Year: 2020

Faith & Politics: A Reflection

Lewis Eggleston October 15, 2020 No Comments

By Elle Dowd


Psalm 146

1 Praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord, O my soul!

2 I will praise the Lord as long as I live;

    I will sing praises to my God all my life long.

3 Do not put your trust in princes,

    in mortals, in whom there is no help.

4 When their breath departs, they return to the earth;

    on that very day their plans perish.

5 Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob,

    whose hope is in the Lord their God,

6 who made heaven and earth,

    the sea, and all that is in them;

who keeps faith forever;

7     who executes justice for the oppressed;

    who gives food to the hungry.

The Lord sets the prisoners free;

8     the Lord opens the eyes of the blind.

The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;

    the Lord loves the righteous.

9 The Lord watches over the strangers;

    [God] upholds the orphan and the widow,

    but the way of the wicked [God] brings to ruin.

10 The Lord will reign forever,

    your God, O Zion, for all generations.

Praise the Lord!


Many of us inherited the message growing up that our “faith should not be political.” But that idea fundamentally misunderstands both faith and politics. “Politics” is just another word that describes how we order our public life together. It is about how we act together, in community. It is about our relationships with one another. So although partisanship is often problematic, it is clear throughout scripture and in the person of Jesus Christ that faith is very much concerned with things like our public life, how we behave in community, and our relationships with one another. In that way, faith is inherently political.

Our faith is also concerned with our public witness – the way we live out our beliefs – particularly in the way that it affects the most vulnerable among us. Voting is one of many opportunities we have to reflect the love that we have for God and our neighbor. God asks us to order our lives with a concern for the needs of the most vulnerable among us. This includes our tax structures, our institutions, our social safety nets.

We are citizens of God’s kingdom, a reign that is breaking in and taking hold all around us, and a reign that has not yet fully come. But being citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven doesn’t mean that we are indifferent with the material realities here on earth. Quite the opposite. Jesus’ ministry on earth was full of examples of providing for the physical, fleshy needs of people.  Jesus’ ministry wasn’t just about lofty, heady ideas – it was rooted in the day to day lives of real people. It was a feet on the ground, dirt under the fingernails kind of ministry. Jesus fed the hungry, healed the sick, welcomed children, and proclaimed freedom to prisoners. It was Jesus’ radical and embodied prioritization of those on the margins that threatened the Roman Empire. The Roman Empire was concerned with Making Rome Great. God cares about casting down the mighty and lifting up the poor and oppressed, like the prophet Mary, Mother of God taught us in her famous protest song in Luke 1.

Voting is in part about the beliefs and ideals we hold. It is about dreaming about a society that aligns with its stated ideals. But it is more than that, too.  These are not abstract concepts. They are not hypotheticals. The decisions we make (or don’t make) have real effects on the daily lives of flesh and blood people. Our collective decisions can bring us closer to a Kingdom “on Earth as it is in Heaven” or they can draw us closer to the fascist Hell on Earth that many people in our ICE detention centers, prisons, slums, underfunded schools, and divested neighborhoods are already experiencing. There are real life and death implications of our choices, for both human and nonhuman nature. As a queer person and as the mother of Black teenagers, these choices are not philosophical questions. They have power to change the lives of me and the people I love, for better or for worse.

When I vote, I ask the people who cannot vote what they would have me do. I reach out to young people under 18, undocumented people, people whose status as an incarcerated or formerly incarcerated person makes them ineligible in their state. I vote in solidarity with the stated interests of people who are most affected by these choices yet have the least amount of say. There are prophets all around us who have been in our streets directing us towards freedom if we would only pay attention.

Our ultimate liberation will not come through elections and no politician or political party is our savior. Elections are one tool we have at our disposal in ordering a society that reflects a passionate concern for the lives of our neighbors. Running for office or supporting issue campaigns is another. Protesting and unionizing and organizing is another. Mutual aid and alternative economies is another.

God’s kingdom is more expansive and revolutionary than any political party in our country. I vote with the hope that even as we remain trapped in our current political system, we can preserve the life and liberty of as many people as possible until God’s day of liberation comes fully.


Let us pray,

God of All People, your borderless kingdom is more powerful and eternal than that of any earthly king. As we discern our decisions this election season, align our hearts with your care for the most vulnerable among us. Liberate us collectively and individually from systems that bind us; capitalism, the cis-hetero patriarchy, and white supremacy. Enable us to attend to the prophets in our midst pointing to the way forward. Open our minds and embolden our creative spirits, that we may dream up new ways of being in community that reflect your boundless love and mercy. In the name of your Son, our President, the slaughtered lamb, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, One God now and forever. Amen.

Elle Dowd (she/her/hers) is a bi-furious recent graduate of the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago and a candidate for ordained ministry in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. 

Elle has pieces of her heart in Sierra Leone, where her two children were born, and in St. Louis where she learned from the radical, queer, Black leadership during the Ferguson Uprising. 

