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New co-pastors settle into life at Calvary Baptist
Former S.C. residents are partners in life and ministry
Revs. Sally Sarratt and Maria Swearingen say their pastoral strengths complement each other nicely. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)
As a child, Rev. Maria Swearingen felt a connection to the sacraments of the church in a way that was, looking back, perhaps unusual.
Helping her grandfather fill communion trays with crackers and grape juice on Saturday afternoons and seeing the table set on Sunday mornings knowing she’d had a hand in it, made her feel “overcome with just this profound sense of joy, that I participated in the setting of the table,” she says.
Those are skills she and her wife, Rev. Sally Sarratt will put to good use as co-senior pastors of Calvary Baptist Church in Chinatown. Their first Sunday was Feb. 26, so they’re still getting used to their new roles, their first joint pastorate.
Sarratt was previously a hospital chaplain and was filling in for a minister on sabbatical at Greenville Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Greenville, S.C. Swearingen was associate university chaplain at Furman University and spent the last year working with a cohort of clergy to develop a year-long training program for religious leaders focused on dismantling white supremacy and racism.
The couple, together since late 2009 (they’d met the previous year at church), weren’t necessarily looking for a co-pastorate but it was something they’d dreamed and talked about. Calvary’s last pastor, Rev. Amy Butler, left in 2014 to become senior pastor at New York’s famed Riverside Church, one of the few progressive non-denominational churches in the country. Rev. Allyson Robinson, who’s transgender, was interim minister. Sarratt and Swearingen say their sexual orientation (they both identify as lesbians) was a non-issue.
“The fact that we happened to be a same-sex couple wasn’t even part of their conversation,” Sarratt says. “Calvary had already kind of done the work to say, ‘Look, we’re welcoming and affirming,’ … so it really wasn’t an issue for the (search) committee.”
The job ad said the church was open to considering a co-pastorate. They both work at the church full time and say their gifts and strengths are different enough as to be complementary, although they share preaching duties. Mostly either one or the other will deliver the sermon, but they are experimenting with co-sermonizing, an idea they’re toying with for Easter Sunday.
“As we met and talked with Sally and Maria about their vision for pastoral leadership … we were struck by their deep faith and commitment to being part of a gospel community,” says Carol Blythe, chair of the search committee. “We were impressed by how their gifts, talents and experience matched our ministry priorities and we’re thrilled about their upcoming pastorate and the versatility the co-pastor model will provide our congregation.”
Sarratt says the compensation package the church offered them “is very fair.”
So is it unusual for a Baptist church to be so open-minded? Not really. Calvary is part of the American Baptist Churches USA movement, which has about 1.3 million members in about 5,000 congregations. There are 42 million Baptists around the world that trace their tradition to the early 17th century. Calvary has no ties to the Southern Baptist Convention, the largest Protestant group in the United States with about 15 million members and a much more conservative, anti-gay agency.
Sarratt and Swearingen grew up in more conservative strains of the denomination and though they each attended Methodist seminaries, they have strong Baptist roots. Swearingen remembers some “fire and brimstone” preaching in her youth but says her theology has evolved.
Swearingen says to her, being Baptist means valuing separation of church and state, religious liberty and belief in the priesthood of all believers.
“That’s kind of the gift of what Baptist life can be, that’s what the word can hold,” she says. “For quite some time, it hasn’t looked that way in lots of spaces that call themselves Baptist, but I’m all about being invested in reclaiming that word.”
Looking back, though, she says she’s amazed that even in the theology of her youth, progressive beliefs managed to seep in.
“What I think is so uncanny and persnickety about the way the gospel can work is … the overturning and upturning of unjust, un-mutual systems of power, these things would still find their way into the cracks and crevices,” she says. “The goodness of faith life and practices was findings its way to me even amidst really problematic and damaging theology and it’s really what we, ministry wise, are invested in as much as anything. How do we unearth and let go of and heal from all kinds of theological language that really has just been a perpetuation of oppression and really find freedom and release from that so we can use and live inside language that actually invites wholeness?”
