many of the names.” It was true. Most of the people we were commemorating that year were from Central or South America. Yet most of the people gathered for the vigil (including me) were monolingual English speakers. I’m still glad the vigil was held, but the facilitators’ inability to correctly pronounce the names (and my own inability to do any better) spoke powerfully to me about how far my own experiences and privileges were from those of other trans* people around the world.

Transgender Day of Remembrance is important because we still live in a world where hate crimes happen based on gender identity and gender expression. The most basic of all human rights is the right to live. While coming out certainly did feel scary for me, this vigil and the others I’ve participated in since have been reality checks. Though I may worry about my right to marry, or the prejudices I may occasionally encounter, I feel pretty safe in public on a daily basis.

Some progress has been made towards trans* equality. Much has yet to be made.  Surely God grieves over this world in which some of God’s children are not safe to live their lives as themselves. We are all called “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God” (Mic 6:8). For me, part of this call to ministry has meant bringing my whole self and all my experiences into the ministry I do: my gender identity, my sexuality, my cultural background, my privileges. At times this call to ministry has been a call to activism. At other times, it’s been a call to listen to the experiences of others. Sometimes a call to ministry means remembering to “weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15).

If you’re interested in participating in a local vigil, you can find one nearby here: http://tdor.info.

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What does the asterisk stand for in trans*? The asterisk is meant to symbolize that the term is being used as an umbrella to include a broad diversity of gender identities. So this term is meant to include not only people who identify as transgender or transsexual, but also people who identify as genderqueer, non-binary, gender fluid, third gender (just as a few examples). To read more on this, click here.

Asher is a faithfully fabulous bisexual transguy. He’s a Proclaim member, a candidate for first call, and is serving on ELM’s Board of Directors. In December, he’ll be graduating from Luther Seminary. Asher is excited to have been assigned to the Sierra Pacific Synod. He’s from the gloriously gorgeous land of Colorado and looks forward to spending lots of time doing outdoorsy things in another lovely part of the country.

By Jen Rude, ELM program director

Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.  1 Peter 4:10

They really needed to hear what I had to say. And I needed to hear their stories. Last week I visited The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia and The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg. 

On both campuses I was able to meet with students, staff, and faculty – to develop relationships, share resources, and listen to folks who are committed to celebrating and lifting up the gifts of LGBTQ people called to ministry.  It’s clear things are shifting and becoming more open, but there continue to be significant challenges for LGBTQ people called to ministry.  Challenges I heard about include finding an internship congregation, coming out in a conservative congregation and wondering if you’ll lose your call, finding field ed and clinical pastoral education sites that are supportive of LGBTQ students, and waiting longer than straight candidates for first call and wondering if there will be a place to serve at all.

Whether folks knew about ELM or were new to our ministry, there was an overwhelming sense that what we offer to LGBTQ ministry leaders is a lifeline and a source of hope.  Several straight allies came to conversations on campus and said both that they didn’t quite realize some of the challenges their LGBTQ peers were facing to follow their call and that the gifts these LGBTQ leaders bring are desperately needed in our church.  

Through our work at ELM we are supporting and affirming LGBTQ people called to ministry, and helping the church live into a more inclusive vision of the diverse community of God, so that all the gifts God gives us are shared in service of the church and world.

I am honored to be able to connect with folks all over the church on behalf of ELM.  What we are doing is important work and we need to keep sharing the good news!

Thank you for your support that helps make these connections possible.

By Rev. Jen Rude, ELM program director.  As a preschooler Jen’s predicted profession was “Cruise Director.”  She is thankful that she gets to use many of those cruise directing gifts in service of ELM.  And she feels old when people don’t know who Julie McCoy is.

I felt like I was in the junior high school lunchroom again.

Remember that nervous feeling as you reach the end of the cafeteria line and then turn to face a room full of tables filled with people talking and laughing. Where do you sit? Will you make a new friend? Will you trip on your way across the room?

This feeling came up last month when ELM program director Jen Rude and I attended the ELCA Conference of Bishops. In fact, it happens several times a year for me when I attend the ELCA Conference of Bishops and ELCA Church Council meetings. I don’t mean to suggest that anyone throws a milk carton at me or slides their books over so I don’t sit down next to them (okay, that did happen once). But the unavoidable sense that I’m on my own comes up time and time again.

