John 18:1-19:42

            Then Jesus went out with his disciples across the Kidron valley to a place where there was a garden. He and his disciples went in.

            Judas, his betrayer, knew this place, because Jesus and the disciples often met there.

            So, Judas brought a band of soldiers along with police from the chief priests and the Pharisees, and went there with lanterns, torches, and weapons.

            Then Jesus, knowing all that was to happen to him, came forward and asked them, "Who are you looking for?"

            They answered, "Jesus of Nazareth."

            Jesus stated, "I am."

            Judas, his betrayer, was standing with them.
            When Jesus said to them, "I am," they stepped back and fell to the ground.

            Jesus repeated his question, "Whom are you looking for?"

            And they said, "Jesus of Nazareth."
            "I told you,” Jesus answered, “ I am. So if you are looking for me, let these men go."

            (He said this to fulfill the words that he had spoke, “I did not lose a single one of those whom you gave me.")
            Then Simon Peter had a sword. He drew it, struck the servant of the high priest, and cut off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus.

            "Put your sword back into its sheath,” Jesus said to Peter, “Do you imagine I am not going to drink the cup my father has given me?”

            So the soldiers, their officer, and the Judean police, arrested Jesus and bound him.

First they took him to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. Caiaphas was the one who had advised the Judeans that it was better to have one person die for the people.

            Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. The other disciple was known to the high priest; he went with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, but Peter stood outside the gate. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out, spoke to the woman who guarded the gate, and brought Peter in.
            The woman at the gate spoke to Peter:

            “You are not also one of this man's disciples, are you?"

            He replied, "I am, not."
            It was cold. The slaves and the police had made a charcoal fire. They were standing around it, warming themselves. Peter also was standing with them and warming himself.

            Then the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching.
            "I have spoken openly to the world,” was Jesus’ reply, “I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Judeans come together. I have said nothing in secret. Why are you asking me? Ask those who heard what I said to them; they know what I said."
            When Jesus said this, one of the police standing nearby slapped him on the face, saying, "Is that how you answer the high priest?"
            "If I have spoken wrongly,” Jesus answered, “testify to the wrong. But if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?"
            Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.

            Meanwhile, Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, "You are not also one of his disciples, are you?"

            He denied it saying, "No, I am not."
            One of the high priest’s servants, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, spoke up, "Did I not see you in the garden with him?"
            Again Peter denied it, and instantly the cock crowed.

            Then they took Jesus from Caiaphas to the Praetorium, where the governor was stationed. It was early in the morning. They themselves did not enter the Praetorium, because they were anxious not to become ritually unclean, and unable to eat the Passover meal.

            So Pilate went outside to ask, "What accusation do you bring against this man?"
            “If he wasn’t wicked,” they replied, “we wouldn’t be handing him over to you.”

            “Then take him yourselves and judge him by your law,” Pilate replied to them.

            “We are not allowed to put anyone to death,” the Religious Leaders replied (This was so that the word of Jesus might come true, when he had indicated what sort of death he was going to die.)

            So Pilate re-entered the Praetorium, summoned Jesus, and asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?"
            “Was it your idea to ask that?” Jesus responded, “or did others tell you about me?"

            “I am not a Jew, am I?” Pilate replied, “Your own people, and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?"
            Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Judeans. Clearly, my kingdom is not that sort of kingdom.”

            “So!” Pilate said, "you are a king?"

            Jesus answered, "You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice."
            “What is truth?” Pilate asked him.

            With those words, he went back out to the Crowd, who had gathered, and told them, "You have no case, he is not guilty. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you ‘The King of the Jews’?"
            “Not this man,” they shouted in reply, "No, give us Barabbas!" (Barabbas was an insurgent.)

            So Pilate re-entered the Praetorium. There he took Jesus and had him flogged.
            The soldiers wove a crown of thorns, put it on his head, and dressed him up in a purple robe. They would approach him, announcing, "Hail, King of the Jews!" and then strike him on the face.

            Pilate went out yet again, "Look,” he said, “I am bringing him out to you, so that you will know that I still find no case against him, he’s without guilt.”
            So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe.

            “Behold!” Pilate said to them, "Here is the man!"
            When the chief priests and the police saw him, they shouted, "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

            Pilate said to them, "Take him yourselves and crucify him; I find him not guilty."

