LGBTQIA related

Complete orders of worship

(commissioned by Affirm United & Affirming Connections in Canada)

Other related liturgies:

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Queering psalm 23

Queer Love is my Divine Companion.
In Their company, I unfurl with delight.
They teach me to question the assumed and the rigid.
They lure me with eros, creative and promiscuous.
They fill me with the spirit of Stonewall
and lead me in the ways of “no pride for some of us
without liberation for all of us.”*
Even as systems threaten and forces oppress,
I will forever Act Up; For Silence is Death
and in our holy provocation you are always with us.
You embrace us as chosen family – a comfort in our grief.
You celebrate all that nurtures our aliveness
in the presence of doctrines and policies that deaden.
You bless every trans body.
You declare sacred every sexuality.
Life overflows with possibilities for becoming.
Surely, the glory of the peculiar, the outcast, the righteous freaks and the weirdos
will inspire me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell among the thresholds
where the Sacred Strange subverts every normalized terror
and the queers of all ilks fight for the right to grow old.

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On speaking queerly in public
by M Jade Kaiser

Every time the word “gay” rolls off my tongue…when the words “queer” or “intersex” or “trans” or “nonbinary” or “bisexual” bless my lips…no matter what I’m talking about, I am also, always, sending a love letter, casting a lifeline, praying a prayer, and yes, obviously, waving a flag. So many generations of silence and slurs, of words of violence and of quiet, lonely does-anyone-else-in-the-world-feel-this-way? My heart could burst every time I speak the imperfect but earnest attempts at finding ways to communicate lineages of “us.” Every word, a reaching toward each other. A “you’re not alone” or a “we got each other” and a “isn’t it divine, being this way?” It’s never too early to start teaching this love language and planting these seeds of assurance. Just thinking about it makes me want to sing the whole queer lexicon to the tune of ABCs to every new born baby. “Asexual, Bisexual, Cubs, and Dykes…” Train a child up in the way they should go, says the scriptures. And I want them all to go queerly, go freely, go in belonging. I want us to raise a whole generation of kids who never learn to hate themselves. Or to treat others like monsters. Or that there’s anyone even god is against. This is indeed part of my queer agenda: To expose children as early as possible to all the possibilities of their beautiful becoming. To leave no doubt that whichever way their love blossoms and their gender blooms and their body unfurls, they will be protected, cherished, celebrated, loved. In the world as it is, to even begin to balance out all the messages otherwise, these things cannot be said enough. So we say them in every form they take across languages and cultures. We say them as early and as often as we can. We say them, especially, when they’re not welcome. We say them with all the love we’ve got and we will never, never stop.

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Trans day of visibility
by M Jade Kaiser


The way it begins as a child – this right to call into question the very things they call “natural.” Or innate. Or fixed. Those stale assumptions that have been woven into every aspect of everything. We take that thread. We undo it. And yes, so much falls apart. We say, “bless.” We say, “you’re welcome.” We say, “my god, it feels good.”

The way we let change work its magic in us. Language. Bodies. Names. Perceptions. Resisting the illusion of control, we surrender to the gifts of all that wishes to unfold, unfurl, (un)become. Even beloved things. Even scary things. Even when it means there will be loss. Our lives are a testament to what can flourish in letting go. In refusing to play the games. In climbing out of the confines of the expected and moving willfully into the lands of strange, wild, unruly.

The way all it takes is a whisper. Something within that unsettles us into a different direction. Calls to us like a path home. The power that lives there, in the listening. In the saying “yes.” In the agency born of the deepest kind of knowing. Impossible things become possible. Even more so, together. The way we call that “god.”

Maybe all this is why we are hated. The way we exercise creation. The way we learn to love ourselves. The way we practice metamorphosis, recreating ourselves from the inside out. According to our own desires. For the sake of our survival and each other’s. The way our lives rewrite some of the oldest stories. And how this points to the power of all of us. Of everything that we wish to (un)do.


In a world that so boringly,
so violently,
so stubbornly insists
on its stale and narrow gender rules and regulations,
God Themselves is a state of constant transition.

Though many try to tame Their wild,
make Them into the image of power,
and fix Them permanently to one static being,
They are change in a world that loves control.
They take our attempts at definitions and confuse them.
They trouble our most basic assumptions –
about ourselves, the earth, each other.

