2022 Joel R. Workin Scholars: Rachel San Diego & Jory Mickelson

Extraordinary Lutheran Ministry is pleased to announce that seminarians Rachel E. San Diego (she/hers) and Jory Mickelson (he/they) have been selected as the 2022 Joel R. Workin Scholars.

Rachel attends Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary in Berkeley, has been recommended for ministry by the Sierra Pacific Synod and is currently an intern at Immanuel Lutheran in Seattle, Washington.

Jory is an MDivX candidate at Luther Seminary, has been recommended for candidacy for the Northwest Washington Synod and is currently an intern at Christ Lutheran in Ferndale, Washington. 

Committee Chair Michael Nelson writes: We had a dozen wonderful candidates this year –the most ever – but Jory and Rachel were the voices that we felt best honored and embodied the ongoing witness and legacy of Joel Workin. 

Rachel’s sterling resume reveals a breadth of experience and steady commitment to the marginalized, as well as her work on multiple justice issues, including victims of violence. In her reflection on Joel Workin’s essay (entitled “Overflowing” which cites moments of God’s “Yes, Period” and “No, Period,” in one’s life and ministry) Rachel rousingly writes, “There is not enough white paper that could contain the stories of “No, period” that my Brown body holds.”  Later, she concludes that she “was bathed in the waters of sacredness of (her) experience … (that she has found) “Yes, period” showing up in community, in grace, and in the Holy waters between us.”

Among many other accomplishments, Jory’s resume reflects their service to the church and notes that he is the recipient of the 2020 Grace Award from the Northwest Washington to serve the LGBTQIA+ community in Whatcom County. Their elegant essay was marked with insightful moments with phrases like this: “Queer people’s gift to the church is one of rupture and disorder. LGBTQIA people ruptures the silence of what God’s people fear to speak aloud and attempt to hide away. Ruptures our private spiritualities into public faith. Ruptures the barrier that church walls have become and lets in the world.” 

On behalf of the committee, I congratulate each of the twelve fine candidates and pray they will continue to bear witness and ministry to the LGBTQIA+ community for years to come.

Each year ELM names a Joel R. Workin Memorial Scholar to honor the life and ministry of Joel Raydon Workin. Joel was one of the three seminarians who were refused ordination in 1989 after coming out to their candidacy committees. Upon his death, Joel’s parents, Ray and Betty, and other family and friends created the scholarship fund in his name to keep his prophetic voice part of the movement.  The scholarship is available for all members of Proclaim who are preparing for rostered leadership in the Lutheran church. This year’s award comes with a $7400 award for both Rachel & Jory. 

Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries organizes queer seminarians and rostered ministers, confronts barriers and systemic oppression, and activates queer ideas and movements within the Lutheran Church.

To learn more about the Workin Scholarship click here.

To read Jory and Rachel’s essays, click the links below. 

Joel Workin Scholarship_Rachel San Diego Workin Essay_Jory Mickelson

ELM Lenten Devotional – Sharei

ENOUGH: A Reflection
by Sharei Green
 
 
I always made sure to give up something for Lent. I made sure to give up something I loved, something that would be hard and noticed. I often failed. Even when I succeeded, I didn’t feel “closer to God.” So what was the point? Was I not trying hard enough? Did I lack self-control? Was I not enough like Jesus because I succumbed to temptation? These thoughts and feelings were not helpful in my journey with Christ. With age and therapy, I learned that these Lenten practices were triggering trauma.
 
I didn’t need to be reminded that I would return to dust. Existing in a Black body is reminder enough. I didn’t want to be encouraged to do penance. Being subjected to institutional racism, white supremacy and sexism is penance enough. I didn’t need a reminder of almsgiving. How I show up in and for community is alms enough. What I needed, still need, is a reminder that I am God’s beloved, that I was created in the image of God’s self — I needed to be reminded that I am enough.
 