It’s a recurring theme in her ministerial philosophies and similar strains pop up when asked about the future of the mainline church, trends in church attendance among Millennials and even what lessons the Easter message has for today.
Sarratt says for her, getting to that place has been a process. She speaks of “digging and deconstructing and reconstructing” various theology over time.
“One of the things I worry about and feel sad about is the fact that in many ways, queer people still think, ‘I either choose my faith or I choose who I am,’” Sarratt says. “The integration and wedding of the two and either one being able to bless the fullness of who you are is still kind of a rare thing.”
Neither Sarratt nor Swearingen were out when they met in the summer of 2008. Both planning to pursue full-time ministry and didn’t see any way to be out, especially in the Bible Belt, while being pastors.
“Mariah was headed back to school in Durham and it was one of those things like, ‘Well, that was great, but I’m feeling called to ministry so this can’t happen, it can’t be,’” Sarratt says.
But their connection — Swearingen says, “You know, love — yada, yada” — was persistent.
“By the fall of 2009 we were kind of like, ‘Yeah, this is so real and profound, how do we choose both of these paths?’ We didn’t know but we started saying, maybe it’s time to start walking in that direction … of trying to do ministry and family and life together,” Sarratt says.
Coming out, she says, was a “long, slow, cautious, careful process.”
Swearingen says it came down to the decision all out LGBT people eventually make. “Am I choosing to live embodied in my real self or in some constructed reality of me,” she says. “Freedom always comes when we keep pressing more into our authentic selves. … and it’s deep, difficult work of … really claiming and choosing one’s self.”
Sarratt calls it “being able to see one’s self as a beloved child of God.”
Eventually there were three marriages of sorts. They privately shared vows in 2011, had a commitment ceremony with family and friends in 2014 and made it legal as soon as they could the Tuesday before Thanksgiving in 2014 at a Greenville courthouse.
They say early signs at Calvary are positive. They’re spending the first several months meeting individually with staff, board members and parishioners. About a hundred worshippers attend on an average Sunday. Several other congregations and outside groups use the massive downtown facility throughout the week. The couple guesses about 20 percent of the congregation are LGBT.
Sarratt says her strengths are in business, systems thinking and spiritual formation. She says Swearingen, who’s bilingual, is much better at creative worship planning.
“Even if I invested all my time and energy into being a creative worship planner, I’d still only have maybe as much as she has in her pinky,” Sarratt says. “It’s just one of those things where you get to use your gifts without having to shore up those parts of the job you’re not as good at naturally.”
They say they’re mindful of falling into potential trouble areas — not making time for a life outside of church together or the possibility of getting swept up in church politics. Or even, perhaps more innocuously, finding some factions of the congregation favoring one over the other.
So what will success look like? And with society slowly shifting toward progress on LGBT and all kinds of issues, why are the big, downtown, progressive churches often struggling while the anti-gay evangelical churches continue to thrive?
“It’s hard to kind of treat the litmus test if you will as large swaths of people who can afford big buildings,” Swearingen says. “But if you’re imagining the work of justice building and peace building, those are movements that don’t always create a success that can be pointed to, which, quite simply, wouldn’t be what I’d call a goal I’d get excited about. It’s the work itself, the outcomes and the goals are different.”
She says looking at the work through that alternate lens creates a much different perspective on effective ministry.
“For me, the questions would be are the people who have understood themselves to be marginalized, dispossessed and oppressed, finding space to be whole? If the answer to that is yes, then we’re being the church, but if the answer is, ‘I’m not so sure, but look at this really cool building we just built,’ I struggle to call those outcomes fruitful church work.”
New Calvary pastors share favorites
Favorite hymn?
SWEARINGEN: “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” but especially Yvette Flunder’s version when she says, “Oh God my father and mother.” I love that.
SARRATT: Since we’re in Lent, I’m thinking more in those terms right now so I like some of the more reflecting ones like “Abide With Me” or “O Sacred Head Now Wounded.”
