Sent to Serve Garrett’s latest graduating class receives their diplomas p. 4 Faces of the Faithful Hear from our newest alums where and how they feel called to ministry p. 11 A Balm in Mutare A new international partnership seeks to improve public health p.20
Guided by a shared belonging, we forge a hope-filled future
My heart is still overflowing with commencement joy!
It’s my favorite day to serve as Garrett’s President, as I charge our graduates to boldly follow their ministries and then hand them their diplomas, a tangible sign of their years of study and preparation in pursuit of that call. In a world that palpably needs hope, they carry it in their bodies, out our doors and into the world. It’s also a potent reminder of this institution’s legacy—the generations of clergy who have been shaped by Jesus’ values, and who daily seek to strengthen the witness of the church and to heal the world. Venues for graduation may have changed—the first Chicago Training School students received their diplomas in a Victorian rowhouse on West Park Avenue, and both the Garrett Biblical Institute and Evangelical Theological Seminary found their genesis in other homes— but the commitment to training faithful servant-leaders endures. Then as now, it is a manifestation of God’s
steadfast love, born afresh to nurture collective transformation.
It’s an awe I experience often as we labor to improve access and affordability to our degree programs, broaden our impact, deepen our connections, and secure Garrett’s future. What we build together transcends the acts of any individual president, faculty, student, or alum. It’s an enduring testament to what humans can accomplish when we yoke ourselves together, tethered by the thread that connects our seminary’s history to where we are headed. I’m so moved by how our alums carry their alma mater’s ethos into the world—less a memory than a gift that continues to bear fruit. And I am heartened by the friends who invest in this seminary because they see our graduates as a vision for what the world might yet become.
Garrett has always been a school that knows the church’s work extends beyond its walls—that’s inscribed in our institutional DNA. It’s also, however, a place that values robust communal
engagement over sloganeering. In a world too full of empty platitudes and starved for genuine dialogue, it represents a vibrant hope that the love which connects us is stronger than the voices tearing us apart.
In this summer issue of Aware, we focus on visible testaments to that love. If the winter issue reveals our theological insights, these pages describe how community life becomes an extension of those values. From working with community members to improve air quality right here in Evanston to building relationships with colleagues in Zimbabwe, the stories offer a glimpse of the Garrett I see every day as president. Perhaps none do this better than our cover feature, which chronicles the creation of new groups where students, staff, and faculty form intentional spiritual community, practice storytelling and deep listening, and journey together across an academic year attempting to hear afresh the voice of the Spirit among us. I had the pleasure of participating in one of these story circles and watched the way it created connections across differences and time zones without minimizing the wondrous gift of that diversity.
Ultimately, community is where our salvation will be found. It’s not a coincidence that Jesus promised to be found wherever we are gathered in his name—it’s a reminder that faith must be lived in relationship to one another. Our embrace sustains the energy needed for this work, and our collective moral imagination illuminates the path that leads toward God’s reign. At this pivotal moment for both the seminary and our national life, these bonds of fellowship draw us onward, toward the river’s other side.
The Reverend Dr. Javier Viera President
Garrett’s graduates prepare to enter lives of service
By Benjamin Perry
“There’s something special, especially right now, about taking the time to celebrate the good in our world. To center joy, when we have it. To be in community and relationship with one another. To affirm life.” Dr. Simran Jeet Singh offered these words as he began his address to this year’s graduating class, but they nod to the overarching ethos Garrett instills in its graduates as they prepare to serve aching and fractured communities. In an age of epithets and vitriol, Garrett prioritizes dialogue and nuance. Against broad, sweeping narratives, the seminary offers contextual learning to serve communities’ particular needs. Amid rampant polarization, our graduates seek common ground. Truly, commencement was a celebration of those ideals as much as it honored the newest 58 alums who received their diplomas.
Dr. Singh fittingly embodies how religious values and ethical practice can
prepare leaders to confront intractable problems without spiraling into rage or succumbing to hopelessness. In his remarks, he described how growing up Sikh in Texas presented early and frequent encounters with racism that pushed him to contend with this question. “I was eleven years old the first time someone called me a terrorist,” he recalled. “It was at a soccer game. The referee was doing equipment checks, got to me and said, ‘I know your people like to hide bombs and knives in those rags. I need to check that, you little terrorist.’” Appalled at the official’s open bigotry but unsure how to respond, Dr. Singh stepped forward, lowered his head, and let the official pat down his turban. “I was so mad at myself. The rest of that day and the weeks that I followed, I asked myself why had I given into this person’s racism? Why didn’t I stand up for myself?” he said. “I knew I was a kid, but also I knew better. After weeks of being
Dr. Singh reflects on time with Garrett: “Not every seminary has leaders and faculty who welcome people from various backgrounds with open arms and open hearts. I felt that welcome too, a hospitality and generosity that seems to embody the best of what it means to be a Christian institution.”
upset, I finally gave myself a little grace and said, ‘this is a lesson for next time.’”
He didn’t have to wait long before “next time” reared its head. After basketball practice, Dr. Singh was playfully roughhousing with one of his friends when the other boy snatched the turban off his head. “I wasn’t even mad. He was my friend and I knew he was joking, but I flashed back to this moment with the soccer referee, how mad I was with myself, and this promise I had made that I’d stand up,” Dr. Singh recounted. “I jumped on [my friend]. I tackled him. I started punching, he started punching back. And as I walked out of the locker room, I remember feeling so confused. I thought this was what I was supposed to do, to stand up for myself, but for some reason this felt miserable too.”
By presenting the range between these two responses—a helplessness before abusive authority and an instinctive anger that ultimately left him feeling
depleted—Dr. Singh deftly named an omnipresent moral quandary.
For this graduating class, many of whom are already serving faith communities, the combination of widespread suffering, political polarization, and denominational crises can be paralyzing. Even well-intentioned churches can feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of the challenges that surround them, and ministers are often tasked with finding impactful ministries despite having diminished resources and increased demands for their time. In such circumstances we cannot do everything, but commencement offered several models for how to serve with courage and compassion. Three honorary doctorates were presented in the chapel that morning. The first, to Mr. Roland Fernandes, the General Secretary of the United Methodist General Board of Higher Education and Ministry. For more than
30 years, Mr. Fernandes has served UMCOR global ministries, cultivating international partnerships that pursue decolonial models for providing aid— working with partners in more than 120 countries. For that work to be faithful, it must not only be reciprocal between both parties—it must honor both the generations that preceded us and those that are to come. “You stand at the intersection of past and future,” he said, talking to the graduates. “But it is one thing to celebrate change by experience, by faith, by education. It’s another to lose sight of where we come from.” That sense of belonging to something greater than the self was echoed by Dr. Hla Hla Aye, a medical doctor who also worked through the World Health Organization and United Nations as a lifelong advocate for disabled people and for women’s sexual and reproductive health and rights. “Originally I just wanted to become a clinician,” she said as she received her honorary degree, “But God led me to become connected to the needs of the people, especially during social and political turmoil.”
The final honorary doctorate was announced as a surprise, to celebrate Rev. Dr. David Heetland who retired this spring, after serving Garrett’s development office for 42 years. Over the course of his remarkable tenure, Rev. Heetland helped raise more than $160 million for Garrett’s endowment, a towering legacy that will fund scholarships and programs for decades to come. This monumental gift is grounded, however, in the fundamental disposition of gratitude that Rev. Heetland brings his work. “If you are true to doing what God has called you to do, you will be blessed many times over,” he counseled the graduates. “And that’s how I feel today. I have been blessed.”
This broader commitment to place and people is also represented by the two faculty members who retired as professors emerita. Dr. Hendrik Pieterse leaves his post as Associate Professor of Global Christianity and Intercultural Theology after 15 years, while Dr. K.K.
Yeo retires Harry R. Kendall Professor of New Testament at Garrett Seminary after a stunning 29 years educating Garrett students. Both men’s legacy is not only borne in the profundity of their scholarship or longevity of their tenure, however, but in the hundreds of lives their classrooms shaped. Wisdom and mentorship aren’t bounded in time, they ripple across the ministries they nurture, bringing to world closer to Christ’s transformative love.
Indeed, a principle that unites all the people honored on that venerable morning is the conviction that local community is where enduring change takes root. Whether our graduates become parish ministers, counselors and chaplains, non-profit executives, or professors, their lives are an investment in grassroots leadership. Even as culture swiftly changes, Garrett commits itself to the gospel’s enduring hope: God is present wherever two or three are gathered in God’s name and
“Each of us can love and lead with courage, humility, and wisdom.”
resurrection manifests among disciples who follow in the way of Jesus. This is not the first time that the Church has faced monumental threats or existential danger. Christian communities have lived under plagues, wars, and fascist governments, persevered through persecution, economic ruin, and natural disasters, and still have found ways to labor for the thriving of the church and the healing of the world.
That call is not an easy one, however, so Dr. Singh stressed how ritual practice can ground religious leaders in the power that sustains them, reminding them who and whose they are. “When I wrap my turban every morning, I think about my values as a Sikh,” he noted. “I’m wrapping my turban and I’m thinking about service, love, and compassion. I’m asking, ‘How am I going to live these values today?” Whether he was facing the challenge of remaining rooted in these principles against widespread prejudice in the wake of 9/11 or just the promise of another day, spiritual formation offered the foundation for ethical fortitude. “By exercising these muscles regularly, I’d strengthen them to the point where I could carry more than before,” he observed. “When difficulty came, I would be trained to respond with my values rather than from a place of fear or anger.”
