“The boy is more important than the rule.”
The prophetic witness of Clarence “Clari” Kinzler (1935-2023)
By Rev. Michael J. Christensen, Ph.D.1
I visited my mentor and friend, Clari Kinzler, a week before he died on October 15, 2023.
Knowing his heart was weak, I asked him about his health. He didn’t want to talk about his
health. He wanted to talk about his church. His heart was burdened about the future of the
Church of the Nazarene, and he wanted to do something. Call the General Superintendents?
Write a bunch of letters? Tell his story of the challenges back when he was a District
Superintendent? He wanted to strategize with me as we used to do, for such a time as this…
His wife Sue poured us a glass of cold water…
Beyond strategizing with my friend, I had the chance to tell Clari what he had meant to me over
the years. I thanked him for his years of pastoral mentoring, for co-officiating at Rebecca's and my wedding, for loaning us his cabin in McCall for week heavy discernment and decision-making, for being at my father’s beside a day or two before he passed.
Clari told me revealing stories, some of which I had heard before. Like the time in college when
he got in trouble for breaking a campus rule. Instead of expelling him, the College President
offered grace: “The boy is more important than the rule.”
Clari’s father died when the boy was only five. Growing up in Nampa, Clari became an athlete
and felt a call to the ministry. He went to seminary in KC to learn how to preach and pastor a
local church. He was better at basketball than most, but not as good a preacher as others, and
he didn’t fit the norm. Discouraged, he needed some fatherly advice. Maybe he wasn’t called to
be a pastor?
The President of NTS at the time was the same Dr. D.T. Corlett (1952-1966)—formerly
president of NNU—who Clari knew and respected growing up. When he heard that Clari was
considering dropping out, Dr. Corlett came to visit him: “Son, take courage. You have gifts and
graces. You are called and chosen… I don’t want you to drop out; I want you to be who you are in Christ.”
Greatly encouraged, Clari persevered, graduated, became the founding pastor of the Shawnee
(KS) Mission Church of the Nazarene. He preached grace and gratitude as pastor of Arlington
Avenue Church of the Nazarene in Riverside, CA, and then as Senior Pastor of Nampa (ID)
College Church. In 1984 he became District Superintendent of the Northern California District
where he served for 17 years. He served on the Board of Regents at NNU while pastoring
College Church and on the Board of Trustees for PLNU while serving in Northern California. In
1992, Point Loma Nazarene University conferred on him the honorary degree, Doctor of
Divinity.
In retirement, Clari served various interim roles including Senior Pastor of San Diego First
Church of the Nazarene, President of the Nazarene Strengths Institute, District Superintendent of the Northwest Oklahoma District, and pastor of the McCall (ID) Church of the Nazarene. In 2009, Clari was honored as the first recipient of NNU’s Wesley Order of Servant Leader’s award.
Golden Gate Community and the Oak Street House
As the founding Pastor/Director of Golden Gate Community (an Urban Mission of the Church of
the Nazarene) in the Haight Ashbury neighborhood of SF, Clari Kinzler was my District
Superintendent. I was "one of his boys”, as he used to call us, “one of his guys/girls in the inner
city.”
Young and brash at 30, I remember trying to ‘splain to my new DS (straight outta Nampa) that
there was a difference between a local church and a mission center.
Quoting Robert Schuller: “A mission center for JC puts the needs of the unsaved a notch or two above the needs of the saved.”
“That’s why Golden Gate Community only has 30 church members,” I tried to explain, “but we
have over 1,000 registered community members on our responsibility list—poor, homeless,
addicted, mentally ill, door people, van people, street people—all who visit our Oak Street
House for coffee and bagels, hospitality and social services every week or month.”
Clari challenged me: “So, Michael, can you do both? Grow the church and direct the mission?
That would be a Win/Win.” (Clari liked to use sports metaphors when strategizing about the
church in the city). “Both may not be possible,” I said, “but we’ll try.”
To draw a distinction: A mission center can accept and include folks who don’t look like, talk
like, dress like, think like, or act like most church people. A local Nazarene church is expected to
uphold certain standards of belief and practice and require adherence to be a member. Putting the needs of the unsaved a notch or two above the needs of the saved, a mission station for Jesus Christ can love, accept, forgive, bless, and include people just as they are—each of us
uniquely on a spiritual journey, in the process of becoming all that God’s wants us to be.
Clari appreciated the distinction between a local church and an urban mission. He looked at the
cigarette butts on the front porch of the Oak Street House and the empty bottles on the street.
