'Vilest of Sinners' Takes on Rare, Two-Point Urban Ministry

By Rachel Pritchett
TACOMA
He's got tattoos head to toe, wears a Harley thrill-ride T-shirt and any smile he can muster is a deep grimace at best.
With an appearance rare for a pastor, the Rev. Randy Haas, 61, of the Southwestern Washington Synod has just taken on an even rarer, two-point urban ministry at Salishan Lutheran Eastside Mission and Hope Lutheran Church, where he just might fit in. Financial woes are bringing the two churches together.
"What this is is rural ministry in the inner city," Haas said during a visit in his modest rental where his Harley Street Glide is parked outside.
But with a twist.
In rural two-point ministries, he explained, you deal with long distances and with established churches with strong self-identities. Salishan and Hope, both in the heart of Tacoma, must redefine themselves.
Salishan, just 25 years old, is in a poor, crime-infested section of the city, where some members show up for worship high, and others are burdened with criminal pasts, joblessness and poverty.
"We have this core of broken people who come to this church," Haas said, adding "we all are broken sinners."
For many years until he retired, Salishan was led by the Rev. Ron Vignec, who became famous for helping to dig this part of Tacoma out from the depths of gang control and violence. The church has suffered since he left.
"I can't be Ron," Haas said.
That is fine with the people of Salishan, looking for somebody who doesn't fit the mold to bless them with a new beginning, on their terms.
Haas, broken himself, seemed to fit.
Doing two tours of Vietnam in the '60s when was he was no more than a boy, he wasn't even old enough to enjoy a beer on the plane ride back to the States.
What followed was a young man's life full of pain, sadness, broken relationships and loneliness.
"I am the vilest of sinners," Haas said. The sinner later went to Luther Seminary to become a pastor.
Hope, just a few miles away, is an old inner-city church that has lost members over the years to the suburbs and is struggling to survive. It has been exploring a sister relationship with Salishan.
Despite their different roots, the two congregations get along "amazingly well," he said. He was installed at a combined Salishan and Hope service at Hope on Oct. 10 by Bishop Robert D. Hofstad, who ordained him in 2006.
While Salishan and Hope are looking to Haas for direction, he instead is holding the mirror up to them. It is a bold challenge on his part for them to use undiscovered talents to build a future together.
"Most people are filled with wonderful gifts, wonderful talents. They just don't know it," he said.
Haas was encouraged when both recently enjoyed a performance of hard-core Christian rock band Convicted, made up of some former prison inmates.
"We had kids dancing in the aisles with their moms. Everyone was moving to the music. There was the spirit of the Lord in that sanctuary that morning," Haas said.
"It proved to me that they're open to new ideas."
Peel away the rough exterior of Randy Haas and you discover a man utterly and completely devoted to God. His tattoos that span three decades are of God and the Bible.
Now also Haas is committed to his two fledgling congregations.
"I will do my best to try to link the DNA of these two churches," said Haas, with what passes for a smile. "That's all I can do."