In his conclusion, Dr. Singh offered a Punjabi parable of hope in dangerous times. “There’s an old tale about the first time the sun was setting,” he said. “The people were afraid that when the sun would finally set, the night would be permanent.” In a remote corner of the land, however, a small lantern lit its wick. It was unable to extend its power far beyond its own house, but determined to offer what it could. “A nearby lantern, inspired, lifted its wick,” Dr. Singh said, a smile growing across his face. “Then another, and another—one by one—as the people watched in amazement as so many little lanterns illuminated the Earth, and there was brilliance.” Speaking before 58 radiant lantern bearers, Dr. Singh proclaimed the hope they offer against the gathering night. “This folktale has been a compass to me,” he said, “There is so much pain, so much suffering, but each of us can love and lead with courage, humility, and wisdom. Reflect not just on what you will do next, but also how you will do it—with what spirit, intention, and integrity. I invite you to ask yourself, ‘In my small corner, what will I do to share my brilliance with the world?” †
Dr. Brian Bantum and his students discuss art’s theological role
“Theology is a story that we tell. That doesn’t make it less true but, if we admit it’s a story, we begin to realize the creative possibilities for how we tell it.” When Dr. Brian Bantum discusses weaving art into theological education, his approach goes far beyond adding novels or poetry to the course syllabus. Garrett’s Neal F. and Isla A. Fisher Professor of Theology routinely incorporates artistic practice into the classroom,
even replacing some tests and papers with projects that ask people to share their understanding of God through mediums beyond linear thought. “As Christian leaders, students’ work will constantly require them to creatively articulate who God is,” he says. “That demands we read the world and choose different forms of expression. Artistic process teaches close observation, then asks us to create something that participates in the life of God—nourishing
ourselves and nurturing others.” This shift in content and pedagogy breathes new life into his classrooms and, students report, grants a richer understanding of God and one another. Integrating art moves theology from a consumptive model that asks students to learn what they believe by regurgitating other theologians toward a process of revelation and discovery. “I was able to access parts of myself and feel connected to God in ways that I hadn’t before,” says MDiv student Emily DeLew. “It helped me journey from my more dogmatic past—questions of what is right and what is wrong—into a place where I’m receptive to the presence of God.” This change is part of what Dr. Bantum hopes art can awaken in students. “Insofar as theology is reflection on a God who becomes flesh, the arts help us to remember and understand how materiality functions,” he says. “What we know flows not from a kind of floating brain out into the world, but by an organic process through which we come to know, feel, and experience through the creation of things.” In this way, art isn’t just a pedagogical device—it gives students a more truthful epistemology. “It really is transformative,” agrees D’ana Downing MDiv ‘22, who took several classes with Dr. Bantum. “We entered into an intimate way of knowing who God is to us, but also knowing how we belong to each other.”
It’s fitting that Downing uses the word “intimate” when describing the gifts this pedagogy offers, because it’s a theme that recurs often when you speak with Dr. Bantum’s students. “Class was a soulbaring time,” says MDiv student Janson Steffan. “People shared things that were real and personal, and the whole class would thank them for being vulnerable enough to trust us with those disclosures. It was an amazing experience.” Classes often feature the creation of poetry, collage, watercolor and other physical expressions, which students are then invited to share. “Community is an essential part of living out our
theologies,” Downing explains. “To collaborate and co-create with one another and the Creator—there’s an aspect of being deeply seen and deeply known that helps us come alive.”
Art also possesses a crucial ability to pull marginalized voices into the center of theological discourse. Dr. Bantum models this potential by including novels like The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison and The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri on the reading syllabus, but broader artistic integration also invites students to contest the way power shapes our theological boundaries. “’Sacred’ and ‘profane’ is almost always a question of power,” Dr. Bantum offers in example. “It asks who we say looks more like God, and who will be excluded from God’s image.” Instructing students to create their own theological art invites them to question messages they have received about how God moves through the world. “Something can be sacred but also be messy,” Downing says with a smile. “We had the opportunity to affirm an embodied theology, one that says ‘I am good, holy, and whole,’ that the Holy Spirit co-creates beside us as we bring something new into the world. From this discovery, we are untethered from harmful thoughts and things that never served us.”
While all of this may sound like an unorthodox way to guide theological inquiry, Dr. Bantum is quick to point out how art is already at the center of Christian life. “Even communion functions as an artistic reflection of who we are and who we might be,” he explains. “It’s a visual materialization that God wants to be with us, that we are good, and that God wants us to live. Every week we get to be part of that artistic practice.” Steffan, in turn, points out how art has helped him better understand long-cherished theological concepts like the ineffable nature of God. “There are things about God that you can’t explain with words. If it was as simple as that, then the box around God would get smaller and smaller,” he
“To collaborate and co-create with one another and the Creator— there’s an aspect of being deeply seen and deeply known that helps us come alive.”
notes. “Each way we express ourselves offers another window into who God is, waiting for us to explore new dimensions of the divine.”
While Dr. Bantum is effusive about how this approach to theological education can benefit all learners, he’s careful to state that students are not evaluated by how “good” their art is in an aesthetic sense. “For example, the culminating project in one class has students create a systematic theology through the visual progression of five images. But what I’m most interested in evaluating is their thinking and process,” he says. “I help students see how, at the end of the day, art is the accumulation of small marks. Even for students who don’t see themselves as artists, it’s beautiful to watch them move from fear toward experiencing a part of themselves open through that process.” DeLew is one of those students. “I don’t consider myself creatively oriented. I can write really good emails and papers, not poetry,” she laughs. “At first making art was nerve wracking and felt foreign, especially since others in the class readily
Process Is the Purpose:
The creation of mediums like collage can tap into different ways of understanding than how students have traditionally learned theology, widening our knowledge of God.
considered themselves artists. But the more I explored it, I felt something shift deep inside myself—a spiritual connection to the act of creation.”
This affinity for creation is at the heart of why Dr. Bantum carves for art such a central role: He believes it will better prepare students for careers in ministry. As the new faculty advisor for Garrett’s Master of Arts in Public Ministry, he’s attentive to how art can function as a prophetic proclamation of God’s will for the world. “Some of my frustration with academic theology— especially being a person who’s married to a pastor—is that we can’t just critique
what others have done. We have to build something,” he says. “It’s not as though art doesn’t critique or isn’t in conversation with ideas and realities of the past, but it does all of those things by putting something on table, by making something new.”
Downing has already experienced the benefit to this approach in her work as Associate Chaplain & Associate Director of Religious and Spiritual Life at Northwestern University. “I’ve created something called the Middle Space where I’ve worked with students to create self-portraits and collages,” she says. “It’s awe inspiring to watch students find their voice, to say things about themselves that they were never able to say to their families of birth, and to create new circles of belonging.” Steffan similarly names how he’s been able to incorporate arts into his preaching, offering sermonic aids that help congregants who are visual processors connect to the text. DeLew, who plans to pursue chaplaincy after graduation, is excited for how she can use art to help patients express themselves. “It helps me be curious and compassionate about people’s varied life journeys,” she says. “It gives me a window into their experience of God, and how I can support that.”
The combination of all these factors—a deepened theological understanding, nurturing an intimate class environment, facilitating self-discovery, and developing practical skills for ministry—have only inspired Dr. Bantum to increase artistic expression’s central place in his classroom. But he also hopes it offers students an emotional connection to theological inquiry that the discipline too often lacks. “Theology ought to be beautiful,” he concludes with reverence. “I don’t necessarily mean beautiful as in something pretty, but it should cause us to pause, or perhaps give us a moment of joy or terror. Theology should be something that grasps us. If we’re not doing that, then I’m not sure we’re doing theology well.” †
Five members of the graduation class describe their vocation. From traditional parish ministry to chaplaincy and counseling, their lives are a testament to how God uses our unique gifts to foster healing and wholeness.
Job
Pangilinan, MDiv
Sometimes God has you right where you’re needed most. While Job Pangilinan discerned his call to seminary, he was also serving in lay ministry at Seattle’s Fairwood Community United Methodist Church and realized he couldn’t leave his community for three years. The church depended on his leadership and he felt the Spirit rooting him in place, his pastoral gifts finding abundant use. Still, he knew he was called to serve as a Methodist elder so he jumped at the opportunity when he learned he could study remotely and receive his Master of Divinity at Garrett Seminary without leaving Washington. It was a fortuitous choice: Three years later, he’s not only graduating with his degree, but has also built a ministry that helped more than 150 Venezuelan refugees find the welcome and resources they need to build a new life.
Like many acts of faithfulness, Fairwood’s migrant ministry began with
saying “yes” to an urgent communal problem without a clear vision for how their small church would be able to meet the enormity of people’s needs. “It was a very controversial decision for the church to make, but it was a call of crisis when we knew that families and children were sleeping in the park with nowhere to go,” Pangilinan confesses. “We just opened our doors and let them stay in the sanctuary. We didn’t have a plan, just a desire to give them warmth— everything else followed.” One year later, the church has been able to offer much more than refuge. “We’ve taken their kids to school, provided them with
food, clothing, and a warm place to sleep,” Pangilinan reports with joy. “Isn’t this what Christ wants the church to do? And it’s created transformation within our community: People are offering ESL classes, donating food, loving God by loving our neighbors.”
“God will provide them with their needs, despite all the fear that’s around them. This is the way the Spirit moves, a challenge to see how far you will follow love.”