And he said: “When I come back, I want to see this place packed with all kinds of people … and
if I don’t see cigarette butts and bottles outside the church doors… then I’ll know that you’re not
doing your job!”
That’s all I needed to hear to trust my District Superintendent. He was not going to make us
require more to join our church than Jesus required to join his. The gospel of love, acceptance,
and forgiveness—with a commitment to become all that God wants us to be—would be enough.
And meeting people’s basic needs for food, clothing, and shelter—in Jesus’s name—could be
our priority. Clari had a broad view of the Church’s mission in the world, and an expansive
vision for cross-cultural ministry in the cities.
AIDS in the City
When HIV/AIDS plagued the city of SF in the 1980s, Clari was with us on the front lines of the
crisis. Though controversial, he supported Golden Gate Community’s ministry to people with
AIDS, as well as our ministry in the gay community in SF.
I preached a gospel of radical grace and inclusive love for all God’s children. Some local pastors
and denominational leaders objected to my “soft and liberal” theology and practice and called
for church discipline. The General Superintendent in jurisdiction required me to change my
view of homosexuality to conform to the statement in the Nazarene Manual. But Clari protected
me, interpreted me to others, loved, affirmed, and even joined me at times in calling for changes
in church polity.
Rather than bringing me up on charges, asking me to file my credentials, or withdraw church support, my District Superintendent was a pastors’ pastor. Even when I knew I had to leave the church of my birth, and join the Methodists, he kept me “dually aligned” for as long as he could…and blessed me on my way. Clari followed the example of John Wesley who said to those with whom he disagreed: “If your heart is right, as my heart is right, then give me your hand.”
That’s how he saw his job as District Pastor. Extend the right hand of fellowship. Protect the
shepherds. Guide the sheep. When they’re hurt, lift them up. If they’re wrong, gently admonish.
“In essentials, unity. In non-essentials, liberty. In all things charity.”
Strategically, Clari preferred working behind the scenes, indirectly dealing with a problem. He
tended to talk around the edges of a conflict or controversial issue rather than shinning a direct
spotlight on it. He wanted to avoid an 'end-run' and get a 'win/win' if at all possible.
I remember once--after I had preached and written something too controversial for the
church—he wanted me to tone it down. He took me to lunch and wrote down a win/win
strategy on a table napkin. He drew four boxes in a quadrant and suggested:
- Box #1 is stuff you can preach, teach, publish for all to hear, come what may.
- Box #2 is hard stuff to share with just the people who have your best interests in mind—your friends and family and close community.
- Box #3 is your private beliefs and doubts best kept to yourself.
- And Box 4 is stuff you might want to re-think and re-consider. Before speaking or writing something, ask what box of the quadrant it belongs in.
He used other sports metaphors on me to change my course of action or to tone down the
rhetoric. “Let the game come to you,” he often said. “Don’t go out of your way to stir things up…
or call too much attention to yourself. If you let the game come to you, then you can act and say
what you gotta say. At the right time and the right way.”
The Game Came to Clari
The time came for Clari to say the right thing at the right time and in the right way--clearly and
directly to his church. Over time he had earned the respect of Nazarene General Superintendents and church theologians. In 1992, they invited him to give a keynote address to the Eight Theology Conference for the USA/Canada Church of the Nazarene in Kansas City. The game had come to him.
His paper on “Articulating and Living Christian Holiness in a Pluralistic World” asked hard
questions: Who is my enemy? Who is my neighbor? Who is the one I so often exclude? The
Mormon family in Nampa? The gay son in San Francisco? Those living and dying with AIDS?
He applied the Nazarene doctrine of Holiness to how we actually treat people who are outsiders,
who have different beliefs and practices and identities than what we consider acceptable.
For example, in his paper Clari shared the moment when his attitude toward homosexuals in
the church began to change. It was at an AIDS Healing and Communion Service at a gay church
in San Franscisco on Thanksgiving Sunday. Led by two seminarians--Jim Mutulski, pastor of Metropolitan Community Church (the gay church in town) and my wife Rebecca Laird (seeking ordination in the Church of the Nazarene). Together, they stood at the front of the sanctuary to welcome--whosoever will-- come to the altar for communion and healing. And Clari and Sue were there!
Here's how Clari described it 30+ years ago in his 1992 address to the leaders and theologians
of the Church of the Nazarene:
“Crazy wild kids! [Michael and Rebecca Laird Christensen]. They invited me to go along with
them [to the gay church]. Sure, sure: we’ll all lose our credentials together! I didn’t answer
them for several weeks. But, more or less kicking and screaming, I decided to join them. My
wife, Sue, felt that she would like to go also.