She was formerly a co-conspirator with the movement to #decolonizeLutheranism and currently serves as a board member of the Euro-Descent Lutheran Association for Racial Justice, does community organizing in her city as a board member of SOUL, writes regularly as part of the vision team for the Disrupt Worship Project, and facilitates workshops on gender and sexuality and the Church in both secular conferences and Christian spaces. She is publishing a book with Broadleaf about her conversion from a white moderate to an abolitionist to be released summer of 2021, with pre-sale orders going live in January. 

Elle has interests in queer and feminist Biblical interpretation and liberation and body theology. 

Elle loves spending time with the people she loves and on weekends when there isn’t a global pandemic, she tours the city of Chicago in search of the best Bloody Mary.

To get in touch with Elle and to keep up with updates,  you can visit her website www.elledowd.com and subscribe to her newsletter. You can also see her online ministry via Facebook.com/elledowdministry or follow her on Twitter/SnapChat/Insta @hownowbrowndowd or on TikTok @elledowdministry

Operations Support – Part-time

Amanda Nelson October 8, 2020 No Comments

Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries
Operations Support, Part-Time

Position Description

The Organization

Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries (ELM) is a self-funded social ministry organization that believes the public witness of gender and sexual minority ministers transforms the church and enriches the world. ELM does this work through three main programs: Proclaim, Accompaniment, and Ministry Engagement. Learn more at www.elm.org

The Position

The Operations Support position performs and organizes tasks to bolster ELM’s programs, fundraising, and communications and provide general assistance to our staff.

ELM expects that all its staff members will…

  • Cultivate an organizational culture rooted in faith, grounded in radical love and hospitality, clear with purpose, dependent on collaboration, and transparent in motives.
  • Speak to the intersectionality of injustice and oppression, calling ourselves, our community and the larger church to greater awareness of injustice and commitment to ending oppression.

Primary Responsibilities

Program Support: In coordination with Program Director 

  • Coordinate annual Proclaim Gathering registration and site logistics in partnership with Program Director and Gathering Planning Team
  • Facilitate program-related mailings (i.e. synod assembly materials, Proclaim & ELM banners, promotional materials, etc.)
  • Maintain internal and external Proclaim member records 
  • Attendance/assistance at the annual national Proclaim Gathering
  • Provide basic admin support for program-related tasks (data entry, email outreach, etc.)

Communications & Development: In coordination with Associate Director of Development & Communications

  • Format and publish ELM weekly blog “the inter-MISSION” (email & website) 
  • Update ELM’s website (WordPress)
  • Maintain and manage donor database (eTapestry) 
  • Deposit checks and prepare weekly and monthly reports for Executive Director, Associate Director of Development and Communications, and Treasurer
  • Enter financial and in-kind donations into database (eTapestry) and send gift acknowledgements
  • Engage with donors directly regarding sensitive financial information pertaining to their giving.

Administrative Duties: In Coordination with Executive Director 

  • Acknowledge office phone calls and respond to inquiry emails.
  • Support ELM Board Secretary in coordinating meeting materials and logistics for Board of Directors in-person meetings (twice annually)
  • Collect and process mail, 
  • Participate in Board of Directors and team meetings as needed
  • Special projects as assigned

Requirements

Prior Experience

  • Experience working in an administrative support role required
  • Donor Database/CRM experience required (eTapestry experience preferred)
  • Anti-oppression training and/or deep cross-cultural experience preferred

Personal Skills and Attributes

  • Highly motivated self-starter, comfortable working remotely as part of distributed staff
  • Effective written and verbal communicator
  • Comfortable with communication and productivity technology, such as video-conferencing programs and task management tools (i.e. Asana)
  • Demonstrated competency of issues facing LGBTQIA+ persons
  • Excellent time management with the ability to prioritize tasks
  • Finds joy in daily life and work
  • Passionate about justice and full inclusion for gender and sexual minorities
  • Must be legally able to work in the U.S.

Work Demands

  • This position is based in Chicago
  • Part-time, 18-hours per week within regular business hours during the work week. Weekly schedule set in consultation with the Executive Director 
  • Mobility Note: need to be able to physically go to a local Post Office to retrieve and send mail, must be able to lift packages (max approximately 50lbs), and work from a second-floor office in a non-ADA compliant building without Air Conditioning.
  • Must work regular hours the last week of December to process year-end donations

Apply

To apply, send your resume and a cover letter to search@elm.org.  

The deadline for applications is October 23, 2020.  

Compensation

The Operations Support position shall be paid at a competitive hourly rate of $20 per hour. 

Equal Opportunity Employment Policy

ELM is committed to providing equal employment opportunities to and actively seeks to employ all qualified individuals and does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, ethnicity, religion, sex, gender identity and expression, sexual orientation, national origin, disability, age, marital status, veteran status, parental status, or any other basis prohibited by applicable law.

National Coming Out Day:  A Reflection

Lewis Eggleston October 8, 2020 No Comments
By Lewis Eggleston
 
My undergrad degree is in Political Science and I have a Master of Divinity degree, which means, if the expression is true about discussing religion and politics, I’m not allowed to speak at any dinner party.
 