People do often ask, “Why are you here? The 2009 decisions were ages ago. Why do you keep coming back?”

Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries made an organizational commitment in 2009 to be present at these meetings in order to be a visible witness of LGBTQ rostered leaders, candidates, and seminarians in the church. Over the years, I have developed wonderful relationships with Bishops, Church Council members, and Churchwide staff who, like me, are committed to living out God’s work. I have witnessed powerful conversations about faith, the future of the church, and spirituality. I have deepened my own sense of compassion for those different than me. On a couple of occasions, I have been invited to speak to address questions about LGBTQ rostered leaders. At other times, I have experienced again the deep, biting, pain of exclusion that caused me to step away from the Lutheran church years ago. It has been a deeply challenging and spiritually enriching part of my work.

There have been times when I have been one of a handful of openly LGBTQ people in a room full of people discussing the future of LGBTQ people in our church. It is most often the case that my colleagues from ReconcilingWorks and I sit at the back of the room and observe conversations about our community happen around us. It’s true that the people having the conversation are the appointed and elected leaders of the church and we are visitors. It is also true that without even our silent presence, many of these conversations would likely be very different.

ELM invests in this work. Caring ELM donors contribute funds to pay for my travel so I can be present at these meetings. We believe that it is vital that we are present when the church invests time in talking about matters impacting LGBTQ rostered leaders and seminarians.

I am extremely grateful for the surprising and new conversations I’ve had with the leaders of our church. I have not forgotten a single time that a person looked up and smiled as I crossed the room and invited me to join their table.

When I think back on junior high, I often remember some of my darkest and most devastating days. I also know that I learned who I was in those days, and have never forgotten those who valued me for who I was.

I give thanks that I am able to do this work. I’m heading off to attend the ELCA Church Council this coming weekend and invite your prayers for the Council and others engaged in the work and life of the ELCA. And the next time you see someone looking for a place to sit, consider the good that might come from you offering a smile and the chair next to you!

Amalia Vagts, Executive Director of ELM, promises not to steal your cookie if you sit next to her at lunch.

By Jen Rude, program director

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.   Romans 12:2

Is your congregation open to LGBTQ pastors?

Do you need help beginning that conversation?

Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries is thrilled to be sharing a new resource with you – Enrich & Transform: Welcoming LGBTQ Candidates into the Call Process.

ELM’s Ministry Engagement Team has been working hard gathering wisdom and insight from call committee members, LGBTQ pastors, synod staff, and bishops in an effort to develop a useable resource for call committees to become more open to the full diversity of gifts and people that God has called, including LGBTQ persons.  It’s inspiring, colorful, practical, and faithful.  And I’m going to keep this blog post short so you can get right to it.  Check it out HERE!  And help us get it out there – send it to a congregation looking for a new pastor in your area!

Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries’ wonderful friends made this resource possible through their contributions. Your continued support will help us identify and produce more tools for ministry. You make ministry happen!

By Rev. Jen Rude.  Jen is enriched and transformed by the bold and faithful people that are connected with Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries.  Today this especially includes all the voices and stories that are represented in this resource and the Ministry Engagement Team convener, Dr. Margaret Moreland, who was a champion on this project.

By Jen Rude, program director

And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.  Hebrews 10:24-25

This past Sunday, on a crisp but sunny autumn day in Chicago, a group of Proclaim members and their families gathered in the home of Rev. Michael Fick and his husband Charlie.   What a delight to be together, to catch up, to encourage each other, to talk about our work, our families, transitions, new adventures and more – all of this enriched by the delightful tastes of pumpkin and apples and other fall treats at our potluck.

As part of the evening, we shared briefly a few things that are going on in the Proclaim community and it’s exciting! This month Proclaim members are connecting as part of a book group reading Patrick Cheng’s Rainbow Theology: Bridging Race, Sexuality and Spirit, gathering to talk about Advent worship planning, and hosting conversations for those navigating being a single seminarian or rostered leader.

Although the annual Proclaim retreat is the largest gathering of the Proclaim community, this year we’ve been trying to connect in person regionally as well.  Since a lot of the work we do together is via video and conference call or email it is always so nice to see each other in 3D.

