Herman (Holly) Hollerith, IV
Born: July 13, 1955
Married to Elizabeth Salmons; three children
Ordained to Priesthood in 1983
BS Denison University; M Div, Yale Divinity School
Canonical Status: Southern Virginia
Current Position: Rector, Bruton Parish, Williamsburg, VA
Previous Clergy Positions: Rector, Prince George Winyah, Georgetown, SC; Associate Rector, St. John’s, Lynchburg, VA; Priest in Charge, Christ Episcopal Church, Roanoke, VA; Assistant to Rector, Christ Episcopal Church, Roanoke, VA.
Question: Why do you want to become a bishop? What special gifts would you bring to this Diocese? What are the pluses and minuses of being a bishop in the Episcopal Church?
Answer: Some months ago as I participated in the work of transition for our diocese, I found myself developing a passion for Southern Virginia. I discovered just how really wonderful and talented and healthy the clergy are here. I felt proud to be among them. At the same time, it was clear to me that the very vision that I valued in my own parish was the same kind of vision that the Diocese of Southern Virginia needed in order to move forward in the service of Christ. I became acutely aware of just how powerful it could be for our common life if we could enable a diocesan process that was dedicated to connecting us, one to another, congregation to congregation, so that we really “learn” from one another’s programmatic successes. I saw how necessary it is for a diocesan administration to model healthy functioning for all the parishes and to clearly articulate a vision. I became excited by the prospect of a Church in the 21st century truly dedicated to the development of all its congregations. I wondered what the sharing of power and authority and the enabling of people in their gifts and talents might do for our life together. In short, I began to dream dreams, and that left me feeling excited about Southern Virginia.
I have been wrestling with the notion of a call to the episcopate for some time now. I cannot say that being a bishop has ever been something to which I have aspired vocationally. What I have recently discovered is a voice from within challenging me to consider the possibility that my gifts as an experienced priest - as a pastor, spiritual leader and seasoned administrator - is at this time, intersecting with the leadership needs of a particular community of people. What I have concluded is that – for me at least – the call to be a bishop must be a contextual one – that is, it must be a call to serve a specific body of people with whom I have some relationship and with whom I share some common sense of mission.
Frankly, I struggle with the thought of being a bishop in the Episcopal Church. Why would one want to do such a thing or assume such a role given the demands of the job on oneself and one’s family? Why would one want to accept a role that most bishops describe as basically “lonely”? Why would one want to place oneself in a leadership role of an institution that has been mired in controversy the last several years, appears to be shrinking in size, and is sure to face great public scrutiny as it struggles with congregations and even dioceses that are seeking to depart from TEC? These are questions that I continue to ask myself, even at this writing.
Do I “want” to be a bishop? I can assure you, “want” is not what brings me to this point. I am quite comfortable as the rector of a parish. I am experienced enough to know that being a bishop is not the way to preserve one’s life. But, I am also attempting to be faithful to a small, persistent voice. Southern Virginia is my geographical and spiritual home. My desire is to serve God and His people here, in the best way I can. Now I am discerning, and asking others to discern, if the call of that voice intersects with our common need for episcopal leadership.
Question: What are you passionate about in you ministry, your personal life, and in the world around you?
Answer: In my ministry:
I am passionate about conveying the notion of the priesthood of all believers. I desire for others to experience the Church, not just as an institution dedicated to addressing one’s personal spiritual needs, but a community, empowered by the Holy Spirit, dedicated to spreading the good news of Jesus Christ through service and witness. Likewise, I want others to learn the biblical truth that the church must be in the business of giving itself away, not preserving itself, not protecting itself, not being quaint or historic, but a community oriented outward, toward the physical and spiritual needs of the world.
I am passionate about inviting others to discover a deep sense of gratitude for what God has done and is doing in their lives. I believe that grace, not law, is the foundational element that empowers Christian stewardship, that real giving proceeds from thanksgiving.
I am passionate about ensuring that the liturgical life of my parish is deeply meaningful for all who worship there. I believe that liturgy, no matter what form it might take – traditional or otherwise – if it is to transform lives, must be done well – that is, it must possess theological integrity, be practiced with thoughtful reverence, and demonstrate continuity with our Anglican heritage.