We’ve all experienced the results if we do talk about these things, however, discussing politics & religion around the dinner table is as old as time. Remember Christ’s first miracle at the Wedding at Cana? I often wonder if Mary was listening to a political or religious debate around her table when she told Jesus, in her best mom voice, “Jesus, please make some wine”. For myself, I know wine did help with the most recent political debates.
 
Like many LGBTQIA+ folks, I have cherished childhood memories of my extended family around the dinner table at holidays & weddings that I thought would continue on forever, but all that changed when I came out. Going forward any extended family function I would need both Jesus & wine, and like Mary, I made my way through the event because I knew Jesus loves me too.
 
Do we all wish our friends and family would listen to our prophetic words and insights based on scripture, our experience, and discernment with the Holy Spirit? Of course! But also remembering, as Christ said, no one is accepted as a prophet in their hometown. Meaning, the family members who witnessed our growing up, who changed our diapers, saw us fall down and get hurt, and say some not-so-smart things will most-likely not trust our Gospel message as much as their straight (probably white male) pastor’s message. Christ understood this! Keep preaching the Good News regardless. 
 
Deciding to be our full authentic selves, similar to articulating our call to ministry, accepting & living into where God is calling us, is a political act. Christ never said, “I came to maintain the status quo. Keep doing everything you’re already doing.” The Gospels are stories about people with changed hearts & minds, and they point to a God desiring abundant lives for all of humanity. Faithful, authentic, honest, gracious, loving people who desire to walk-arm-in-arm with the least of these.
 
Let us pray,

Gracious God, our spirits are heavy. Our minds comprehend the scripture verse, “there is nothing new under the sun,” that disease, tyranny, & racism have existed and decimated our world before. God of Creation, we ask for the strength to soften hardened hearts, that minds may be opened to the beauty of the earth and of your creation that is still being created. May we enter the voting booths with Love, Joy, & Hope for a future that is abundant & fruitful for all your creation and let us all come out of the voting booth, like Christ came out of the tomb, with a desire to share the Good News and make the world a better place. We ask these things in your Holy name, Amen.
 


Lewis Eggleston (he/him/his) is the Associate Director of Development & Communications for ELM. He is a candidate for the Ministry of Word & Service and he resides in Kaiserslautern, Germany with his husband Mitchell and dog-child, Carla.

Faith & Politics: Cary Bass-Deschênes

Lewis Eggleston October 1, 2020 No Comments
by Rev Cary Bass-Deschênes
 
“Pastor, I wish you would preach more about the gospel and less about politics.” 

The first Sunday morning I heard this refrain it felt as if I had joined a club, one of which many of my colleagues in areas outside my “liberal” enclave of Berkeley, had long been members. But the sermon the Holy Spirit directed me to preach that Sunday morning was about the divisiveness within the community of Christ, focusing on the calling of Christ to treat one another with love and kindness. 
“You called someone ‘racist’” 

Now wait a second! I most certainly did not call anyone racist in a sermon. The only time I’ve described anyone as ‘racist’ in a sermon would have been first and foremost, myself, in how I benefited from white privilege and was oftentimes negligent in viewing how my non-white, and in particular my Black colleagues regularly experienced discrimination in ways that seemed so subtle to me but were so obvious to them.

So the word ‘racist’ was not in my sermon, and I don’t think I said ‘racism’, did I? However, I could see where this was going. I contextualized a belief I held about why we were where we were: that much of our electorate chose our leaders under the misguided guise of a hierarchal system anointed by a Creator that upheld patriarchal, white supremacy as its standard for the ordering of humanity. That wasn’t simply something I read in a Pathos blog, it was something I experienced firsthand; and not in the comments section of a Time magazine article about the president.  It was in reading the comments on a Facebook post of a first cousin once removed.

Indeed, that was what it was in my sermon that triggered that response from this particular parishioner, who was longing for a message of good news, but instead felt called out by an association with being white. They were so tired of being forced to experience white guilt yet again. Yes, the president is awful, and yes, black people are still the victims of discrimination, but we’re doing the best we can, pastor? I came here to hear that Jesus loves me, not that I should flog myself for being white!

I’ve been a part of my own people’s fights.  I marched on Washington in 1987 after a Supreme Court decision failed to decriminalize sex between consenting men, and marched again in San Francisco in 2008 when voters in California decided to define “marriage” as solely between “man” and “woman.” Around 2008 I also began joining in the struggle for trans rights, hoping to ensure accessibility, acceptance and safety for trans folx. I have personally experienced discrimination, and feel even more disconnected since the current administration came to power in 2016.

But, in many ways, I’m in the best years of my life. I’ve experienced more personal growth since I turned 50 years old, spiritually as well as emotionally; I’ve come to a level of comfort and acceptance about my age, my gender identity, my sexuality, and how that aligns with God’s plan for me. God has created a wonderful being in me, and as I love God, I have come to love God’s creation as it exists within myself. And while, imperfect as I nevertheless still am, it’s not always easy to love myself, when I actualize it, it’s a very good feeling to have finally reached that after so many years of self-spite and self-doubt.

