After public exile, Lillian Daniel found unexpected grace, deepened faith, and a new vision for a church that embraces honesty, healing, and restoration.
Pastor Lillian Daniel crossed a line that threatened to cost her everything. But the resulting scandal, which led to a yearlong exile from ministry and changed the whole trajectory of her life, also offered a pathway toward faith, hope, and a new vision for what the church can be for all, including those who stumble.
At a time when the church is facing both decline and its own public scandals, this is a story of what Daniel discovered about sin, repentance, and restoration only once she had fallen, as she puts it, "into the ditch," like the man left and ignored on the side of the road in the parable of the Good Samaritan. She realized that her understanding of what she was supposed to be as a pastor and as a Christian needed to shift dramatically, and she came away with new perspectives on what the church needs to become if it is to make it through its own time in the ditch. With its personal narrative of failure and redemption and hard-earned perspective on the church's internal processes, Daniel's story will be particularly valuable for church leaders navigating investigation procedures or seeking to build systems marked by transparency, healing, and restoration.
With soul-searching honesty, Daniel describes the isolating experience of being investigated by the church, as well as the good news she found along the way. She explains how the vital confidentiality protections put in place to protect victims can also overwhelm the whole church system, including those in charge of the process. And it is within that process that she found out who would show up and who wouldn't, witnessing surprising grace in the unexpected company of wise, caring people who helped her make her way back after her transgression. Through those connections and deep reflection, she reconnected with the God who, it turns out, had never left-whom she'd spent more time talking about than talking to. Ultimately, through this experience, she saw that the church will survive only if it shows up for everyone-saints, sinners, and everyone in between. This is the vision she has for the church today.
Emphasizing compassion, repentance, and the spiritual work it takes to relate to those who stumble, Daniel reminds us that the ditch is the place to which the gospel speaks most deeply. It turns out to be a place not simply of disgrace or injury but also of humor, hard work, unexpected guides, and vital insight, where the God we have always been dependent on comes to find us. And it's in that ditch, a place of real and lasting hope, where we can come together to begin building a better church.
Lillian Daniel has always been a gifted writer. She shows, in this book, some new and hard-won spiritual gifts as well - namely, vulnerability and humility. This is the story of loss. Daniel was the Senior Minister of a large United Church of Christ congregation in a Chicago suburb. As she tells it, right around the time her divorce was finalized, she engaged in a sexual relationship with a member of the church staff. That indiscretion was eventually disclosed by the other party, which led to her entering the mysterious and labyrinthine world of church bureaucratic investigation. Her ministerial standing was suspended, she pursued the prescribed “growth plan”, and then her ministerial standing was reinstated. But in the meantime, she was forced to submit her resignation to the congregation. There was no opportunity for explanations, confessions or goodbyes between pastor and congregation. The story has a happy ending. Daniel went on to serve a UCC congregation in Dubuque, Iowa for seven years and is now the Conference Minister for the UCC in Michigan. She is also married and seems to be thriving in all ways. I am personally acquainted with Lillian and I know some of the people and congregations in this story. I admire much about this book. As someone who has served on Church and Ministry committees and fitness reviews, I share her belief that the system is deeply flawed. As a clergy person myself, I resonated with many of her experiences. Ministers are supposed to hold boundaries. We’re told to not become friends with our parishioners. But what happens when your actual friends become your parishioners? Is it always wrong to allow closeness to develop between pastor and parishioner? She lists some of these as learnings: “…being a pastor was not and never should have been my core identity and the center of my relationships.” As she returns to the pastorate, she even tries wearing a collar while working and taking it off when the work day ends - a way to remind herself that her identity as a clergy person is a role. She sought friendships outside the church and developed new interests and hobbies. I was struck by this quote: “I never caught myself lying about myself as a pastor in my previous positions, but I can recognize there were lies the congregation told about me that I did not correct because they actually served me. Those lies included having a strong and healthy marriage when I didn’t, being happy when I wasn’t, being thick-skinned when I was bleeding, and being transparent when I was hiding my shame.” Throughout the book, Daniel writes of her desire to live a life “you can shine a light on” but what kind of light? There are parts of our lives that might crave and even deserve the spotlight, but sometimes we want more intimate, gentle, subtle lighting. I found myself wanting still more light from this book. Is there more Lillian could have told us about the “fall from grace” part of her story that would help others, especially those in similar professions? Yet I know how important it is for each individual to be the one deciding which light is right for which occasion. I received an ARC from NetGalley.
I was fortunate to receive an advance copy of this, and offered this endorsement:
In Defrocked, Lillian Daniel recounts her harrowing ecclesiastical exile and her eventual restoration to ministry as a different pastor - perhaps even a different person. The Lillian writing this book knows what it feels like to hurt people and be hurt by people; to desperately need grace and to generously give grace. She knows fury and she knows forgiveness. While she emerged on the other side of this experience with sturdy boundaries, we are lucky Lillian's boundaries don't preclude the telling of her tale and the sharing of her wisdom. This book is a gift to imperfect people, which is to say this book is a gift to all of us.
There is a lot of drama in the little church world around this book. Thanks to a friend who preordered the book I was able to read her copy. I would recommend this for extreme church nerds. But the general public probably won’t be interested in this sad story.