God, unwilling to stick to a single form for our comfortable comprehension.
Incapable of making Themselves so flat.
Their names are always changing.
They are a multitude of incarnations.
Our Deliverer from the status quo.
Our Liberator from ordinary logics of power.
Our Invitation to live into the abundance of possibilities within and around us.

What a blessing,
every trans child birthed unto us.
Precious glimpses.
Holy encounters.
Glorious invitations
to recognize the image of God –
the gifts of being and becoming so much more than what’s placed upon us,
the possibilities for living without losing a part of ourselves,
the desire to know and be known,
vulnerably, truthfully, entirely –
alive in all of us.


You perfectly-put-together(s).
You beautiful messes.
You rough-around-the-edge(s).
You gentle and wild ones.

If you worry about being enough…
Trans enough
Pretty enough
Brave enough
Strong enough
Sure enough
Hand over your questions in one final prayer
and take the open hand of your own life.
The only “right” way to be trans
is the one that preserves your soul,
the one that helps you tend to the Holy in you.

The Holy in your toes,
In your lips, in your gut.
The Holy in your scars,
in your hair, or lack thereof.
Fall in love with it.
Assure it that it is welcome.
Feed it with your hands.
Speak its real name like it never had another.
Whisper in its ear how sexy it looks.
It deserves to thrive.
It deserves safety.
It deserves somewhere to rest.
It deserves joy.
When it’s denied nonetheless,
Hold it softly, as a knowing one does.

You are not a burden or a lie or a distraction.
You are a holy encounter.
In all the ways you change,
in all the ways you stay the same,
Your flesh is a testimony
to the power and beauty
of wearing your own truth.
It looks so good on you.
When these facts finally make a home in your bones.
When you can live…

Don’t settle for the ease of your own exhale.
The air in your lungs is the gift of generations,
and too many are running out of breath.
by misogyny, and white supremacy, and hate.
By isolation and individualism.
By the state.

The only “right” way to be trans
is the one that keeps you here
so we can find each other
and love this collective body
yearning to be received


To all those who feel invisible on this day of trans visibility…
To those who are stuck in homes with unsupportive or unknowing parents, partners, or roommates. You who don’t get to hear your true name spoken by those you love most. You who must hide. You who keep putting your heart out there only to have it returned back to you. You who have to tuck away all the things that make you feel most you, most seen, most known because they are not welcome in your home.
To all those who are imprisoned by racist, transphobic, sexist, anti-sex worker laws who are now facing increased vulnerability under COVID-19…You who know days like TDOV too often leave you out. You who are feeling more afraid, more invisible than ever.
To all the beloveds for whom life already felt too hard. You who struggle to find places of rest, of hope, of joy. You who wonder how long you can endure. (please stay with us, precious one)
To all the elders, you faithful saints, who are feeling vulnerable. To all the youth without a home to turn to. You who were just laid off and fear no one else will hire you. You whose gender-affirming surgeries have been canceled and you are struggling with the loss. You who are just tired of the every day blows of a transphobic world. You who don’t expect any better. You whose struggle is never named. You who don’t fit into any of the mainstream narratives of what it means to be trans. You who are erased. You who want so much more for your people than a flashy day of visibility on social media. You who long for a community of faith but have no affirming place to turn. You who still struggle to feel your worth and who cannot yet believe that the love and affirmation of God is yours.
Though you may feel invisible, you are not invisible. Nor are your struggles. The Holy One knows you, sees you, speaks your name with love and tenderness. The Holy One delights in you and accompanies you in struggle, an ever-present source of strength and wisdom. May you sense Love’s affirmation of your being and becoming. May you sense the Divine power in you. May you sense your connection to your trans kin – those who came before, those who live today, those who are yet to come. There is so much Sacredness among us. May you be assured, above all, that you and your life are precious, deserving of safety, respect, material resources, and love. We keep reminding each other and working together to make it so.

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(Be)coming Out
by M Jade Kaiser

(Be)coming out.
Not so much an unveiling of a hidden static treasure,
nor a final declaration or destination.
Not so much a correction of the past, now properly amended,
nor solely a discovery of a word for difference long felt.

