To outsiders, the Lutheran church often seems like a curious mix of Catholic grandeur and Presbyterian restraint: a Protestant confession that never quite shed its Catholic soul. We imagine it as a place of quiet order, deep tradition, and doctrinal certainty where iconography is as prevalent as the rules.
I had no idea how much my life would change when I was hired for a simple desk job at Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, nor how much I would come to see behind the curtain of one of the most intricate and hierarchical religious cultures I have ever encountered. From that vantage point, and through the lens of my affair with Erik Herrmann, I saw a culture shaped by centuries of conviction and control. Here, fierce conservatism stands side by side with surprising liberalism; loyalty and exclusion are woven into a system that is both beautiful and bewildering.
Note: The remainder of this post explores not only my personal story but the resistance I’ve faced in seeking accountability, and what it has revealed to me about how the Lutheran “machine” works behind the scenes and who is watching, both inside and outside the organization. Paid subscribers can read the full account.