I’ve also come to acceptance of my whiteness, that while I can make conscious efforts to deconstruct it, no matter how much anti-racism or whiteness examination work I do, I will always bear the privilege of it in new spaces and will often be greeted with suspicion by new individuals. Bearing guilt about it is neither constructive, nor asked for. Awareness of it is, and using that privilege to bring about positive change for people is the best way that I can exemplify Jesus’s call in Matthew 22:39 to love my neighbor as myself.

But whereas God’s love is unconditional, my love seems to have boundaries. To me, this upcoming election is serving to emphasize such seemingly irreconcilable differences within our society, differences that extend well beyond the borders of our own now dysfunctional nation. That my values of social justice and equity and racial equality, which for me come directly from the Gospel, seem to be at odds with others’ values of justice.  The hostility that seems to be concentrated within the current administration and one political party toward me in my sexual and gender identity and people of other races and national origin has enablers, those that consistently vote to put those people back into power and control over public policy.  And it is not some tiny minority of voters who are among them, but a large and vocal minority that comprises not less than 1 in 3 of our nation’s population.

Matthew 5:43-45 tells us to love our enemy.  The Greek understanding of the word ἐχθρός (echthros) is of an individual that would seek to cause you mischief or do you harm.  I grew up in a time where children pledged their allegiance to the United States, and that we had a clear enemy, the Soviet Union. Since their collapse, our government has been striving to demonize nations in order that we have a clear and present danger, but as presidential administrations rise and fall, so do these categories of enemies. Today it is easier for us to look within at our cousins, our parents, our siblings. Maybe even our own children. Not just our families of blood but also those that Jesus has called us together: “these are my siblings”, Christ says. And now, my sibling in Christ is also the one who seems to be personally bent on causing me mischief or wishing me harm.

But Jesus tells me to love these people and pray for the ones who persecute me. November 3 seems like it’s the most important election of our lives, but, according to the polls, my vote will be fully canceled by someone whose effect is to persecute me. If this is not my enemy, my echthros, then who is? And while my cis-male-appearing, white, middle aged self is saying, you must do as Jesus says, my queer, non-binary, HIV positive, neurodivergent self is crying out “that’s easy for you, someone with privilege, to do!”

So yes, it’s really hard to love my enemies. But maybe loving them means hearing what they have to say about issues, understanding how they reached that opinion, knowing that they’re nevertheless human beings beloved by God and saved by grace without accepting their opinion about human rights, the climate, reproductive rights or social justice as Christ-centered or inspired by God. Being able to “agree to disagree” with them, all the while knowing that the Good News of Jesus nevertheless commands me to call out injustice, name White Supremacy for what it is and declare demonic the post Great Awakening evangelicalistic idea of a hierarchal order of humankind and to name humanity as poor stewards of God’s gift to us, the creation, the world. And preach that Jesus loves all of us, along with our brokenness. 
It may sound like politics when I preach, but maybe the Good News is there too.




Cary Bass-Deschênes (they/them) has been the lead pastor at Lutheran Church of the Cross in Berkeley, California, since 2015; a small congregation with big works; serving the homeless and food-insecure community of San Francisco’s East Bay with meals and a Food Pantry.  They live with their husband, Michael, in their home in Richmond, with their two dogs, Luna and Esby.  They have recently published their third short story, “The Chaos Artist” in the graphic novel A Matter of Right by Variance Press, due out in late Fall, early Winter 2020-21 under the name, Cary Michael Bass.

Faith & Politics: WWJD?

Lewis Eggleston September 24, 2020 No Comments
by Rev. Amanda Nesvold
 
As it turns out, WWJD does not stand for “what would Jesus do” in my life.
 
I discovered this a few months into my time at my first congregation, one night while streaming an old favorite on Netflix. Indeed, as a pastor, and, as I’ll explain shortly, as a voter, my WWJD will always be “What would Janeway do?”
 
Star Trek: Voyager premiered when I was seven years old. When I started watching it again at age twenty-seven, I was surprised to see so many of my own leadership habits and values reflected in Captain Kathryn Janeway’s leadership. Her determination, confidence in herself and her crew, and her compassion for even the most aggressive adversaries are all traits I ascribe to myself in my pastoring. (Not to mention actual facial expression reflection: I have a habit of visually reacting to a meeting after walking into the hallway where no one can see, which is also a habit of Captain Janeway’s.) Of course, much more than one show has shaped me: we are all shaped by the stories we encounter in our lives and how they are told to us. Stories of leaders and those they inspire, stories of problems to be solved and adventures to be had, stories of inspiring others and bringing together communities… these are the stories that shape us and shape our understanding of how the world could and should work.
 
When it comes to pastoring, these stories have shaped my leadership by shaping how I empathize with others, how I hear the stories of those I serve, and how I troubleshoot diplomatic encounters. Now, pastoring rarely involves interplanetary trade negotiations, but it does involve council meetings, budget meetings, and helping communities to come together for a common purpose.
 