(Be)coming out.
An impermanent clarity about the self in community.
A fleeting certainty about a something always uncertain.
A question of what politics to pursue.
A constant reconstituting.
A holy reconfiguration.
A reconstructing sexuality, gender, race, what it means to be human –
Creating on different terms, with different values.
A resistance to white supremacist cishetero patriarchy.
A development of friction on purpose.
A slow work.

It is a forever-practice
to actively dis-entangle from the web of destruction,
to become something otherwise.

It takes so much intention
to become queer –
to seek the identity of an ever strange(r) thing,
to create ourselves over and over and over again
as power and proximity to normalcy changes or evolves.
To call each other home
when the way is nomadic.

(Be)coming out.
It unsteadies Histories.
And calls forth futures unfixed.
Turning away from essentialist temptations,
it refuses to be reconciled
while so much is still broken.

What do we hope to become?
Not a thing to be accepted,
but a location of solidarity from which the world is built anew.

– Inspired and deeply influenced by Shane Phelan’s essay (Be)Coming Out in “Getting Specific, Postmodern Lesbian Politics,” 1994.

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Praise be
by M Jade Kaiser

Praise be to the creator of queer and trans wonders. Of bodies made perfect through self-love. Of love that is expansive. Of the holiness of “strange.” Of lines blurred and certainty troubled. Of the particular beauty birthed from determination to be. Of becoming. Of multifaceted. Of community in knowing the joy and the struggles. Of generations of proudly weird. Of solidarity. Of tenderness. Of together. Of ever unfolding ways of being. Of families made in endless variations. Of “will not hide.” Of surviving in forced hiddenness. Of unafraid. Of trembling but persisting. Of sacred connection in flesh, in heart, in sharing resources, in being with and for one another.

“What sorrow for those who say what is evil is good and what is good is evil.” -Isaiah 5:20

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A trans prayer of divine understanding
by M Jade Kaiser

Creative Spirit,
Holy Momentum,
Ever Transitioning One,
Do you hold the prayers of trans people close,
like the embrace of someone who understands –
a source of comfort or hope?

We share this joy – you and us:
Taking on new forms
that life might thrive.
Shedding what no longer fits;
or never did.

Struggles, we share, too:
Religious beliefs that confine being and becoming.
Enduring acts of violence
born from fear and fueled by power.

Though even we endure too much, too long,
how burdensome is your lot…
Centuries pass and still,
so few who claim to love you
believe you are who you say you are –
calling you an excuse for bigotry,
when you are a river of Love.

Do all the theologies of hate,
and songs of Sunday apathy,
land on your ears like a deadname –
something given to you
that you never asked for
and just won’t go away?

Do you wince
each time a prayer ascends to “Him” –
because more than anything,
you know what that means to do
is distance you from the likes of “Her” or “Them?”

When you stretch out your arms
as the embrace of a gentle man,
or kick out your feet
as the dance of a woman,
or run wild in open fields
through every gender-less,
or gender-abundant,
or nonbinary kiddo
loving their flesh,
do you take delight in every fit,
finding a spot of home
in every body?

The glory of your Multiplicity cannot be hidden away.
We may be a long way from safety yet,
but your mercies are new every morning
and with each day dawns new possibilities
of Sacred Transition
into a world more fitting for everyone.

May your blessing be upon all your trans beloveds.
Take pleasure in us, your stunning incarnations.
And as we care for our each other,
may the god we practice be a comfort and a strength.

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God is queer as in
by M Jade Kaiser

God is queer

as in
non-conforming to norms that destroy;

as in
breaking open new possibilities
through flesh entangled,
and brave acts of collective courage;

as in
troubling certainties,
resisting assimilation,
and persisting through struggle together;

as in
chosen family,
and reaching out to isolated kin;

as in
always becoming;

as in
less “this or that”
and more “multilayered, multidimensional, and complex.”

as in
intimately experienced,
and beyond definition;

as in
the love between strangers and sheets,
the love that lasts for lifetimes,
the love that begets love;

as in
resists white supremacy,
and all its deadening lies,
rigid definitions,
and desire to control and confine;

as in
loyal to love, lovers, beloveds,
even when it’s all on the line;

as in
hurtful when spit from the mouth of hate,
but sometimes still also a lighthouse,
a history of holy uprising,
and a coming home from within.

