Courage

A friend of mine signs off on all of her e-mails with the salutation "Courage."

I have been thinking of that word much this week as I have prepared for the appeal hearing with the Shenandoah District Leadership Team challenging the termination of my ordination and the letter of censure given to our Senior Pastor at BWCOB.  Mindful of that hearing, which took place last night, numerous friends and acquaintances have wished me courage in recent days, thanked me for my courage in standing for an inclusive church, etc.  Last evening, one of the members of the DLT even thanked me for my courage in being present at the hearing. 

I have mixed feelings in hearing this word expressed to me in such ways.  I have found resonance with these feelings in a book I read recently entitled A Letter to my Congregation: An evangelical pastor's path to embracing people who are gay, lesbian and transgender into the company of Jesus (Read the Spirit Books, 2014).  It was written by Ken Wilson, founding pastor of Vineyard Church in Ann Arbor, Michigan.  I wholeheartedly recommend his book as one of the clearest and most articulate expressions of the case for an inclusive church that is able to lovingly and compassionately hold competing values and beliefs even on perceived first-order moral issues such as same-sex marriage.  But one of the things that most spoke to me in this book was something Wilson shared in his concluding chapter, "I am willing."  In speaking of his affirmation and willingness "to be fearless", Ken shared an anecdote from his experience presenting the paper detailing his path to the conviction that LGBT persons should be embraced rather than excluded in the church.  In his words:

When I presented this as a paper at the Society of Vineyard Scholars, a number of people, including the respondent who didn't agree with my conclusions, commented on my "courage" in presenting the paper.  At first, this appealed to my natural desire to look good.  But after hearing it several times, that wore off and it gave way to anger. 

I thought of the believers I know in a nation I don't even want to mention in print because they wake up in small villages that have been affected by a militant form of Islam and have to decide whether to be known as Jesus followers or not.  That takes courage.

And then I thought of the people who are gay or transgender who now attend the Vineyard Church of Ann Arbor, knowing just a little of the fear that they went through simply to attend a church not knowing whether they would be accepted or not.  That takes courage. 

But I had to admit, giving the paper at the Society of Vineyard Scholars took a little moxie, a little chutzpah, a little nerve.  Maybe, if the bar is very low, it took a little courage.  But then what does that say about the religious system that we are operating in?  That it takes a little 'courage' for a pastor to stand up and talk about things that every pastor faces when it comes to the care of people who are gay, lesbian, and transgender?  Shouldn't that take any number of things other than courage?  Why would such a word have any use at all in such a context? 

We should all be ashamed to admit that it takes any courage at all for a pastor to do such a thing.
(pp. 183-184)

I thought about these words as I sat and listened and shared in the hearing last evening.  I have been struggling emotionally and spiritually with my defrocking more in recent days than I have at any point previously.  In truth, I needed those expressions and prayers for strength and courage last night, and I continue to feel the need for strength and courage as I await the outcome of that hearing.  And that reality -- and what it says about the state and the soul of the church to which I have given myself in service and ministry -- is perhaps the most troubling realization of all for me in this process...

Defrocked

On December 10, 2015, I received notification that my ordination was being terminated by the Shenandoah District Church of the Brethren.  This action was officially taken for my failure to support and abide by district and denominational policy regarding homosexuality and church leadership, and most notably for officiating the wedding of two women in May 2015.

This action has led me to this forum where, after a long hiatus, I am renewing and refreshing my blog.  I will be using this medium as a way of communicating to and with those who have an interest and a stake in this action and any subsequent actions, as a way of processing and reflecting on my feelings and thinking during this season of life and ministry, and as a means of engaging constructive conversations and dialogue regarding sexuality, relationships, marriage, and the church.  And perhaps other things along way. 

But for now, I share this open letter, offering my initial reflections in the wake of the termination of my ordination:

An Open Letter in the Wake of the Termination of My Ordination

First of all – to all those who have reached out to me, to my family, and to the Bridgewater COB in love and care, whether you are “with” me/us or not, I want to say thank you.  Your kind and thoughtful words are touching and deeply appreciated.  I want to assure everyone that I am OK, that I continue to serve in ministry in the Bridgewater COB, and that I was and am prepared to walk this road.  My ministry, nor this element of it, has ever been about me.  I am called to serve and speak and stand in solidarity with others.  I was and continue to be in a privileged position – both as a white, straight, American male, and as a pastor in a supportive, engaged, and faithful community.  I consider it an honor and privilege to stand with and on behalf of those who are not so privileged, and to do so in the company and fellowship of the Bridgewater Church of the Brethren. 

That said, I cannot deny the emotional and spiritual impact of my defrocking.  This is not the first time my ministerial credentials have been questioned or threatened, and therefore the wounds of this action run deeper than this moment.  I struggle with anger and sadness and grief; with feelings of betrayal by the church to which I have given my vocational life; and with increased pessimism about the future of the church and its continuing ability to witness to the good news of Jesus.  This is not easy by any stretch of the imagination. 