Next month I’ll be in Philadelphia gathering with Proclaim members at the home of ELM board member Jim Kowalski and Bruce Jervis, as well as connecting with students at Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia and Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg.  Your support helps make these connections possible as we seek to support and affirm LGBTQ rostered leaders, candidates, and seminarians as they faithfully serve God in our church and world by proclaiming God’s love and provoking one another to love and good deeds.

By Rev. Jen Rude.  Jen loves a good potluck and for this Proclaim gathering made a delightful avocado-lime purple cabbage and apple slaw (okay, so mostly her partner Deb made it).  She also delights in the funny mid-western tradition where no one will take the last piece/bite/scoop/slice during a meal.  

by Jen Rude, program director

A Monday morning email inbox.  You know the feeling, right?  But sometimes there are surprises.  Yesterday morning I got a delightful email from Rev. Amy Current.  Amy is the the Dean for Vocation at Wartburg Theological Seminary and she is also an ELM Seminary Advocate.  Through Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries’ Candidacy Accompaniment program we have connected with a staff or faculty member at each of the 8 ELCA seminaries and several divinity schools to serve in this role. They serve as allies for LGBTQ students in the seminary process, as a connector between ELM and the campus, and as people who are committed to the educational and vocational development of LGBTQ students.

In this Monday morning email Amy was letting me know that she had shared ELM’s Candidacy Guide with an LGBTQ student on campus. This student then shared the resource with their candidacy committee and now the whole committee is meeting together to discuss how they can be the best advocate for this student and for other LGBTQ students in the candidacy process in their synod.  The ripples are spreading.

It’s a wonderful thing to think about all the little (and big!) pockets of goodness that exist seeking to support and affirm LGBTQ leaders in our church, and to celebrate their unique gifts.  In fact, it’s extraordinary! If you are reading this blog, it’s because we consider YOU one of these pockets of extraordinary goodness.

by Rev. Jen Rude

The little pockets of extraordinary goodness that Jen celebrates today include – warm fall sunshine in Chicago, the now 168 members of Proclaim, winter squash and fall apples, all those who worked to put together ELM’s resource for candidacy committees, and the special people who read the ELM blog –  all the way through to the end.

by Jean Hay

Today (September 23^rd) is bisexual visibility day.  And so we have a guest blog from Jean Hay, who is a Proclaim member, a first call candidate in the ELCA, and the mother of a bisexual daughter.

I believe God knew I was gay when calling me to ministry, but I didn’t know at that time. When I entered the candidacy process to become a Lutheran pastor,  I was married to a man and our children were in the later years of elementary school.

My (then) husband was a friend to me as I tried to work through this new self-understanding. He and I talked about it a lot, but of course we didn’t share this journey with our children.

But it’s not my story that I want to share with you right now. Rather, I’d like to share my children’s stories of self-discovery. They are both in their early twenties now and have agreed to let me share.

Our first discussion about affectional preferences centered around playground politics. My daughter, the older of the two, relayed a story about someone calling someone else gay as an insult. My son was born fabulously, flamingly, gay. He was too young to put words to his preference, but I wanted to ensure that, at the very least, time with family was a safe time for him to become himself. So, we talked about name-calling, and different ways of being family.

The real surprise for me in that particular conversation was the depth of my daughter’s attachment to hetero-normativity. When she blurted out “at least my monther’s not a lesbian,” I felt it was time to share with the children, that yes, in fact, that was the conclusion I had reached. Her mother is a lesbian.

Divorce, relocation, and economic upheaval followed. It was a tough time for my kids as they headed into adolescence. My daughter, always an avid reader, took comfort in books. She shared the book Luna with me. It is a sister’s story of her older brother’s struggle to become her true self. It is the story of a being family to a transgender sibling. My ex-husband was disturbed by the subject matter of the book. I was so proud of my daughter’s response when she said: “Look at my family, Dad, how can I not be an advocate?”

She had moved from surprise to acceptance to advocacy in the space of a year. She became a charter member of a Gay-Straight Alliance in her middle school. I think that being gay and gender queer can make a boy a target, and I thought it was fabulous that she was willing to be an outspoken ally for kids like her brother.

