#30days30posts

Oh boy! A fun one to start 30 days of posting!

Yes. I am very familiar with the Bible. I have read it a couple of times cover to cover and sections of it countless other times. I have parts of it memorized.  I have studied the Bible both for private devotion and for school for years. I have a Master of Divinity from one of the best theological seminaries in the world. So yes. Familiar is an understatement.

And it is precisely that familiarity that leads me to advocate for transgender inclusion in the church. Because I see in Scripture an entire arc of justice; from the beginning of Genesis to the end of Revelation I see a movement of God toward inclusion, toward justice, and toward equity. It’s not just in the story of Jesus (though it’s maybe most blunt there), it is throughout both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures.

And I see a particular thread of inclusion for transgender people: from eunuchs being the salvation of Esther, to them being assured of their inclusion in Isaiah, to one of the first Christian converts being the Ethiopian Eunuch in the book of Acts. 

I have prayed for enlightenment and I found it in the acceptance of myself and in the demand of God to work for justice for all people in the church. 

But I worry about the other people they come for. The youth who are still living at home with unaffirming families. The ones who hear those hateful messages week after week in their churches. 

And make no mistake about it, these messages are hateful. They are theological hate speech and the people who continue to preach and teach them have blood on their hands. 

So if you’re a straight/cis person, when you see me post about another hateful message I’ve received, I don’t want you to say that you’re sorry it happens, or try to comfort me, or tell me that I’m doing good work. I want you to get your straight/cisgender folks in order. I want you to call them out. I want you to tell them that hate speech is unacceptable. I want you to confront them. I want you to leave your evangelical churches. I want you to stop giving money to churches that won’t affirm queer and trans people.

I want you to provide financial resources for queer and trans youth to go to affirming camps, find therapists, have books that reflect them in their school libraries.

I feel you!! 

It’s interesting, I grew up a fundamentalist evangelical in a church that really worried about education. Probably because of what you’re mentioning here; that learning about the faith somehow kills it. 

But I think, instead, that learning about the faith kills an immature and fear driven understanding of the Bible and who God is. Meaning, once I went to seminary and really understood Scripture; understood the historical context in which it was written, understood the ways that the books in the Bible were in conversation with one another, understood the ways that they were critiques of what was happening in history, understood issues of translation and interpretation; there was no way I could still be a fundamentalist evangelical. And I think that terrified the church that I grew up in because I think they knew that. And they knew that educated people can’t be controlled.

So for a while for me my faith was super intellectual. It was about reason and logic and history and for me that was a vital antidote to the purely emotional faith I had grown up on. But it definitely left me feeling kind of cold at times and like I had no real “spiritual life” anymore.

But what I came to realize is that there ARE ways to engage your heart spiritually without abandoning your head! Faith became life-giving again when I was finally able to do that. When I could worship without having to abandon what I know about how the Bible was written. And in fact worship became a lot more rich and healthy and led me toward wholeness when I was able to bring my whole self to the table. When I didn’t have to be afraid of my intellect, of scholarship, of learning more. 

Because the Bible is actually a really kick ass collection of texts that speaks about justice, and centering the marginalized and the oppressed, and fighting empire. It speaks about how much our bodies matter (not just our souls). It speaks about breaking down boundaries between people and breaking down boundaries with God. It speaks about all of these juicy and radical and powerful things and I missed all of that when I read it as a literal history book (which it was never meant to be read as!). 

The best advice I can give for where you are is to keep going. Keep digging into the text more deeply. Keep learning and growing. And try to find some spiritual practices that allow you to engage both head and heart. Whether that’s blackout poetry or meditation or writing “first person theology”. Do what you need to do to bring it all together.

Some resources that might help:

For an example of first person theology see my ebook Walking Toward Resurrection: A Transgender Passion Narrative

For deconstructing fundamentalist faith and find a faith that is life-giving see Resurrecting Faith and lots more resources @queertheology

I grew up in a fundamentalist evangelical church and here’s basically what I was taught about modesty:

Men are so horny and incapable of controlling themselves that it falls to women to cover up so as not to lead men astray. 

But also, men are so incredibly horny that they find linoleum sexy (actual quote). 

So really it kind of boiled down to this idea that men were so unable to control themselves AND that they needed to take no responsibility for controlling themselves. But also that even if women DID all the heavy lifting and like wore a burlap sack men would still find them sexy. 

But there’s another piece to this, too, because as someone who everyone assumed was female I was, by all standards, very modest. I wore long shorts and baggy t-shirts in the summer that hid my chest. In the winter I wore XL hoodies and baggy jeans. AND YET because I wasn’t “appropriately feminine” I was considered to be violating modesty standards. 

So basically cover up yourself entirely but still be feminine and besides nothing you do will ever be good enough to keep men from lusting.

(This of course also assumes that everyone is straight and wants to have sex. Which we know isn’t true.)

Modesty rules are all sorts of effed up and basically come down to controlling women, shaming sexuality (especially of women), and put restrictions on women/female bodied people.

This afternoon I’ll officiate a funeral. My role there is simply to be a comforting presence and to speak words of hope. I hold space for feel to feel whatever they are feeling. I try to name the feelings in the room and give permission to them. 

Then I will drive across town and change out of my clericals into shorts and a t-shirt and lead a summer peace camp for kiddos ages 3 to 5th grade. It will consist of singing and dancing and story time and crafts. In that space I am the fun leader, the energy booster, the teacher. My job is to create space, leave nuggets of information for kids to grab on to, and help them be and feel safe.

I slept in, cleaned the apartment, did a lot of reading. I watched some documentaries and cooked some food. I didn’t talk to anyone (except via text).

And as the day went on I was able to hear my heart speaking. Nudging me toward what’s next, offering course corrections, saying “hey, you need to listen to me more.”

I try to. I try to really pay attention. But sometimes, when things get too scheduled and even when I have down time I am not alone or checked in, I can miss the messages I’m receiving. 

Lots of new followers here lately and so I thought it might be fun to do a little intro post!

Things about me:

I am a transgender man.

I am a playwright.

I am one of the co-founders of @queertheology

I am an ordained priest in the Old Catholic Church (for real. I have a Master Of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary and everything).

I run Uprising Theatre Company in Minneapolis.

I have two cats, Berrigan and Charlotte (but we call her Chuck).

I have an amazing partner named Ashley.

I work for a Lutheran Church as the Director of Faith Formation.

I read a lot (100 books a year).

I’ve just started meditating and I really dig it. 

I’m theology who spends most of his time writing queer and trans theology.

My inbox is open for questions!

(photo credit Jill Harms Photography)

For today’s actual thoughts:

I’m reading this book about peak performance; how to perform best without burning out. A lot of it is information I’ve read in other places so this is just reinforcement, but one of the things that is standing out when reading it put together this way is that so much of our lives depends on our mindset. Particularly the idea that we do have control over things in our lives. We can get better (even at creative tasks). We can learn and grow and change. 

I see so many people who expect people to educate them on LGBTQ issues but they won’t put in any work themselves. Or they want a church/pastor to fix their faith but they only bother to show up once every three months. Or they say they want to get better at their art but they don’t actually ever make art. 

You have to put in the work. You have to believe that you are capable and then put in the work.

One of the greatest gifts in my life is the fact that I believe that I can figure it out. Whatever it is, I can figure it out. I will learn how to do it. I will make it to the next step. I will work it out. And I believe that because it’s true. Because anything life has thrown at me I have been able to figure it out. I have failed a ton. It’s been messy. It’s been hard and depressing sometimes. But I’ve figured it out.