Features
Holy Roller
Lutheran Pastor Lars Clausen Unicycles for LGBT Understanding
by Euan Bear
Waterbury
– Somehow we missed connecting in Burlington, but OITM
caught up with unicycling Lutheran pastor Lars Clausen in Waterbury on
June 16 before he set off for Montpelier and points south. Here’s
the pitch: he’s a straight man married to a woman, has two children,
is ordained in the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, and he is riding
his unicycle from Burlington to Baltimore to understand what everyday
life is like for gay men, lesbians, and transgender folks in this part
of America.
His Viking-long sandy-reddish-blond
hair and blue-blue eyes peering out from under a bike helmet don’t
immediately evoke ministerial robes behind a pulpit, and that is not,
he says, the only place for a pastor. It's clearly not the only place
for this pastor, who is on this trip, he explains, in part "because
I was kicked out of seminary in 1988." That's shorthand for a much
longer story (see the "About Lars" section of his website, www.straightintogayamerica.com),
but it was an experience that gave him a taste of how gay and lesbian
Lutherans might feel when confronted with rules that exclude them from
roles in the ministry.
The issue was that he and his cohabiting
then-fiancé were not married. They were required to move their
marriage up by several months to satisfy the seminary authorities.
"I was angry for four years,"
Lars said. "But then I came to see that as the biggest gift. I no
longer assume that institutions will eventually do the right thing. More
and more, I see institutions allow people on the edge of society to fall
off. Jesus was all about going after the one sheep out on the edge."
Lars – in his bike gear
it's difficult to think of him as Pastor Clausen - and his wife Anne have
made lots of lgbt friends in the 17 years since seminary, including on
Lars' 50-state unicycle trip a few years ago, about which he wrote a book,
OneWheel, Many Spokes. He wants to use his relatively privileged
position as a white, heterosexual, professionally educated, married father
and minister to move the conversation about justice and equality forward.
He is not – NOT – using the trip to preach to anyone, gay
or straight.
"It's only the third day of the
trip, and already we've received a ton of positive energy," Lars
said. "I understand that some members of the glbt community might
say, 'What are you doing? Who do you think you are?' There have been so
many [people] who are allies in word and not in deed." Lars wants
to make sure that his actions as an ally are deeds that add a small measure
of energy toward a "tipping point" where the churches and society
"finally realize, we must include and treat justly glbt people. This
I can do."
Already, Lars realizes, "glbt
people are networked." He's staying at the homes of people who invite
him - whether because they heard about his previous trip and book, have
been to his website, or because the last people he stayed with handed
him on to friends down the road.
He keeps a running account of
each day's adventures on his website. Since I saw him, he has encountered
just a few of the Vermonters who subscribe to the “Take Back Vermont”
opposition to civil unions. The strength of their feeling and the lack
of logic Lars notes in their responses are stunning.
Right now, the trip is self-funded,
though he spoke with representatives of Ben & Jerry's in search of
support. Sales of his book will help, as will donations through his website.
Why Vermont? I asked. Why the
East Coast? "It's historically appropriate to begin here, the first
state to recognize civil unions." Depending on the support he gets,
including monetary support ("I'm having a ball, but it comes at a
price," of not seeing his family for the five weeks of the trip),
and seeing that the trip was "of some use" while being able
to "feed the family," he might like to undertake a ride in the
Midwest, or Canada. To counter red-state/blue-state mindsets, he tells
the story of a pastor from Tennessee who was visiting the small village
of Holden, Washington, where the Clausens have been living. The Tennessee
man said his whole synod voted to be identified as "Reconciled in
Christ," – in concept akin to other denominations' language
of "Open and Affirming," "More Light" – indicating
full acceptance of lgbt members at all levels.
By the time you read this, Lars Clausen
will have seen Pride in Manhattan and will be close to finishing when
he rides to Lynchburg, Virginia on July 10 to worship at Jerry Falwell's
church, before turning north again to Baltimore and his flight home. Everything
else between here and there is a gift of the moment and of the people
he meets. His real goal is the conversations with us, the gay men and
lesbians and transgender folk whose stories he wants to hear and retell,
bringing real lives to people caught in fear who might listen to a straight
white Lutheran pastor when he says, "‘I have met them and here
are their stories. They are real souls, real lives, and not so different
from you and me. They deserve nothing less than justice."
Making
the Movie
Jenny Ting unloads a medium-sized
duffle holding her camera gear from the car and walks into Full of Beans,
the coffee shop in downtown Waterbury where Lars and I agreed to meet.
She is half of the documentary film crew following Lars Clausen's perhaps
quixotic unicycle journey into "gay America."
Ting saw a brief article about
Clausen in the national glossy gay magazine, The Advocate last
April, and within a matter of a few weeks, she was on a plane to Burlington.
This wasn't the next film she had planned to make - that film would have
been on gay marriage, with interviews of five gay and five straight couples,
"people who represent what marriage means."
Then she saw the article about Lars.
"Here's this straight white guy, a Lutheran pastor, talking about
justice for glbt people. I wanted to be a part of it," Ting explains
as she allows an interruption to her fast and furious emailing.
Ting – a civil engineer
for a private transportation consultant and a lesbian - and Tan Vo, her
co-documentarian, are, like Lars, self-funding this venture. Their last
film, Not Straightforward, documented ten days and ten different
women. It's been shown in New Zealand, Switzerland, and the Philippines,
as well as in the U.S., Ting said.
This one might be harder, with
many more stories, hundreds of hours of film, but, Ting says, "I
know how I will frame Lars and his unicycle, 'Straight into GLBT America,'
a title that's inclusive of all [our] people."