Lesbian pastor integrates seamlessly in new Berwyn church

After years of declining membership, two Lutheran churches in Berwyn recently were forced to merge.

While the new church faces many issues as it struggles to adapt to modern society, no one seems to have any qualms about the new pastor, the Rev. Julie Boleyn, who was ordained Jan. 14.

Calm, charismatic and serene in the strength of her faith, Boleyn also is the first lesbian to be ordained in the Greater Metropolitan Chicago Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

For several years, both the United Berwyn Lutheran Church and the First Lutheran Church of Berwyn — the two congregations that merged to create Unity Lutheran Church of Berwyn — were known for as “reconciling in Christ” churches that accepted openly gay and lesbian people as members.

So when it came time to call on a new pastor for Unity Lutheran, their leader’s orientation wasn’t an issue. Instead, the congregation looked at the leadership qualities of each candidate, said Wayne Parthun, a council member for the new church.

“I think you have to look at the realities of life today. It's just the idea that, let's look at what this person brings. Their orientation, private-life wise, it's not an issue,” Parthun said. “Nobody even flinched when the recommendation was made.”

Boleyn, 36, has been married to her partner since 2004, and the couple has a 3-year-old daughter. And her ordination has not only been handled with complete acceptance, but a welcome indifference, she said.

“Already, it's pretty well a non-issue around here ... and that's totally how it should be. My life should get to be boring,” Boleyn said. “Their focus and their passion is about how do we minister in Berwyn now.”

Although Boleyn's integration in Berwyn has been seamless, her path to the pulpit wasn’t always easy.
She decided she wanted to enter the seminary in 1999, but the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America — the largest Lutheran denomination in the country of which Unity Lutheran is a member — didn’t begin ordaining gay and lesbian ministers until 2009.

“In 1999, there wasn't even a hint that they would change policy, so my deciding to go to seminary at that time was just completely nuts,” Boleyn said. “At each step of the way, basically I was breaking the rules, and they had to approve my breaking of the rules or postpone their decision to say no.”

Until recently, gays and lesbians were only allowed in the church if they practiced celibacy, but Boleyn refused and always listed her wife on her entrance forms.

The Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, where Boleyn attended seminary, initially tried to deny her and her partner housing, although they later relented when they were informed that denying housing to a person based on their sexual orientation is illegal, Boleyn said. Later, while interning at a Chicago church and pregnant with her daughter, Boleyn said some people refused to interact with her.

Although it was difficult to deal with the intolerance, her faith was crucial to mustering the strength to overcome it.

“Part of my own faith journey is recognizing that God's love was for me, even though and even because I am a lesbian,” Boleyn said. “I am a beloved child of God for the wholeness of who I am.”

While gay and lesbian pastors have been uncontroversial in the Chicago area, they’ve had a drastic effect on the wider Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, said Wayne Miller, bishop of the Greater Chicago Metropolitan Synod.

Only two congregations out of 200 in his synod splintered off after the decision to allow gay pastors; between 500 and 600 of the national church’s 10,000 congregations departed, Miller said.

“Some congregations just feel that the church has departed too far from its basic ethical values and others are celebrating the fact that we've opened ourselves up,” he said. “I certainly would not want to minimize the fact that it's been very painful for us, but we're going through with it and we're going to be strong.”

Despite the challenges opening the new church has caused, Miller is excited by the opportunity to expand the Lutheran base.

“It's making things possible that weren't possible before,” he added. “I see it as an opportunity to develop a faith relationship with a whole population of people that we have been not been able to build a relationship with in the past.”

To Boleyn, her orientation doesn’t obligate her to attempt to reach out to the gay community or cater to them specifically. While she hopes to attract more people to the church, the orientation of new members is not as important as the larger message of faith.

“I think our job as the church is to attend to and orient ourselves to the neighborhood. The reality about Berwyn is that there's a lot of gay and lesbian folks here, and if having me here makes them feel more welcome, that's great, but we don't get to pick and choose who we minister to,” Boleyn said.

The warm welcome Boleyn has received has given her hope. Not a single member of the church has decided to leave over her orientation, Parthun said.

That, in turn, gives this new face and Lutherans in Berwyn the needed freedom to move into a new era.

“It gives people the energy to re-imagine what church can be and the grace to move beyond the old traditions, while respecting the traditions that are still helpful,” Boleyn said.