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For trans kids
by M Jade Kaiser

Love chases flourishing.
It is not idle before violence.
It stretches and expands in company of community, wisdom, knowledge, and experience.

The love of God affirms trans kids
protects trans kids
listens to trans kids
fights for trans kids
delights in trans kids.

May it be so,
among all who profess to know God,
and to practice love.

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Trans day of remembrance
by M Jade Kaiser


Trans day of remembrance and resilience – an intimate and serious thing.
A necessary ritual for the ones grieving all year long
the perpetuation of unnecessary death.

May remembrance not be in vain nor in vanity,
coupled with conscious complicity in the structures that enable and encourage the destruction of life.

May participation in mourning precipitate working for change alongside the living.

Let this grief make way for resisting whiteness centering itself this day and others.

Let this ritual be a practice of collective refocusing on the roots of sexism and transmisogynoir in manifestations of anti-trans violence.

Let the visibility of this day,
the complicatedness of what it has become,
the chance to recenter its attention,
tell the entire truth
about what creates the conditions for such death:
The class realities. The prejudices and policies against sex workers.
The theologies. The misogyny.
The politics of respectability.>
The colonialization.
The transphobia in all its forms.
And the white supremacy from which so much of it is birthed.

Over these,
and all they steal,
we weep.


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Scandalous God
by M Jade Kaiser

Divine Presence,
Scandalous One,
Versatile God,
You have been called the worst of names,
tossed aside by the hands of tradition,
met with violence and neglect by stranger and kin alike.
And still, you do not conform to the expectations of power
or polite your way into halls of destruction.
You, the ultimate transgressor of norms
that harm or confine,
bear witness to the glory of Strange.
You, Queer One, reveal the gifts of falling outside the lines.
You, Wild One, break open possibilities –
within us and around us –
whispering in our ear,
“See me. Feel me. Desire me.” You help us come alive again.
Beauty is your passion.
Love is your motivation.
Courage is your center.
May your spirit be awakened in every space dull with repressed delight,
that we may choose to live into the riches
of this peculiar life together.
Embrace us, O God,
and lead us in the ways of your love,
so promiscuous,
so deviant,
so free.

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Untidy God
by M Jade Kaiser

What of a God who doesn’t believe in having it all figured out?
In this idea of a single, tidy story.
But instead a God who changes with the day
and never stops asking you to learn how to love every messy, complicated, seemingly contradictory side of Themselves?
What of a God who has been so many different things. And ways.
One that has always been transitioning.
Taking on new flesh.
Shedding what hurts.
Claiming what frees.
Finding a fresh way to show us the Divine that we’ve been.
And everything that’s kept us from living it out.
What of a God that is tired of being misgendered?
Isn’t interested in excuses any longer.
Gets a little rude about it.
Doesn’t mind asking you to try a bit harder.
To let go of everything you’re more loyal to than love.
What of a God who spends more time dancing with strangers at 2am,
cooking a hot meal for the turned-away youth,
or protesting to abolish prisons and police
then attending any worship on Sunday mornings?
What of a God whose inclusion is radical?
One who calls from the fringes
to the halls of power
and the places of comfort
saying, “come! There’s a place for you here.
If you just lay down your life,
your power,
your privilege.
You can be family.
You will become alive again.”
What of a God who is queer?
As in politically.
As in strange and proud of it.
As in about the things of love and bodies and liberation and solidarity.
What of a God who is found in the flesh of everyone you have denied a kind word,
a safe bathroom,
a marriage ceremony,
a friendly smile,
access to health care,
a home,
a faith community,
or even just respect?
Listen for this God today,
you will find them in selfies and stories,
coming out again and again
in testimonies and silence,
in gracious invitation,
and fierce and radical calls to a different kind of living,
a different kind of family,
a different kind of love.
Bring your offerings.
Lend your hands.
Whisper your prayers
And wail your laments
before all that is Holy and Gay.
Holy and Lesbian.
Holy and Queer.
Holy and Bi.
Holy and Trans.
Holy and Asexual.
Holy and Intersex.
Holy and Still Finding Their Way.