When it comes to voting, these stories have shaped my sense of leadership by informing my leadership judgment system: how do good leaders inspire, direct, and serve their people? The question before us on every ballot is simple: which candidate would make the best leader for each position? The complexity comes in assessing for ourselves what “good leadership” looks like, what it looks like in different positions, and how different leadership styles can (or cannot) work in each position on the ballot.
 
But what about being a gay pastor? Does that impact who I think makes the best leader for each position on the ballot? Does having faith and being part of the LGBTQIA+ community impact how I interpret someone’s leadership and therefore if they are fit for public office?
 
Yes, being a person of faith impacts how I interpret leadership. Some of this impact comes from Biblical examples of leadership: Whose leadership is praised by God and whose is derided? Whose leadership helps to multiply leadership, and whose refuses to share power even when it would be for the good of the whole? Some of this impact comes from ecclesial and historical examples: Martin Luther was a prolific theologian and preacher, but was he a good leader? Who in the Church do I look up to for their servant leadership and whose legacies can I appreciate while wondering at their methods? (Of course, bad examples can teach us a lot as well, and I have also learned by negative example from both biblical and historical leaders!)
 
Yes, being a member of the LGBTQIA+ community and being a woman also impacts how I interpret leadership. Issues of inclusion, welcome, and gender equality directly impact my life and the lives of many in my communities. If a candidate will not speak to these issues, will not enter into conversation with communities about the issues they are facing, or will not consider me and those in my communities to be worthy of their time, then their leadership style is not one that matches what I look for in public servants.
 
And, yes, being a nearly life-long fan of Star Trek: Voyager has impacted how I interpret leadership, how I myself lead, and how I vote. Neither starships nor pastoral offices are run by democracy, but starship captains, pastors, and elected officials all must lead by serving all, not just all who agree with them.

Pastor Amanda Nesvold (she/her/hers) is an ELCA pastor and redeveloper, most recently serving in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Passionate about liturgy, missional experimentation, and fiber arts, she is a member of Proclaim and the Association of Lutheran Church Musicians. She is currently on leave from call, and while awaiting whatever is next, she is serving as a governess and tech support to two children whose parents work full-time but whose school is 100% online.

Faith & Politics: Rev. Joseph Casteñada Carrera

Amanda Nelson September 18, 2020 No Comments

We all know the routine. A person on the internet questions your belief, misinterprets the Bible to contradict Christian teachings. They argue that we should let the hungry starve, kick the downtrodden, rob from the naked, and turn off the neon welcome signs of our hearts to marginalized folks.

You disengage, knowing you are right, you unfriend, mute, snooze the person on social media. 

The routine continues, you reach out to a supportive echo chamber of people who completely agree you had no part in the conflict – they ignore any potential nuance you could rethink, and reduce the experience to “you’re right, they’re wrong.” The tempting routine feels so cozy with support that you are right. 

But being right may not be helpful. The choir of support will make you feel better, but may rob you of an opportunity to decolonize our lives, our religion, our world. Perhaps, you need an election year intervention. I believe conflict and tension are an essential. We can’t dread conflict, just like we can dread the air we need to breathe. It is an inevitable task if you care to faithfully create change

Yes, it’s uncomfortable, but it is not worth ignoring another person’s humanity or transformational engagement. God nudges us impatiently. I think that often disengaging from conversation and having friends who never invite reflection can be a misuse of privilege. I’m not calling anyone out, but rather calling us all in to consider if we are abandoning conversations from which our privilege will protect us. We may be making these conversations the responsibility of people who need to escape them for survival. Personally, I need a community that can remind me that even though I am queer, brown, and quirky that I still have privilege.  

The nuance of intersectional identity cultivates responsibility and pushes us to hard conversations. Because whiteness matters. Presenting masculine matters. College education matters. Speaking without an accent matters. Citizenship matters. There is no oppression competition and there is still responsibility in privileges even if you also identify with a group that is marginalized.

We can push more by having intentional community.

A good friend of mine, Rev. Matt Keadle, and I were venting, lamenting, about people who dangerously have behaviors and habits rooted in racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, and other -ISMs.  

When I get worked up, I feel urgent about issues,  talking way too fast and too much, and finding relief in constantly offering context that I am too emotional. It is a bad habit that implicitly asks for understanding or forgiveness for being upset over oppressive behavior. I want to be right.

Matt balances the conversation and the pace of our thinking; he takes deep thoughtful pauses to consider different perspectives and allows his heart to remember the vast number of different people it holds; he doesn’t speak if he is unsure; he can be angry and sad while still engaging his values and resisting an urge to be petty. 

Sometimes, Matt really bothers me by having no natural pettiness. At times, talking to Matt is not fun or indulgent of my feelings. 

But conversations with Matt are God-filled, essential for our shared work, wellbeing and sustainability in this work. Matt keeps me angry, honest, and clamorous in my expectations of God. I’d like to think that I help the Holy Spirit stir up Matt. I make him uncomfortable at times by just being and talking with the assuredness that nothing I can say would break the friendship, and that I can feel when he wants to say something and I make an awkward, pressuring space for him to say it. 