When she expressed an interest in girls, at first I thought it must have been about me.  I thought she must have been identifying with her custodial parent. Losing her dad was hard and he ensured it was a loss and not a transition to a new way of being family.

Just as she had expressed disbelief when I told her I was lesbian, I inwardly expressed disbelief that she was lesbian. I thought I was observing very straight-girl behavior in her. It simply didn’t register that she might be telling me that she was interested in both boys and girls. She started shaving her legs about the same time I stopped. Her friends were mostly other girls.  And  they giggled a lot and talked about girl-things that still baffle me.

I only started to understand when the number of awkward teen age girls following her home from school matched the number of awkward teenage boys doing the same.

On the one hand, I could explain to seminary classmates that being bisexual wasn’t an imaginary state of being that reflected an inability to decide. On the other, I applied this very definition to my own daughter. “It’s just a stage”, I thought. “She’ll grow out of it.”

Please don’t misunderstand.  As a parent, I just wanted my children to grow into their own authentic selves.

Have you heard about the coming out process sometimes being refered to as “bi now, gay later”? That was my route to self-understanding as I tried to reconcile my love for my husband and the growing realization that women caught my attention in a way that they don’t catch every woman’s attention.

Because it is not uncommon for a person to think they are bisexual as they transition from a hetreosexual self-understanding to a homosexual self-understanding, many people think bisexuality  is just a way to ease the transition.

My daughter seemed to make her self-discovery as “gay now, bi later.” Also about this same time in her life, she completed confirmation classes and “graduated” from Christian faith. Given that she had front row seats to my struggle in seminary when sexuality was the only thing people wanted to talk about (2002 -2006), it’s not surprising that she quit the church. My son was probably born to ministry as surely as was born queer, and she also witnessed his  interest in church life fade.

But she didn’t just quit the church, she stopped believing in God.

Did I mention that she was (and still is) an avid reader? In middle school, she read the (whole) Old Testament!   She wondered why  God was jealous and angry. And she decided that God was made in man’s image.

With all my education, with all of my own faith, I have not been able influence her understanding of the Old Testament or her atheism.

We still talk about faith.  We still talk about different ways of being in relationship (affectional preferences).

She teaches me what it means to be an atheist. She teaches me what it means to be bisexual. I’ve learned a lot from my daughter, like:  A person need not believe in order to talk about God.  And a person need not “land” in a hetero- or homo- sexual identity. You can just love who you love.

I love my bisexual, atheist, advocate, daughter.  She is helping me prepare to be a better pastor and advocate for all people in our church.

 Jean Hay  and her wife Jan live in Minnesota.  During the day, she geeks out as a data analyst, but is also  a First Call Candidate with the Sierra Pacific Synod and is excited for the day she can serve as a pastor. 

Guest blog by Cary Bass-Deschenes, Proclaim member and First Call Candidate

In May I graduated from Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary and am now awaiting the Holy Spirit to call me to a congregation or setting where I can share my gifts. Most days it has been an exercise in patience.  Whereas a year ago the synod had a number of calls that were readily available when students graduated, this year congregations in transition all seem to be at different points in their process. So we wait for congregational profiles, schedule interviews, and then have a sort of courting period that in some ways resembles a dating service.

And yet I cannot stay idle. For while the wheels of the ELCA process grind slowly (and with reason, we don’t want to rush people into inappropriate calls) the Holy Spirit yet nudges, coerces and compels me to engage in public ministry in ways that I can, using the opportunities I have.

Because of my affinities with drug offenders (I am over nine years clean sober) I am particularly drawn to prison ministry, and particularly in light of Jesus’ words “ I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matthew 25.36). For the last year I have been volunteering at San Quentin Prison and participating in a prisoner-led Restorative Justice roundtable. The roundtable is a weekly event in which participants sit around in groups and learn about the principals of restorative justice – a system of justice that regards the effect of a crime on the victim, the offender, and the communities, and seeks to repair the harm caused by the crime in appropriate ways.