 
With this new, enlightened understanding, my Lenten practice has changed to fit my needs. Because I needed reminding that I was made in the image of the creator, my Lenten practice became creation. As a creative, creation came easy to me but connecting it to my journey as a Christian didn’t come as easily. I had to set intention behind it. It was choosing not to order takeout, not out of a need to fight temptation, but to provide myself the opportunity to create through cooking and to see that as holy. It was choosing not to buy a new coffee table, not out of a need to go without, but to think about how I could create my own, and declare that it was good.
 
Some of the language and traditional practices of the Lenten season can be harmful to siblings who are struggling. The highlighting of death, self-control, fasting, etc. impacts individuals and communities differently. When existing in BIPOC, queer, disabled, other marginalized identities and all the intersections therein, Lent can feel like a time where we are being encouraged to look at all the ways we are seen as not enough, when the world already reminds us every chance it gets. In the midst of a pandemic that has felt much like being alone in the wilderness, and with the world seemingly on fire – war, rising food and shelter costs, capitalisms value of labor over people – what would it look like to encourage new Lenten practices, that combine prayer with intentional creation? What would it look like to ask a community what it needs for ritualistic practice and create something new that better aligns with the contexts from which folks exist within?
 
I encourage us all to take a look at the practices and messages this Lenten (and other) season(s) that do not serve us, or our communities. I encourage us all to be brave in challenging the church to consider the context and not just do things the way we’ve always done it. To let things go when needed, resurrect something new and declare it good.
 

 
Image Description: Photo of cartoon person with cross of made of ashes on their forehead with the words, “I didn’t need to be reminded that I would return to dust. Existing in a Black body is reminder enough… What I needed, still need, is a reminder that I am God’s beloved, that I was created in the image of God’s self – I needed to be reminded that I am enough.” – Sharei Green
 

 
Sharei Green (she/her) is a Womanist theologian currently pursuing her MDiv at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago.  Sharei has a strong commitment to community healing and sabbath, especially in BIPOC communities and all their intersections. She is the co-author of God’s Holy Darkness, a children’s book that deconstruct anti-Blackness in Christian theology by celebrating instances in the story of God’s people when darkness, blackness, and night are beautiful, good, and holy. She serves on staff with ELM as the operations support person. 
 

Lenten Devotional: We Claim Them/They Claim Us

by Aaron Decker
 
 
When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to YHWH, the God of our ancestors; YHWH heard our voice and…brought us out of Egypt… (Deuteronomy 26:6–8)
 
By the time the offering of first-fruits described in this Sunday’s First Testament reading actually happens, these words are false. Those standing before the priest, holding baskets of gifts, were never in Egypt. The generation rescued from the house of slavery had died long ago in the wilderness.
 
It was not us, they should say. It was our ancestors. Those who came before us. But we claim it as our own. The captors in Egypt harmed us. God rescued us.
 
Long before I was formed in my mother’s womb, this and all rituals say, this happened to me. It is ancient history, but I am also living it now. It is my story.
 
We lift bread and cup. Jesus is not re-crucified. The once-and-for-all uni/multiverse-shattering crucifixion-and-resurrection death-always-becomes-life event is not just remembered or reenacted. No— time collapses, and we are there, we have always been there, 2,000 years ago and before time began. We are tangibly, bodily, gathered in a small, upper room in old Jerusalem, dining with friends.
 
 
Are our dour, self-effacing Lenten austerities actually a fabulous dinner party in disguise? How queer!
 
And there, at the table: Ancestors whose struggles we claim as our own. Their oppressors treated us harshly and afflicted us! Their suffering is alive in us! We cried out to God in their voices! And God heard us, and—
 
God heard the queer Christian leaders whose courage in these last decades paved the way for our leadership now, and—
 
God heard the civil rights activists, the people who strove for racial and gender equity, whose work also liberated our folx’ struggle for rights, and—
 
God heard the mystics throughout history, whose imaginations could not be limited by social norms, who spoke about God’s love with shocking, erotic words that ring familiar in our ears, and—
 
God heard the nameless, forgotten, whose sainthood is greater than all the Capital-S Saints combined, whose name cards God inscribes in gold and places by hand at favored seats around that Holy Table, and—
 
These people are alive now, being rescued when God rescues us from our captors, our Egypts. Not just in our memories but in the first-fruits offered to us by Christ. Their pain, their struggles, are alive. Their joys, their triumphs, are alive. We live in them, and they in us, whenever we celebrate the Passover of our Beloved Jesus.
 