I am passionate about the Pauline truth, as once described by Krister Stendahl, that “love is measured by its ability to handle maximum diversity”. I am persuaded that the critical issue is not how well we live together in our common agreements and shared likenesses, but rather how well we live with one another in our differences and in the midst of conflict. This passion informs my model for pastoral ministry.
In my personal life:
I am passionate about my family, their well being as individuals. I am committed to honoring their need for time with me and, above all, my need for time with them.
I am passionate about working with my hands in my leisure time. I find balance in building things. I am a closet engineer who finds peace when working on my metal lathe or designing my next boat project. I am a devotee of maritime archeology and will tell you more about early marine steam technology than you would ever, ever want to know!
I am passionate about being with others who live outside of my vocational arena and will remind me to not take myself too seriously.
In the world around me:
I am passionate about the need for all Christians to demonstrate radical hospitality. I believe that it is because of Christ, and not despite him, that we can dare to be open to the truth of other religions and the challenging questions of non-believers.
I am passionate about acknowledging the existence of evil in the world. I believe that, as St. Augustine once suggested, the first place to look for evil is all too often in ourselves. I am certain that leadership that is devoid of spiritual humility is inherently dangerous for all of God’s creatures.
I am passionate about expressing my citizenship in a positive manner in hopes of fostering positive change. I hold tenaciously to the dream that our great nation can embrace a vision and approach to the world that is broader and more Christ-like than merely one of protecting our political and economic self-interests.
Question: Please share 2 or 3 critical moments from your spiritual journey that helped you become the priest you are today.
Answer: Growing up in Alexandria, Virginia, and attending an Episcopal day school and a local Episcopal church, I was surrounded by clergy for most of my adolescent life. Many of my teachers and coaches were clergy or seminarians from VTS. In short, growing up, I was pretty much immersed in “Episcopal ethos”.
Perhaps the first memorable leg of my spiritual journey as a young adult began during my involvement in the youth program of my home parish. The seminarian assigned to work with the program was energetic, engaging, and himself a child of the 60’s and 70’s. His tolerance of my challenging questions and adolescent skepticism fostered an intellectual and spiritual curiosity in me about the faith. I distinctly remember a moment on a youth retreat, in the midst of a Bible study, when suddenly something clicked inside and I understood in my heart who Jesus was and what he was really about. This was coupled with the sudden resolution of some painful high school identity issues with which I had been wrestling and a real sense of God’s unconditional love for me. While I never shared the experience with anyone, I believe I was feeling the first inkling of a call. I entered college with absolutely no interest in ministry as a vocation, but with a strong intellectual desire to learn more about philosophy and religion.
The next critical moment of my spiritual journey occurred near the end of my junior year in college. The college chaplain, who was an American Baptist professor in the religion department and proponent of liberation theology, decided that I should become part of a special race relations group that he was forming on campus. This was rather curious because I was neither a student majoring in religion nor one actively engaged in the college chapel program. Nevertheless, he chose me to be part of a small group of students – blacks and whites – tasked with building bridges across racial tensions on campus. The group eventually became my first real experience of “Christ in community”. Relationships of reconciliation were established sometimes after painful conflict. The members became very close, personally. We learned important truths from one another about social justice and the power of radical love. And we found God within our small unity. It was my introduction to how powerfully Christ can bring people with diverse backgrounds and seemingly irreconcilable differences into communion. It was a life-changing experience - so much so, that it motivated me to pursue graduate studies in theology and to allow the reawakening of those earliest inklings of my vocational call.
My later adult years have been full of critical spiritual moments – from the birth of my children to quiet encounters with the mystery of God in worship or during private prayer or reflection. Perhaps one critical and vocationally formative moment occurred when I was a young rector of a parish in South Carolina. I had hit a low in my ministry and was feeling like all my efforts to enlighten minds, raise the consciousness of my flock, and resolve problems had come to naught. I honestly felt the parish was moving backward in time, and I was pretty sure it was my fault and that I was simply an inadequate leader. Across the street from the parish rectory was a neighbor of mine, a prominent retired priest, who had been a supportive mentor and sounding board. I wandered over to update him on my lack of progress and feelings of failure. Finally, in mid-sentence he stopped me, pointed his finger right at my nose and said, “Your problem, Hollerith, is that you have confused success with faithfulness. They are not the same thing, but you have yet to figure this out and you think, only when you are successful, that you are doing the will of God.” Those words hit me right between the eyes, because they were the words of Christ. Faithfulness and success are not the same thing! As a priest I am called not to be successful, but rather to be faithful to the Good News. It was a critical spiritual moment in my life that has since defined how I see things.
