I was awe-struck by the gentleness, kindness, true humanity, and love.
05 Dec 2004
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Reflections by Adair Ruff of First United Methodist Church of Germantown |
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Beth reached out to her accusers, judgers and sentencers
05 Dec 2004
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Reflection by George Herold of First United Methodist Church of Germantown |
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In G*dde's loving arms...
14 Dec 2004
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"Reverend Beth Stroud is a good pastor."
"Reverend Beth Stroud has great integrity and faith."
"Reverend Beth Stroud is a devoted follower of Jesus Christ."
These phrases and/or very similar ones were repeated many times during her United Methodist Church trial for being a "self-avowed practicing homosexual".
What was conspicuously absent to me as someone who is pastorally trained, and who has been spiritually present over the years with a *number* of people who have been abused and/or traumatized by church professionals, members of their families, or others they trusted was any mention at all that Beth behaved in ways that might betray the trust of her congregation, loved ones, or the wider church.
Beth's crime was to tell the truth about who she is.
As a member of Soulforce and part of a United Methodist Congregation, I was priviledged to vigil at and attend the trial held at Camp Innabah, a United Methodist church camp in the Eastern PA conference, of which the church Beth serves, UMC of Germantown is a member.
During the first morning, the weather was really grim and ominous.
While the trial court (jury) was being chosen, intense rain and winds up to at least 50 miles an hour were lashing those of us outside vigiling with signs urging "STOP the Spiritual Violence". At times the wind was so fierce it felt like it might sweep those of us holding banners and umbrellas up toward the top of the conference center gym.
At noon, we gathered inside for communion and amidst teetering and falling trees, the power went out.
This caused some delay in the proceedings, while camp staff efficiently put up porta-johns, made sure attendees' cars were safe from floods and falling
trees, and got a generator started so there would be power for the microphones officers of the court used so their words could be heard.
The way circumstances worked to stifle the voices of the institution seemed like a painful and ironic juxtaposition to the way so many lesbian, bisexual,
gay, transgender, intersex and questioning people are stifled and silenced to the point of (self-)destruction by the words of the church.
When the trial officially commenced, the phrases at the beginning of this piece began flowing from various folks' lips, including those of the prosecuting attorney and Beth's previous bishop who had brought
the charges against her. The power remained off, leaving the large lamps on the ceiling of the gym dull and lightless, though the wind continued to
periodically roar.
Sometime while Beth's attorney and staunch defender was speaking the power returned. Strikingly, the formerly dull and lightless lamps flickered, began to glow dimly, and as the attorney's words increased in passion, the lights began once again to shine radiantly. I'm unsure exactly when this happened. Emotionally, the return of light occurred at the beginning of the defense.
Sadly, the bishop presiding over the trial had disallowed the testimony of many of the defense's witnesses, and so that portion of the trial the next
morning was quite brief.
The closing statements were given, and after the trial court went out for deliberations everyone else was instructed to check back in after lunch. Communion, led by First United Methodist Church of Germantown, was moved up from noon to 11 am, then after lunch, supporters came back up the hill to vigil and sing before returning to the courtroom around 1:15. An
expectant hush fell when Bishop Yeakel asked folks to resume their seats so the trial court could come back more quickly. As the doors were once again closed, with the stern signs to leave electronic devices outside, thereby cutting off communication with the outside world, I had a viscerally devastating flash of having filed unknowingly and passively into a gas chamber. Fortunately, I was able to grab the hand of someone sitting nearby in order to recenter myself, and keep from screaming out a protest.
Shortly thereafter the trial court filed back in, and rendered their "Guilty" verdict of 12-1. They were instructed about options for penalties,and Beth's lead defense attorney pleaded with them to enact a [creative] "lesser penalty" than taking her orders as an ordained elder in the United Methodist Church. The trial court once again went out to deliberate, and most of us who had "Observer" credentials remained in and around the courtroom, sharing stories and getting to know each other. As the afternoon wore on, hope began to emerge that the trial court was struggling to come up with something other than removing Beth's orders as a clergywoman. Standing outside to get some fresh air, I was heartened by rays of sun breaking through the looming clouds. Folks waiting had just expressed interest in the camp staff ordering pizzas for dinner when the trial court returned and pronounced the devastating news that by a vote of 7-6 they had decided Beth's orders should be removed effective immediately.
As Bishop Yeakel was closing out the proceedings, Beth's supporters from outside First United Methodist Church of Germantown began humming "We Are a Gentle Angry People" and stood up, singing out as soon as he was done "We are a Jesus Loving People", "We are gay and straight together" and "We are a gentle angry people" holding hands, circling the room, and moving up to encircle Beth and Chris who were woven together with their families in the middle of media microphones and cameras.
To loosely quote the words of a powerful song written by Baptist pastor Paul Hayes "Where is justice? Where's compassion? ... in the loving arms of G*dde"
Sylvia Niedner, MDiv
Social Justice Advocate,
Broad Street United Methodist Church
Columbus, Ohio
December 14, 2004 |
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