Most weeks the men sit in a circle and read through a chapter of The Little Book of Restorative Justice for People in Prison by Barb Toews.  They talk about how they are moved by what they are reading or how it applies to their lives, both with regard to their individual offenses as well as their lives in prison. Outside volunteers like myself also participate, sharing personal anecdotes as well as being active listeners to the men as they share their feelings. There is something remarkable in  watching people who have been classified as irredeemable “hardened criminals” change and grow, understanding that what they do impacts those around them and that their own offenses have had impact far beyond where they expected.

Recently, ministry at San Quentin has added on a different dimension. I have several times now walked the tiers of Carson Unit (also known as “The Hole”) with Father George Williams, the Roman Catholic chaplain, visiting men who have been locked in solitary holding cells for a period of time. They may have done something to merit the awful punishment of solitary, they may be there for their own protection, or they may be simply awaiting transfer to another unit or another facility. In any case, their interaction with other human beings is limited almost entirely to the guards and the numerous voices of other prisoners of Carson in other cells who they cannot see.

This work is at the same time rewarding and draining. It is rewarding that by virtue of my very presence I am a source of attention, comfort, and interest, and I can provide them with a set of ears to listen to them and acknowledge their humanity and existence. It is draining because the conditions are dehumanizing and degrading, the suffering seems to be endless, and far too many have accepted that this way of life is the only way that is possible for them.

Prison Ministry offers a new challenge for me as an out gay man. Because as a volunteer we do not as a matter of course discuss our personal lives, there are no real opportunities to be a witness to the power of being a disciple of Christ in the guise of a person in a loving and committed same-sex relationship. Although the staff and other volunteers know who my husband Michael is and of our relationship, as far as the prisoners are concerned I might as well be as straight as most of them. In that respect I have had to consider how genuine this makes me, and I have decided to be more willing to be the pastor, and the person, God has made me.  To share that God calls people from all walks of life, including members of sexual minorities. To share that being queer is compatible with leading a Christ-centered life and in fact can give us a unique perspective in overcoming self-doubt and finding grace, in turn leading others to the good news of a savior who is available to all people regardless of individual circumstances.

And so after decades of being public and open, (even as far as recently appearing in a widely published AP photo in my collar with my husband), in my prison ministry I have recently had the experience of “coming out” all over again.  This time I decided to come out to one of the prisoners who has some leadership and with whom I have a great deal of contact. He responded favorably and thanked me for the trust I showed him by being genuine with him.

Not surprisingly, the world hasn’t ended as a result.  And next week, I’ll be back again.

Cary Bass-Deschenes is a 47 year old first call candidate in the Sierra Pacific Synod, currently serving as Parish Administrator at Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church.  Prior to his clergy life, he worked as the volunteer coordinator for the Wikimedia Foundation, the organization behind Wikipedia, and as a writer, having published two short stories.  Cary is a member of and worships at St. Francis Lutheran Church in San Francisco and is a community participant in Way of Grace in the San Francisco East Bay.  He lives full time with his husband Michael in their home in North Oakland, and Banjo, a 12-year old Staffordshire Terrier/Boxer mix.  

ELM supports First Call Candidates, like Cary, through resources like The Mysteries of the Ages: ELM’s Unofficial Guide for LGBTQ First Call Candidates, chaplain support, opportunities through Proclaim Pulpit Supply, virtual meet ups, and 1-on-1 support.

An extraordinary congregation and pastor were highlighted yesterday by KALW, a San Francisco public radio station, in a story about the Rev. Megan Rohrer and Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church. Read or listen to the whole story here.

The story was about unexpected communities in San Francisco. It’s a great story about Grace Lutheran and Pastor Rohrer, and provides insight into a lesser known part of the LGBTQ community. Megan identifies as transgender and uses the pronoun they to reflect their comfort with male and female aspects of their identity.

Pastor Rohrer has a long history with Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries. They were a member of the historic ELM Roster, ordained extraordinarily in 2006. Pastor Rohrer was also part of the transitional leadership team that founded Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries, serving as the volunteer Communications Director. Pastor Rohrer was received onto the ELCA Clergy Roster in 2010.

ELM celebrates and gives thanks for extraordinary congregations and pastors like Grace Evangelical Lutheran and Pastor Rohrer. Learn more about how ELM supports extraordinary congregations through our Ministry Engagement program.