Queering a Church in the Heartland is a moving story about how one Iowan church found its way from exclusion to inclusion and ultimately grew deeper in its faith. Documenting their transformation and struggles along the way, Adey Wassink and Tom Wassink share their insights on including the LGBTQ+ community in their congregation and the impact it has had on their church’s health. Sanctuary was published on Oct. 8. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
The Daily Iowan: Some may believe Iowa is nothing more than cornfields and conservatism, but Iowa City is distinctive from that view. What can you tell me about Iowa City, and what makes it so special?
Tom: Well, we came here from the Chicago area for me to do training [in psychiatric research] and didn’t expect to stay more than two years. At that time, we were a part of a conservative religious denomination, and when we got here, we were still connected to that, but much less tightly. We were surrounded by this city that embraced liberal progressive values amid conservatism. The generosity of people and the openness to new ideas and possibilities surprised us. Being in Iowa City opened us up to a new way of doing church and of practicing religion. Instead of scrutinizing, it presented a notion of God that was generous, open, welcoming, and really for the people. That was due to the politics and the social atmosphere we found in Iowa City.
Adey: Having a Black, gay mayor as the face of Iowa City feels like a statement of who you are and that everyone is welcome here. It encourages or invites that kind of openness.
Tom: Religion thinks it’s supposed to know the answers and not be shaped by culture. The distinction is religion influences culture and not the other way around.
What advice do you give to other congregations wanting to implement this kind of change for themselves?
Adey: When we first started, conversations were the most important thing. Whatever stage we were at, we would invite our staff and people in the church to initiate conversations and expand our horizons. These were uncomfortable meetings where we talked about things people would rather not. It was through these conversations that we were able to go from a place of comfortable exclusion to celebrating inclusivity.
Tom: If you’re a church practicing exclusion and want to become inclusive, it’s not just saying you are and letting some more people come. It’s a through-and-through deconstruction and reconstruction of what it was about your faith that made it possible to exclude in the first place. In the new practice of Christianity, we feel like exclusion isn’t even possible. It’s not conceivable. It’s not just being who you are and then letting some people come, which is what we thought it would be in the beginning. Everything changes.
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As a straight couple, what have you learned about being allies to the LGBTQ+ community?
Tom: A big part is just entering into their stories. The LGBTQ+ community desires participation in religion for a place where they can encounter God. I grew up in a culture where queerness was pushed out, so it wasn’t even present. A big part of it for me was coming into familiarity with the people my culture had turned away who turned out to be just like me. All their desires, hopes, aspirations, and what they wanted from faith, were just like mine. Another part was just genuinely letting a little bit of queerness into our lives that wasn’t there before. There aren’t these absolute dichotomies of identity and of the experience of gender, so letting that be the case for us has been lovely.
Adey: Many gay people who have attended church have been severely harmed. I don’t think we could have predicted the pain that we would encounter, so hearing that and letting it be real was important. We’ve been entering that space of pain and brokenness by offering pastoral care, or whatever it is, but also realizing that the harm Tom and I have suffered pales in comparison. As a scientist, sometimes Tom would say, “My brain isn’t welcome in religion,” or as a female, my sex isn’t welcome as a pastor, but nothing compares to the harm that has been done to gay people in religious institutions.
If you could go back to the very beginning of this journey, what would you tell yourself?
Adey: Well, I think I would tell myself to stick with it, because whatever the cost of this, the liberation, the way, the truth, the light, that we find on the other side will be more expansive, more valuable, and more bright than the struggles. It feels like our hearts have exploded. And then all we knew was, “Oh my gosh, we might blow up our church. We’re going to lose these people. We’re going to lose these friends. We’re going to lose these givers.” I would tell myself, “You’re right.” You might lose some of those things, but what you get on the other side is true life.
Tom: When you’re on the front end of transformation, all you face is the hardness of change, the things you lose, and the work you’ll have to do. We can’t know what it will be like to be on the other side until we’re there, and it’s amazing. I mean, our experience of being pastors is infinite. We have changed into people who we like better than who we were 15 years ago. And then there are the people who are coming now who couldn’t have come before. It’s inconceivable to us now that they wouldn’t be a part of our church family, a part of our lives. So, it’s just amazing. It’s liberating. It’s joyful. To us, our practice of Christianity feels closer to what we think it’s supposed to be.