            They answered him, "We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he claimed to be the Son of God."

            Now when Pilate heard this, he was more afraid than ever. He re-entered the Praetorium and asked Jesus, "Where are you from?"

            Jesus gave him no answer, so Pilate said to him, "Do you refuse to speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?"
            "You would have no power over me,” Jesus replied, “unless it had been given you from above; therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.”

            From then on Pilate tried to release him, but the crowd cried out, "If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor."

            When Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus out and he sat on the judge's bench,

The bench called “The Stone Pavement” (or in the Hebrew, Gabbatha).
            It was about noon on the day of Preparation for the Passover. “Look,” said Pilate, "Here is your King!"

            They cried out: “Away with him! Away with him!” and “Crucify him!"

            Pilate asked them, "Shall I crucify your King?"

            The chief priests answered, "We have no king but the emperor."

            Then he handed him over to them to be crucified and they took Jesus away.

            Jesus carried his own cross

and he went out to what is called “The Place of the Skull,” (or in the Hebrew, Golgotha), that was where they crucified him. They also crucified two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.

            Pilate also had a notice written and put on the cross.

JESUS OF NAZARETH

THE KING OF THE JEWS

            Many Judeans read this notice, because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, in Latin, and in Greek.

            Then the chief priests said to Pilate, "Do not write, 'The King of the Jews,' but, 'This man said, I am King of the Jews.'"
            “What I have written I have written,” Pilate answered.
            When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his clothes and divided them into four parts, one for each soldier. They also took his tunic, which was made of a single piece of cloth. So they said to one another, "Let us not tear it, but diced for it, to see who will get it." This was to fulfill what the scripture says, "They divided my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they decide with dice."

            And that is what the soldiers did.

            Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.

            Jesus saw his mother and beside her, the disciple whom he loved.

            “Mother,” he said to her, “here is your son."
            Then he spoke to the disciple.

            "Here is your mother."

            From that hour the disciple welcomed Mary into his own home.

            After this, when Jesus knew that all was completed, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture), "I am thirsty."

            A jar full of sour wine was standing nearby, so they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth.
            Jesus drank it, and then said, "It is finished."

            Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

            It was the day of Preparation. The coming Sabbath was an especially solemn and sensitive one, so the Judeans did not want the bodies left on the cross during that time. So they asked Pilate to have the legs of the crucified men broken and the bodies removed.

            The soldiers came and broke the legs of the men who were crucified with Jesus, first the one, then the other. But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead. They did not break his legs.

            Instead, one of the soldiers thrust a spear into his side, and at once blood and water came out.

(He who saw this has testified truthfully. His testimony is true, and he knows that he tells the truth, so that you too may believe.)
            These things occurred so that the scripture might be fulfilled, "None of his bones shall be broken."

            And again another passage of scripture says, "They will look on the one whom they have pierced."
            After all this, Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Joseph was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Religious Authorities.

            Pilate gave him permission; so he came and took his body.

            Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, came too. He brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds.

They took Jesus’ body and wrapped it with spiced cloth, according to the burial custom of the Jews.
            Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been buried. So, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation, and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.

Sermon: Christ Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Christ Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

          Nicholas, the meal you will receive this evening

—Holy Communion,

your first communion

—is a special meal.

It is a meal that reveals Jesus Christ to you, to us…

Reveals Jesus Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow,

in this meal we find the Christ of Memory, Christ in our Midst, and the Christ to Come.

Prayer

          Today we remember,

today we experience the Christ of Memory
-the Christ of Memory… in this church today, at that table right over there, we remember the words the Apostle Paul passes on to the Christians in Corinth as they wrestle with question of how to eat together as equals, in a world that insists on inequality.

-The Christ of Memory… Paul remembering words he’d received from Jesus’ disciples, described in multiple gospels, the words Jesus said on the night before he was handed over to Rome, killed by the powerful and the pious. Jesus’ promise, his covenant with us, made in this meal.

-The Christ of Memory…Jesus’ last meal also a Passover meal,
Passover a meal of memory too
—remembering God saving the People down in Egypt, a meal of flat bread for fast escape out of Egypt.

The Christ of memory in this meal of memory…

          Today we experience God with us, Jesus Christ in our midst, in this meal…

-Christ in our midst… God is everywhere, that is true, but here in this meal we experience him, because he promised to show up, so we are uniquely conscious of him—here in this meal Christ with us,
and where Christ is there is always forgiveness and love.