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On national coming out day
by M Jade Kaiser

Thank you to the queer and trans ancestors who left us histories to hold on to.
Thank you to every kid who is the first in their class or their school or their town or their family, who made it a little easier for the next one.
Thank you to the elders who fought for yourselves and for us.
Thank you to the ones who let your freak flag fly.
Thank you to the ones who do “queer” in your own way.
Thank you to the ones who take each other in.
Thank you for kissing in public and holding hands in the street.
Thank you to the ones who share their scars.
Thank you to the ones who hold space – no pressure.
Thank you, loud ones.
Thank you, quiet ones.
Thank you to the ones who helped us learn to love our desire. No more shame.
Thank you to the ones who help us love our trans bodies.
Thank you to you who are doing what you need to do to survive. We need you.
Thank you for persisting.
Thank you for proclaiming.
Thank you for being.

To you who have shouldered the losses,
and taken the bullets,
and been fired, betrayed, beaten, bullied or isolated.
Your pain is honored.
Your contribution is not forgotten.
You deserve(d) so much better.
Thank you.

Once upon a time,
They could say they didn’t know us.
But not anymore.
Here we are.
Bringing our sacred strange into their pews and pulpits,
to their dinner tables,
and beside them in waiting rooms and check-out lines.
No apologies.
They are so lucky to have us here.

Thank you to you who are yet to come,
who will expand our understanding
and help us love more deeply
– ourselves and each other.
Thank you to every queer beloved and trans love who keeps choosing to live.
And choosing to love.
And choosing to support each other.

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Strange One
by M Jade Kaiser

Holy One,
your Strange ways,
they astound us.

Among the mighty, your Wisdom is called foolish.
While others assert their power with force,
Yours unfolds like an invitation.
You never resort to weapons.
You turn from all paths of domination.
Beauty and truth are your means of persuasion.
Freedom is your promise.

While empire shouts false promises of security,
using fear to turn us against each other,
You whisper things of vulnerability,
of meals at table and sharing what we have,
of solidarity and new life.

When you, the Sacred, took on flesh,
You sought neither thrones nor prestige,
but made your friends among the outcast.
Sex workers.
The imprisoned.
The hungry and the ill.
The fed up and the weary.

Though you were presented with every opportunity
to seek importance among the elite,
to the end, you choose the edges,
making your home among the vulnerable,
living in solidarity with the criminalized and despised.

Abandoning the promises of conformity,
we hope to be strange like you.
Strangers to all that normalizes evil,
to power that corrupts,
to practices that demean or neglect.

Make us faithful to the peculiar calling of Christ.
Unafraid to bear the names of the despised.
Firmly planted in the confidence of your Holy Mystery –
the strange love that calls us to fight with and for each other,
and awakens us to the joy you set before us.

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Prayers of the people
by M Jade Kaiser

In the midst of all that keeps our spirits frantic, overwhelmed, or troubled, we pause.

We pause to remember each other as those whose precious and precarious lives
are inherently bound together.
We pause to remember the basic gifts of water, of trees, of beauty, of the land we gather upon.
We pause to remember our neighbors – distant and near.

And so to the One who is Love, we bring the prayers of our communities. Where we share in joy or concern, let us respond together, “God, hear our prayers.”

We pray…

for all the queer, trans, and intersex children and youth across the globe. For the ones who are struggling with feelings of isolation and shame. For those who have no safe place or people to retreat to. For those who must be teachers to the adults in their lives. For those who are unsafe in their communities.

God, hear our prayers.

We pray for our elders whose labor we are indebted to. For the ones who never tasted the freedom they fought for. For the ones who were forced to the fringes of their own movements. For the allies who suffered beside us, casting their lot with us in true solidarity. For the ones forgotten and betrayed.

God, hear our prayers.

We pray for all those who hunger for justice and liberation today. For the ones who lay down their lives for their friends. For the ones who tell the truth. For the ones who take risks, who dream, who feed and pray, who fight for bread and roses, both. For the ones who are eager to learn and grow and offer their gifts to the work of enfleshing your dreams.

God, hear our prayers.

We pray for all who are suffering in the church and the world at the hands of white supremacy. For those imprisoned by the state. For those whose land has been taken. For the earth that groans beneath us. For those without food or housing. For those who have yet to repent.

God, hear our prayers.

We pray in gratitude for all that nourishes and sustains us. For the gifts of beauty and friendship, shared meals, and art, and love. For laughter. For pleasure. For the friends, lovers, and comrades who lift our spirits, always by our side when the days are heavy. For the freedom we have in Christ.