Over the course of this incredible year, Pangilinan has been deeply moved by how the faith of the people he’s helping has deepened his own. “They have walked a journey thousands of miles into the unknown seeking safety,” he says. “It’s the theology that guided the biblical Hebrews. When you ask them, they will tell you outright: We are crossing the Red Sea.” As debates about immigration swirl throughout the country, through acts of service Pangilinan and his church have found a way to turn down the volume on venomous rhetoric pointed towards the strangers God explicitly calls us to welcome. “It breaks my heart, but it has also strengthened my faith,” he shares. “They are still filled with hope that God will provide them with their needs, despite all the fear that’s around them. This is the way the Spirit moves, a challenge to see how far you will follow love.”
Ministry takes more than faith, however. It also takes resources, and the church has been overwhelmed by the wider community’s response. “Initially, we had so many questions about whether we could do this—we knew it would be expensive,” he recalls. “We have proven all those doubts wrong as the church continues to flourish. Non-profits and neighbors
have donated money to sustain this ministry.” It’s also become a potent gift for evangelism. “Even neighbors who don’t consider themselves church members, who might never come worship, are participating,” he says. “They volunteer, they give their time. That’s what church is all about, when a congregation opens its doors and the community floods in. Imagine how it would astronomically change the world if this were how every church acted.”
Throughout the process of guiding the church through this revitalizing ministry, Pangilinan has been attending classes online, writing papers, and learning new skills he can use to support the congregation’s incredible work. “There’s no better way of learning than applying what you’ve learned,” he laughs. “Every time I learn something I know is adaptable, my own church benefits immediately. I’m using things the same week, sometimes the day, I learn them—whether its preaching tips, pastoral counseling, or cultural competencies.” Indeed, he says that one of the most potent ways his education has shaped his ministry is the transnational character of Garrett’s online classroom. “My peers come from all over the world, which has broadened my lens, receiving knowledge from so many sources,” he reflects. “It’s an incredible synergy where all of us contribute and enrich each other’s experience, validating the work of God through our experience and testimony.”
This gift is exactly what Garrett intended when the seminary expanded its degree programs to offer the option to pursue a fully-remote MDiv. More students like Pangilinan are pursuing ordination while already serving a community or balancing the demands of higher education and family life. A remote MDiv ensures that residential education does not become a barrier that prevents anyone from following the call God has placed on their life. But it’s not just a benefit to students: By tethering our community to all the places in which our students live
and serve, Garrett’s community more fully reflects the beauty of God’s global church. Pangilinan’s ministry is a living witness to this truth. During graduation week, he was honored to preach in chapel, testifying, “Surely goodness and mercy have followed us here!” And churches like Fairwood grow stronger, infused by the lifegiving theologies nurtured in Garrett’s classrooms. “I’m not saying we’re a perfect church,” Pangilinan concludes, “but what’s important is that we’re a church who is listening to the voices of both God and our community—and acting on that love.”
Ryan Haas, MDiv
Ryan Haas’ call story began in tragedy. He was on a high school mission trip when he learned that his associate pastor, who the community thought had beat his battle with cancer, answered an unexpected phone call: He was newly diagnosed with a cantaloupe-sized tumor. “We were all distraught, heartbroken, and started mourning right there in the hallway because we knew he was going to die,” Haas recalls. “In that moment, our youth director was so composed and offered strength, told us we could ask questions and be angry with God. She said, ‘I can’t fix this for him or anyone, but we can be here together in our grief.” Haas was the slowest to rejoin the group because the
experience viscerally reminded him of his own father, in and out of hospitals his entire life. “It just isn’t fair,” he says solemnly. “But my youth director was so helpful—no answers or conclusions, we just got to wrestle with the news.” When the group returned home and he had time to reflect on his experiences, he knew what he wanted to do. “We were sharing our experience with the church,” he remembers. “I finally got to the microphone, and I said, ‘I want to do what our youth director did for us on this trip. That’s how I want to spend my life.’”
This potent sense of vocation didn’t diminish with time. He attended Illinois Wesleyan University to pursue a religion and business degree and, upon graduation, enrolled in Garrett’s MDiv program. While he first entertained the notion that he might pursue chaplaincy instead, a youth ministry internship steered him back toward his instinctive path. “Working with the kids, I had the John Wesley heartwarming moment,” he says. “I knew this is where I should be and what I should be doing.” Life wasn’t through with surprises it held in store, either. At the end of his second year, a youth ministry position opened at his home congregation, First United Methodist Church in Normal, Illinois. Joyfully, he accepted the role parttime, which enabled him to continue his seminary education while also serving the congregation. Upon returning home, he knew he made the right choice. “It makes me feel so good when people say, ‘I watched you grow up and I’m so glad you’re back,’” he says. “There’s been an outpouring of people who tell that they remember hearing my call story when I was a sophomore, that they’ve been praying for me since that night, and now that I’m here those prayers won’t stop.”
In the intervening time, however, Haas developed skills at Garrett that prepared him to build robust programs for the community’s young people. “Dr. Blount’s youth ministry course was
particularly powerful. I thought he was going to tell us what kind of programs might work with our youth. On day one he said, ‘That’s not what we’re doing here.’” he laughs. “Instead, we learned how they engage the world, what’s going on in their brains, because if we can understand where they’re coming from and what’s changing within them, we can affect them in positive ways.” He also integrated faith and ecology courses to help his youth group care for the local ecosystem. While youth ministry is sometimes erroneously treated as an afterthought in churches, Haas relishes the opportunity to bring intention to this work. “Helping youth engage and understand their faith isn’t a someday thing, it’s a right now thing because life is hard,” he says. “A twelve year-old just reached out because they lost a grandparent, asking ‘What do I do? How do I find Jesus?’”
One of the most powerful ways a Garrett education has shaped his work in Illinois, however, is his ability to accept the job in the first place. “Being a fully online student was the only way I could pursue my calling, because youth ministry is a very in-person activity,” he notes with gratitude. “As a deacon candidate, I’m not guaranteed a job upon graduation, so being able to access school from wherever helps me get ordained but also live in a world where I really need a job.”
Now that he has graduated, he’s thrilled to dive headfirst into supporting these young people’s lives. “My own youth group experience was very chaotic, I had three youth ministers over four years,” he says. “Now I get to be an ongoing presence for them. There are things I can do to make the world a better place and to show God loves all people.” One of the first things he did? Made sure the youth lead worship on the first Sunday each month so they can take communion. “I never realized how important communion is until I came to Garrett and got the sacrament every week,” he says. “Now, the church sees and loves
“I love Jesus so much more than I ever have. It’s just not the Jesus that I always knew.”
that our youth are either ushers or communion servers the first Sunday each month. They’re going to get their communion, and we’re going to know God loves us.”
Emily DeLew, MDiv
“Jesus isn’t the one who takes away your suffering. Jesus is the one who is with you in your suffering and strengthens you through it.” Emily DeLew’s voice is resolute as she describes how God shows up in her chaplaincy work. It carries the steady warmth one longs to hear at a hospital bedside, a calm assurance borne from theological study and contemplative practice. Next year, she’s embarking on
a year-long residency at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Many people might be hesitant to serve in a level 1 trauma center, but DeLew maintains the same steadfast energy when discussing the prospect. “Jesus would be running toward where people are wounded, to the people who grieve most deeply,” she says. “Chaplaincy is how I can follow Jesus most closely.”
The road that led DeLew to this conviction traversed its own valleys of hardship and loss. She enrolled in Garrett while working at a large urban church, where she had been a member for more than a decade and had, some years ago, entered an executive leadership role. She realized she needed more education if she wanted to continue to grow and expand in her role so, feeling called to minister to that church, she began seminary. Unfortunately, during her first year at Garrett, she experienced problems within the church that led her to leave both her job and the faith community. “There was so much grief around that choice,” she says. “I still had three more years of seminary, but I found myself at a loss because the reason I entered was no longer there. That year was full of thoughts like ‘Why am I here? What am I doing?’”
This sense of instability in vocation coincided with the normal pain seminarians experience when wrestling with difficult questions about God and the Christian tradition. “Sometimes the deeper you go, especially in church history, it can lead to so much cynicism,” she notes. “Disentangling the white supremacist roots in our theologies, contending with racist histories within the church, you can ask, ‘Where is God in all of this?’”
What she found, however, was that this process of discernment led her to both clarity in vocation and a deeper love of God. “I can’t believe it. I love Jesus so much more than I ever have. It’s just not the Jesus that I always knew,” she says with wonder. “At the same time, I sensed God releasing me from local church ministry, redirecting me towards
hospital chaplaincy, to envision ministry outside church walls and participate in the beauty of God’s presence.” This palpable comfort reassured her God still had a plan for her future. “In that moment I knew that hope was not lost,” she shares. “God is found in deep connection—liberating and empowering.
As she completed her first unit of clinical pastoral education, she found opportunities to use skills she learned in Garrett coursework. “The most meaningful course I took was prayer and theology with Dr. Bedford, where the whole focus of the class was on contemplative prayer,” she says. “One of our assignments every day was to sit in contemplative silence—starting with 5 minutes a day and growing over the course of the semester—and, afterward, to write our thoughts in a prayer journal.” The steady rhythm of intentional time and presence with the Spirit was transformative to her prayer life, and gave her new skills to use in her role at the hospital. “I’m able to practice this while on shifts,” she shares. “I’ll be in the middle of a night shift or waiting for my pager to go off—feeling nervous, feeling anxious—and this practice has taught me how to give intentional space and freedom to access the divine even in the shortest windows.”