That great Passover. When YHWH heard our voice and brought us out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. It is indeed right, indeed our duty, but perhaps most of all, our joy.
 
 

 
Image Description: Photo of chalice and broken bread over an orange background with the words: we have always been there, 2,000 years ago and before time began. We are tangibly, bodily, gathered in a small, upper room in old Jerusalem, dining with friends. -Aaron Decker
 

 
Aaron Decker (he/him) is a Theological Educator in Bolivia with ELCA Service and Justice (Global Mission). He has passions for world languages, textual ambiguity, and education as liberation. He lives with his cat, Moses; like in Exodus, Aaron might talk more, but Moses is definitely in charge.
 

Love in Action: Melissa May

A New Body

by Melissa May
 
 
As a pastor on leave from call, I am a heart in search of a body.
 
Divorced from a called context, I’m waiting like an organ on ice to be transplanted into a new community. 
 
As a bisexual person, I fear rejection after the transplant to a new call. I could “pass” as straight, and I can walk through spaces of privilege without fear because I’m white and a citizen in the US. But we know this pain:  open your mouth to speak your truth, to support your allies, and rejection and abuse often happens.
 
But I’m actively working as an English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher and in a six-month Synodically Authorized Worshiping Community Exploration, basically a pre-SAWC, on the Eastern Shore of Virginia,  a peninsular sliver of the state that often gets forgotten. Both jobs actively involve walking with people from many cultures, various language abilities, and highly different social and legal statuses. 
 
The major differences between the settings? In the language-learning program, I can creatively teach and laugh and play, but I do not know if I can be open about my own “status”; in the pre-congregational Exploration, I can be fully myself under the banner of “radical inclusion,” but there are no programs yet to implement active engagement in the community.
 
 
I dream of the day when I can be in a called situation where I can be my creative, God-made, queer self among the peoples of a community, employed in both language work with diverse populations of residents/refugees and congregation-building with worship leadership and Bible study. At this point, I am engaged in the two, but they have barely been introduced to each other, so I am not sure they will marry.
 
Till my heart may be sewn up into a body not likely to reject me for my full identity, I live a vibrant life of work and play. I leave class and can say habibti (Arabic for “Good-bye, my dear”) to the women, and tell all the students that I hope they get a good grade on the quiz, inshallah (God willing). I play racing tic-tac-toe with young Afghan refugees, and play volleyball with Spanish, Arabic, and French exclamations.  And in a different setting 300 miles away,  I witness God building a new community of future worshipers who are aware of community needs–they see the rampant residue of segregation and the ten active migrant farm-worker camps– but are not sure how to address them. 
 
I must trust that somewhere I belong in a place where I can be pastor and teacher, Bible-study-guide and community empowerment leader. And I choose to trust that somewhere, somehow, my full unique self will not be rejected in the Body of Christ.
 
 

Image Description: Photo of stained glass with the words: I dream of the day when I can be in a called situation where I can be my creative, God-made, queer self among the peoples of a community... - Melissa May

Melissa May (she/her) is a pastor reaching the end of co-leading “Phase 1” of the Virginia Eastern Shore Exploration, a Synodically Authorized Worshiping Community Exploration in the Virginia Synod. She also teaches four English classes at the Intensive English Program at Eastern Mennonite University and one English class with Afghan refugees through Church World Service in Harrisonburg, VA. Her previous two calls were as a congregational pastor in Nome, AK and as a diaconal minister in Yellowknife, Canada.

Love in Action: Vica Steel

Defiant Call

By: Vica Etta Steel

 

Let me tell you a story of Call and Coming Out. Let me tell you a story of Love through pain.

