Saying 'No' on the Journey to Saying 'Yes'

Many questions have arisen about the fact that there are no women on the slate of nominees for the election of a bishop in the Diocese of Newark.

Tracey Lind was a serious contender for nomination but she withdrew her name. In this sermon, appended below, she talks about the reasons for that decision.

I must tell you: When Tracey told me that she had withdrawn her name, I was devastated.

Simply, completely devastated.

I remember well the exact moment. We were standing in line, fully vested and waiting for the procession to begin at Trinity Church, Columbus for the Triennial Integrity Eucharist.

I burst into tears and wept and wept and wept. Right there on the sidewalk, in front of God, and all of my LGBT clergy colleagues.

I've known Tracey for years. She IS a bishop. The church, eventually, will hear her call and confirm it. I think she would have made a fabulous bishop for the Diocese of Newark. I would have loved to have had her as my bishop, my chief pastor.

I don't exactly know how to explain it. (Me, who is so good with words.)

She is, for me, an icon of sorts. A way to imagine the power of God. To imagine the authority of God in a new way.

She puts a (not 'the') feminine face on God - as holy yet irreverent.

Ruler and yet rebel.

Strong and yet deeply compassionate.

Warrior and yet vulnerable.

Intelligent, creative, energetic and imaginative.

I grieve the loss of her here in this diocese - the possibility of her - the potential of her.

And . . . and . . . and . . . I understand.

I have appended her sermon here, wherein she speaks of her decision to withdraw from the Newark election process.

God Bless you, my dear friend, Tracey. May all who see the things you do in the Name of Jesus give praise and honor and glory, always and everywhere, to God.


The Very Rev. Tracey Lind
A Sermon Preached on June 18, 2006
1 Samuel 15:34-16:13 - 2 Corinthians 5:6-17 - Mark 4:26-34

Our Hebrew scripture text this morning says that God does not see as mortals see. "They look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks upon the heart." These words have been on my mind for the past few days because God has been busy looking into my heart. By now most of you probably have read in the Plain Dealer about my decision to withdraw my name from consideration to be the tenth bishop of the Diocese of Newark. This morning I want to talk a bit about how this decision came to be and what I've learned from this discernment process.

First, let me say that I was incredibly surprised when I learned that our local newspaper knew that I was being considered for the position, but now I've come to realize that in this day and age of electronic media it's fairly easy to find out just about anything you want to know. However, I was very concerned when approached by a reporter at the General Convention who had heard a rumor that I had been pressured to withdraw my name for the sake of church unity. This is simply not true.

Since I did not want the newspaper to feed the rumor mill during this General Convention with the question of the full inclusion of gay and lesbian people at its heart, I talked to the reporter and explained my decision to withdraw from consideration for Episcopal leadership in the Diocese of Newark and to continue serving the church as Dean of Trinity Cathedral right here in Cleveland, Ohio.

For most of my life I have believed that one should always say "yes" to the call of service and leadership:

Will you run for student council...YES
Will you be captain of the team...YES
Will you convene this task force...YES
Will you chair this committee...YES
Will you volunteer on this board...YES
Will you serve God and God's church as a priest...YES
Will you be the rector of our parish...YES
Will you be the dean of our cathedral...YES

In my experience, one does not say "no" to God. You've heard me preach this message for over six years. Like Abraham and Sarah, Moses, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Mary, Jesus and all the rest, I've always believed that faithfulness is demonstrated by saying "yes." So when I was asked to consider the possibility of becoming a bishop in a diocese that I had served for almost fifteen years - the diocese that had ordained me to the priesthood - I said "Yes."

This was not the first time that I had been invited to consider Episcopal leadership, and it might not be the last time. Each time I have prayed about it, because as one who has pledged my life in service to the Gospel, I believe that I always must be available to consider the invitation by the Spirit to explore Episcopal leadership in our church. However, regardless of what newspaper headlines print, I am not on "a quest to become a bishop." Each situation has its contextual considerations. As I wrestled with the possibility of leaving Trinity Cathedral, moving away from Cleveland, exiting the State of Ohio and becoming the Bishop of Newark, I became deeply conflicted. And some of you have been privileged or burdened to know of my conflict.