Now, she finds that the theology she reads blends deftly into the care she offers. “In Wendy Farley’s book Gathering Those Driven Away she describes how important incarnational theology is to how we make meaning out of suffering,” she shares. “The fact that Christ suffered was proof that suffering is not because of punishment, condemnation or blame. It is also proof that God will not abandon us.” As she enters the hospital room, she carries a potent sense of the indwelling holiness of the person to whom she will provide care. “I find it to be an immense honor to walk alongside or accompany people in these very specific moments of their lives, often unwelcome moments,” she concludes. “It’s a window into their humanity, their stories, the possibilities
of love and joy that form in the midst of our connection.”
Matlidah Dondo, MDiv
When Matlidah Dondo left Zimbabwe to seek her Master of Divinity at Garrett, she felt sure that she simply wanted to deepen her pastoral counseling skills so she could better serve students at the school where she served as a music teacher and administrator. “No, I definitely don’t feel a call to ministry,” she told her supervisor. God sure loves a chuckle at our confident intentions. Three years later, as she receives her diploma, she is pursuing ordination as an elder in the United Methodist Church—a dramatic transformation not only from her Roman Catholic upbringing, but also to her vocation and sense of self. This kind of change is not uncommon in seminary, but it speaks to how spiritual formation both connects students to God’s voice and illuminates the gifts that they possess.
Once you learn about Dondo’s teaching experiences in Africa, this shift toward ministry might not be a surprise. As an early-career teacher, she saw how many students lacked programming and structure after the school day ended, particularly those who didn’t want to play sports. To meet this need, she created a music club to give them an
outlet for passions and creativity that might otherwise land them in trouble. “Our school became vibrant in music, well known in the community, and we even won some music competitions,” she says with delight. “I became quite popular and was placed in charge of the school’s elementary department.” In this new position, Dondo was now responsible to care for students’ and families’ emotional health, offering care to whoever arrived at her office in crisis. “I didn’t know how to help them except to read the Bible and pray,” she says. “I consoled children and their parents, but I realized I was just using my own biblical knowledge, and that wasn’t enough. I needed to get those skills.”
When she arrived on Garrett’s campus, ready to learn more about care and counseling, she began looking for a new church home. “Someone told me, ‘You should try First United Methodist Church,’” she remembers. “When I heard Pastor Grace preach for the first time, I was amazed—coming from a Catholic background.” After some time attending worship, she was talking with Rev. Grace Imathiu and expressed doubts about her own ability to pursue ministry. “Grace said, ‘No, you can do this. It’s not too late,’” Dondo recalls. With renewed confidence, Dondo began considering a call to ministry, but to step into the pulpit herself still seemed daunting.
“The first time I preached I was shaking,” she confesses. “I wondered, ‘Who is going to listen to this? Am I doing the right thing?’” Experiences in Dr. Brooks’ preaching classrooms, however, offered the skills and conviction she needed. “The way I read and understand the gospel totally changed,” she says. “Learning to exegete the scripture, write a good script, even instruction on which voices we should use as we speak to God’s people.” As she moved through her internship, she discovered that where she once felt anxiety she now brimmed with confidence. “Now, I feel the Spirit float, flowing through my body,” she shares. “It’s hard to explain, just this overwhelming presence. I
preached last month and thought I was delivering a simple message, but then people started crying, people began to confess. God was moving in that place.”
This comfort in Dondo’s preaching reflects a broader spiritual formation she experienced in her Garrett years. “Spiritually I am growing. Back home, there was little room for Bible studies. This program has changed the way that I pray, the way I practice my faith,” she observes. “I’m no longer the same.” She also received education to expand the pastoral care skills that brought her to Garrett in the first place. Classes like pre-marital counseling and dying and suffering offered opportunities to pair academic study to practical concerns. “If I had not taken that class, honestly I wouldn’t have known what to do if someone came and said, ‘Pastor, I only have two weeks to live,’” she shares. “Now, I know how I can help someone navigate that process, to understand their condition and embrace death in life.” As she moves into the world, Dondo seeks to marry her longstanding desire to care for people with her newfound ministry. “I’m called to nurture,” she says simply. “That’s the most important role I play.”
Sanjog Patro, MAPCC
“The more you learn about yourself, the more you feel compassion.” In a few
“It’s very important to understand how Garrett provides a financial possibility for students like myself.”
words, Sanjog Patro cuts straight to one of the facets that makes Garrett’s pastoral care and counseling program so distinct. “The crux of what we’re taught is to venture deeply into who you are, knowing yourself, pushing your boundaries, expanding where you feel comfortable.” With its focus on traumainformed care, spiritual formation, and emphasis on clients as protagonists in their own story, the MAPCC has quickly become the seminary’s fastest-growing degree program. As Patro graduates, he already has a job lined up as an expressive therapist at Lake Behavioral Hospital, ready to put what he’s learned into practice.
For the past two years, Patro has served as a counselor to people who have suffered sexual trauma, an experience that swiftly challenged him to employ that training. “For someone like me who had no prior experience working with clients, you’re thrown right into the deep end and you learn to swim,” he says. “But I fell in love with counseling, and pastoral counseling specifically.” One particularly helpful lesson was to reflect on the energy he brings into a counseling space. “I still remember so freshly the first class I
had, Dr. Nolasco’s course on human relations,” he says. “The skill of being present sounds so simple yet is so complex. But if you truly believe that the image of God is in the person before you, then you become holistically present to their life.” At his new job, he’ll mostly counsel formerly incarcerated people and folks undergoing court-mandated therapy, but he says Garrett prepared him to see the commonalities across different patients. “Trauma may manifest with different symptoms, but its roots are the same,” he notes. “And regardless of whether someone has suffered sexual trauma, emotional abuse, or physical violence, your task is to create a collaborative process that places your client at the center of their own healing.”
As he describes the excitement he feels to enter this new chapter of his vocational journey, Patro expresses deep gratitude for the ways Garrett makes theological education accessible. “It’s very important to understand how Garrett provides a financial possibility for students like myself,” he says. “We want to talk about ideologies or counseling disciplines, but you have to understand that as a foreign student, financial access comes first. I never thought it was possible to study in the US The aid Garrett provides is why the program is a space of such diverse voices, which is essential for effective counseling.”
Overwhelmingly, what emanates from Patro is abundant joy at the prospect of leaving seminary ready to do the work to which God calls him. “It feels almost surreal, after all the classes and hundreds of clinical hours,” he exclaims with a wide grin. “I’m excited to work, man.” Not only is he poised for meaningful service, he’s entering that vocation brimming with confidence. “Self-actualization is so important to counseling’s ongoing, dynamic process,” he says. “What’s powerful about Garrett is they know that spiritual formation for the self is essential to care for someone else.” †
How experiences from the accounting firm to the board room shape a commitment to building God’s just future
By Rev. Dr. Andrea Wright,
’16 ‘23
It is an extraordinary honor to serve as Chair of the Board of Trustees at Garrett Seminary, a beloved institution that has stood as a beacon of faith and scholarship for 172 years. To be the first African American woman in the seminary’s history to hold this position is both humbling and inspiring. This moment is not just about my story—it’s about the progress we’ve made as a community and the work that remains to be done to ensure justice, equity, and inclusion across our society—at a moment when those values are acutely
threatened. Together, we are called to fulfill the seminary’s mission: to form courageous leaders in the way of Jesus, cultivating communities of justice, compassion, and hope.
My story begins on the South Side of Chicago, where I was born and raised. Growing up in this vibrant, resilient community shaped me in ways I am only now beginning to fully understand. The South Side taught me the power of community, the necessity of faith, and the importance of perseverance. These lessons carried me through my years in
the Chicago public school system, where I learned how to thrive despite the challenges of under-resourced schools and systemic inequities.
Education became my pathway to opportunity. I went on to attend Howard University, a place that not only prepared me academically but also deepened my commitment to justice and empowerment. Howard taught me to see the world not just as it is but as it could be, and it fueled my passion to make that vision a reality.
After Howard, I embarked on a career in accounting—a field where I quickly discovered that diversity was often lacking. I became the first Black person admitted to the partnership at my firm, an achievement of which I am proud, not because of personal recognition, but because of what it represents for others. Today, I serve as Partner and Office Lead for the Chicago office, where I work to create opportunities for those who have historically been excluded from spaces of power.
My experiences in corporate America equip me with skills that I bring to all of my leadership roles: strategic thinking, financial acumen, and a focus on creating systems that are equitable and sustainable. But beyond these technical skills, it has taught me the importance of advocating for inclusion in every space I occupy. These values align perfectly with the seminary’s mission to prepare leaders who embrace justice and cultivate compassion.
I step into this role at the seminary during a time of immense complexity. Across the country, seminaries are grappling with declining enrollment, financial challenges, and a rapidly changing cultural landscape. These pressures are compounded by the broader turmoil we see in the world— economic inequities, a climate of racial tension, and the election of a president whose rhetoric and policies have exacerbated divisions rather than healing them.
As someone who has lived and worked at the intersection of faith and
justice, I know that the challenges we face are not insurmountable. I believe this is a moment of opportunity for the seminary to lead with courage, innovation, and a renewed commitment to its mission. We must reimagine theological education to meet the needs of this generation, equipping leaders who can address systemic injustices, foster reconciliation, and bring hope to a fractured world.
We do this crucial work at a moment when diversity, equity, and inclusion are widely named as evils our country must eradicate, when they are in fact the beating heart of the beloved community God calls us to build. This crisis runs deeper than any elected official or administration: From school boards to board rooms, we are witnessing concerted efforts to tear down the programs and policies which empowered me to thrive. Religious leaders have a unique role to play, reminding people of the moral values which knit us closer together.