 

I came out three years ago: Woman. Queer. Transgender.

I began my journey into faith leadership just over one year ago.

Until four  months ago, I couldn’t pray.

Until four  months ago, I couldn’t say the name Jesus. Or God. Not easily.

And yet I heard the call to faith leadership. I’d heard the call my entire life.

 

And  just as I knew my Call young, I also always knew I was a girl. But I learned, by kindergarten, that I needed to hide my truth. 

One moment in time: 

Laughing with friends, playing dress up. 

A mom’s heels too big on our small feet. 

Blouses became dresses. 

So much laughter.

Then. 

Laughter. 

An older brother, laughing, cutting at the heart of me.

Only one moment in time. 

One, of too many.

 

God did not err with me. Humans erred again and again. 

But this story, this story is a story of love.

Love overwhelming. Love, defiant. 

 

I have met hate. And fear. I hear prayer used as a weapon, beseeching God that I cease to exist, in my fullness. They say I am a sin. 

 

My Call story was not permitted by churches – so God gave me a different path. My faith formation came at the hands of atheists, agnostics and spiritual people. I learned of their deep belief in love, in community, in radical welcome of the outcast – values that should have been Christian values, but too often weren’t.  

Too often aren’t. 

 

And now I find a home also in faith. I have a path renewed, opened for me by the so many Queer faith leaders who fought, extraordinarily, for places in faith. I know so much of love overwhelming. 

I can never thank my elders (even those younger than me) enough.

 

And I know love, unexpected.

I am welcomed in my local church. Truly.

I am embraced in my seminary. The president, faculty, and the so many colleague students listen, hear, and uplift my Truth and our Queer stories.

In my synod, leadership works with me to begin creating a syond-wide Queer and ally youth led worship/gathering space.

Is that all? Not even my Loves. I feel every bit of hope toward futures that know 

only Love.

 

And so I can begin. 

My call story, coming out. 

 

But a beginning is far from an end.  

I begin to speak toward truth. 

I am not a sin, 

but I am a sinner. 

I have sinned the sin of silence in the face of oppression. I have sinned the sin of accepting the world as it is. I have sinned the sin of ignoring my broader family of those marginalized. For too long I turned my head from what my Black friends and family told me, that racism still rages. 

And I say, no longer. Not for me.

But I know I will fail too. How long, Oh Lord?

 

Grace lifts me up. 

 

And I learn to pray. 

Again. 

I pray for guidance to work the joyous work of facing sin directly.

And I learn to speak the divine names of Jesus: 

Love. Welcome. Uplift. Radical resistance to the world as it is. 

But I also learn to speak the name of Jesus, 

fully human. 

 

And I am called, defiantly.


Vica Etta Steel (she/her) is a woman, queer, transgender, and unexpectedly a faith leader! She attends Wartburg Theological Seminary. She preaches and does outreach at St. John’s Lutheran in Madison, WI. She keeps a ministry on TikTok (@vicasteel) where she speaks of the voice of God, never silent and always present in the world around us. 

Vica is married to her powerful wife, Stella (36 years come March!). They live with their little dog, Arabella Longbody, their leopard gecko, Snowflake, and many other creatures and plants!

Love in Action: Reflections on “Coming Out” with your Congregation – Margarette Ouji

More Than Enough

by Margarette Ouji

 

None of us are “one thing”. At any given moment we can embody so many different identities, and oftentimes, those identities will bump up against one another. If we find ourselves with our family of origin, we are one person. When we are with our chosen family, we are another. In ministry, we can often be a reflection of all of those identities, and still, feel like we cannot be all that we are. This reality of identity hopscotch can be tiresome and unforgiving. 

God calls us to be our whole selves and calls us into a loving relationship with those we serve. Sometimes that can be scary and unsettling – especially when so many of us have been told that who we are is not enough or is wrong. 

Pause. 

Who you are is more than enough. 

You are beloved. 

Yet, it can still be scary when we have been told we have to “come out” in order to have this one fabulous aspect of our identity be validated. Have we not spent so much energy hoping and praying and looking for that validation?