To be honest with readers, Matt is white and also straight. He is cisgender too. Oh yeah, Matt is also from the midwest. Nothing about the richness of either of our individual intersectional identities dictates that we should be friends.

But we reach out to one another because we are different, we don’t go right to making each other feel better about a tough experience. We ask each other to be reflective, to know we both can be wrong, hurtful. We trust our values are rooted in God and love, but not in being right. We see when disengagement is about survival and when we are trying to hide away privilege and responsibility to avoid discomfort.

Maybe, you want to avoid “feeling bad” when changing and transforming. For many, it’s sad and true, but we can practice discomfort and still survive, which may mean that being right is only about a stubbornness and commitment to being right according to the whiteness and patriarchy we have been taught is “normal” and comfortable.

Get a friend who won’t rush to make you feel better without thinking. 

Get out of posting in social media groups where you know everyone will agree with you. 

Stop playing through the same routine. 

It’s not helpful. It’s played out. Be fresh. Be bold. Be bothered. Engage.

Survive, for goodness sake, survive! But lean into the discomfort during this season of change. Wander in the desert for a little while to find deeper wells.

I am Joseph (he/him – they/them), child of Yolanda, who enjoys radical laughter with our Creator. Child of George, who creates intimate, rooted music alongside our Creator. I have her curiosity & wild sense of humor and his insatiable desire to connect and to love always more deeply. They gave me my first and longest family, & they taught me how to form new family and community. I end my emails with, “Blessings & warmth, Rev. Joseph Castañeda Carrera, MPP,” but I never introduce myself this way in-person. 
 
I make art that notices people and the world longing for God’s abundant presence and aching for the sacred joy of God’s inclusion, diversity, innovation, connection, creation, and compassion. One of my greatest commitments is discerning the same people who long as I serve as pastor. I balance being a pastor of beloved people in outrageously different contexts and reaching for the vision of being one church together; when it gets difficult, I laugh or I cry. Since 2016, I have served as pastor developer of ADORE LA, a queer faith community experiencing God in unconventional ways and Hollywood Lutheran Church since a year later. I have served as a coordinator or member of many synod, churchwide, and community committees and boards over the last decade, including the Strategic, Authentic Diversity Task Force, the Authentic Diversity Advisory Team, the McCune Foundation’s Community Organizing Institute planning team, Oxnard’s Community Relations Commission, and Latino Lutheran Network for Diversity. 
 
Prior to ordained ministry, I have worked beside many different people to stir up change in the world, failing and succeeding throughout the journey. I served as executive director and in various positions for over ten years at El Centrito Family Learning Centers, an organization committed to multilingual and multicultural education and community organizing. And prior to that had many experience in other nonprofit organizations as well as serving in the Peace Corps in Ecuador. I am an alumni of UCLA, CSUN, PLTS, and the University of Birmingham (England).
 
I have two lovely, sassy dogs, Remy and Pippy. My spouse Jaffa and family make life better and an adventure of discovering mystery and responding to God’s Will.

Faith & Politics: Rev. Meagan McLaughlin

Amanda Nelson September 14, 2020 No Comments

Two memes have echoed in my mind since I started my first call back in February of this year: “Jesus has skin in the game, and so do we,” and “Seek the well-being of the city to which I have carried you into exile,” from Jeremiah 29.  Both resonated, again, as I reflected on the intersection of faith, queer identity, and politics. 

With the privilege I have as a white, cisgender person, being queer has given me some “skin in the game” – wounds and barriers of being gay and married in a straight world, and a straight church. I am continually challenged by my colleagues and neighbors and friends of color, those with differing abilities or health issues, those with queer identities different from mine, to stand with those whose experiences place them further on the margins.

Jesus wasn’t a Samaritan, but he centered a Samaritan man in a story about embodying love for neighbor. 

Jesus wasn’t a woman, but his longest conversation about God and life and identity was with the woman at the well. 

Jesus wasn’t a tax collector, or someone shamed for supporting themselves as a sex worker, but that didn’t stop him from eating with those who were. 

And he paid a price for that: ultimately, Jesus was arrested, tortured, and lynched by the state for proclaiming God’s justice all the way to the margins. 

Jesus had some serious skin in the game, y’all, and I am increasingly convicted that I need to as well. 

“Seek the well-being of the city.” I had a conversation with a family member recently about a whole lot of things we vehemently disagree on, and as I listened really hard to understand where they were coming from, I finally understood: with every fiber of their being, they believe that individualism is going to save us, as people and as a nation. 

I responded that what got me through seminary, and the process to get a call that went on forever and was fraught with anti-LGBTQIA systemic challenges and bias, was not rugged pull-myself-up-individualism, but all of you. This community of LGBTQIA clergy and seminarians did not weaken me, or encourage self-pity and blame. Rather, you showed me the joys and the injustices of the world and church in which we live, and flamed the fire of my call, and encouraged me at times when I thought I couldn’t do one more thing. I could not do any of this on my own. 

And we aren’t meant to. “Seek the well-being of the city to which I have carried you into exile.” Not my own well-being, or the well-being of just those like me or those closest to me, but the well-being of the city. And especially now, when we are all in exile in different ways, I take this as my guide, in my preaching, my life, and my vote. 

