HOOD RIVER — As a young lawyer, Vicky Stifter went to El Salvador in the mid-1980s to work with a human rights organization in the midst of war.
“Because of my privilege, I was a protective presence for the Salvadoran human rights workers,” she said. “But it was dangerous. Lots of soldiers with machine guns.”
You’ll have to forgive her for not learning her lesson. After a career in law and nonprofit management, she went on to earn a divinity degree, became a minister, and in 2006, waded into another kind of dangerous job: pastor of Riverside Community Church in Hood River.
She was in her early 40s, fresh out of Seattle University’s Institute for Ecumenical Theological Studies, and had never pastored a church.
She was stepping into ministry in a historic downtown church where families boasted several generations of membership, in a denomination — the United Church of Christ (UCC) — that was losing members year after year. The church building, close to 100 years old, was in desperate need of repairs, and money was in short supply.
As she retires on April 30 after 19 years of ministry here, she reflects on how she met this moment, and how Riverside has grown and changed during her tenure.
In the beginning
When Rev. Stifter arrived here with her then husband, John Boonstra, also a UCC minister, and their daughters Charley, 8, and Everley, 18 months, she walked into her empty office and hardly knew where to start. She spent “a good chunk” of her first year connecting, getting to know church members and the community. She made appointments to meet “all the guys” who pastored at the other churches in town. She’d never lived in a small town before, and recounts with a belly laugh the family’s surprise at their first downtown Christmas parade 20 years ago: sparsely attended and three blocks long.
Riverside Church, at the time, was “old money, conservative on one side of the aisle, and more progressive on the other. And this felt perfect, because I wanted to be in a place where not everybody looked the same or voted the same,” she said.
The church’s ideological diversity, though, meant that at times, the congregation simply avoided controversial issues. In 2012, Seattle UCC retired minister and church consultant, Rev. Tony Robinson, conducted an assessment of Riverside.
“In his assessment, he said we were trying to be everything to everyone, avoiding conflict and trying to keep everyone comfortable. We hadn’t found the role that was uniquely ours to play,” she said.
Changes made
But that was about to change. In 2013, the church voted to become an Open and Affirming congregation, meaning they would openly welcome LGBTQ+ folk.
“That was a monumental turning point,” Stifter said. “We were afraid people would leave, that there would be conflict. They did; there was. But we determined that following Jesus was more important than the comfort of any one person. We said more clearly, ‘This is who we are, this is what we stand for.’ We needed to be bold, to follow the counter-cultural, extravagant ways of Jesus.”
When they adopted the resolution, Stifter says, the church started to change.
“We became less fearful about taking stands,” she said. “The church began to attract more people. Guided by the Spirit, we became much stronger, both internally and externally. Families came. We no longer looked like a lot of churches with only gray hair in the pews, thinking about how to keep ourselves afloat.”
The people who showed up “were seekers, looking for a place for spiritual exploration, and a chance to make a meaningful difference in the world,” she said. “There are not many here now who are spectators.”
For Stifter, the bold move in 2013 complimented her own strengths, her willingness — forged in her years working on immigrant rights — to take unpopular positions. From that point onward, the church practiced what Stifter describes as front porch ministry: “We asked, ‘what is church?’ It expanded our understanding. It’s well beyond the people sitting in the pews on Sunday. We asked, ‘How do we bring ourselves into community, walk in solidarity with others?’”
Stifter is quick to add that the church was not looking for ways to increase attendance. “The minute you start asking, ‘How do we get more people in the pews?’ you’ve lost your way. The right question is, ‘How can we be faithful followers of Jesus in this time and place?’ And then, do that!” she said. “There will be conflicts, but there will also be extraordinary gifts and joys. Jesus started with 12 people. Jesus said, ‘I’m here to bring good news to the poor.’ Other people are hungry, and want to be a part of something that is life-giving, Spirit-led.”
Stifter lists other actions the church took:
“One of the boldest things we did was Fresh Start,” she says of a culinary training program based in the church’s kitchen. “It was not as long-lived as we had hoped, but it showed us what we could accomplish. And then there’s the free Community Thanksgiving dinner, 10 years old now, that serves a beautifully diverse array of Gorge neighbors.”
Stifter, who has hiked hundreds of miles of the Pacific Crest Trail, and feels a strong affinity for nature, talked about Riverside’s “Church of the Wild,” bringing worship services into wild places: “It’s a way to connect with God that is more accessible to some, and encourages us to find our place in the whole of creation.”
She created “Circles of Solace,” a series that brings together people experiencing grief, and helps them find a way through.
In 2016, the church also voted to divest from their investments in fossil fuels, seek out socially responsible investments instead, and practice a reduction in the use of fossil fuels. The historic building has solar panels across the roof.
In 2024, the church launched an $800,000 capital campaign to reinvigorate the old building, “our ministry partner,” as Stifter calls it. The successful campaign ensures that the building will continue to serve the church and the many community groups that use it regularly.
Over the years, Riverside has initiated vigils for racial and environmental justice, near the church at State and Second streets. Recently, the church and Stifter reached the one-year mark of standing each Friday against genocide and war in Gaza.
Stifter and Riverside had a significant presence in the expansion of FISH food bank and the creation of the warming shelter. Stifter was on the board of Gorge Ecumenical Ministries at the time that the tiny, inadequate food bank was in an old church on the heights. She urged the board to think big, and helped lead the planning process that led to the new FISH building and staff. Riverside also housed the warming shelter for several seasons as the organization struggled to find a permanent location.
Stifter says having the shelter at Riverside, right outside her office door, brought her and the congregation in contact on a daily basis with people they wouldn’t have met. Riversiders were cooking for, and sleeping in shifts with, the residents. She remembers one group of young men who would sit outside on the church’s front lawn on State Street, just outside her office window, and smoke.
“I had to ask them,” she says with a laugh, “’Hey, you know, probably not a good idea to smoke that out here, and my office is really starting to smell like pot!’”
In 2017, the church voted to become an Immigrant Welcoming Congregation. In 2022, as the 80th anniversary of the forced deportation of more than 400 Japanese residents drew close, Riverside looked through the historical record and could not find any evidence that they stood up for their Japanese neighbors, nor welcomed them home after the war. In a ceremony at Riverside, the church declared publicly that as a recognition of the harm their silence caused, they would “vow to never again stay silent in the face of oppression,” she said.
Somos Inmigrantes
The last two years have provided a powerful opportunity to test that resolve, with the Gorge’s 30% Latino population at risk of arrest and deportation by ICE. Stifter led the launch of the Somos Inmigrantes / We are Immigrants campaign and signs around the Gorge. The campaign is designed to show solidarity and prepare the church for a time when more action may be needed.
“All these things have strengthened our prophetic voice,” she said.
What she will take away as she retires is her belief in Riverside’s ability to continue to thrive and grow.
“The extraordinary thing about this community of faith is its ability to care for folks. If you want to be a part of this community, you will be surrounded in love,” she said.
She has heartbreaks, too. “The thing that hurts my heart the most is that no matter what we do and say, sometimes people do not see their own worth,” she said. “Those are the most painful moments. A good number of people have passed through, and passed on, and we have not reached them.”
After April 30, Stifter will take some time to hike, travel, and reflect.
“I’m leaving full-time ministry and pastoring behind, but I still see myself in ministry,” she said. “We are all in ministry, whether we claim the title or not. It’s part of our UCC faith tradition: the ministry of all believers. I don’t know what that will look like for me yet, but I believe God will still use me, probably in some surprising ways. I’m still not sure what I want to be when I grow up.”
Riverside will welcome an interim minister soon, and will begin the search for a permanent pastor in the coming months.
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