In seminary, I took a course on Queer Liberation Theology, and in that course, I learned about the antithesis of “coming out” and it’s called “inviting in”. It’s this idea that instead of sharing your identity with the world, you invite people in to know and love you. I invite you into my home, to share in each other’s lives, to laugh, to eat, etc. (as long as you leave before 8 pm so I can go to bed on time). 

It reminded me of how in many Iranian families when you bring someone to your family’s home, you’re welcomed in. I walk into my ameh’s (the word for aunt in Farsi) home, take off my shoes, I’m offered food, I’m guaranteed laughter, tears, and love.

Many of us cannot “come out” for reasons that do not need justification. By inviting people in, by inviting our congregations in, we are acting from a place of love. We are sharing our worlds and all of the identities that we embody. 

Recently, I was reflecting on Isaiah 43: 18-19:

“Forget the events of the past, ignore the things of long ago! Look, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth—can’t you see it? I’m making a road in the desert and setting rivers to flow in the wasteland.” 

God is doing something new in the ways that we are inviting one another into our lives, our hearts, our congregations. Newness can be scary. It is also so very queer and so very sacred. 


Image Description: Photo of field of flowers with the words: Pause. Who you are is more than enough. You are beloved. – Margarette Ouji


 

Margarette (she/her/hers) is the pastor at First Lutheran Church of Montclair, NJ. She enjoys powerlifting, crocheting, and spending time with family. Margarette currently serves as co-chairperson of the Board of ELM and is passionate about the difficult, necessary, and holy work ELM is doing. 

 

Epiphany Haiku: Lewis Eggleston

 
Image Description: The sun setting behind a small tree in a desert with the words: God giggles and burps, Mary prepares the donkey, Refugees embark… by Lewis Eggleston
 

 
Lewis Eggleston (he/him) is the Associate Director of Communications & Generosity at Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries. He is an Air Force spouse living in Germany with his husband and their dog-child, Carla. In March, after spending nearly 10 years in candidacy, Lewis will be ordained into the ministry of Word & Service! *all the enthusiastic emoji faces*

2022 Joel Workin Scholarship Announcement

Thank you for being a public witness to God’s extraordinary love for our world!

We invite you to apply for a scholarship for publicly-identified lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer+ Lutheran candidates for rostered ministry. The eligible applicant must be an LGBTQIA candidate for rostered ministry who is a member of Proclaim, the professional community of publicly-identified LGBTQIA Lutheran rostered ministers and candidates. Proclaim is a program of Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries. All application materials are due no later than February 3, 2022.

This honor is given in the name of Joel Raydon Workin, one of our movement’s saints. Joel was one of the three seminarians who came out about their sexual orientation to their Lutheran candidacy committees in 1989 (and were subsequently refused ordination). This act of faithfulness was the spark that ignited our movement of resistance and affirmation of LGBTQIA people called to rostered ministry in the Lutheran church. Joel passed away from AIDS on November 29, 1995. Upon Joel’s death, friends and family established a fund to honor his memory. Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries is the custodian of the fund and scholarship. Each year, Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries names a Joel R. Workin Memorial Scholar.

Due to events related to the pandemic of 2021, no scholarship was awarded. In 2022, however, The Workin Committee will award two scholarships in the amount of $7,400 for qualified educational or candidacy expenses to two LGBTQIA candidate for rostered ministry. In addition, the 2022 Scholars will be invited throughout the year to be involved with various ELM activities. We request that all funds be used prior to December 1, 2022 and if possible, that all funds be used for a single event or activity.

Previous Workin Scholars include:

  • Reed Fowler
  • Cassie Hartnett
  • Leon LaCross
  • Benjamin Hogue
  • Christephor Gilbert
  • Justin Ferko
  • Amy Christine Hanson
  • Gretchen Colby Rode
  • Rebecca Seely
  • Asher O’Callaghan
  • Emily Ewing
  • Laura Kuntz
  • Julie Boleyn
  • Matthew James
  • Jen Rude

The Joel R. Workin Memorial Scholar is someone whose character and abilities are consistent with Joel’s legacy. Among these are: academic excellence, personal and professional integrity, courage in response to the church’s discriminatory policies, a passion for social justice, faithfulness to Jesus Christ and potential to become an effective leader in church and society.