“We entered the church early and sat near the front. The sanctuary that seated several hundred
became packed with people from the gay and lesbian community. The song service was led by a
tremendous musician who had the congregation singing with great exuberance. They told me
60% of the congregation had AIDS. I looked around. Here were same-sex married couples who
had been together for many years. There were the young 18–24-year-olds who were in the gay
or lesbian lifestyle… I asked the Lord why I was there. The still small voice of Jesus answered:
‘If I were in bodily form in San Francisco tonight, I would be exactly where you are.’ “
And then something dramatic, unexpected, and life-changing occurred at the gay church:
“They introduced the Golden Gate team, and then asked the District Superintendent of the
Northern California Church of the Nazarene to please stand. When Sue and I stood, the crowd
went crazy. They clapped and clapped until they clapped me to tears. They knew where the
Church of the Nazarene stood on their practice of homosexuality, but that someone would value
them as human beings and step across the dividing walls, was hope to them…
My heart was broken as I saw young men, mere boys, jamming the middle isle, waiting for someone to pray for them a prayer for healing.” [And as I remember, some of them fell into the arms of Sue and Rebecca who stood there with communion elements to welcomed them home.]
“I’m not sure that everyone would agree that we belong in the gay-lesbian arena, Clari said,
“but, if we are strong enough to trust the validity of our experience with God, we really have no
choice but to be there with our powerful [Wesleyan] model of ‘wholeness.’
“It’s not easy, but we in leadership must give permission and blessing to these bright young
people who have been raised in our parsonages and in our homes…
Please, dear holiness church that I love: let’s not let our negative sectors dePine our mission and set our perimeters…”
And Clari concluded his talk by saying that some of the people the church excludes are not just
our neighbors but our own sons and daughters.
My Last Visit with Clari at Grace Assisted Care
Clari reminded me of this transformative event in his life when I visited him at Grace Assisted
Care just a week before he died. Clearly, the opportunity to address the theologians and leaders
of his church and tell this story was one of the highlights of his life and ministry.
“After I read my paper and delivered my soul,” he told me, “there was a long, long silence.
Nobody said a word. I wondered if I had crossed a line...
Then, Finally, from the back of the room, Nazarene Seminary Professor Kenneth Grider gave a shout: ‘Yeah! THAT’S MY BOY!’ And then the room warmed up, and they applauded what I had to say.”
Whether Dr. Grider was thinking of his own son, who was gay; or thought that Clari was like a
son to him, who can say? But Clari’s message were as clear as day: Love the excluded other as if they were your own son or daughter.
By standing up and showing courage, supporting urban ministries of compassion, advocating
for people with AIDS, withholding moral judgement in favor of acceptance, and speaking the
truth in love… even if your voice shakes…you're doing the right thing.
By doing the right thing in a difficult and ambiguous situation, Clarence Kinzler, I predict, will have a powerful prophetic influence on the Church of the Nazarene.
My elder by 20 years, he mentored me like a son or daughter. But what I want to say today about Clari is what Dr. Grider said of him back in the day: “Yeah! That’s my boy!” He’s my
man. My beloved mentor and friend.
And I’m also grateful that Clari’s mentor back in the day didn’t expel him from college after he
broke a campus rule. But instead, channeled grace: “The boy is more important than the rule.”
May the Church of the Nazarene live up to the values of its prophetic leaders.
Clarence Kinzler chose to be buried in the same grave plot as his father. May
you rest in peace, beloved Clari. And with your father, rise in glory!
1 Tribute delivered at funeral service of Clarence Kinzler, Nampa College Church of the Nazarene, November 3, 2023
2 Former President of NNU Dr. D. T. Corlett’s maxim.
In my doctoral dissertation of 1997, I studied apocalyptic interpretations of the Chernobyl Disaster of April 26, 1986, popularly interpreted in the Soviet Union at time as the “Wormwood Star” of Revelation 7:11 as signaling the end of an era, sickness, and death of a generation of children, and the collapse of the old Soviet Union. (“The Chernobyl Apocalypse”, 1996).
In my book, Children of Chernobyl, we tell a tragic yet inspiring story of how young people in Belarus, exposed to Chernobyl radiation as children, are coping as adults in post-Soviet Belarus. And why they still view the Wormwood Star apocalyptically (Children of Chernobyl: Raising Hope from the Ashes, 1997). 