-Christ in our midst…the physicality of this love, a meal, consuming it, the promise becoming part of you,
-grit in your teeth, love…
-the warmth of wine, love.

-Christ in our midst… the physicality of it… love…
love commanded at our feet…
love not only described but enacted
—the intimacy, the closeness, the tenderness
—love one another in this way, kneel in service to one another, love one another with humility and amid one another’s humanity and mess…

-Christ in our midst… yes, here in community, here in word, here in meal, here in service of neighbor.

Christ is in our midst in this meal.

          Today we look for the Christ to come, the Christ of the future, the future feast to come, which is already here…

-Christ to come… when we become smug, confident in our own powers, we’ll look forward to the Great Feast to come and realize the Great Host will humble himself and wash our feet and be self-giving to the point of giving his very life.

-Christ to come… when we have been stripped bare, empty-handed, tears in our eyes, shell shocked by life, we’ll look forward to the Great Feast to Come, where every tear will be wiped away and we shall be sheltered by the wings of the Mother Hen, fed with the bread of life and cup of salvation.

-Christ to come… this future feast, running backward like water down a hill, filling our present with it’s power, shaping us to live into that which shall be—a gravity, an unseen force pulling us into the future.

The Christ to come in this meal today.

Christ Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Christ in this meal which is an amazing exchange, the very commerce of the City of God. Christ and all His holy ones taking on all that is wretched within us and replacing it with all that is blessed, that we might continually turn ourselves to our neighbors in need, continuing this great exchange, for God does not need what he has already blessed us with, however our neighbor does.

Christ with all who cry to God, even in their silent yearnings, for freedom and an end to slavery.

Christ in this meal with friends, betrayers, deniers, doubters
—disciples all.

Christ in all times and places, in Catacombs and Cathedrals and infant’s crib, by bedside and graveside.

Christ closer than we will ever know.

Christ known in grit and fire, the physicality of our life
—this very moment.

Christ in emptiness and in fullness, the weighty pull of both.

Christ calling us forward to the future feast.

In this meal, the Christ of Memory, Christ in our Midst, and the Christ to Come.

Amen.

Sermon: Seeing Jesus

         Today’s gospel reading is the start of the very long speech Jesus gives in the Gospel of John before his crucifixion--one that doesn’t stop until he’s before Pontius Pilate at the judge’s seat. The whole thing is a long interpretation of Christ’s death on the cross.

         It begins with these Greeks—righteous gentiles worshipping outside the temple—drawn to this new teacher Jesus. They try to do things in an orderly way, talk to Philip, who talks to Andrew, who talks to Jesus. Philip, who earlier had brought people to Jesus by saying “follow me.” Andrew, who earlier brought people to Jesus by saying, in such a welcoming manner that I hope the lot of you emulate when you tell people about Jesus, “Come and see.”

         But now, things seem different. I believe it is because the cross, the crucifixion, the coming solemn days of Good Friday, are already imposing themselves upon the story and upon the souls of the disciples. The shadow of the cross holds sway with its urgency—I believe its urgency changes the aim of the story—no longer are Andrew and Phillip doing the job of gathering in, an outward focus of Jesus’ ministry, but instead they are moving forward with him, forward to the conflict of Palm Sunday, to the last command and betrayal, to the Passion of Christ and his eventual victory… they are going forward with him, so these Greeks are too late to See Jesus… both I suppose too late and too early… too late to see the first half of his journey and too early to see his resurrection and ascension.

They might feel a little like the Apostle Paul, who writes that he himself is one “untimely born” because he did not meet Jesus before the resurrection. Or, even, they might feel a little like us—with our own yearnings for religious certainty, right?

At the end of the day all of us only have 2^nd hand accounts and a distant connection to Christ—we keep these powerful promises in jars of clay—we are kept close to Christ only by the Spirit.

Yet Paul, and us, and these Greeks will, in time, see an image of strange glory—the cross of Christ
—Jesus enthroned as Lord of All
—inaugurated through execution
—we will see a strange glory on Good Friday.

We will see Jesus, through the cross.
The eyes of the Baptized are opened by his death,
the Christian unknowingly wears eyeglasses in the shape of the cross…
tinted with cross…
cross-tinted glasses.