On the one hand, it would have been a great privilege and challenge to serve as a bishop in our church, especially to serve as a bishop in my beloved Diocese of Newark. And I believe that my gifts and skills, my experience, and my manner of life would honor the office of bishop. I also did not want to disappoint some individuals in the Diocese of Newark who are really important to me...people who taught me how to be a priest and now have come to see me as one who should be a bishop. Moreover, at this particular moment in time, I did not want to disappoint my lesbian and gay sisters and brothers who are struggling for full inclusion in our church. I believe that competent and qualified openly gay and lesbian priest need to allow our names to go forward for consideration to the episcopacy. We cannot allow sexuality to be a criteria or obstacle for any level of ministry in the church. We cannot say, "Yes" to a moratorium on the consecration of gay and lesbian bishops. Gene Robinson should not have to continue to serve alone as an openly partnered gay bishop. These were the things that were pulling me toward Newark.

On the other hand, I am not ready to leave Trinity Cathedral; I am not ready to leave Cleveland; and I am not ready to leave Ohio. Our work together is not finished. We are in the middle of an urgent and absorbing mission to build a church that proclaims God's justice, love and mercy to all creation. No exceptions! We are just beginning to live into the fullness of Trinity Commons and our strategic vision of becoming one of the world's great cathedrals, a vibrant community of faith, and a leading institution in this city that so needs our leadership. I am deeply committed to and energized by our ministry of place; by our service to the hungry and the homeless; by our work and advocacy for peace and justice; by our arts and cultural programs, our educational offerings and our community partnerships; and let us not forget our upcoming centennial celebration of being a cathedral on the corner of Euclid and East 22nd Street.

I also have a fabulous group of colleagues in leadership. I have never worked with such wonderful staff colleagues in all my life. I am privileged to serve with a dedicated group of Vestry and Cathedral Council leaders, and all the rest of you who carry out mission and ministry in this place. And I believe, without a doubt, that I serve one of the best congregations in all of the Episcopal Church. I wake up almost every morning eager to come to work, and I really can't wait for Sunday morning worship.

I also believe in Cleveland. I believe in Cleveland with all of its challenges and potential, and I want to be a part of the revitalization and renaissance of this great city. I want to see the completion of the Euclid Avenue Corridor. I want to ride my bike from University Circle to downtown in a bike lane. I want to hop on the bus for lunch and get off at the Art Museum or Public Square. I want to see the redevelopment of the Flats, the lakefront and our urban neighborhoods. And we're still looking for our perfect house on Lake Erie in the City of Cleveland.

I also want to be involved in the work for regional vitality and equity. I want to help define what Northeast Ohio can become with the City of Cleveland at its heart and center. I want to help us move toward metropolitan and regional government, because as a city planner I truly believe that if our cities, suburbs and counties were effectively aligned we would have great cities in a strong region.

And above all, I want to be part of the brain gain, not the brain drain of this city and region. I have to tell you that I really think the Plain Dealer should not be writing headlines like, "Lesbian Dean Ends Her Quest to Become a Bishop." The Plain Dealer ought to use Trinity Cathedral and its Dean in the Believe in Cleveland campaign.

I've also come home to Ohio, a state where my family has lived for I think about ten generations. My mother grew up in a little hamlet near Ironton, Ohio down in the heart of Lawrence County and so did many generations before her. My father and his father grew up in Zanesville. I grew up in Columbus. I started college in Athens and graduated in Toledo. I went to graduate school in Cincinnati and now I'm here as a religious and civic leader in Cleveland. If I would just add Youngstown, Akron and Dayton to the list, I could have lived in all the major cities of this state. I am a Buckeye, and we still have the bowl of buckeyes in our foyer that the children of this congregation gave me when I came home to Ohio.

Our state is in the midst of a struggle for its soul. I don't say that lightly, I really do believe it. This is not the state that we all grew up in - those of us who grew up in Ohio. And I feel deeply called to be engaged in the struggle in this state. I am committed to my work with We Believe Ohio, a growing group of interfaith religious leaders. We are Jewish, Christian, Muslim, and Sikh. We are coming together from all sorts and traditions of faith, and we are trying to say that we might not agree with each other on everything, but we agree that the State of Ohio needs to be a place that ensures compassion, justice and inclusion for all people. It's hard to focus on the complex issues facing our state like poverty, public education, health care, job creation, taxation, and environmental protection. Those are the complicated issues, the tough issues, and if this state's political, civic business and religious leadership doesn't address them, then we're not going to be the Great Buckeye State much longer. I want to work on these issues and help this cathedral congregation lead on these issues. I want to help make Ohio a state where diversity and pluralism are respected, where religion is a freedom rather than a state-sanctioned imposition, and where all of God's children feel safe and wanted. I feel called here and now and this moment to be in the State of Ohio.

