Lutherans OK Gay Clergy: Not That There's Anything Wrong With That

As delegates from the nation's main Lutheran denomination gathered in Minneapolis this week to begin a contentious debate on homosexuality, tornado-like winds ripped through the city. The fierce gusts toppled the cross above historic Central Lutheran Church and damaged the roof of the convention center across the street from where the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) is holding its biennial General Assembly.

An omen?

Turns out the more than 1,000 lay and clergy delegates didn't heed Piper's warning. In a historic move late Friday, they effectively approved openly gay clergy by allowing local congregations to install them as pastors. That makes the 4.7 million-member ELCA the largest U.S. denomination to take such a step, and it puts it in a select category with the United Church of Christ and the Episcopal Church, which has suffered growing defections and schisms over its embrace of gays and lesbians.

So have Lutherans sown the wind (as the prophet Hosea -- and John Piper -- might have put it) with the prospect of (again) reaping the whirlwind?

It's tempting to think so, given the amount of tumult, not to mention media coverage, that has attended this issue over the past 30 years. Many get the impression the debate over gays in the church is the biggest crisis in Christianity since the Reformation. But the facts on the ground tell another story.

A survey of 2,740 U.S. congregations from 2006-07 found that only one percent of American churches, accounting for just two percent of worshipers, reported a "significant" conflict over the issue of homosexuality in the previous two years -- well behind conflicts over clergy or money.

In addition, congregations accounting for half of all American Christians allow gay and lesbian couples "in committed relationships" to be full-fledged members, and nearly one-quarter say openly gay members hold volunteer leadership positions, conclude the authors of the survey, "American Congregations at the Beginning of the 21st Century."

The upshot: "Congregations are more tolerant and inclusive than we might expect them to be, even when it comes to hot-button issues."

Why is this so? The study's authors say that there is a degree of self-selection going on, as "people who feel strongly about this issue probably have found a congregation that shares their views, whatever they are . . . so conflicts within congregations on ideological issues are less common than they might otherwise be."

Also, as the sociologist of religion Scott Thumma explained in my earlier piece on this topic, the attitude toward gays in most churches is one of "live and let live" or "don't ask, don't tell." That holds true even when it comes to senior clergy. The Minneapolis Star-Tribune reported that in Minneapolis alone, two Lutheran churches are officially listed as having vacant senior pastor positions even though both have gay clergy filling those jobs.

"There is a disconnect in most congregations between proclaimed theology and the reality in the pews," Thumma said. "Megachurches are large enough that they can tolerate an enormous amount of diversity. In smaller congregations you have to try to overlook it . . . But nobody really makes a big deal about gays." In fact, one survey found that well over half of congregants are tired of talking about the issue. And clergy, like Americans generally, report becoming more liberal about same-sex relationships over the years, which could signal an easing of tensions.

That doesn't mean all will be sweetness and light forever and ever, amen.

While Americans overall are increasingly accepting of gay relationships, that is not true of older Americans and regular churchgoers -- who are often one and the same group.

And a recent study of more than 2,600 mainline Protestant clergy in seven denominations found more than half considered the debate over the role for homosexuals as "a crisis in the church." Nine out of 10 of the clergy also said that a "don't ask, don't tell" approach was not acceptable, while also acknowledging that their congregants generally "had a difficult time" talking about homosexuality.

Moreover, when church leaders -- like those at the ELCA's General Assembly in Minneapolis -- repeatedly return to the issue, it may exacerbate local tensions. "Indeed, national conflicts probably cause rather than reflect conflicts within congregations, meaning that congregations would argue about homosexuality even less if denominations did not sometimes force them to take sides," wrote the authors of "American Congregations at the Beginning of the 21st Century."

But national church leaders on either side of the issue are not likely to let things stand as they are. Conservatives want clarity in the form of a firm statement against gay clergy and same-sex marriages, for example, while liberals and gay activists want a clear statement in support of their equality in the church. (Just six percent of American congregations have written statements officially welcoming gays and lesbians.) And the fretful center would just like to let folks be -- which is the kind of "local option" solution that the Lutherans chose on Friday, and the likely near-term compromise that other churches may adopt, officially or unofficially.

So what about that wind that seemed to foretell a shattered Lutheran church? Some are now saying it was just the Holy Spirit blowing through, with an inspiration for the delegates. But where it will head next no one knows.