We see God, most clearly, through the lens of the cross—that was one of Luther’s greatest insights into the Christian life
—that everything looks different because the Messiah died on the cross
—because our Lord has gone through death…
how does the person across from you in the pew look different knowing you both have a share in Christ’s death?
How do people in power, how do religious leaders (myself included) look knowing that when God showed up the powerful and the religious took the first shots at him?
How do those mourning, sick, weakened, despairing, despised, look—when your heart holds within it a crucified Lord?

Does it make you think of a single seed, buried, died, rising as fruitful sheaves of wheat?
Does it make you think, maybe, of caterpillars—becoming butterflies.
Mustard seeds, so small, blooming as a giant tree where all find rest?
Death itself giving way to new life…

Does it change you? Do these new eyes also produce a new step—steps more in line with the footsteps of our master and friend? Does it not make everything new, and also strange? Life itself becoming strange, because we now live it in Christ…
doesn’t it sometimes feel like the life of a butterfly in a caterpillar world?
Abundant fruit in a world that insists upon sparse seeds,
doesn’t it feel like… for lack of a better way of saying it… the life of life to a world of death?
Or to dial it back a bit, are we not citizens of a heavenly home, are we not colonists of heaven here on earth?

Yes, this is what the strange path of discipleship, following Jesus, can feels like… a rejection, hating, of a lesser type of life, a shriveled version of the world, in order to be embraced by the greater world and life found in Christ Jesus… and often embracing a deeper life looks a lot like death to those on the other side…

think of how former friends treat you when you are in recovery from addiction

—or thinking a little less extremely, I can only imagine what young Christ Halverson would think of me today—wait, you don’t stay up until 2am every night reading—you actually buy that old adage, “every hour of sleep before midnight is worth 2 after.”

Or even more dire, “wait, you live in Jersey, and like it?!?”

Right, life looks different on the other side, new life can look like death—a cocoon can look like a tomb to a caterpillar.

Faithfulness to the full life found in Christ involves cross,

not because we seek it, but because living faithfully in a world where death believes that it reigns, leads to conflict. Treading the path of Jesus in Caesar’s world—leads to cross.

How does this way of life sound to you? This new way of walking, following Jesus. This new way of seeing the world, through lenses tinted with Christ’s crucifixion… I’d imagine it sounds different depending on how you are listening.

To those attached to the world of Caesar and Death, a status quo world that ignores or oppresses the hurting, hated, sick and dying—when we listen with those types of ears—the way of the cross is nothing but
a sounding gong,
a clash of cracked symbols,
a clap of thunder devoid of meaning…

But to those in tune with the beat of Jesus’ feet, those times when we’re in tune with that
—it sounds like the tongues of angels,
a heavenly chorus,
the very voice of Father to Son, Son to Father, all spoke through the Spirit
—the grand unity of the divine, the concert of the Trinity played out upon our ears.

These words affirming the place of the faithful, the path upon which they trod—letting them know the life they embrace even in the face of ridicule, punishment, even death, is a greater life than the life built on death which is on offer
—the false life that takes Jesus’ life, but in so doing is judged as in league with death.

Christ’s execution, being lifted up upon the cross—lifts him up for all to see, the words, “This is the King” over the cross—lifted up there,

-Lifted up too at the resurrection! Salvation promise, new life and life beyond death—ours too.
-Lifted up a third time as he ascends to the right hand of God, given power to push forward his disciples in every age: meeting us when we meet each other, as the Word meets you right now in scripture and sermon, in the blessed meal, he promises to show up, in our loving acts for all those in need when we leave this building to go out and be the Church

—his heavenly reign writ oh so large… so large that these Greeks, they eventually do see Jesus—for all are drawn to Christ as he is lifted up

—all, These Greeks, that untimely born apostle and persecutor of the church, Paul, you and I, caught up on our own uncertainties and yearnings—all of us, drawn to Jesus Christ. A

Sermon: You were dead, but now you live

You were dead, but now you live.

You were dead, but now you live.

You were a child of wrath, but through God’s grace you have been connected to Christ.

You were condemned and perishing, but God gave you Jesus that you may have eternal life.

How do you hear this good news today?