When I go to the poles, it is because Moses demanded justice from Pharaoh, Rizpah mourned for her children until they were buried, Jeramiah called the people to seek the well-being of the whole community, Mary claimed that God’s justice was going to be a reality in THIS world, and Jesus over and over demonstrated God’s commitment to a world of justice for all people, especially those on the margins. 

When I speak out on “political” issues, it is not because I am a democrat or a liberal, but because as a queer person of faith, I find it confounding that something like “feed the hungry, heal the sick, welcome the stranger, care for the widow” is considered political in the first place. 

Seek the well-being of the city to which you are sent, because we all have skin in the game! 

After nine years of working at The Basilica of Saint Mary in Minneapolis, Proclaim member Meagan McLaughlin (she/her/hers) studied at Luther Seminary and United Theological Seminary and graduated with her MDiv in December of 2015. Pastor Meagan was ordained in January of 2020, and is currently serving her first call at Christ Lutheran Church, in Webster Groves, MO. Meagan, her wife, Karen, and their three cats live in St. Louis, and when she is not preaching (on Zoom), providing (socially-distanced) pastoral care, serving on (yet another) committee, or walking in one the parks in her new neighborhood, you can probably find her cuddling with her cats and binge-watching Disney+. 

Faith & Politics

Lewis Eggleston September 3, 2020 No Comments
“What’s it like being a pastor so close to the Capitol?” This is a question I’m often asked when people visit Lutheran Church of the Reformation for the first time or learn about where we are in DC. Located behind the Supreme Court and a block from the United States Capitol building, Reformation DC is the closest congregation of any faith community to these institutions. I get it and it’s a fair question, but when someone asked me recently ”What’s it like to do ministry in the shadow of the Capitol? I bet it’s hard not to be political!”, I responded, “I wonder what it’s like governing in the light of the church?”

As Christians, we follow a man who was political. The Good News that he proclaimed empowers us to be political. The Jesus I know and the Gospel I read are inherently political. Neither are partisan but it’s right there in the Greek, politikos: of, for, or relating to citizens. So while “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion”, we can insist that religious values be used to govern. And much deeper values than the #ThoughtsAndPrayers that are too often tweeted out. 

What, then, does the embodiment of thoughts and prayers look like? Action.
Hollow statements and shallow prayers mean nothing without actions behind them for government leaders and for us. Lifting up our voices is prayer embodied. Organizing is prayer in action. Marching and resisting and holding elected leaders accountable is what we know, as Lutherans, what we are freed in Christ to do. Living out our faith is placing a sure trust in the grace of God and in that confidence, we are called to act.

In his 1980 lecture The Relationship of the Christian Faith to Political Praxis, theologian James Cone asserts that “praxis for the purposes of societal change is what distinguishes liberation theologies” (Black, Feminist, Womanist) from others. As queer folx, we too “share the conviction that truth is found in the active transformation of unjust societal structures.” We continue to work for this active transformation both in the Church and in the world.

Soon, eligible voters have the privilege and opportunity to embody our prayers at the ballot box, either by filling out our ballots in our homes or at a polling place. Soon, we will take our thoughts and our prayers with us to vote, I hope, with Christian values.
 
Christian values that prioritize Creation and stewarding the abundance God has blessed us with.
Christian values that cry out for the release of those imprisoned and the freedom of the oppressed.
Christian values that demand #BlackTransLivesMatter in all aspects of life and ministry.
Christian values that welcome and take care of the sick and the stranger.
Christian values that insist that the powerful be brought down from their thrones and the lowly lifted up. 
Christian values that advocate that the hungry are filled with good things and the rich are sent away empty.
Christian values that care for the wellbeing and health of our neighbors here and abroad. 

I have yet to do my ministry in the shadow of the Capitol because the Light of the World shines too brightly. I can only think and pray and act with the love that Jesus brings and the justice that Jesus insists upon. I am so grateful that all aspects of my life are influenced and informed by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, including my politics.
 

Rev. Ben Hogue was blessed to bring the words of his saint-mentor Joel Workin into the halls of Congress, opening the House of Representatives in prayer on the day of his installation at Lutheran Church of the Reformation. Ben lives next to Reformation with his fiancé Marshall, and their Beltway boys, Bogart (cat) and Bosco (dog). He is very excited that candy corn is back on store shelves.

Hairspray

Lewis Eggleston August 6, 2020 No Comments

By Lewis Eggleston

The newest Hairspray movie came out soon after I did. As a gay kid who went to college in rural South Dakota with limited options for fun, my friends and I would blast the Hairspray CD soundtrack as we drove down country roads taking time off from our textbooks for singing & dancing.

While not perfect, Hairspray is a liberative story that affirms “people who are different, their time is coming,” specifically for people of color. Based on true events, Hairspray tells the story of how one Baltimore TV station, in particular the Corny Collins Show, integrated their after-school teen dancing program. One particular song “Welcome to the 60’s” portrays Tracy’s gracious way of telling her mom to “get with the times” and while Tracy listens to her mother’s fears, she encourages her to step out anyway. During this song Tracy continually but sternly points at the tv, making her mother look at the screen. I’m about to take a leap here, but please go with me.