Favorite scripture?
SWEARINGEN: “Do not grow weary in doing good for at the proper time, you will reap a harvest if you do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9)
SARRATT: The sermon on the mount, especially the Beatitudes.
Favorite biblical figure?
SWEARINGEN: Ruth and Naomi.
SARRATT: Job. We need to reclaim the fullness of emotion and lament and not just sanitize everything. The older I get, the more I’ve found a deep and profound honesty in those places.
a&e features
The queer Asian comics building collective joy in D.C.
Spotlighting chaotic ways family, romance, identity take shape in their lives
Kevin Chen’s family tombstone has room for four: him, his parents and his boyfriend. The arrangement might prove to be a little awkward.
“My boyfriend is 100% white, and my parents are 100% disappointed,” Chen confessed.
Jokes about family traditions and the untraditional ways they’re practiced earned a burst of laughs at the bar where Chen was opening for the Pride Comedy Special. The D.C. stand-up event, produced by Comedy Bonfyre last month, spotlighted queer Asian comics who shared the chaotic ways family, romance and identity take shape in their lives.
From candid oral sex takes to top surgery hypotheticals like “Where do the boobs go?”, the night highlighted the loud camaraderie of the queer Asian experience — one that sounds like a cacophony of snorts, cackles and belly laughs. While the comics say they are not quite a community, there’s more than enough shared material to bring them together.
“It was such a magical experience. I loved performing in a queer API lineup. It feels so validating,” Chen said after the show. “I’m wondering, ‘Is this how white men feel all the time?’”
Each performance evoked queer Asian joy through a medium that could use more of its presence.
According to Chen, who is based in D.C., it’s hard to say whether there is a true queer Asian comedy presence in his city. There are only a scattered “handful” of Asian comics, and people of color are underrepresented in queer comic circles, he said.
When Tarunika Anand, a nonbinary lesbian comic, first entered the mainstream D.C. comedy scene, they mostly encountered straight white men, describing the experience as “a culture shock.”
“I feel like sometimes a lot of queer spaces are really white, and then a lot of Asian spaces are really straight,” Anand said. “I don’t feel like I fit into either.”
But feeling marginalized didn’t stop these comics from honing their craft and creating spaces for others like them. Alex Kim, who headlined the special and is based in Brooklyn, runs the queer Asian comedy group Boba Gays, which began on WhatsApp and has since made its way to Lincoln Center.
Every Wednesday, Anand co-produces a free comedy show called Funny Side Up. The queer-led group focuses on inclusivity and showcasing new talent.
“It’s really beautiful to speak about your experience and your existence in a way that’s uplifting,” Anand said.
Family is a major throughline of their comedic repertoires.
Chen, for instance, shared that he identifies with jokes about having Asian immigrant parents and the expectations they pass down.
“You see me, you know this part about me, you know this experience intimately, and I can see the truth that you’re trying to wrap a joke around,” he said. “That hits even harder because that’s my truth too. I think that’s what makes good comedy.”
Anand had the audience at the special howling when they explained that their parents’ be-more-like-them comparisons didn’t end when they came out. Instead, the expectations took on a new form.
“Now, my parents want me to be the best gay,” Anand said. “They’re like, ‘Do you know Ellen DeGeneres?’”
Kim said he’s been trying to unlearn things from his Christian Korean mom. Yet he described a moment when he was getting ready for the club and realized he looked just like his mother getting ready for church.
“I’ve been finding it hard to escape her,” Kim said.
Mutual recognition also radiates through the different ways queer love can take shape. From singlehood to death-do-us-part commitments, the comics cover just about every corner.
Anand is holding out hope for settling down with “a nice, pretty, Indian girl.” They recently went through a breakup and said they felt they dodged a bullet.
“As a person of color, I just don’t think I should be with a Swiftie,” they said.
Chen, touching on what it’s like to be in a queer interracial relationship, said that meeting his white boyfriend’s baby nephew for the first time felt like he was forced to participate in a diversity, equity and inclusion training.