Question: Describe how you have displayed respect for the dignity and worth of every human being.
Answer: In order to answer this question with any real meaning, it is necessary to first explain the theology that undergirds my faith and makes this question both important and answerable. I understand myself as one creature of God who has been blessed with good fortune: a meaningful vocation, good health, a wonderful family, a great education, exciting opportunities, talents, gifts, interests and financial resources. The vast majority of the blessings in my life are purely unearned, unwarranted gifts of God’s grace. I don’t “deserve” what I have any more than those who have little deserve what they have.
For me, at least, the only legitimate response to all this good fortune is the response of gratitude, of giving thanks to God and making commitments to God that demonstrate this gratitude. Seeking justice in the world is one way of doing that. Giving away a portion of my wealth to the work of the church and other helping organizations is a way of doing that. Practicing radical hospitality to strangers, being one who welcomes others into Christ’s community is a way of doing that – to name a few.
The point is this: Respecting the dignity and worth of every human being is something I am compelled to do simply out of gratitude, from knowing myself as nothing more than a fallen, but forgiven, child of God.
So as one such child and as a priest of the church and a leader of a community of the baptized, I am compelled to remind others of their “luckiness” and to lead them to live with their arms as wide open as those of the crucified one. There are the obvious ways I do this – I preach to it. I teach stewardship. In an effort to lead by example, I personally volunteer my time for outreach and mission programs when possible. I encourage a broadening of parish mission and outreach activities and creative distribution of financial resources. I praise acts of hospitality. In general, I challenge complacency and strive to orient the parish outward. And frankly, in a parish such as mine, a parish in a rarified historical setting, this is a constant challenge. But, like farm work, it’s something one must be persistent about – to keep plowing the field in hope of harvest.
And there are other, more subtle ways I try to respect the dignity and worth of others. I make an effort to model power sharing within the parish system, beginning with how I treat my colleagues in ministry and ending with committee assignments and the delegation of parish tasks. I try to keep an eye out for those on the margin of the parish and bring them inward. I try and invite all points of few into the discussion. And above all, I demand honest, healthy communication within the parish leadership in an effort to enable healthy relationships.
Question: Please describe how you have responded personally, and in you ministry to decisions made at the 74th and 75th General Conventions?
Answer: Note: Of all the many important decisions made at these two General Conventions, I
chose to address here the ones that I believe were the most talked about. There were
other, less newsworthy, but equally important decisions that might also warrant mention.
In response to the news that the 74th General Convention consented to the consecration of Gene Robinson as Bishop of New Hampshire, I remember first feeling a deep sense of pastoral concern for my brother and sister clergy in my former diocese of South Carolina, and for the leadership of my former parish. Even though in the past, in theological matters around sexuality, I had not seen eye to eye with most there, I still valued the relationships I established during my time in South Carolina. Many of those relationships were forged from the fire of some powerful disagreements and were thus special to me, indeed. Given the deep mistrust harbored by many in that diocese for the “National Church”, I felt pain knowing that the decision would tear an even deeper rift in an already widening chasm. I knew that this would further strain relationships, especially my relationship to my former parish, and this would be a hard thing for me to face as one who still had strong affection for his former congregation. So, my initial reaction was one of concern.
My second reaction, which came only a few moments after the first, was to think strategically about how I would, at Bruton Parish, respond to the decision. I took some comfort in the fact that Bruton, like most large, mid-Atlantic parishes, would be a place where there would be a whole variety of reactions – some favorable, some unfavorable, most unsure – and that this was the healthiest kind of atmosphere one could hope for when facing a controversy. First, I knew that folks would need to talk, so I immediately scheduled two major meetings with the congregation on the first occasion possible. The plan I followed at those meetings was….
- To be clearly visible and accessible to the congregation.
- To try and clarify the facts of the decision of the Convention as best I could.
- To educate the congregation – where needed – about the role of the General Convention and its process.
