Tension is high in many local congregations of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America following last week's vote by the governing body of the 4.6 million-member denomination to permit local option on the ordination of gay clergy in committed, monogamous relationships.
The 85,000-member Synod of Southwestern Pennsylvania is theologically conservative, and had asked the Churchwide Assembly to keep a requirement for gay clergy to remain celibate.
"At this point, what I've heard is a lot of deep sadness, and it comes from different places," said Bishop Kurt Kusserow of the Southwestern Pennsylvania synod. "It comes from people who feel that the church they know and love has become different from what they know and love. But we are also hearing deep sadness from those who for decades have been waiting for change, because it is so evident that many others in the church that they know and love are feeling sad."
At the meeting in Minneapolis, Bishop Kusserow pressed successfully for language that spelled out the obligation to respect those who believe that the Bible forbids sexual relations outside of heterosexual marriage. No congregation can be forced to accept a partnered gay pastor.
It's unclear how local option will work in practice, because the council that will write the policies to implement the decision won't meet until November, Bishop Kusserow said. In the meantime, he said, he will meet with local Lutherans, urging patience and unity.
"I believe very strongly that our church has space within it for those who agree with this change and those who don't," said the bishop, who had opposed the decision.
But there are local congregations where it was seen as an answer to prayer. At St. Andrew Lutheran Church in Shadyside, the Rev. Janet Grill offers blessing ceremonies for gay couples.
"As a pastor who serves gay people, I am delighted and feel validated. I know so many gay Lutherans who are examples of the faith and who are now fully included in the church," she said.
But she kept celebrations low-key.
"I am concerned for those in the synod who now feel in the position of 'the other,' and don't feel included. It's our job to continue to reach out in love to those who feel alienated," she said.
Among them is the Rev. David Gleason, pastor of First Lutheran Church, Downtown.
"I'm sort of in a state of disbelief," he said. "It was almost mind-numbing to see your church ripped apart right in front of you. I think there is more depression than there is anger on the part of people who opposed this change."
He has parishioners on both sides. Some were thrilled, while others are asking how the congregation can stay in the denomination. He is counseling patience and holding meetings to help people work through their reactions. He has always told them that First Lutheran doesn't have to be affected by what the national church does, he said.
Still, he expects a variety of groups to try to lead his people out of the denomination. He was among several pastors in the synod to receive a lunch invitation from a local pastor in the 2.3 million-member Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, which is far more conservative than the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.
Lutheran CORE, a national movement of theological conservatives within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, isn't calling for a split. The Rev. Paull Spring, chairman of CORE, a State College, Centre County resident and retired bishop of Erie, warned against comparisons to the split in the Episcopal Church.
"We are not forming a new church. Our structure and polity are quite different from the Episcopal Church. We are asking people to stay as members of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America," he said.
Nevertheless, he said, his group will be reorganizing as an alternative support system for congregations that can no longer trust denominational leadership, he said.