But nothing of consequence ever is.  So to those who have shared expressions of solidarity and support – friends and family, acquaintances and strangers alike – I extend my appreciation.  It is good to know that I am not alone.  Many have asked what they can do to be supportive, and to that, I ask that we all remember to speak and share our convictions and support with grace and peace, thoughtfulness and care.  In situations of perceived injustice, it is easy to become reactionary, and to blindly and quickly vilify and condemn those with whom we disagree.  But as a wise friend recently shared with me, “The best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better” (Fr. Richard Rohr).   I would hope that we can trust this to be our lasting and most persuasive collective witness. 

To those who disagree with my/our position and/or actions – both friends and strangers alike – I ask the same.  A few of you have been kind enough to contact me privately and/or directly, and for that I am grateful.  I do not shun respectful debate or honest confrontation and hard sharing.  However, I firmly believe that such sharing is best and most productive in a personal, direct, and relational context.  I deeply value those who care enough to engage in such difficult conversation, and I will do my best to honor all such efforts with the attention and respect they deserve.  While we may disagree, I do not hold all opposing viewpoints to be evil, hateful, or faithless, and I trust that most of you can do the same.

Finally, I feel compelled to offer a public word of grace for the leadership and members of the Shenandoah District.  Throughout this process, in the midst of these most difficult conversations, I have been impressed with the honest efforts of most of my sisters and brothers in the district to be respectful, thoughtful, and faithful; and to act with integrity according to their consciences, their discernment of the mind of Christ, and the duties of their offices.  I believe that most of my fellow Brethren in the Shenandoah district are motivated by their best understandings of the gospel, and while many of us have substantial disagreements about faith and practice, I hold no ill will for those with whom I disagree.  I covet your thoughts and prayers for the leaders of the District as they seek to be faithful in navigating these troubled waters.  Through my continuing witness and ministry, I hope to prove that the action to terminate my ordination was wrong, but even more, I hope to be a witness and catalyst for an inclusive, affirming, safe, and more faithful church for all. 

~Christopher W. Zepp

December 16, 2015

Poetry

A poem written by Kathy Fuller Guisewite in reflection on the shootings in Arizona last week. I got it through Brethren newsline and want to keep it going:

Still without a full-time job,
I am roaming the house today
feeling the need to do something valuable
or at least something that is
not wasteful.
Aren’t we supposed to be productive
at all times
at all costs?
Aren’t we supposed to be
producing something,
something tangible and
monetarily significant?

And yet,there is a deeper pull today.
It pulls toward an awareness, a vague awareness
that beckons at the edges of productivity to slow down
and lean into intention.

Our world keeps crying out
for us to lay down the cravings that
satisfy only the shallow part of self
and quench the thirst of depth,
of calling beyond word or voice
to what yearns to be born.
Can you hear it?

What is it? What is struggling to find life?
What blocks that first breath
where all that was, and all that is, and all that can be
merge together in an interlocking shout of wholeness?

Why can we not put down the guns?
Why can we not put aside our divisions?
We choose these. We choose the freedoms that take life.
And the news is filled with sorrow
all the while we force ourselves to do
the daily routines,
counting down our days until
the something more or the something better arrives.

My little dog begs to
sit in my lap.
Her warmth enhances mine,
and I should like to think
that mine enhances hers.
As we sit together, I recognize
a still intuition that leads
the little birds to feed, the snow clouds to fill the skies,
and the afternoon light to hang low.
Somewhere in South Africa my daughter mourns something
unnamable.
The weeping she cannot contain.
And I wonder, how is it that we aren’t
all on our knees
weeping for what we cannot name.

There’s no unlocking the peace of tomorrow
until we stand wide-eyed to the pain of today.
This is the work we must tend.
These are the wounds we must heal.
This is the price we must pay until we return
to the first breath,
the knowing
that waits.

~Kathy Fuller Guisewite, Jan. 10, 2011.
(For more of Kathy’s poetry go to www.beautifultendings.com .)

Homosexuality

The second sexuality sermon (on homosexuality) has now been delivered. A manuscript is available at the BWCOB website: http://bwcob.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/09Oct25ResponsetoHomosexuality.pdf

Several comments have already been offered under the previous post on sexuality, so do check in there to get caught up on the conversation. I will be responding to the comments offered there, but I am hoping that the continuing conversation related to how we as a church respond to homosexually oriented persons shifts to this post.

I am very interested to hear how people are responding and what continuing reflections and reactions are being generated. Hopefully we shall have some good, honest conversation...

Part of the solution

In the summer of 2002, I attended the Church of the Brethren Annual Conference in Louisville, KY. I was finishing my second year as the interim pastor of youth at the Lancaster Church of the Brethren, a newlywed preparing to enter volunteer service with my wife that fall. I confess that I went to conference somewhat disillusioned with the church and looking forward to a year away from it. That fall Amanda and I would begin a year of volunteer service, and I had hopes that that time would help to clarify the growing tension in my love/hate feelings for the church and to discern my calling, whether in the church or out. But what I experienced at conference that year nearly sealed the deal in my contemplated exit from the ministry and potentially the church, and left a sour taste in my mouth that still lingers.