- To accept and hear opinions from the membership, making sure that basic
courtesy rules were upheld.
- To share as succinctly and as clearly as I knew how, my own position on the matter. I believed that people wanted and needed to know what I thought about the decision.
In regard to my own position, I shared the following with my congregation.
- I stated my absolute commitment to the belief that all who are baptized are beloved children of God and full and equal members of the Body of Christ regardless of their race, gender or sexual preference.
- I shared that after much prayer and reflection and study of scripture, I was personally comfortable with the idea of a homosexual person becoming a Bishop in the Episcopal Church, that, in my mind, as long as he was deemed by the people of New Hampshire (and General Convention) to be worthy of the office, nothing about homosexuality alone precluded him from exercising spiritual leadership. I also did an overview of the issue of homosexuality as found in scripture.
- I explained that I did believe the General Convention had gotten the “cart before the horse” and shared my concern over the fact that, as an active gay man, Gene Robinson was in a relationship which was theologically undefined by the Church.
- I shared my observation that while I was proud to see the Church move forward on the issue of sexuality, I was concerned that the legislative nature of General Convention had created a situation of “winners and losers” around a complicated theological issue, thus adding further strain to relationships.
In the time between the 74th and 75th Conventions I made an effort to have many personal, pastoral discussions with concerned members of the congregation. I also directed parish classes on the Windsor Report and participated in a Lenten video series dedicated to growing issues in the Anglican Communion.
In regard to the decisions of 75th General Convention, specifically, issues around strains in the Communion, I found it unnecessary to hold many parish discussions. This was due, in large part, to our fairly thorough discussion of the matters at hand preceding the 75th . I did publically reiterate to the congregation my support of the decision of Convention to call upon dioceses to exercise restraint by not consenting to the consecration of bishops whose manner of life might strain the Communion further. I also shared my excitement over the news that Katharine Jefferts Schori was our new presiding bishop. I told the membership that, given the male-dominated nature of the House of Bishops, Katharine must indeed be a woman with exceptional gifts and that I looked forward to her leadership.
During the winter of 2006, I hosted The Rt. Rev. Bruce Cameron as the parish resident scholar. Bishop Cameron held classes on issues in the Communion. He returns to my parish this winter to do an even broader series on the topic.
Question: As a bishop, how would you respond to the controversies of the church today?
Answer: TEC’s relationship with the greater Anglican Communion and the recent decision of the General Convention to call upon standing committees and bishops to exercise restraint.
I believe the decision was prudent and would voice my personal conviction that TEC’s relationship with the Anglican Communion is a crucial one and worth preserving and protecting. While I do believe the Episcopal Church has chosen correctly to step forward in faith and receive all people into all aspects of its ministry, I also value the interdependent nature of being in the Communion. In order to avoid becoming insular, we must remain accountable to Anglicans outside of TEC. This, in turn, means that others must also be accountable to us in matters of justice and the practice of faith. Only with this kind of dynamic tension can we nurture one another’s interdependence and be challenged to become more Christ-like.
The issue of blessing same-sex unions:
Taking into account my statement above, I do believe that we must find some way to sensibly address this very sensitive and controversial matter. The consecration of the Bishop of New Hampshire has placed the issue of same-sex relationships before us, and the Church must, in time, find healthy ways to respond. As a bishop in TEC, I would encourage informed theological discussion around the matter and caution the use of trial liturgies until a greater consensus has been established. What we must not do is use the legislative process to push through a position that has not been fully discussed throughout the church. I would strongly support the development of flexible and theologically broad-based national curricula that would assist clergy and lay leaders in presenting the issue – for discussion – on the diocesan and/or parish level. Reasonable debate in an effort to gain theological clarity is needed before further legislative action is taken.
The issue of human sexuality:
Overall, I am of the opinion that the Church has spent far too much of its time and energy struggling with issues around human sexuality and “pure” doctrine and that this has been to the detriment of other critical issues like church growth and, even more importantly, addressing human suffering throughout the world. I am of the opinion that the constant struggle with the issue of sex has produced neither the great prophetic victories nor the terrible moral defeats that some would claim. But, it has certainly, and to a great degree, distracted us. As a bishop, I would encourage the Church to move on to more important matters, like for instance, pursing our Millennium Development Goals.