My vision for the seminary is rooted in my own experiences and the lessons I’ve learned. I want to see this institution become a place where future faith leaders are not only educated in theology but also empowered to serve as agents for communal change. This means integrating theology with the practical tools needed to address real-world challenges—economic empowerment, community engagement, and justice advocacy.
I am deeply committed to equitable ministry and inclusive justice. These principles have guided my life, and they will continue to guide me in this role. The seminary has an opportunity to build bridges between faith and action, showing the world what it means to live out the gospel in tangible, transformative ways. I believe this is the essence of forming courageous leaders in the way of Jesus.
As the first African American woman to chair the seminary’s board, I carry a responsibility that goes beyond the duties of governance. Representation
matters. For too long, religious institutions—like many others—have excluded voices that are essential to our vitality and mission. My presence at this table is not just about me; it is about opening doors for others and ensuring that those who come after me do not have to be the “first” in the same way.
I am also deeply aware of the legacy of those who came before me, those who fought for opportunities I now enjoy. Their courage and sacrifices remind me that I am standing on the shoulders of giants, and it is my duty to continue paving the way for future generations.
Garrett’s mission to cultivate communities of justice, compassion, and hope resonates deeply. Justice calls us to address systemic inequities and advocate for those who are
marginalized. Compassion reminds us to meet people where they are, offering care and understanding in times of need. And hope compels us to look beyond present challenges, trusting in God’s promise of a better future. It is not enough to believe; we must live out our beliefs in ways that uplift and empower others. These are values I learned as a student at Garrett, and they form a powerful foundation for the seminary’s future work and its impact on the world.
Leadership in this moment requires not only strategy—it requires purpose and courage. We must be willing to face hard truths, to acknowledge where we have fallen short, and to take bold steps toward a more just and inclusive future. And we cannot give in to fear when this work is countercultural. This is my commitment as Chair of the Board, and what I invite our seminary community to join.
We are called to lead not just for ourselves but for those who come after us. The decisions we make today will shape the future of theological education and ministry for generations to come. It is a weighty responsibility, but it is also an extraordinary privilege.
“As someone who has lived and worked at the intersection of faith and justice, I know that the challenges we face are not insurmountable.”
As I step into this role, I do so with a deep sense of gratitude—for my roots that ground me, for the mentors that council me, the communities that have supported me, and for the opportunity to serve in this capacity. I am also filled with hope for what we can accomplish together.
This is a time for bold leadership and faithful action. It is a time to embrace the challenges before us as opportunities for transformation, and to live out the seminary’s mission to form courageous leaders in the way of Jesus who will cultivate communities of justice, compassion, and hope.
I am honored to lead this journey, and I look forward to working with all who share this vision for a brighter, more just future. Together, we can ensure that Garrett not only survives but thrives as a leader in faith, justice, and community transformation. †
Evanston’s residents testify about ecological harm and a blueprint for change
“It should not be this way, and it will not always be this way.” In a few words, the Rev. Candace Simpson powerfully summarizes a theological proclamation regarding the Church Street Waste Transfer Station in Evanston, Illinois that creates noise and air pollution in the city’s 5th and 2nd wards. For several weeks, the Garrett PhD student has been interviewing community members who live near the transfer station, asking how that proximity has affected their lives. “A place that’s handling waste near where humans breathe, drink water, play, or grow food impacts every system,” she says. “And it’s difficult to live where you’re watching your city treat people differently depending on where they lay their heads at night.”
This research project was made possible by a generous grant from The Dialogue on Science, Ethics, and Religion, designed to gather community testimony about how the waste transfer station affects nearby residents. The grant application was co-authored by Dr. Kate Ott, the Jerre and Mary Joy Stead Professor of Christian Social Ethics, and Rev. Dr. Andrew Wymer, Associate Professor of Preaching and Worship, who sought to both amplify neighbors’ voices and better quantify their experiences. Inspired by how citizen scientists “mattered” onceamorphous ills like car emissions into measurable data, the overarching grant
“It should not be this way, and it will not always be this way.”
pursues “Faith Mattering” to record the station’s longstanding effects. “By conducting eco-autobiographies with folks who live in these communities, we are helping make sure their experiences of environmental injustice are ‘mattered’ concretely,” she says. “When we record how it affects them, and why they think about this on a daily basis, it can guide us in how to respond.” This is particularly relevant for concerns like air pollution, where contamination is not as visible as it might be in an ocean or river. “Environmental racism expressed in molecules in the air isn’t something you can see,” Dr. Wymer explains. “The goal of this grant is to create a broader awareness to folks in these neighborhoods’ lived reality.”
A theme that repeatedly arises in Rev. Simpson’s conversations is how racial politics guide who city planners decide should live near what other people throw away. “Every person I’ve spoken with has made the unprompted connection between race and where we put undesirable things,” she says. “I keep hearing the question, ‘why is this happening to us?’ followed by the admission that we know why it’s happening.” These feelings are intensified by the knowledge that Evanston isn’t even using the waste transfer station for its own garbage. “The fact that your city doesn’t care enough that you live in the vicinity of where people come from outside to dump their trash is loudly heard by Black and brown Evanston communities,” Dr. Ott adds. “Years ago, the city did a study on air quality around the station and found that it’s causing problems, but not enough for them to claim that they must do something about it.”
The report in question concluded that nearby air quality was polluted in a way that can increase the likelihood of cancer and cardiovascular diseases like asthma. It’s a story Rev. Simpson has heard as well. “I’ve heard a good number of folks talk about breathing problems,” she shares. “But even more talk about how quality of life is harmed by the smell and sound of big trucks coming down the block. We’re shaped by evolution to be disgusted by smells that aren’t good for us.” Despite these issues, however, she’s also heard a multitude of vibrant stories about why Black Evanstonians love their home. “There’s so much pride in the community and growing up here,” she says. “If it were as simple as ‘Well, I’ll just move elsewhere,’ then people would leave, but what I keep hearing it that it should not be this way for us or anybody else. For me, that’s integrity: To say this is not right, and maybe I could move but I’m not going to, because then what happens to this place?”
It’s why Rev. Simpson also creates space so folks can share their visions
“Every person I’ve spoken with has made the unprompted connection between race and where we put undesirable things.”
that affect people’s short and longterm health, listen to tension between people’s pride in their town and the shame that it isn’t the way it could be. That shame isn’t theirs; it belongs to the people who made these decisions.”
Garrett may not have been involved in the choice to build this waste transfer facility, but we can be part of the movement to remove it. Already, there are plans to expand work this grant started. Dr. Ott reports, for example, that they also recently received a small grant from the Unitarian Church of Evanston to purchase air quality monitors, which will be made available through the library of things at the Evanston Public Library. “We’re hosting a training on April 5th for folks in the community,” she says. “We’re hoping to work directly with faith communities to make sure that there’s outdoor air quality monitors near the waste transfer station, but this will allow anyone in Evanston to collaborate for a citizen science approach to air quality monitoring.”
for the city’s future. “A prophetic dream comes across in every interview,” she says. “There is a muscle being developed in speaking out, a deep passion for making our neighborhoods as God intended them to look.”
Inspired by other places in Chicagoland that won hard-fought changes to public infrastructure, there’s fierce determination in the righteousness of this campaign. “Bearing witness to the physical, material disparities that shape people’s lives is a starting point,” notes Dr. Wymer. “Then it becomes a question of what are we going to do? How will we keep bearing witness in more loud and disruptive ways to try to move the needle and make change.”
It’s crucial work for Garrett as an institution with professed commitments to ecological justice, racial equity, and the city it calls home. “Institutions of higher education should invest in the material lives of those who live in the neighborhood,” Rev. Simpson says. “Especially when it relates to choices
When waste transfer facility-sized problems feel intractable, storytelling can bring communal change closer. “The muscle of advocacy is so important,” Rev. Simpson says. “There is a sense of frustration, but also a very strong determination to speak up about these things—an enthusiasm to testify, to say, ‘this is impacting my life, children’s lives.’” In this effort, theology can become a method for proclaiming what people deserve. “My hope is that people feel this struggle is not theirs alone,” she adds with reverence. “If God is good in the way we say She is, then She cares about who we are in the cosmic sense, but also what we see, what we smell, what we taste, feel, and hear.” That love for our humanity’s particularities is at the gospel’s beating heart, but it’s also a crucial component to nurture agency that leads to transformation. As Rev. Simpson has heard from the community’s testimonies, this is what should determine the 5th and 2nd wards’ future: “We get to say what kind of life we want.” †
By Benjamin Perry
Health is a communal endeavor.
From the moment you set foot on Africa University’s 1,500acre campus in Mutare, Zimbabwe, you receive a comprehensive vision for how to nurture a person’s body, mind, and spirit and the relationships that influence every aspect of their wellbeing. I was blessed to join a delegation of Garrett faculty and staff that visited Africa University (AU) this January as we explored collaboration between our institutions. Over and over, I heard the same question in different formulations, one central to Garrett’s own identity: What do we need for the Church to thrive and world to heal? AU’s campus does not resemble Garrett’s— the university houses, among other initiatives, a large working farm, a mock court, and a malaria research center— but beneath those surface differences lay a shared value: We are strongest when tethered closer together.
The university’s founding was foretold in the 1890s, as the story goes, when a Methodist bishop and a tribal elder gazed from nearby Mount Chiremba toward the valley below. The two leaders dreamed that one day children from across Africa would travel to Zimbabwe’s lush, rolling hills to study and strengthen the continent’s future. That vision is core to Garrett and AU’s current collaboration. Every year, the Mageto Fellows Program— named in honor of AU Vice Chancellor and Garrett alum, the Rev. Dr. Peter Mageto (G-ETS 2001 & 2004)—offers full scholarships for African students to study in Evanston. They also receive
contextual education in Mutare, with the intention that they will return and serve the continent upon graduation. But dreams are expansive things: Throughout our stay and subsequent conversations, it is clear there’s much more Garrett and AU can learn from
one another, ways we can partner on ministries that alleviate suffering.
