Coming Out of the Priesthood

A letter to my bishop and the impeccable timing of the Holy Spirit

On the 3rd anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood, May 9th, 2023, I sent a letter to my bishop stating my desire to be released and removed from ordained ministry in The Episcopal Church.

My bishop received the news with great sadness, responded to me with deep compassion and pastoral care, and, after speaking with me over the phone and discussing the matter with the Standing Committee, she granted me release.

Yesterday, I learned that my release was effective June 1, 2023.

The first day of Pride Month.

Impeccable timing, Holy Spirit.

Photo by Josh Eckstein on Unsplash

The letter took a long time to compose. Coming out letters often do.

I wanted to get it right, but I also wasn't completely sure what "right" meant. The process of writing the letter became a process of learning my own heart. I understood myself better with each revision made. My confidence grew. Some words flowed out effortlessly, giving form and shape to the feelings I’ve carried around with me the past few years. Others just stood there, staring at me, asking me to be sure this is what I wanted.

In the end, I was sure.

And now I’m sharing the letter with you.

Yes, it was a correspondence between me and my bishop, which some might consider to be private. But in order to prevent against gossip and conjecture—which can be particularly ugly when a priest is suddenly no longer a priest—I’m opting to make it public. I’m not ashamed of this decision, nor do I have anything to hide. Also, this letter will be in my permanent file with the Church, so any number of people could be looking at it in the future.

But more than anything, I’m sharing this letter because I’m proud of myself. Coming out of closets is something that queer folk find ourselves doing again and again throughout our lives, and it’s never easy.

Sometimes we don’t even know we’re in a closet until we start trying to find a way out.

This letter is about me reclaiming my voice and my sense of agency. It’s about committing myself to being fully alive and imaginative again, resisting self-censorship, and leaning into what brings me joy. (In truth, that’s what Pride Month is all about.) It’s also a letter that points to some of the problems I see with the institutional Church. Hopefully, it can contribute to meaningful conversations about who we are and who we purport to be.

I don’t suspect that all of my former clergy colleagues will want to engage the ideas embedded in this letter, but perhaps some will. And for those that do, I’m here for that conversation.

It’s also a letter that honors my queerness, unapologetically.

This is a coming out letter, in more ways than one. And what better a moment to come out than now?

May you read it with an open mind and a compassionate heart.

Happy Pride Month, beloveds.

Yours in freedom,
Matt

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May 9, 2023

Dear Bishop Akiyama,

Peace and blessings to you from Colorado. I pray this letter finds you well and in good health.

Thank you for the kindness and pastoral care you’ve extended to me since assuming the office of Bishop of the Diocese of Oregon. The Diocese is under such good and faithful care. I’m writing you today—my 44th birthday and the 3rd anniversary of my ordination—with a request that I did not think I would be making when I was ordained in May of 2020, though I must admit that there have been many events in the past three years that have been unexpected and life-changing. This letter, in accordance with Canon III.9.9 of the Constitution and Canons of the Episcopal Church, is a formal request for my release and removal from the ordained ministry of this church.

My faith that God is alive and active in the world, leading creation toward the restoration of Beloved Community, remains. However, my desire to hold an office in the Church, and my belief that doing so would be the most generative thing for me to do with my one wild and precious life, is no longer present to me. I do not believe that the Church can or should bend to accommodate the changing shape of my life, and I understand that the Church, especially at this moment in history, needs clergy who, at the very least, desire to be in positions of leadership, with all that ordained leadership entails. I desire something different. Mainly, I desire the space and freedom to explore what new shapes my life might take.

As a married clergyperson in an outwardly heteronormative gay relationship, there was context for me in The Episcopal Church’s culture. What I discovered after my divorce, and in subsequent interactions in the Diocese of Colorado, was that the Church’s culture only has context for me in a very particular, limited way.

The Church, broadly speaking, is less than fluent in relationships that fall outside of a heteronormative, monogamous-oriented framework, particularly if those relationships are not headed toward marriage, as the church conceives of it. The expectations emerging from this framework inform our beliefs about how a priest is to live their life: chasteness when single, marriage once partnered, and monogamy in all cases. This is The Episcopal Church’s relationship rubric for its clergy, full stop. This is not doctrinal: it is cultural. And though we vow to seek to conform to the Doctrine and Discipline of The Episcopal Church, there is an unspoken expectation that we will conform to this cultural standard as well. If we do not, the Constitution and Canons, in their vagueness, make provision for us to be disciplined.

As a queer person who is called to explore the beautiful queerness of my own sexuality, the constant threat of this provision looms over me. I have no interest in challenging or attempting to change the Church’s expectations at this point. I simply do not want to be subject to them any longer.

There are other reasons I am making this request for release. Since becoming a priest, I have all but lost my connection to my own sense of musicality and creativity. That aspect of my being has, in a way, been subsumed under the weight of the identity of priest. In other words, I feel a lack of freedom to access my creativity and musicality, and to express those parts of me in an authentic way——particularly as it relates to my queerness——because I am preemptively censoring myself in order to maintain the identity (i.e. the role, the office, the cultural expectation, etc.) that the Church expects of me. This is not sustainable, nor do I think it’s particularly healthy. But God brings new life in unexpected ways, and I trust that there will be more opportunities for me to share my gifts and talents with the Church as a faithful Christian, not as an office-holding clergyperson.

I trust that you will need to verify with the Diocese of Colorado, but I will preemptively assure you that I am not involved in any pending disciplinary matters as defined in Title IV of the Canons, and that I am in good standing with the Church. I also recognize that, by making this request, I will be deprived of the right to exercise in The Episcopal Church the gifts and spiritual authority as a Minister of God’s Word and Sacraments conferred in Ordination.

However, I believe that there is a Calling at the heart of one’s ecclesiastical call that cannot be taken away, just as I believe that ordination is a means of recognizing the gifts that God, by way of being God, has already bestowed upon a person. We are all called to be caregivers, and to be blessings, and to use our creativity for the glory of creation. That is the small-p priestly call of every member of the Body of Christ. I believe that I can best live into that role outside of a formal office, and I hope that this letter provides some sense as to my reasoning behind this decision. In order to live my life as authentically as I can, and to honor the Church’s structures and systems as they currently exist, I need to move on.

Thank you again for your kindness and care. I am tremendously grateful for the ways in which you, the communities of Saint David of Wales, Grace Memorial, Saint Michael and All Angels, and many other churches in the Diocese of Oregon have accompanied me during this chapter of my life and allowed me the opportunity to serve. It has been an honor and a privilege.

I pray that the Spirit will lead us all to a deeper understanding of the radical beauty and transformative power of Love, in all of its forms.

Yours in Christ,

Matthew David Morris

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Here is the letter from the bishop to the entire Church announcing my release.