Conference fielded a query that year on the propriety of licensing and ordaining homosexual persons to the ministry. I honestly do not remember whether there were other significant items of business on the agenda that year. What I do remember was the spirit that saturated that conference, a spirit that was palpable to me in not only in the contentious business sessions addressing the query, but also in worship, in the exhibit spaces, even in the hallways of the convention center and the surrounding hotels. It wasn’t pretty. It was a spirit of hatred and fear, of distrust and judgment. Instead of brothers and sisters coming together to discern the mind of Christ, I experienced two sides at war – conservatives verses progressives, BMC verses BRF, us verses them. Instead of searching to understand the scriptures together, I saw our sacred texts used as weapons – words pulled out of context and hurled back and forth with no more love than a pin pulled from a grenade.

I do not know how much of my perception was grounded in my own wrestling with the church at that stage of my life and call. But I do know that I was not alone in my perceptions. And I also know that the tension over the question of homosexuality is in no way unique to our denomination nor to the church. Dan Kimball has named homophobia as one of the 6 negative perceptions consistently cited by those who like Jesus but not the church.

In my continuing love/hate relationship with the church, I sometimes wonder which church will carry the day on this issue -- the church which led the abolition of slavery or the one that saw nothing wrong with one huan being owning another, the church that birthed some of the greatest institutions of higher learning in the western world or the church that has set itself in opposition to science for centuries.

And then I realize that this is the church. And that it's not which church "wins", but whether we as people of faith have the fortitude to stick with an imperfect institution and with imperfect sisters and brothers in the constant journey to reach for and to realize the best of our calling and the best of ourselves -- to be the change that we want to see in the church and in the world. And as much as the debate over homosexuality drives me crazy, and as much as I may be tempted (driven?) to walk away from a church that is tearing itself up over the issue, I believe that we are (or at least can be) better than what I experienced at that 2002 Conference.

And I need to be part of the solution.

Sermon 1

Well, the first sermon on sexuality is in the books. If you missed it, or want to check it out again, a manuscript is available at the BWCOB website: http://bwcob.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/09Oct18HumanSexuality.pdf

As I reflect on the responses I have been getting, I continued to be amazed and humbled by how many have commended me for being "courageous" enough to address the topic. I have been fond of responding that the line between courage and foolishness is thin -- perhaps its not the place to go for an extended walk!

Be that as it may, I am indeed hopeful that these sermons will not be simply 2 weeks and done, but will spark some discussions and conversations that develop depth and continue well beyond the week of delivery. So to that end, I post this sermon excerpt, followed by two questions for us to consider:

...the church has largely surrendered its ability to speak on the subject of sexuality in a meaningful way in our culture, and even in the lives of many Christians. In our overwhelming silence concerning most matters of sexuality, we have left individuals and young people pretty much on their own in expressing and understanding their sexuality. In our overwhelming negativity and judgmentalism when we do speak about sex, we have rendered the church – and by association, the Christian faith – practically irrelevant in sexual decision making for the majority of people whose feelings and life experiences do not confirm a negative attitude toward sex.

But I believe that our faith is relevant to the expression of our sexuality, and that that relevance extends well beyond a laundry list of sexual sins to be avoided. I believe that sex is a precious and beautiful part of our human nature, a gift of God woven into the very fabric of creation. Furthermore, I believe that sex is more than a private matter, and that contrary to much popular rhetoric that would suggest that what we do between the sheets is nobody’s business, sexual expression and ethics is a legitimate community affair – indeed I believe sex is everyone’s business.

So: 1) Do you think that sex/sexuality is indeed everyone's business, or would society and the church be better served by following a policy of "don't ask/don't tell" and/or "to each his/her own"?
And 2) If sex is indeed a legitimate community affair, how does the church claim or reclaim a meaningful role and voice in a context that includes media, science, civil authority, social norms and taboos, etc?

Sexuality

This weekend I will begin a two week sermon series at BWCOB on sexuality. The sermon this week (10/18) will focus on sexuality in general, and the second (10/25) will deal with how the church responds to homosexuality. It is not the first time I have preached on these topics, and I am sure it will not be the last. They stem from two basic convictions: 1) that the church (generally speaking) is/has been sorely negligent in addressing these topics in honest, helpful, and relevant ways and 2) that the church has more to say in the conversation than "thou shalt not". It is my hope that these sermons will help to engage at least our congregation at BWCOB (and maybe some beyond) in a healthy and ongoing conversation about issues of sexuality, sexual ethics, inclusion, justice, morality, biblical interpretation, and more.

I will be posting links to the sermons which will be posted online at the church website after they are delivered, with the hope that this blog will be a place where the conversation can develop and continue. While I have been slow in posting on this blog to date, the opportunity to have continuing coversations in this way is one of the primary reasons I decided to give blogging a try.

I hope you'll be a part of it...