 

Application Materials

The scholarship application includes the following components:

  • Essay
    •  Attached is a PDF of Joel’s essay, “Overflowing.” Joel’s writing is a gift and we hope you find his essays useful throughout your ministry. Joel was a brilliant writer and your essay is one of the most important parts of your application. This year’s writing includes a brief paragraph response and a 1,000 – 1,500 word essay on the attached Workin essay.
  • A copy of your current resume.
    • Please note any Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries/Proclaim activities.
  • A professional recommendation from someone (professor, pastor or other rostered professional) who can testify to your qualifications specific to this honor and award.
    • The recommendation letter should be on official letterhead.
  • Copy of your transcript from seminary or divinity school (unofficial is fine).

 

All materials are due no later than Thursday, February 3, 2022.

All application materials must be submitted electronically in PDF to workinscholarship@elm.org. Please put “Joel R. Workin Scholarship Application” in the subject line. You may submit your letter of reference with other materials, or your reference letter writer may email it directly.

The scholarship committee will notify applicants of its decision on or before Feb 7, 2022.

On behalf of the Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries, Joel’s family and friends, and the members of Proclaim, we commend this opportunity to you and invite your application. We hope that you will consider honoring Joel’s memory in this way.

If you have any questions, please email operations@elm.org.

 

The Joel R. Workin Memorial Scholarship Committee:

Michael Price Nelson (chair)  

Greg A. Egertson

Rev. Jeff R. Johnson

Rev. Becca Seely

Rev. Matt James

Rev. Kelsey Brown

 

2022 Joel R. Workin Essay

Joel Workin was known for his prophetic and expansive voice. His friends refer to his “humor, incisive mind, and deep, caring spirit.” Even now, decades after these essays were written, Joel’s words are fresh and relevant. We bring Joel’s voice to life each year as we invite Workin Scholar applicants to read and respond to Joel’s writing in new ways. Each year, we seek to find Joel’s voice in new ways through new voices.

Please submit the following two pieces of writing.

 

  1. Please write a paragraph or two in response to the following question: What is the prophetic word that LGBTQIA people can bring to the church today?
  2. Please read Joel’s essay entitled “Overflowing” (linked here) and write a 1,000 – 1,500 word reflection on the passage below:
    • As an LGBTQIA person, where have you heard and spoken “Yes, period” and “No, period” on your journey of call thus far? In this challenging and uncertain time of pandemic and polarization, do you see the church being called to move more fully into God’s “Yes, period” and what particular gifts do you think LGBTQIA people bring to God’s people?

ELM Advent Haiku -Noah Herren

 

 


Image Description: Photo of a sparks & ambers from a fire with the words: salt and light converge, the Spark beckons from afar, Come! See! A New Thing… Noah Oliver Herren


 

Rev. Noah Oliver Herren (he/him/his) is the Pastor of St. Luke Lutheran Church in Atlanta, GA. Noah attributes his passion for ministry and spirituality to a journey of reconciling multiple theologies and his experience as a transgender man raised in the deep South. In his downtime you will find him amassing books he may read one day, forest bathing, binging Netflix, falling down virtual rabbit holes, creating things, and spending time with friends and family. 

ELM Advent Haiku: Caleb Crainer

 
 

 
Image Description: Photo of a manger on a hay covered floor with the the words A small beginning, A medium long lived life, A large unfurling by Caleb Crainer
  

 
 
Caleb Crainer (he/him/his) serves as pastor at St. Andrew’s Lutheran Church in Los Angeles, California and Dean of the LA Metro Conference in the Southwest California Synod. He serves as the First-Call Accompaniment Coaching Convener in Proclaim. His favorite parts of ministry are getting to read whatever he wants and meandering into grace every day.