Lesbian minister defrocked for violating church rules

She’s just Beth Stroud now.

The Rev. Irene Elizabeth “Beth” Stroud was ordered to surrender her ministry license this afternoon, hours after a Methodist church jury convicted her of “engaging in practices declared by the United Methodist Church to be incompatible with Christian teachings” because she is a practicing lesbian.

By a 7-6 vote, the jury of clergy peers defrocked Stroud, 34, who had been associate minister at First United Methodist Church of Germantown.

Gasps followed the verdict, and dozens of her supporters broke out in a protest song in the makeshift courtroom at a Methodist retreat center near Pottstown.

The church’s lead prosecutor, the Rev. Tom Hall, told the jurors that “the only penalty possible” was to defrock Stroud because the denomination’s highest court had recently declared “self-avowed, practicing homosexuals” to be “unappointable.” Stroud would still be free to serve in lay ministry, Hall said.

The defense counsel, the Rev. J. Dennis Williams, urged the jurors to be “creative” and craft a lesser penalty that would allow her to keep her ordained status. Stroud, he said, is “a person called by God to build bridges of care across canyons of despair” on the charged topic of homosexuality.

The case is the latest flashpoint in the long-running conflict over gay rights in mainline Protestant churches. An estimated two-thirds of the world’s 8.5 miillion United Methodists support their denomination’s ban on gay clergy, though there is an active, vocal dissident camp.

Stroud’s conviction seemed foregone after the judge ruled before the trial opened yesterday that the defense team could not pursue a key argument that the United Methodist ban on non-celibate gay clergy violates the spirit of its own constitution.

Church officials have taken steps recently to reinforce the Book of Discipline’s ban on the ordination and appointment of “self-avowed, practicing homosexuals.”

In a news conference after the verdict, Stroud said she “went into the trial not expecting to win but knowing it would be a painful moment in the life of the United Methodist Church. … I felt it was important to experience this pain together and acknowledge this pain.”

The proceedings had begun this morning with the defense calling two clergymen to the stand who testified that Stroud was a star pastor and role model in her ministry.

Washington Bishop John Schol had been Stroud’s pastor at West Chester United Methodist Church in the late 1990s. He recalled how she had memorized congregants’ faces and names out of the church directory so that when she presided at communion, “she could offer God’s grace to people by name.” He said Stroud had told him she was a lesbian, though at the time she was not in a committed relationship.

The Rev. Fred Day, Stroud’s current pastor, called her “a transformational leader” who had drawn people to the Germantown church.

Under questioning from prosecutor Hall, Day said he strongly disagreed with the gay-clergy ban. The Book of Discipline also says gays have “sacred worth” and extols inclusiveness, he said.

“How can we be faithful to that aspect of the discipline,” Day said, “and move to banish or bar gay or lesbian persons from the ministry?”

Williams, the defense counsel, repeated that sentiment in his closing statement. “The heart of the issue,” he said, “is whether all United Methodists, regardless of status, are to be afforded equal rights and equal opportunities.”

In the prosecution’s summation, Hall said Stroud’s calling and competence are not in dispute, but “her decision to live outside the boundaries is what is in dispute.” The jurors, as fellow clergy, have a duty, he said, “to confront even those we love when they are doing things that are not compatible with Christian teachings.”

The trial judge, retired Bishop Joseph H. Yeakel of Maryland, instructed the jurors that they could not “ignore or negate” the rule against non-celibate gay clergy, “even when it is based on conscientious disagreement.”

Stroud brought on the trial when she gave a sermon in early 2003 in which she told congregants at her gay-friendly church that she was living in a “covenant relationship” with another woman.

The area bishop at the time, Bishop Peter Weaver, attempted to resolve the situation, but Stroud declined the options of yielding her credentials, transferring to another denomination, or promising celibacy. That forced a trial as a last resort under church law. Stroud asked that the trial be open to the public, in a break with normal procedure.

Like many denominations, the United Methodists have many gay clergy, who live under a “don’t ask, don’t tell” climate that many church liberals would like to see end.

Stroud’s case is only the third against a non-celibate gay United Methodist minister in 17 years. One was convicted and defrocked, while the second was acquitted in a controversial ruling in March. Another minister was defrocked in 1999 for performing a holy union ceremony for two men.

In the March acquittal, a Methodist jury in Washington state found that the Book of Discipline referred to the “sacred worth” of gays and did not specifically list homosexuality as a “chargeable offense” for ministers. After an uproar ensued, delegates to the church convention reaffirmed the gay-clergy ban and the judicial council, the church’s highest court, declared homosexuality a chargeable offense.

Stroud trial’s was the first test of the tightened rules.

The defense suffered a setback yesterday when Yeakel ruled that its constitutional challenges were outside the bounds of a jury trial. Those arguments, which still could be raised on appeal, include that the Methodist constitution prohibits discrimination based on sexual orientation and that a celibacy requirement in inconsistent with Methodist theology.

Stroud said yesterday that she had not decided whether to appeal the ruling.

The Germantown church has promised Stroud that she can continue her ministry work as a lay employee, but without presiding at baptisms or communion.

Throughout the trial, Stroud’s partner, Chris Paige, and family sat behind the defense table. Stroud kept a small felt banner on the table, a gift from the children at her church. It was covered with hearts and bore the words, “God is always with me.”

Though most United Methodists support the ban on non-celibate gay clergy, the sentiment was strongly pro-Stroud among the 150 spectators filling the gymnasium courtroom at Camp Innabah, a Methodist retreat center south of Pottstown. Dozens of members of her church and of activist Christian groups displayed banners and rainbow stoles of the gay-rights church movement.

One conservative spectator was Mark Tooley, who directs the Methodist project for the Institute on Religion and Democracy, an orthodox advocacy group in Washington.

“This case is not difficult,” Tooley said in an interview. “The church’s teaching on homosexuality is not new, and Beth Stroud was well aware of it before she was ordained.” The denomination has repeatedly reaffirmed its gay-clergy ban, by ever-increasing margins, he said, “so there isn’t a strong basis for the assertion that the denomination is deeply divided or in flux.”