“The dad was like, ‘Please welcome Kevin. Be curious about his culture, his history, his foods,’” Chen joked.
Laughter is not the only reward for the comics.
To Anand, comedy is a space where they can say whatever they want. “It gives me a voice,” they said.
Nik Narain, a North Carolina-based trans and nonbinary South Asian comic who performed at the special, said meeting older trans comedians and taking the stage helped him feel reassured in his identity during his transition.
“Stand-up was a really cool way to process that onstage,” he said. “[It] became a way for me to repackage my thoughts.”
Queer Asians are still figuring out their place in the greater D.C. comedy scene. The group is small in numbers and many are still working toward a full-time comedy career. But Narain feels he’s already made it.
Narain is reluctant to pin it all on one moment. He feels that success is already peeking through in milestones — opening for celebrities, traveling to performances and self-producing shows.
“As long as I can keep doing this, I’m super happy,” he said.
This story was produced as part of the AAJA VOICES fellowship program, a student journalism project of the Asian American Journalists Association (AAJA).
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Mr. Henry’s celebrates 60 years of proud inclusivity
Capitol Hill staple remains ‘a caring community’
America’s 250th isn’t the only milestone birthday D.C. is celebrating this year.
Beloved D.C. restaurant Mr. Henry’s, that Capitol Hill staple, celebrates its Diamond Jubilee all year long. Named for its original owner Henry Yaffe, the restaurant opened on a warm day 60 years ago in the summer of 1966 and has never looked back.
Yaffe took over what was then a country western restaurant, renovated the interior to his liking, and created an institution. Yet Yaffe had another goal. As a gay man, “he created Mr. Henry’s to be a place where everyone felt welcome — not easy in 1966 — and he succeeded,” says current owner Mary Quillian.
“Mr. Henry’s has long been a place the LGBTQ community has supported because they felt and still feel welcomed,” says Quillian. Even in the current administration, “the gay community and the diversity-minded community continue to come.”
Since then, Mr. Henry’s has changed hands, opened and closed its second floor, welcomed famed musical acts, and played host to politicians, date nights, breakups, and birthdays. But it still feels like home (and has a note in the National Trust for Historic Preservation) at 601 Pennsylvania Ave., S.E.
Its wood-paneled, Victorian-inspired art-filled décor in the downstairs dining room and bar serves American pub fare for lunch and dinner daily, with brunch on weekends (and a dog-friendly patio). Upstairs, Mr. Henry’s hosts live jazz performances and special events most nights, continuing a musical tradition that has defined the venue for decades. That upstairs bar has played host to names like Roberta Flack and Woody Allen.
Musician Kevin Cordt said that, “Mr. Henry’s has been a part of my life for more than 30 years. I started as a customer, then became a bartender and server, and now I have the good fortune to play trumpet at one of the best live music venues in Washington, D.C.”
Aaron Myers, executive director of the D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities, is also a supporter. “Not many cities can sport venues that have consistently served the community in the space of culture for more than 50 years, let alone can brag as the birthplace of culture defining talent.”
From the start, Yaffe promoted a rare yet celebrated combination of locals’ bar and soulful nightlife venue. Mr. Henry’s has attracted a diverse crowd at a time when such spaces were – and perhaps still are – uncommon, a diversity that is credited with helping protect the pub during the 1968 D.C. riots.
Longtime customer Evelyn Branic said, “Mr. Henry’s has been my ‘Cheers’ hangout since my wife and I moved to the Hill in 1987. I’ve experienced many iconic moments meeting politicians, reporters, civic activists, and neighbors engaging in spirited conversations. Whether political, LGBTQ, historians, neighbors, or out-of-towners, everyone could find a special place to be greeted as a friend.”