I often wonder at what point language breaks down for people—the point where you hear things without hearing things. It becomes blasé or somehow the explosive power of such statements ceases to work? These promises of God become dynamite that was soaked, the powder is wet, the charge dissipated.

I wonder at this, and wonder even more how to recharge these words, refill the powder and dry off the dynamite, that again the Gospel will move you… I wonder this even as I know there is nothing I can do—it is the Spirit’s work alone, I can simply plead to God that the words of scripture and sermon might kill you and make you alive again.

Prayer

You were dead, but now you live.

For those of you here last week, remember my description of breaking and keeping the 10 commandments? I’d imagine at some point you felt convicted—I know I did, and I’m the preacher—felt that there are times when you live your life in a way that honors an idol instead of God—times you don’t love your neighbor in conscious and intentional kind of way.

It is like you are ruled by some combination of selfishness, terror, exhaustion, and boredom, that make you dishonor God and harm your neighbor. Some of it is self-rule, internal rebellion against God, some of it comes from outside yourself, from any number of powers that shape you and your actions… all of it undermining love of God and neighbor.

Well, there is good news, those forces that defy God, are overcome by Jesus Christ, we’re saved by him from them, it is a gift, this new way of life in Christ.

Yes, it still seems that all these other rulers are in control, have won the day, but subtly Christ rules—in kindness, in humility, as an ongoing gift, Christ reigns through the weak power of love—putting all others on notice as to what true power, obedience, and rule looks like, they are all overthrown by the love Jesus Christ has for us.

You were dead, but now you live.

You were dead, but now you live.

It is as if you have went on a long journey—to a new and strange land, where you don’t speak the language, where the culture is foreign, where everyone is a stranger…

And yet, through some alchemy you’ve been given a great gift. Those who were strangers, become neighbors. The land and language and culture, become part of you—a joyful part of you, part of your journey, part of your story. Yes, you left home, but this new place is your home too.

What was this great gift, this magical mystical thing that transformed everything for you? It is the wideness of God’s love—God loves the whole cosmos, the whole world, everyone—and that love sparkles just the same on distant shores, just the same where you are. You were a stranger in a strange land, that land too is loved by God, and that fact transforms all the strangeness—sanctifies it, stirs it up into new life.

You were dead, but now you live.

You were dead, but now you live.

You are like the majority of people in this country—you experience the epidemic of loneliness, of disconnection, even as our technological world as connected us 24/7.

You feel scattered, from yourself and from those you know and love, from even the center of what it means to be alive. You cynically throw off any big question you might have, because you no longer trust that big questions matter.

You’ve been led to believe radical individualism, pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps or fail forever, me me me is a correct creed, even as some small Jiminy Cricket conscious inside you shouts in an easily downed out voice, “This doesn’t feel right!”

Well, just know you are not alone, not on your own, your seemingly scattered soul, it is held by God. You are connected to Jesus—Together alive, together raised, together enthroned. Co-living, co-elevated, co-seated—at the table with him, invited and attending the great banquet of God—the feast that Jesus continually tells us about in his stories of the Kingdom of God commonly called parables.

You were dead, but now you live.

You were dead, but now you live.

Like frauds or spies we hide our deeds deep down, because we fear they fall short. And they do.

But be not afraid, for through Jesus Christ our deeds rise up and are revealed, a scary prospect, except that they can be transformed, made into a good and new way of life lived to love God and love neighbor—no longer hidden, but instead shown forth as done in God.

You were dead, but now you live.

How do you hear this good news today?

You were condemned and perishing, but God gave you Jesus that you may have eternal life.

You were a child of wrath, but through God’s grace you have been connected to Christ.

You were dead, but now you live.

Amen.

Some thoughts on ULS

Trigger warning—Conversion Therapy, Gaslighting, and Rape.

So, first off, here is some background from wiser and more informed people than I about what is currently happening at ULS, a new seminary built out of LTSP, where I attended, and LTSG.

Here are the closest thing to official notes we have.

Here are some really good unofficial notes from Pastor Lura Groen.

Here are Pastor Groen’s follow up reflections.

Here, as well, is ELM’s statement.

Finally, here is where a bunch of letters in support of Dr. Latini from the board and bishops were, but have since been taken down.

A History of This

            In my first year at LTSP the non-first year students would occasionally mention a rape that was “covered up” on campus. It was my first year and there was so much going on that I never dug any deeper.

