Mentor Story One: Chris Heavner

September 19, 2013

Dear Chris,

How do you start a letter to someone who has so changed the course of your life? How can someone offer something more than thanks and gratitude for giving me the space to discover that I am a beloved child of God, even with all of my faults, my imperfections, my issues? It seems that mere words will have to express the emotions and experiences I have with your life and celebrating your 30 years of ordained ministry.

Chris, I thank you for living up to the meaning of your name, of being a bearer of Christ to those around you. I thank you for extending to me grace, mercy, and the open space to be myself as I was traveling along in my faith journey. I thank you that on the first of those weekly meetings all those years ago, you said, “I’m not out to convert you. I just want to share this time with you.” I am grateful that you took the time to walk with me as I had questions about Christianity. I appreciated the questions you asked me about Hinduism. The time that you, Karl, and I spent together talking about faith is precious to me; I now define that time in my life as being a catechumen.

But as we both know, God does surprising things with unexpected people. Little did I know that God was reaching out for me, and I was not at all expecting to have that experience within the walls of University Lutheran Church in Clemson hearing the words to “I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry.” You continued to support me as I was baptized, and especially when I was exploring what God’s call was on my life. I knew somehow that God was calling me to a life of service, but I was still discerning what that service would look like. I am grateful also for those conversations as I was exploring going to seminary.

I am also so, so, so grateful and thankful that you came to the west coast for my ordination on such short notice. At times, I wanted to pinch you to make sure that you were really here, that you were really at my ordination, that you were really giving me one of my charges as I was getting ready to begin my life as a minister of Word and Sacrament.

Your ministry has impacted so many. Your ministry as a campus pastor has certainly changed my life, and I still marvel at how God has the paths of people intersect in amazing and astonishing ways. I continue to be amazed and astonished on the impact you have in my life, and I am forever grateful to God for you.

Your sister in Christ,

The Reverend Tuhina Verma Rasche 
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When I met Chris, I knew little about Christianity. My initial exposure was from the greater culture: I knew to expect presents on December 25^th and I could wear a pretty dress and gorge myself on hard boiled eggs sometime in the spring months. When I moved to South Carolina, I was exposed to the Bible Belt of the American South. Some of that exposure left me with a bad taste in my mouth; if people claimed that they were going to hell because they were friends with a Hindu, I didn’t want anything to do with that god. Because of that god, I didn’t think too favorably about Christianity. I didn’t need Jesus to “save me.” If anything, I thought I needed to be saved from a god who encouraged narrow-mindedness.

I met Chris in the fall of 1998; I was a sophomore at Clemson University. Leigh Roberson, a dear friend, invited me to a student meal. Every part of my body screamed “NO” at the invitation as I had previously been offended by people professing a Christian faith... but when she mentioned that the meal was home-cooked and (best of all) free, I quickly changed my mind and asked when we were going to be headed out. There’s something to be said about hunger; I had a physical hunger that evening, but with Chris, I also discovered I had a spiritual hunger as well.

I was introduced to Chris and the students of Clemson’s Lutheran Campus Ministry. Chris and the other students were kind and invited me into their fellowship; I didn’t feel the oppression of having to be someone I was not within this Christian setting. I could be my entire Hindu, hungry self.

Chris gave me the space to ask a multitude of questions. Some of the questions were fairly simple, but could lead to a paradoxically complex response. Questions such as

“Why do you sit down and stand over and over again during worship?”

“Do all churches have Bibles in the pews?”

“Why is Good Friday called a ‘good Friday’?”

Chris also asked me questions about my faith life at home as a practicing Hindu. The time with Chris was not a pressured sales pitch on Christianity, but it was instead an amazing and earnest dialogue of beliefs and experiences. Because Chris and I had a relationship where we valued and respected one another, we felt comfortable in open and honest conversation. We were able to hold our differences and love and respect one another. Because of our relationship, I was able to learn so much about the church... and about myself.

When I was discerning if I should go to seminary, Chris was one of the first people I called. I’m assuming he was surprised at this point of my journey, but he was one of the best conversation partners in my discernment process. When I hit a rough patch in seminary, Chris was present with a cup of coffee, a listening ear, and a pastoral presence when I visited South Carolina. We ended up in Chicago at the same time in 2011. I had the opportunity to see the city through his eyes as we walked around the city where he received his seminary education. I asked him so many questions about parish ministry. I still recall what he told me that day about what he learned in parish and campus ministry: “Love your people.” I took those three words with me when I started my internship at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland and Lutheran Ministry to Nursing Homes. It sounded like a simple lesson, but in this broken world, it was one of the most beautiful and complex lessons that Chris passed on to me. Love your people, even if one of them grabs your ass while distributing communion in a nursing home dining room (yes, that happened). Love your people, even if there is a situation of intense conflict. Love your people in their sorrows and their joys. 

Internship concluded. Seminary concluded. “The Draft” (otherwise known as the assignment process) concluded. Waiting... concluded. The people of St. Paul, my internship site, further affirmed my call to ministry by calling me to be their pastor alongside their current pastor. Even though there was a schedule conflict, Chris rearranged his schedule so that he could give me one of the charges at my ordination. Having the opportunity to serve communion while he was present cannot be put into words.

Chris has become more than a mentor now; he is family.