“We can think about topics like indigenous therapies, and how to make treatment more accessible. This excites me, because God desires us to have abundant life.”
One might expect the USA and Zimbabwe to have divergent needs, but the more time we spent at AU, the more we heard how our crises powerfully rhyme. Both countries grapple with a widening gap that separates urban and rural communities. In both, social media and disinformation have contributed to rising political corruption and eroding public trust. Climate change causes cascading harm on both sides of the Atlantic, and in both African and American contexts, churches struggle to maintain relevance in swiftly secularizing cultures. The question of how we foster wise and compassionate pastoral leadership amid rapid change consumes each institution’s faculty, but all who gathered agreed that these problems create a striking opportunity to reinvigorate churches’ mission and connection with the communities they serve.
Public health has long been a focus for philanthropic work across Africa; interventions against malaria are a paradigmatic example. We, in fact, had an opportunity to tour AU’s malaria research laboratory, speaking with scientists who breed mosquitos to study infected insects’ behavior patterns, and
lab technicians who examine their DNA markers. However, as Vice Chancellor Mageto pointed out in a meeting, cancer is swiftly becoming the leading cause of death across Africa, but there are few oncology centers or treatment programs. “We have an opportunity to convene an international conference about cancer and theology,” Dr. Mageto said animatedly. “We can think about topics like indigenous therapies, and how to make treatment more accessible. This excites me, because God desires us to have abundant life.”
Two Garrett professors on the delegation—Rev. Dr. Esther Acolatse, Professor of Pastoral Theology and World Christianity, and Rev. Dr. Kenneth Ngwa, Donald J. Casper Professor of Hebrew Bible and African Biblical Hermeneutics and the Director of Garrett’s Religion and Global Health Forum—quickly—quickly seized on opportunities such a partnership could present. “If theological education is forming people who would create a healthy world, part of what we need to do is talk with scientists, medical professionals, and the environmentalists who are saying that we must care for ecosystems because communal health is so interconnected,” Dr. Ngwa explained. “The measuring standard for our success is how we’ll take care of people’s bodies—how did you care for the body that was broken, hungry, or sick.” Pastoral care becomes a crucial part of helping connect people with necessary healthcare, particularly in underresourced areas. And that work is crucial for helping churches likewise grow vitality. “Leadership is a core part of discipleship,” Dr. Acolatse added. “Jesus called disciples, trained them, and formed them to go and do, not only to go and be. We have a chance to be intentional about that in a continent that needs it so much.”
In one meeting, Dr. Mageto stated that millions of people across Africa lived hours away from the nearest hospital, presenting a significant challenge to healthcare access. In addition, he
explained, many people are suspicious of Western medicine and resist seeking treatment for cancer and other illnesses. However, while these communities may lack a medical complex, almost all have a church. He’s currently envisioning a program that would train pastors in how to provide pastoral guidance and factual information that can help people discern the best choices for their bodies, and also connect them to lifesaving care that’s far from where they live. When he described these circumstances, Drs. Ngwa and Acolatse were quick to note that these are also common problems in the United States, particularly in rural areas. Closures of small community hospitals and widespread misinformation on social media have created health crises, with significant concentrations in the South and Midwest—coincidentally also the regions where people are most likely to have strong ties to local parishes. We left Zimbabwe not just with deeper connections to staff and
faculty at Africa University, but with great enthusiasm about how we can learn from African colleagues and collectively train pastors to serve as communal health ambassadors. As churches search for ways to knit deeper relationships, partnering to expand healthcare access sparks new connections by fulfilling the gospel’s call. Caring for the sick isn’t just a moral imperative, it can mend our fraying social fabric. “I must congratulate Garrett Seminary,” Dr. Mageto concluded at the end of our stay.
“This institution is embracing a call to heal the world by partnering with a pan-African institution, grounded through our relationship in the United Methodist Church. Together, we dream for transformation.”
Nestled in the Valley of Hope, Africa University is a living testament to how dreams bear fruit. As the sun sets behind the mountain, gleaming rays illuminate a cross perched atop a nearby hill—holy witness to what seeds new life. †
By Benjamin Perry
The act of learning to know and tell your story doesn’t only spark meaning for your own life, it helps you understand how your experiences integrate with other people’s stories, too.” Dr. Lisl Heymans Paul, Garrett’s Director of Contextual Education, notes that theological education is unique because it demands not only rigorous academic study, but also the emotional intelligence and deep spiritual formation that ministry requires. While reviewing how the seminary prepares students for field education and post-graduate careers, she realized students needed more practice in holistic communication and active listening. Alongside the Academic Dean, she designed the Story Circles pilot, a new elective program for first-year students. Now ending its first year, seminary leadership has witnessed the way this initiative shaped students’ journeys and invited the broader community into deeper relationship and belonging. “It’s been beautiful to watch students learn to listen deeply to themselves and understand how their gifts and graces intersect their surrounding context,” she says.
At their heart, the Story Circles are designed quite simply. Groups of 6 – 8 students are placed together in a cohort, each led by one professor and one member of the staff. Modeled on Paulo Freire’s culture circles, the format for each gathering is largely open-ended, creating space for the wisdom already present to emerge. Circles generally begin with a spiritual practice, then transition into one or more participants sharing about their lives, their call to ministry, and the overarching ethical principles which guide them. Those who are not storytelling are encouraged to listen deeply, asking questions that will help the storyteller better understand their social location and internal motivations. In the beginning, faculty and staff modeled this process, offering their own stories and sacred rituals.
“Vulnerability strips our false layers and takes us down to our truest self”
Gradually, students then assumed leadership and guided the discussion. The true magic, however, is how this straightforward format instilled profound intimacy and connection.
“As a new student, I thought this would help me connect with people outside the classroom,” says Medomfo Owusu, who began her MDiv in the fall. “But it became a way that I see God moving through other members of this community.” Given Garrett’s remarkable breadth and diversity, oftentimes the storytelling delves into tender, even traumatic experiences. Edumakono Zetho, another MDiv student, fled the Democratic Republic of the Congo as a refugee after watching when his father and siblings were murdered. “I love the
Medomfo Owusu is shaped both by her home in Ipswich, England and her Ghanaian heritage. A love of music brings her joy.
circle we built. It gave me space to share that grief and sorrow—how the war started, how I lost my Dad and siblings, how I moved to a camp with no water or electricity, no mental healthcare to process these experiences,” he says. “When I first told my story, I would often feel stressed and embarrassed. But I have seen how the Holy Spirit can guide someone else who’s moving through a traumatic event—it’s been an affirmation that God is still at work, that I’m not alone and should not lose hope.”
Faculty and staff facilitators have been deeply moved by the sincerity students bring to this process. “Vulnerability strips our false layers and takes us down to our truest selves,” says Dr. Melanie Baffes, Garrett’s Director of Academic Support and Student Thriving. “It’s been remarkable. A couple of weeks ago, a student talked about something so devastating in his life that we didn’t even speak after. We just sat with him in silence; students had learned on a deeper level what it means to accompany someone in grief.” When students make space for one another’s voices, it also helps them discern their own vocations. “As students share stories, they create connections between their lives, listening for how those ties will shape their calling,” says President Javier Viera, who also cofacilitates a circle. “It allows us to see the
people with whom we work or study in a deeper way than when they’re sitting next to us in an office or classroom.”
That isn’t just a gift to the students, it blesses the facilitators as well. “I’m in an advising and academic support role, so sometimes students see me in a onedimensional way,” Dr. Baffes says. “Here, they know me as a full human, it’s really enhanced our relationship.”
Perhaps this should not be surprising. It is, after all, our faith’s beating heart. “Our very existence as a community is the result of stories,” President Viera observes. “We begin with a story that’s been told and reinterpreted for 5,000 years from our Jewish forebearers all the way through the prophets and Jesus. Now it’s our responsibility to carry these words, which are not simply talking about things that happened in the past. We’re listening for how we can envision the world as God intends it— these stories inspire our imaginations and shape our actions.” It’s essential training for those who will serve in ministry, core to what Dr. Paul wants students to learn. “Too many ministry practitioners have made the mistake of entering a context and imposing their ideas on a community,” she says. “We’re teaching them that the solutions to communal problems are already present within the people. Oftentimes, the act of listening to someone or
helping someone tell their story is where an answer emerges.”
Exchanging stories also models how to build relationship across difference. “Through listening, you realize that you can be in community with others even if you disagree with them,” Dr. Paul says. “That’s so deeply needed in our culture, the recognition that listening with a willingness to be changed doesn’t only humanize others, but humanizes ourselves.” In the circle formation, organizers intentionally preserved ethnic, religious, and ideological diversity to better represent the communities that students will one day serve. “God designed us to
“Listening with a willingness to be changed doesn’t only humanize others, but humanizes ourselves.”
be in relationships, even through conflict,” Owusu says. “We’re building oneness, not sameness. When we have discussions that might be painful and never fully resolve, we’re also learning how we can still relate to one another as different parts of the body of Christ.”
