Pastoral minister talks about sexuality, faith and the failed antidiscrimination ordinance

I recently sat down with Sara Gavit at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church at Tudor Road and Lake Otis Parkway. Gavit is a friend of a friend who is a member of St. Mary’s. I had heard her preach during my friend’s daughter’s baptism, and thought of her last summer when it seemed everyone in Anchorage was debating the gay rights ordinance. You see, Sara Gavit is the pastoral care minister at St. Mary’s and she’s also an out lesbian.
Since much of the debate was framed as one of devout Christians versus pagan or nonreligious gay people and their supporters, I thought now might be the time to visit with Gavit to talk with her about her faith, her wish to be an ordained Episcopal priest and how her sexuality fits in. Why now? Well, I’m hopeful that Anchorage is starting to heal from the polarizing debate over the proposed ordinance and Mayor Dan Sullivan’s veto. Besides, I’d been curious about how Gavit “heard the calling,” so to speak, to become a minister.
Gavit grew up in Nebraska as a Southern Baptist. Her neighbors, however, were Roman Catholic, and they invited Gavit to attend Mass with them. “I fell in love with the liturgy,” she said. Later, as a teen and young woman, she turned away from organized religion.
Then, on a hiking trip near Sedona, Ariz., she met a woman who told her she was studying to be a minister. “She said, ‘I’m going to change the church from the inside out.’” Gavit at once realized this is what she was supposed to do as well. She started taking adult education classes to learn about Scripture and theology. And she started attending St. Mary’s after seeing an announcement that it was offering a blues Mass— mixing blues music with the liturgy. “This community embraced me as an out, open lesbian.”
She also liked that St. Mary’s has a long history of social justice activism. It has run a food pantry since 1967 and has taken stances in favor of the poor and powerless.
To become an ordained priest, Gavit had to go to divinity school. So when her youngest daughter graduated from high school, she set out for St. John’s, a Catholic seminary in Minnesota whose Benedictine tradition teaches seminarians to treat all people as they would Jesus Christ. Gavit is still a couple of classes shy of her master’s of divinity, but she’s hoping to be ordained soon.
As it is, she has worked at St. Mary’s since 2005. As the pastoral care minister, she helps care for parishioners spiritual needs in good times and bad. “I see myself journeying with people who have experienced a big loss or trauma.”
She moved fine-boned fingers over an Aran sweater and up to her salt-and-pepper waves. On one finger is a wedding ring—Gavit married her partner Patricia last April in Vancouver, where same-sex marriage is legal. At 48 years old, Gavit has years of accumulated wisdom she can share with others in the LGBT community. She knows what it’s like to be a mom who has to explain to her children that she’s lesbian. She knows what it’s like to wonder how spirituality fits with sexuality.
During the contentious battle over the anti-discrimination ordinance last summer, Gavit had several members of the church who needed special attention. They are gay, lesbian or transgendered, and they felt whipsawed by the tone of the debate.
“I had to create a sanctuary within a sanctuary,” Gavit said. “The gay community is very wary of the Christian community as a whole.” She had to remind them that that is not the whole story, she said. “That’s not the whole body of Christ.”
Gavit was relieved that no one from the LGBT community— encompassing lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgendered people—tried to commit suicide last summer. Several studies indicate that lesbian, gay and bisexual youth—transgendered youth haven’t been studied—are up to three times more likely to have thoughts of suicide than the average population. Gavit said it’s hard for people to hear that Christians think they are sinful or threatening. Perhaps it's hardest for people who are both LGBT and Christian themselves.
St. Mary’s is where the Metropolitan Community Church of Anchorage meets. The Metropolitan Community Church openly ministers to gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered people. The mainline Episcopal Church has also been grappling with the question of the LGBT community for 40 years. It’s feeling the effects of member churches that oppose the ordination of women or of gays and lesbians splitting off. St. Mary’s has long been a progressive voice, and its rector, the Rev. Michael Burke, and Gavit found themselves articulating the progressive position last summer in the media as Anchorage Baptist Temple and the Rev. Jerry Prevo represented the more conservative position.
Even though the veto of the ordinance was a defeat for people in the LGBT community and their supporters, Gavit said a victory of sorts has been achieved. She has heard from people in the community say something to the effect of, “I didn’t know what it was all about. I wasn’t sure we needed an anti-discrimination ordinance. After I’ve heard the ugly rhetoric, I get it. I understand.”
Gavit is hoping that she will be ordained in the new year. For now, she’s happy that she can show the world that it’s possible to blend sexuality and spirituality in a person’s life. “The heart of it is love,” she said. “Any time, any way I can show that’s what Christianity is, that is my calling.”