The Church is Mama Turnblad.

Do you see it now?

“I haven’t left this house since 1951?” – Mama Turnblad

Soon after that Tracy grabs her mother’s hand and leads her out the door until they’re outside and Mama Turnblad says, “Oh Tracy, I’m a little light-headed. There’s so much air out here. Can’t we go someplace that’s stuffy?” Tracy said, “No.”

However, the most iconic line happens, and if you blink you might miss it, Mama Turnblad says, “Your Mama’s lookin’ at herself and wonderin’ ‘where you been?'” To which Tracy immediately replies with “Where you been?!”

My Dear Church, where you been?! (To boldly paraphrase my beloved Rev. Lenny Duncan)

Now for the big finish, if you’re familiar with this movie musical then you know one of the most iconic songs in Hairspray is Motormouth Maybelle’s “I know where I’ve been” in an AMAZING performance by Queen Latifah. To me, this call and response “Where you been?!” and “I know where I’ve been” is intentional and profoundly poignant.

The reality is, for the most part, we were handed a church that acts like Mama Turnblad. The younger generations continue to pull the church into new times, pointing continuously at the tv, pleading to “get with the times”, leave your “stuffy” sanctuaries that you “haven’t left since 1951”. This call is not new, and neither is the resistance. But, it’s my belief, our collective call is to take Mama Turnblad by the hand and lead her outside into the world until she realizes she has a voice of her own and that voice has the power to make changes in the world. The hope, however, is that someday (hopefully soon) rather than taking Mama Turnblad’s hand and (sometimes forcefully) leading her out the door into the world, we’ll have a church that personifies and literally acts like & resembles Motormouth Maybelle, a church that knows where it’s been, was a leader in the struggle, has pride in her heart because she knows she’s doing the right thing even though it’s hard, and then and ONLY THEN  will our hands be gently holding each other side by side walking in the streets rather than tugging a hand that will hopefully come along like Mama Turnblad. If you don’t know where you been, how do you know where you’re going?

Let us pray, Gracious God, we confess at times we have all been Mama Turnblad, resistant to change, afraid, overly-conscious of how other’s might perceive us, but with kind hearts still. Mold us into leaders like Motormouth Maybelle, may we be a church that is fierce, fabulous, gracious, authentic, aware of other’s struggle, and present in the moment. Amen.

Lewis Eggleston (he/him/his) is the Associate Director of Development and Communications for ELM. He currently lives in Germany with his dog-child and husband awaiting the day he can travel back to visit parents, siblings, and all the nieces and nephews. He is spending his time getting to know his little village and walking the trails around the town castle. Waiting for the day he can be in another musical. 

A Devotion For The Lonely

Lewis Eggleston July 30, 2020 1 Comment

By Margarette Ouji

We are living in strange and wild times. Times that many of us have never experienced before. Many are living alone, seeing few people, and the people they are seeing are their neighbors who give them the occasional nod, and the grocery store clerk that has been working since the pandemic hit hard in March of this year. The first few weeks of “sheltering in place” weren’t too bad for me, personally. I remember seeing memes that read, “I didn’t know my preferred state of being was called quarantine.” I am a homebody and didn’t mind working from home and only going out to walk the dog and for grocery store runs. 

It is now March 235th and I feel differently. I feel lonely and worried and afraid for the future and I’m sure so many of us do. Especially for those of us with histories of trauma, living through an in real-time trauma can exacerbate our feelings of loneliness, isolation, sadness, and worry, just to name a few. One place that I find solace, where I can go to regulate my emotions, my body, and my spirit, is music. It’s also where I’ve always found God. Listening to her music made me feel like I was being wrapped up in God’s arms. Her words and voice made me feel seen in a way I had never known. In 2003, my mom took me to see Cher perform with Cyndi Lauper, a real dream come true. When Cher sang, “A Song for the Lonely”, I felt the closeness of God and all of her majesty. 

So let it find you
Where ever you may go
I’m right beside you
Don’t have to look no more
You don’t have to look no more, oh no

Her prayerful words in this song have once again found their way onto my “How to Survive A Pandemic” playlist and they continue to bring me comfort and I continue to find God in her captivating voice. I pray that you find comfort in these times of unknown and fear and worry. May God in all of her glory come to you in the mysterious and surprising ways she always does. 

Margarette (she/her/hers) has spent these months during quarantine learning new crochet patterns and moonlighting as a Logistics Specialist for a plant-based meal delivery company. This summer she served as a camp counselor with Queeranteen Camp and participated in a 6-week workshop for queer/trans Iranian-Americans. She will begin her final year of seminary as the Vicar at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Oakland, CA. Margarette is a board member of ELM and was part of the planning team for the 30th anniversary of ELM. She lives in Richmond, CA, with her wife, Abby, and their dog Luther. They’re excited to share that they are expecting their first (human) child at the end of this year!