To sustain a lifelong vocation, however, ministers need more than interpersonal skills; spiritual formation is crucial. That’s why the circles are also intentionally crafted as places where students will learn grounding practices that fuel their own faith, like Ignatian contemplation or Lectio Divina. “Since I joined Garrett, my wife keeps telling me how I’ve changed and deepened my prayer life,” Zetho reflects. “Every week, I find a new message in Scripture, a new meditation that brings my story and the biblical story together.” Owusu likewise praises how the group nurtures her heart. “Academic pressures will always be a priority in seminary, but this is a space where you can experience pastoral care,” she says. “It’s important to have a place where you can ask, ‘Hey, can you pray for me?’ Even as we
embrace liberation theologies and work to free all people, we cannot forget the piety that makes us sensitive to the Spirit’s voice.”
The hope is that eventually Story Circles will become part of all MDiv students’ first-year curriculum, because the fruits are clear. “Even just ensuring that students feel known by one staff and faculty members at the seminary helps with retention and makes sure students receive early intervention if they’re struggling,” Dr. Paul says. “But it’s also preparing students for ministry and helping them learn ways to remain in
love with God, connected to the beauty and brokenness of the world, and sustained in their ministry practice.” And Zetho’s broad grin tells you everything about the circles’ impact:
“I’m not ashamed to tell my story anymore,” he says. Still, the ultimate testament to the initiative is how God moves in their midst. “When we acknowledge the divine in one another, it helps us see how every person bear’s God’s image,” President Viera notes with reverence. “These students are going to go into congregations and hopefully create experiences where they aren’t the savior or prophet, but a member of the community who together are collectively trying to be the presence of God.” †
By the Rev. Dr. J. Keith Zimmerman (G-ETS ’74, 86)
Two years ago, God’s Spirit birthed an idea in me while I sat in a Board of Trustees planning meeting. The focus was on how students can stay engaged in their communities while also pursuing their theological education. As I contemplated this reality, which is a pressing one for many students who now seek a degree while also serving congregations, I took a moment to pray. Eyes closed and head bowed, a question confronted me: “How will you support a seminarian to live and lead in this way?”
A few months later, Scott Ostlund— Garrett’s Vice President of Enrollment Management—echoed this theme in a report to the Board: “Garrett is well-situated, especially in light of our proposed strategic plan, to support learners who are multi-vocational, balancing a variety of life complexities while pursuing theological education.”
The Spirit’s intrusion into each of these moments led me to speak with President Javier Viera and Vice President for Development Joe Emmick about how to best address this need. Their guidance led to the creation of the Zimmerman MultiVocational Leadership Fellows. The purpose of this fellowship is to attract, retain, and support students, especially seminarians of color, and prepare them for multi-vocational work. In particular, the program seeks to nurture spiritual formation, mutual support, and leadership skills. I was moved by how the seminary worked with me to chart a course to make this dream a reality. I made a cash gift to initiate the creation of the Fellows,
a five-year pledge to the principle, and a planned gift. Moreover, I am committed to making additional annual gifts to cover the administrative and program costs, as long as I am living. I cannot do everything, but I can respond to the Spirit’s leading and the seminary’s commitment to enhance the spiritual and professional growth of bi-vocational students as they seek to fulfill God’s call on their lives.
At the same time, I was intrigued to hear about the creation of Story Circles that will form students in vocational identity and call, guide their personal and spiritual growth, and help them better understand cultural
context for religious and public leadership. This was clearly a further movement of the Spirit that paralleled the vision for the Fellows.
This year, Dean of Students Thehil Russelliah Singh and Associate Professor Hendrik Pieterse used the Story Circle format with the Zimmerman Fellows, and found it to powerfully knit the Fellows together while also spurring their own development. At the group’s invitation, I was privileged to sit in on one of their sessions. It was an honor to be included and to experience the blessed setting that the students and facilitators had co-created. After a long period of gestation, it was a gift to see in the students’ faces the promise of this program made palpably real—I could hear its impact in their voices.
The students I met are Christian Methodist Episcopal (CME) African American pastors working in other jobs to support themselves and their families. I listened carefully as one of the students shared his “Rule of Life.” He described his belief and spiritual formation practices and explained at length his experience in ministry and study, as well as his family situation and the difficulty of maintaining worklife balance. Despite these challenges, what overwhelmingly filled his voice was the gratitude of finding space to follow his call.
“My heart was touched by these leaders who are responding to God’s call.”
It is hard for me to describe adequately my joy at seeing this two-year-old dream find concrete expression in that conversation. The spiritual formation, mutual support, and leadership skills nurtured among these students was evident. Equally, my heart was touched by these leaders who are responding to God’s call and seeking to find their way while also honoring the demands of congregation, workplace, and family. It was a blessing to offer a prayer for them as the session closed, and I look forward to offering them further affirmation and encouragement. May we birth God’s will together. †
Robert Gardenhire III (G-ETS 1974) has published a new book titled I’d Follow “The Way” if I Could See the Road More Clearly! (Book Plus Publishing, May 2025).
Joy J. Moore (G-ETS 1989) was named the 13th President of Northern Seminary in Lisle, Illinois.
Stephanie Perdew (G-ETS 1996, 2012) was elected President of the Board of Directors of the Gichigamiin Indigenous Nations Museum (Formerly Mitchell Museum of the American Indian) in Evanston, Illinois.
Patricia Bonilla (G-ETS 2007 and 2025) will be serving as Instructor of Christian Education at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, beginning July 1, 2025.
Kimberly DeLong (G-ETS 2008) and Joan VanDessel (G-ETS 2018) appeared
in the documentary “Leap of Faith,” where twelve diverse Christian leaders find hope and fellowship at a series of boundary-breaking retreats.
Matthew Charlton (G-ETS 2011) is now the Vice President of Philanthropy and Development at Virginia United Methodist Foundation in Glen Allen, Virginia.
Karen Mosby (G-ETS 2014, 2018,2024) was named Assistant Professor of Religious Education at Meadville Lombard Theological School in Chicago, Illinois.
Tina Shelton (G-ETS 2015) was awarded The Christianity Today Book Awards, Fiction Award for her book This Ain’t No Promised Land (Kregel Publications, May 2024).
Jordan Harper (G-ETS 2016) was named Director of Development and
Communications at Care for Real in Chicago, Illinois.
Andrew Wymer (G-ETS 2016) was elected to the Illinois District 65 Board of Education in Evanston, Illinois. He also received the Evanston NAACP President’s Award in December 2024, and the Exemplary Teacher Award at Garrett for the 2024-2025 academic year.
Matthew Mariani (G-ETS 2017) was named Staff Chaplain for Surgery, Neurology, and Orthopedics at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago, Illinois, and a board-certified chaplain by the Association of Professional Chaplains.
Micah C.T. Sims (G-ETS 2024) was appointed Black Church Studies Program Coordinator at Northern Seminary in Lisle, Illinois.
Do you know a Garrett graduate whose life and ministry exemplify the values of Christian service and transformative leadership?
We are now accepting nominations for the 2025 Distinguished Alum Awards, honoring two graduates of Garrett Seminary or its predecessor institutions (Garrett, Evangelical, or the Chicago Training School). One award will recognize an alum who graduated more than 25 years ago, and the other will honor a graduate of the past 25 years.
Deadline for nominations is July 15, 2025.
Recipients will be recognized at Homecoming in November.
To nominate a fellow alum, visit garrett.edu/alumsand-donors/distinguished-alum-awards, scan the QR code, or contact Nancy Ramos at 847.866.3889 or nancy.ramos@garrett.edu.
NOVEMBER 5-6, 2025 | EVANSTON, ILLINOIS
Join us to reconnect with old friends, build new relationships and create new memories.
Homecoming is a chance to reflect on the many ways God continues to work through our shared calling and community. During this time of celebration, we’ll also host milestone reunions for: • Class of 1975 • Class of 2000 • Class of 2010 • Class of 2020 We can’t wait to welcome you home.
Rev. Dr. Ruth Duck’s legacy reverberates throughout the world she changed
“What we say in worship matters.” In a few words, the Rev. Dr. Cynthia Wilson ’13 captures the Rev. Dr. Ruth Duck’s incredible legacy. “Her life’s trajectory followed the belief that it was possible for the people of God to become, here on Earth, the koinonia God intends,” she continues. “She shook the world with what she said in her music, but she was never afraid.” In the months since Dr. Duck died, articles have trumpeted her accomplishments as a liturgist and hymn writer. The author of more than 200 hymns, her songs have appeared in countless hymnals and her book Worship for the Whole People of God —now in its second edition—remains one of the finest guides for crafting
liturgy. However, speaking with her students and friends, her life’s impact transcends any accolade or publication. “This woman became, for me, a sense of why I was good enough,” Dr. Wilson confesses. “She taught me how to teach others the same.”
In 1989, Garrett hired Dr. Duck as Professor of Worship—a post she would hold for 27 years. From that post, she ignited a revolution for inclusive liturgical language, particularly uprooting the reflexive use of masculine pronouns for God. “Her work pushed hard on conversations that are still growing edges for our students,” says the Rev. Dr. Andrew Wymer ’16, Garrett’s Associate Professor of Preaching of Worship and one of Dr.
Duck’s final Ph.D. students. “It’s hard to root out the male dominance and patriarchy that’s so deeply embedded in our tradition. She pushed both the church and academy to be a more liberating space.” And yet, Dr. Duck never allowed the enormity of that challenge or the resistance she received to stop her. “She wasn’t oblivious to these pitched battles, but she went about them in a way that was calm and peaceful but insistent,” he says.