            Then a well-known and beloved campus security officer was fired, and the students were not told what that was all about. He may or may not have taken petty cash. I distinctly remember some students fighting against the administration’s silence by setting up a camera hovering over a 20-dollar bill in the quad.

            Then there was a passive aggressive fight between faculty and students in favor of “Black Church and Multi-cultural” Worship and those who favored “Orthodox Lutheran” (read European) Worship. The whole thing felt like it was done in whispers and shadows and was really dysfunctional. This conflagration eventually heated up to the point that the administration let it be known that there are things students just don’t need to be aware of, the seminary isn’t our home, it is only a place we’re at for a while, so students should just stick to their studies.

            Then a campus group hid a rat infestation in the compost, the administration cleared it out without telling anyone—and somehow this open secret and lack of communication led to a completely unnecessary blow up on campus.

            Still later, there were rumors that the Seminary had no money and none of us would get a degree because Philly was going to lose its accreditation on account of this lack of funds.

            Then there was all the semi-secrets that floated around about the creation of ULS—I was gone by then, but hear tell it fit the pattern above.

            All that to say, LTSP had an ongoing transparency and communications issue. It seemed to be fused into its DNA. So, one of my deepest hopes for the dissolution of LTSP and LTSG and the forming of ULS was that that part of LTSP’s DNA would be left behind.

The Present Situation

            And along comes the revelation that Dr. Latini, ULS’s first president, was the CEO and poster child of a gay conversion organization. She did not disclose this on her resume, because she didn’t include anything about herself before she was ordained. She later told Rev. Dr. Elise Brown, the chair of ULS’s board, about her past. Rev. Dr. Brown made some inquires on her own and then did not pass this information on to the board. Then, either in November or December, she did so, maybe after a board member was informed of Dr. Latini’s history. Fast forward to February, somehow this information got out, and everyone feels betrayed or worse. 

A few thoughts:

-Reparative Therapy is unconscionable.

-In the 1990’s, living in Wyoming, I was at a very different place in my understanding of sexual orientation and gender issues writ large and might have bought Reparative Therapy as a humane way to help gay folk. Moving out of Wyoming, the enormous cultural shifts in our country during that time, and frankly exposure to LGBT+ people (especially at LTSP) has made such a position seem disgusting to me today.
-I feel for Dr. Latini. Reading between the lines I’d imagine part of the reason she applied to work for an ELCA seminary was because folk from all sides of her own denomination (PCUSA) had used her “conversion” and then her repudiation of conversion therapy as a bludgeon against one another. I can imagine just wanting to start fresh, let the Lutherans take me as I am now without using my person and past in polarizing ways.

-Having gone through the candidacy and call process of the ELCA—I was under a microscope for 6 years just to get interviewed for a call. Then before the “job interview” they googled my name, they read multiple pages of search results, and read basically every one of my blog entries (poor call committee, I’m freakin’ tedious). I wish ULS’s board had done at least that in this situation regarding Dr. Latini’s online footprint.

-Within that process, at my call vote, the congregation I serve asked me about my sexual orientation (which I refused to reveal). I’m a straight white cis-guy and that line of questioning made me feel uncomfortable and angry. I wonder how Dr. Latini is feeling as East Coast Lutherandom scrutinizes that aspect of her life.

-I wonder too how LGBT+folk at ULS are holding up? What would they like folk connected but outside the institution to be doing?

-Reading the notes from the Q and A session, the ULS board seems out of touch with a world where Google exists and LGBT+folk ought to be respected like everyone else. I’m especially surprised by Dr. Brown’s part in all of this. As a board member of ELM I wouldn’t expect that she would hide information about gay conversion therapy or be part of a group who would write off such a thing as “no big deal.”

-I’m astonished the board and bishops who wrote letters defending Dr. Latini would take them down—this isn’t 1984, there are no memory holes.

-There needs to be a non-board group that establishes a clear timeline of what happened and who knew what when, because the official one has holes in it and feels like something is being hidden.

-I pray for ULS.

My question:

The way in which Dr. Latini was hired seems to fit LTSP’s pattern of miscommunication and resistance to transparency. ULS is still a very young institution, how will ULS use this particular blow-up as a place from which to brake this pattern you’ve inherited from one of your parent institutions?