And finally I want to say to our families, especially our parents, Paul, Jean and Winne, that Emily and I love our life here. We love having our families close by and it's a joy to be with our parents during their "golden" years. We also love our friends. We feel very rooted here in Cleveland, Ohio.

So, on one hand, I wanted to say "yes" and stand for election as the Tenth Bishop of Newark, to take my place in what really is probably a battle for the soul of our church and to go back to the place that made me a priest and taught me how to lead. On the other hand, I wanted so much to stay here with my family and friends and continue my work as Dean of Trinity Cathedral in Cleveland, Ohio. I felt so conflicted that I started asking God for a sign to help me make one of the most important and difficult decisions of my life. The sign didn't come immediately. I said to God: You've been so clear with me all of my life, where are you now when I need you. About a week ago I didn't get one sign; I got lots of signs - one right after the other. I'm not going to tell you about them now; I'm not ready to talk about them, and I don't know if I ever will be. But trust me, I received clear signs from God that said: "Tracey, stay in the city where you are and serve the church to which I have called you." I don't know why I got so many signs. I suppose God understands how desperate and stubborn I can be and how much I needed certainty and clarity. The signs were very clear--God wanted me to say "no" to Episcopal leadership in the Diocese of Newark and to say "yes" to Trinity Cathedral in Cleveland, Ohio.

After many sleepless nights, numerous conversations and lots of prayer, I withdrew my candidacy before a slate of nominees was selected and announced, because once the slate for bishop is announced, there could have been no turning back.

In her new book Leaving Church, Barbara Brown Taylor records the wisdom of her first rector who said, "Being ordained is not about serving God perfectly but about serving God visibly, allowing other people to learn whatever they can from watching you rise and fall." (37)

So what have I learned in this process that might be edifying to you? What might you learn from my experience? I've learned that sometimes we are called to say "no" in order to be faithful and say "yes." I have said "no": to the possibility of serving God and God's church by becoming a bishop in the Diocese of Newark so that I could say "yes" to staying right here, serving God and God's church as the Dean of Trinity Cathedral in Cleveland, Ohio.

Our beloved Episcopal church is in the midst of a struggle for its soul - I think it's no coincidence that our 75th General Convention is meeting in our state capital. As we gather for worship here this morning, our bishops are gathered in Trinity Church, Columbus to elect a presiding bishop. Nobody knows what's going to happen. And our lay and clerical deputies from every diocese in the church are gathered in the convention center of Columbus, Ohio wrestling over the full inclusion of gay and lesbian people - over the consecration of gay and lesbian bishops and the blessing of our lives and our relationships. Our church is struggling with how to remain faithful to the consecration of Gene Robinson and how to remain in relationship with those who don't agree with that action.

My hope and prayer for the 75th General Convention of the Episcopal Church is that we won't go backward and that if we can't find a way to stay in unity we will find a way to live into a theology of proximity, agreeing to disagree, but remaining Episcopalians and Anglicans around a common table. For deep in my heart I believe that the things that separate us from one another really can be and are overcome in the oneness of God. I don't know what's going to happen in the next couple of days. I don't think anyone does.

But I do believe that God has not and will not forsake us. God has not and will not abandon this beloved church. Thus, like St. Paul who reminds us in his second letter to the Church in Corinth, right now we are all called to "walk by faith, not by sight," knowing, trusting and believing that God is good - all the time.

Personally, I look forward to the time when gay and lesbian clergy will be able to discern God's will for our lives without having it examined under a microscope or on the front page of a newspaper. I look forward to a time when nobody is scapegoat for the sake of expediency, politics and power. But that time is still probably a ways off. So this afternoon I'm going to sit in my backyard and watch the birds in the trees. And I'm going to remember that the realm and hope of God is really like a mustard seed. It's the smallest seed of all, and yet when it's thrown on the earth and grows up, it becomes big and strong - like a Buckeye tree - and it puts forth large branches so the birds of the air - robins, cardinals, mourning doves, woodpeckers, house wrens, cat birds, grackles, finches, blue jays and even pigeons - all of them will find a place to make a nest.

My hope and prayer for us today is that our ministry together at Trinity Cathedral - in the center of downtown Cleveland, in the heart of Northeast Ohio, in the middle of this great nation - that our ministry now and in the years to come will produce many little seeds that will grow into great big trees.

So to all of you who have wrestled and waded through this journey of discernment with me, I thank you. And to the rest of you, let me say, I am glad to be home!

Amen.