I am Mennonite. My family history and culture, my deepest ethical values, my orientation to scripture and my last name are all inextricably tied to the Mennonite story. 

I am Disciples of Christ. I have been since I was ordained a Disciples pastor in 2015 and before then, too. For the past 23 years, whenever I needed ­welcome, somehow in front of me there appeared the Disciples’ open table. 

I was in seminary a little too soon to find a pastoral place in Mennonite Church USA. I came out in college and learned that Anabaptist Mennonite Biblical Seminary wouldn’t be a welcoming environment for me in the mid-’00s.

Without regret, I landed at Vanderbilt Divinity School. I internalized the school’s commitments to (as phrased at the time) opposing racism, sexism and heterosexism. Exclusion based on sexuality and gender was about power and prejudice, not personal morality or biblical truth.

Confident in myself and these values, I went looking for an internship in a Mennonite church that would take me as I was. I wrote to a few con­gregations and pastors who had been in trouble for their public welcome, some of the early members of the Supportive Communities Network and Inclusive Mennonite Pastors. Thus began a long friendship with Seattle Mennonite Church. In 2008 I spent a beautiful summer as a ministry intern there, and I left knowing I would be a pastor.

A year later I met Carol Wise, the longtime executive director of Brethren Mennonite Council for LGBT Interests. Carol was a faithful presence during the next years of struggle as I tried to pursue my calling to serve and was rejected outright, or asked to keep my sexuality quiet, or encouraged to wait a little longer. 

In 2011 Carol invited me to serve on the BMC board, and I joined the long line of scrappy and soulful BMCers, with our holy mix of hopefulness and irreverence, joy and cynicism. I became one of many who found in BMC an outlet for my gifts and a trusted connection with church and nonchurch Mennonites (and Brethren) who would remind me at every rejection, at every barrier: This isn’t about you. 

Meanwhile, I found another place of welcome. I began the credentialing process with the Disciples of Christ. The Mennonite church had formed me and, through rejection, also strengthened me for a sustaining and grounded pastoral life. The Disciples in Missouri were glad to receive me. 

I remained on the BMC board for six years and was part of celebrating the 40th anniversary. It was a powerful time: The church was turning, and I was learning what it meant to be a bridge between past and future. I was also learning how to embody two denominational identities. 

In 2016 I was called to serve the Disciples church where I was a member. A year later, when I rotated off the BMC board, Carol and company blessed me with a chalice and paten, a gift from Mennonites and Brethren that is also the central symbol of the Disciples of Christ. 

Today my Voices Together hymnal sits next to my Chalice Hymnal on the bookshelves in my study. I consult them both every week as I plan worship. On a nearby shelf, that chalice and paten sit right next to the peace lamp my Mennonite family gave me when I was ordained. 

The sense of home I feel in both worlds is a gift from BMC that will continue well into the future. Denominational multiplicity, dual (and more) identities, life beyond binaries, expansive commitments, a grounded and resilient faith — these are the gifts of my queer pastoral life.

Sarah Klaassen is pastor at Rock Bridge Christian Church, Columbia, Mo.