I knew that revealing it would be traumatic. Tey were all
shocked. At first they thought I was joking, but then they realized, by looking at my face, that I wasn’t. Ten the horror struck for them. For the first days and months, my wife and I felt closer than we had ever been before. We cried on each other’s shoulders. But aſter a couple of months, reality hit. Tat was the beginning of our separation, as it were.
DID YOU STILL WANT TO BE A PASTOR?
Absolutely. Something within me feels called to be of spiritual help, comfort, or guidance to others, as God allows me to. Tat has never changed. When I lost my position with the denomination, it wasn’t just a job loss, but loss of a calling.
My father didn’t urge me to follow in his footsteps, but from my earliest memories I knew that I wanted to serve God.
I had been certified with Cambridge University for English
as a Second Language training, and I did that for a while in Vancouver. Ten, in 1997 at Kinship Kampmeeting, I met Taylor, who was going through similar struggles and had separated from his wife. We felt an attraction right away. We had similar backgrounds: both [of us] had been married and had children, had grown up Adventist, and were musicians. When things began to be serious, I moved to Maryland to be with him. While there, I worked for an immigration lawyer. Taylor had a transfer to California for his job, and we asked
each other, What could we do? Could I be a pastor again? It didn’t seem very likely at the time. But we’d heard of Glendale City Church, and we addressed this question to the pastor, Mitch Henson. Mitch was open-minded: he wanted to treat everyone equally, and he felt it was important to show affirmation for LGBTQ people. He took it up with the church board, which voted unanimously to give me a call to be part of their staff!
HOW DID THE CONGREGATION REACT?
At first, I think some members were uneasy—understandably, given the situation. Initially, Mitch was unsure how far he could
32 AD VENTIS T T OD A Y
press the issue within the denomination. He wanted to be affirming, but the conference had warned him (and me): don’t push the LGBTQ envelope too much. Tey were caught between wanting to be supportive and what they could do safely. It was a fine balancing act for Pastor Mitch and the congregation, as well as for subsequent pastors. For the first year, I mostly prepared for the congregation’s
centennial celebration; I assembled the church’s history: gathered photographs, old newspapers and anything to do with the history of the church. We gave presentations to the church each month in 2006. As 2006 progressed, it became obvious that Mitch Henson
needed me in ways that he had not anticipated. He developed glioblastoma multiforme, a serious brain cancer. All of us prayed he’d beat it, but in 2007 he died. Suddenly, I was thrust into the position of being the sole pastor until the conference could find a new pastor.
AND ULTIMATELY PEOPLE DID REGARD YOU AS A PASTOR.
Tey absolutely did. It took time, and I think they had to learn to trust that I wasn’t going to be an embarrassment for them. At first they had considered me a sort of church administrator, but not a pastor. Over the years, there was a warming. Aſter Mitch died, they began to refer to me as Pastor Leif. I worked for over 20 years for the congregation. Aſter Pastor Mitch died, I was the pastor for a while; then
Rudy Torres, who’d been a pastor there before and had retired, came back to fill in. Smuts van Rooyen subsequently replaced him, followed by Todd Leonard. Te last (and current) pastor is Uriel Herinirina. All of them have been supportive. I’ve done baptisms, weddings, funerals, and served communion. At one point a notoriously negative and loud member saw my name on the church marquee and protested to the conference. I stepped back from serving communion temporarily, and the next time we just didn’t announce it! At one point, the conference felt pressure—I believe from
the General Conference—to not allow me to continue. Te conference was good about it; they even offered me a severance and service credit, and I chose a termination date. But the Glendale City Church congregation made a unanimous decision: if the conference wasn’t going to hire Pastor Leif, they would! Te congregation established a payroll company whose sole purpose was to salary me. Tat’s how I continued to pastor for another five years! It’s truly amazing—and heartwarming for me. Eventually, even the conference was willing to sign off on me
being a pastor.
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