Building Community

Finding your tribe and sanctuary

This is a longer post than I was planning, but I do have a point. I hope you’ll bear with me.

We belong to a progressive Presbyterian Church in Evansville, Indiana, about 10 miles from our home in Kentucky. We were members of the church from 2005-09 when we lived in Evansville, so it has been our church home for a while. When we decided to move back to the area in 2022, little did we realize how important it would be for us to have a place that provided the sanctuary we needed.

When we were members of First Pres before, we got to know our pastor, Kevin Fleming, and his wife Wendy McCormick quite well. Kevin was our age and very liberal. Back in 2006 he wanted me to serve on the Session (the governing board of the congregation) even though our Presbytery did not support openly gay people serving in leadership roles at the time. Kevin wanted to poke the bear and see if there would be any problem. I think he was a little disappointed when there wasn’t any negative pushback.

In early February 2022, we made an offer on our house without seeing the inside in person. After a series of unfortunate events, we needed to find a house quickly since our house in California was already on the market. A friend of my brother-in-law mentioned that this house was probably still for sale, although it had been off the market for a couple of years. When the offer was accepted, the owners made a contingency that at least one of us needed to see the house within four days. This was on a Saturday almost exactly three years ago!

So we loaded up one of our cars with stuff (art, clothing, and a few boxes) and I took off at 6:00 a.m. the next day, a Sunday morning. We’ve driven the route many times, and I checked weather reports to ensure I wouldn’t encounter snow driving through Wyoming and Nebraska. With one overnight a little more than halfway, I was back on the road Monday for the drive to Henderson. I stopped for gas in the middle of Missouri and checked my phone for messages. There was a Facebook message from one of my former college roommates to tell me that Kevin had died suddenly and unexpectedly. My heart sank. He had told many church members how excited he was that The Steves were coming back to First Pres. I never got to see him in person for that prodigal welcome home.

Kevin’s death was a huge blow to the congregation. He was loved by everyone in the congregation. I feel like I could write a book for all the great things Kevin did for the church and for the greater Evansville community. He was Santa during the Christmas season. He wrote columns for the newspaper. He created an interfaith fellowship with the local Islamic Center and the Jewish Synagogue called “One God, One Community” that encouraged dialogue among members of different faith traditions. Kevin died while the church was planning a celebration for his 25 years of ministry at that church that June.

I attended his funeral at the church the following Saturday. It was a packed house. I met folks who joined the church after we moved away in 2009 who told me that Kevin talked about us all the time. We weren’t the only gay couple who were members back then, but I guess we made an impression. The service was powerful and moving.

Just ten months after Kevin’s death and only about six months after we officially rejoined the church, another beloved member of the congregation died, also unexpectedly and suddenly. Mike was the guy who told the congregation on that February Sunday that Kevin had died, and now he was gone as well. A church that was weaker than First Pres may have crumbled at that point. I’m grateful we’ve survived.

I was elected to fill the two years remaining on Mike’s term on Session. While I was serving on the board, I was selected to be the chair of the Pastor Nominating Committee (PNC) that would find our next permanent pastor. A retired couple had served as bridge co-pastors for about nine months after Kevin’s death, and then a transitional pastor filled the pulpit for the next 21 months. During those many months, the church was just slogging along. As much as the temporary pastors tried to revive and renew us, it was hard to regain our former vigor.

The PNC experience was fantastic. To say our congregation is progressive is one thing, but of the seven members on the committee, four of us identified as LGBTQIA+. That is significant! Initially, I had expected that the committee would need at least a year to find the right person to lead our church into the future. Amazingly, the perfect individual - the last dossier that we received - appeared to us after only six months.

To make a long story short-ish, we unanimously selected Rev. Mary Beth McCandless to be our next pastor, and the congregation overwhelmingly agreed with us when she preached at our church as the nominee in August. She started on October 1, and her installation service on October 19 was a joyful celebration of the start of a new chapter in our church’s life and ministry.

I have to be careful about heaping too much praise on our new pastor. She is a subscriber of this newsletter. But the response in the four-plus months that she has been with us is overwhelmingly positive, with good reason. She’s a fantastic leader and preacher, and she is the progressive voice that we needed both in our sanctuary and in the community.

So get to the point already, Steve! (OK, OK!) The day after the election in November and the devastating result both in the presidential election and both houses of congress, I woke up with only one thought. I needed to go to church. Even if I just sat alone in the sanctuary and prayed for understanding, I knew that the church was what I needed at that moment. Thankfully, there was an email from MB to the Session asking for permission to hold two sessions that day for people to gather to talk about their feelings after the election and to provide space for comfort and consoling. Perfect! The Session quickly responded to the email with their approval.

I drove over to Evansville for the noontime session on November 6. There were probably a dozen people who came during the 90 minutes or so that we talked. I stayed the entire time, but others came and went. I heard that the evening session had more people attending. The conversation was really valuable for everyone, a space to grieve and process the outcome of an election that we were all so sure would have a different result. I developed a deeper connection with the people around that table, including Mike’s wife, the guy whom I had replaced on the Session in 2023. She said something really profound at that gathering: that in the almost two years since he had died, this was the first time that she was grateful he was gone and didn’t have to experience this election result. Wow.

My point of all this backstory is that our church has become a much-needed safe space for me during these crazy times. It’s the place where I feel welcomed and loved by a community of believers and like-minded folks where I can give and receive hugs that fill my soul with joy. I am especially grateful for the church and our fantastic pastor (who is now also a beloved friend) during the next few years. I need this sanctuary, especially now.

So where is your sanctuary? Do you find that communing with nature is your vibe? Or perhaps you like to go to dance parties and get lost in the music and the movement. You might get all that you need from your family, friends, and loved ones. However you find safety and security, make sure you take advantage of it and use it as much as you can. We need our tribe around us during the next two years at least. (I’m praying that the voters turn over the Senate and House in 2026.)

Stay safe, friends!

Postscript: Wednesday, February 12, marks three years since the passing of the Rev. Kevin Scott Fleming. He will live forever in our hearts, and he’s probably stirring up some crazy shit in Heaven now. I send my love to Wendy, Abigail, Joanna, and Lydia as they remember that happy times.

Weather Note

The rain over the past week all along the Ohio River Valley has caused the water level to rise precariously. Henderson is at a higher elevation than normal, but on the Indiana side, it looks like the river is pretty close to flood stage. More precipitation is expected tomorrow and Wednesday. Yikes.

A river barge heads for the train bridge in Henderson, Kentucky, at 4:20 p.m. on Monday, February 10, 2025.

I tried to zoom in to see the shoreline on the other side, but it’s hard to tell with all the trees.

Indiana farmland south of Evansville, Indiana, on the Ohio River.

Comments are open to everyone. Tell me how you’re feeling.