“Because what is at stake is whether everyone can find themselves in God.” Tall and exuberant, Dr. Duck was a formidable presence in whatever room she entered. She used that power to ensure her students felt seen, empowering them to move the church
closer to God’s reign. The Rev. Brittney Stephan ’18 is one such alum. Now the Associate Pastor at Noblesville First United Methodist Church in Noblesville, Indiana, Rev. Stephan nearly left Garrett before Dr. Duck intervened. “I was working at a church with toxic leadership, an experience that all but convinced me ministry was not in my future, so I tried to drop out,” she remembers. “Before classes began, I told Dr. Wilson—then Garrett’s Dean of Students—that I needed to leave, and Dr. Duck happened to walk in.”
After listening to what Rev. Stephan experienced, Dr. Duck encouraged her to stay long enough to attend the worship class she and Dr. Wilson taught together. “The first day she explained, ‘You will all be tasked with creating the church’s future,’” Rev. Stephan says. “For
hosted meals at her house, especially for international students. “She always made sure that folk had what they needed, but more importantly that they felt at home in this strange land,” she says. “There wasn’t anyone who could not embrace Ruth Duck the person. They might not always agree with her, but she pushed in such a kind and insistent way that they would still gain a deeper understanding.”
Those blessed to know Dr. Duck outside the classroom found a woman who was every bit as generous to her friends as she was to her students. “At her table, she would share intimate thoughts about racism and injustices that women experience,” Dr. Wilson says. “She really understood what life had been for me as a Black woman, to the point where she bore a lot of pain
on top of her hat. We talked very little because Brittney and I could not pull ourselves together, we were laughing so hard.” As much as Rev. Stephan treasured Dr. Duck the teacher, it’s these moments she carries closest to her heart. “She’s earned every bit of her scholarly reputation, but I don’t want people to lose sight of the fact that she was one of the most genuine and authentic people I ever had the pleasure to know,” she says. “It wasn’t just scholarship. It was who she truly was, and who she desperately wanted the world to be.”
Dr. Wilson’s relationship with Dr. Duck began through music when—as an aspiring Ph.D. candidate—she played the professor “Wash, O God, Your Sons and Daughters.” It’s only fitting that music would fill one of
“We your people stand before you, waterwashed and spirit-born. By your grace, our lives we offer. Recreate us; God transform.”
– Ruth Duck, “Wash, O God, Your Sons and Daughters”
whatever reason, that’s all I needed to hear. If my previous experience was what the church would be forever, I didn’t want to be part of that. But they told me I could do something new, something different, and week after week they made that our reality.”
Generations of seminarians benefited from this nurturing environment, magnifying her influence across the ministries they now serve. “The beauty of Ruth’s work is that it created an entry point for countless students to disrupt the dominance we attach to God,” Dr. Wymer notes. “She grew up in a more conservative religious environment and understood where I was coming from, what I was grappling with.” Dr. Wilson shares that Dr. Duck often
because she possessed such passion against these injustices.” She could also be mirthfully fun. “Going with her to the Hymn Society was a hoot and a half,” Rev. Stephan adds with a chuckle. “She loved to dance. She was not particularly good at it, but she would joyously slap to her own beat—which was rarely two and four. It was whatever beat Ruth Duck decided she was dancing to that day.” This vibrancy extended into her later years, even as good health began to leave her. “She still had a wonderful sense of humor,” Dr. Wilson says, describing her and Rev. Stephan’s weekly Zoom conversations with Dr. Duck from her retirement community. “One Sunday, she came on the call with a duck sitting
their last meetings, too. “While her health was declining, I did a concert out in the Claremont area,” Dr. Wilson says, her voice scoring a tender smile. “She told her friends at the retirement community that I was coming and decided to organize a trip.” Dr. Duck wouldn’t confirm that she rented the bus which brought them but, as the event began, more than fifty members of her community filed in. “She was like the mother duck, with all the little ducklings following behind her,” Dr. Wilson recalls with glistening eyes. “It was like a homecoming. I sang Duke Ellington’s ‘Come Sunday’ because it was so important to her that I continue to lift up who I am. That’s just who my Ruth was.” †
Editor’s Note: Due to our magazine redesign, this list includes all memorial notes since May, 2024. Starting in our Winter 2025 issue, we will again publish in memoria biannually.
Steve Braudt, G-ETS 2014, Wilton, IA, died May 26, 2024.
Keith G. Davison, GBI 1955 , Stoughton, WI, died May 23, 2024.
Jim L. Hynes, ETS 1968, Grand Rapids, MI, died May 8, 2024.
Philip Bergstrom, GTS 1962, Downers Grove, IL, died April 17, 2024.
Gary L. Forbes, GTS 1965 , West Lafayette, IN, died June 4, 2024.
Rodney Gist, GBI 1953 , Sioux Falls, SD, died June 22, 2024.
Terry E. Litton, ETS 1967, New Concord, OH, died May 25, 2024.
Dennis M. Oglesby, G-ETS 1995 , Minneapolis, MN, died June 16, 2024.
Ronald D. Petrak, ETS 1957, Cedar Rapids, IA, died June 20, 2024.
James W. Ricketts, Course of Study, Dellroy, OH, died June 9, 2024.
David V. Harsh, GTS 1964 & G-ETS 1978, Madison, WI, died July 13, 2024.
E. Carver McGriff, GTS 1962, Zionsville, IN, died July 20, 2024.
Frank D. Medsker, ETS 1953 , Hastings, NE, died June 12, 2024.
Gary Putnam, GTS 1965 , Stockton, CA, died June 23, 2024.
Royal E. Speidel, ETS 1962, Jefferson City, MO, died July 21, 2024.
Harlyn C. Hagmann, GBI 1960, Minnetonka, MN, died August 9, 2024.
J. Donald Johnson, ETS 1953 , Carlsbad, CA, died June 27, 2024.
Cynthia Zolk, G-ETS 1988, LaGrange, IL, died July 25, 2024.
James C. Riley, GTS 1970, Galesville, WI, died September 5, 2024.
Donald L. Kuehle, GTS 1964, Jackson, MO, died August 13, 2024.
Irvine F. Huber, ETS 1954, Matthews, NC, died April 14, 2024.
Delbert G. Hargreaves, ETS 1957, Willowbrook, IL, died April 29, 2024.
Barbara D. Derrick, G-ETS 1987, Summerville, NC, died September 19, 2024.
David Albright, ETS 1971, Albuquerque, NM, died September 4, 2024.
Frances Alguire, G-ETS 1997, Chapel Hill, NC, died November 14, 2024.
Raymond Jacques, Course of Study, Beaverton, MI, died November 15, 2024.
Charles Wesley Johnson, GBI 1956, Carmel, IN, died August 23, 2024.
Robert McClelland, ETS 1960, Estero, FL, died October 14, 2024.
Gloria E. Miranda, Course of Study, Waunakee, WI, died October 30, 2024.
Karen B. Poole, G-ETS 1985 , Big Rapids, MI, died October 22, 2024.
William Tomlinson, GBI 1954 , Indianola, IA, died November 4, 2024.
William A. Rowen, GTS 1970, Spring Valley, MN, died October 25, 2024.
Richard L. Wehrman, GTS 1965 & 1974, Penney Farms, FL, died November 5, 2024.
L. Scott Woodworth, ETS 1968, Tacoma, WA, died November 7, 2024.
Ray S. Bair, G-ETS 1994, Elkhart, IN, died November 24, 2024.
Betsy Evans, G-ETS 2017, Beckley, WV, died December 14, 2024.
Patrick N. Green, GBI 1958, Green Bay, WI, died May 15, 2024.
Robert C. Grigereit, ETS 1962, Traverse City, MI, died November 30, 2024.
Bryce Hatch, GTS 1962, Hattiesburg, MS, died May 24, 2024.
Lynn E. Longenbaugh, ETS 1962, North Fort Myers, FL, died June 6, 2024.
Henry Williamson, GTS 1974, Memphis, TN, died December 25, 2024.
J. Robert Clark, GTS 1965 , Peru, IN, died January 28, 2025.
Catherine W. Hiner, Course of Study, Tiffin, OH, died January 28, 2025.
Donald W. Joiner, GTS 1970, Hendersonville, TN, died October 8, 2024.
Jesse Manering, ETS 1960, La Porte, TX, died December 3, 2024.
Terry Ann Moore, G-ETS 1991, Estancia, NM, died January 4, 2025.
Norman D. Steffenson, GTS 1970, Tucson, AZ, died March 15, 2024.
Lorraine Brugh, G-ETS 1994 & 1998, Peoria, AZ, died January 25, 2025.
James A. Fegan, Course of Study, Champion, MI, died February 15, 2025.
Kathy Wadsley, G-ETS 1993 , Nemaha, IA, died January 3, 2025.
James Waltz, ETS 1958, Willis, MI, died January 5, 2025.
Heung Soo Kim, G-ETS 1982, Northbrook, IL, died March 28, 2025.
Lyle Krumrie, ETS 1961, Wabasha, MN, died March 19, 2025.
C. Maynard Powell, GTS 1964, Middletown, IN, died January 5, 2025.
Douglas Trebilcock, GTS 1969, Midland, MI, died March 7, 2025.Paul Weinert, ETS 1955 , Falls City, NE, died October 31, 2024.
Judy WestLee, Continuing Education, Minneapolis, MN, died March 13, 2025.
Marjorie M. Bradshaw, G-ETS 1988, Osceola, IA, died April 18, 2025.
David H. Kruse, GTS 1965 & G-ETS 1980, Eau Claire, WI, died April 7, 2025.
Melvin W. Lindberg, ETS 1962, North Canton, OH, died May 23, 2024.