Its welcoming tables come dabbed with a bit of tea: In 1971, in a moment that has since become part of Capitol Hill lore, Yaffe lost the pub in a poker game to Larry Quillian. The Quillian family, recognizing the special role Mr. Henry’s played in the neighborhood, took over ownership, and committed to preserving its spirit. Today, Larry’s daughter Mary owns the bar, having given it a bit of a facelift for the bar’s 50th birthday, bringing in new tables and some fresh menu items.
For example, the menu has some of those dishes that regulars would riot if they disappeared. The Reuben and the hamburgers, the chili and in-house roasted turkey have never departed the menu. Dishes do evolve, says Quillen: they added wings about two decades ago.
In 2026, the restaurant is hosting monthly ticketed “decades” parties, celebrating each of the 10-year periods the restaurant’s been open, plus there were specials in June for Pride. The official 60th anniversary gala takes place Aug. 29, featuring performers, beverages, timeless favorite foods, swag – and the unveiling of a new cocktail.
Inclusive, eccentric, eclectic, Mr. Henry’s is looking forward to maintaining its centrality to diverse crowds in Capitol Hill. Battling inflation, rising menu prices, changing tastes, and thin margins, Quillian says that Mr. Henry’s has — and will always be — “a caring community for so many different folks. And THAT is why I am committed to keeping us going. Society needs places like Mr. Henry’s, now more than ever.”
a&e features
Television loses a legend, longtime ‘Will & Grace’ director James Burrows
Iconic hitmaker leaves behind a legacy of telling LGBTQ stories
You don’t have to be a pretentious film major to name 10 movie directors. But naming television directors is not that simple. They’re the unsung heroes of your favorite shows, and the late James Burrows was the television director. He passed on June 19, but his DNA runs through television history.
He directed over 1200 episodes of television and over 50 pilots. He co-created “Cheers” and directed many episodes of long-running series like “Friends,” “Taxi,” “Frasier,” “The Big Bang Theory,” and “Two and a Half Men.” You also may remember him from playing a heightened version of himself on the Lisa Kudrow comedy “The Comeback.”
He has left an indelible mark on the LGBTQ community. As recently as last year, he directed the series run of “Mid-Century Modern” starring Nathan Lane, Matt Bomer, and Linda Lavin. He was also a longtime director of “Will & Grace” and directed every episode of the series revival. He even directed the unaired “Absolutely Fabulous” pilot with Kathryn Hahn, Kristen Johnston, and Zosia Mamet.
Not to mention he’s worked with queer icons throughout history, including Betty White and Stockard Channing on their single-season series, and Jennifer Coolidge in “2 Broke Girls.”
He started his career on shows like “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” “Rhoda,” “Laverne & Shirley,” and the first four seasons of “Taxi.”
He continued to work steadily and directed successful pilots that went to series for “Roc,” “3rd Rock From the Sun,” “Dharma & Greg,” and “Wings.” He directed multiple episodes of “Friends,” “Caroline in the City,” and “Frasier.”
This magic continued into the 2000s with him directing the pilots for “Two and a Half Men,” “The Big Bang Theory,” and multiple episodes of “Mike & Molly,” and the entire return series of “Will & Grace.”
What was the secret to his success? He’d enact the “fun clause” in his contract. In his words, “Life is too short to deal with obnoxious leads,” he shared. “So as long as the writing is good and the cast is fun, I’m going to enjoy the experience.”
He had the magic touch, having multiple pilots turned into long-running series. He was nominated for an Emmy 24 times in 26 years and worked consistently until a year before his death.
The secret was the way he brought the cast together. He describes, “it was my job to mold them into an ensemble, and they did round into a group of people who loved each other.”
This earned him 11 Emmy Awards and five Directors Guild of America Awards, including being awarded the inaugural DGA’s Lifetime Achievement Award for Television Direction.
In a 2003 interview by the Television Academy, he was asked how he wants to be remembered, and he said, “That every night forever you can tune in somewhere, and there’ll be a show I did.”
He’s survived by his wife, Debbie, four daughters, seven grandchildren, and the countless people whose careers he launched and the countless viewers he inspired with his television legacy.
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