God, hear our prayers.

For your presence within and around us, in our highs and lows, our hope and our despair, God, we give you thanks. Hear our prayers and deepen our willingness to show up with and for one another, sharing in each other’s burdens and working for one another’s protection and care. Amen.


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queer calls to worship
by M Jade Kaiser


Strange One. Fabulous One. Fluid and ever becoming One.
Do not allow us to make our ideas of you into an idol.
You are as close to us as our own breath and yet, your essence transcends all that we can imagine.
You are mother, father, and parent. You are sister, brother, and sibling.
You are drag queen, and trans man, and gender-fluid – incapable of limiting your vast expressions of beauty.

Embodied in us, your creation,
we recognize our flesh in all its forms is made holy in You.

With thanksgiving, we celebrate your glorious manifestations.
Blessed are our bodies. Blessed is our love. Blessed are we when we celebrate that which the world turns away. Fill our hearts with a pride rooted in resistance to all that seeks to destroy.
May we delight in the ways you have created us: diverse, unique, surprising, and beautiful. Thanks be to God!

Listen! Listen for the voice of God, naming us all: Holy. Beloved. Cherished. Valued.
We believe you delight in us!
Make us people who recognize and proclaim your beauty and goodness in unexpected places.
Surprise us. Challenge us. Transform us.
We trust in you, Holy One, to reveal to us the sacredness of every life, of every way of being, of every physical manifestation of your Spirit.
May it be so!

Blessed be the Non-Conforming One.
God, who took on flesh
Of the economically oppressed,
Of an immigrant,
of an infant.
Whose family and birth was anything but traditional.
This Holy One won’t be hindered by social norms.
She defies our expectations.
She challenges our preconceptions.
She awakens us to new possibilities.
Praise be to God, the queerest of us all.

In the image of God, you created everything and called it good!
In abundant diversity, your likeness is found in us.
We reject all messages that belittle or degrade any among us.
And so in faithfulness to God and one another we proclaim:
Sacred are our bodies of every size and dis/ability.
Blessed are our sexualities, drawing us towards love of many kinds.
Beloved is every gender, revealing you in different ways.
To our skin, beautiful in every shade, we say hallelujah!
Praise God, our Creator, who blesses us with this world,
these bodies, and our fellow creatures, all created good, very good.

We, of many backgrounds and identities, personalities, and ideas,
gather collectively in shared pursuit of the Sacred.
Together, we make up the body of Christ.
Wherever one of us is in pain,
our whole body aches.
Whenever one of us is cut off,
the whole body is wounded.
Whoever is kept away by discriminatory policies or practices or prejudices,
Our collective soul suffers the loss of their presence.
We need one another in order to be whole,
God make us the body of Christ as you envisioned.
May we become your presence enfleshed, in service to the world and one another.


God is calling us
Out of the places we hide
Out of insecurity
Out of shame
Out from under that which silences love and justice.
Come out, people of God!
Though we may be afraid
Though we will be at risk
Though the cross stands as a threat
God calls us to courage!

Our God is a god of resurrection. Of new life after devastation. Of hope in the grip of evil.
And so we dare to proclaim, with pride and faith, our truths:
We believe in the power of love.
We believe in solidarity with the suffering.
We believe we are each valuable.
We believe that our togetherness is transformative.
The world is longing for Holy truths that reveal, voices that speak real words of hope.
Come out, people of God!

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opening prayers
by M Jade Kaiser


Passionate One, your love for us was so great that you queered every boundary working against our ability to perceive you. When we imagined you as ‘beyond us,’ in the heavens, distant from our ordinary life, you took on flesh like ours and queered the boundaries between divinity and creation. You revealed to us that you are within us, around us, and between us. Open our hearts, O God, to the sacredness that resists boundaries that confine. In the Incarnate One we pray, Amen.


God of infinite manifestations, free us of shame that confines and judgment that destroys. Bring healing to the wounds of being told we are too much or too big or too proud or too young or too old or too queer. Ground us in the truth that sets us free: We are the work of a Divine hand – the holy lives in our flesh. Wherever we struggle to believe, meet us there. In Christ we pray. Amen.


God, we look for you all around us but always, you are as close as our own breath. You linger in our very flesh. Forgive us for our struggles to remember you linger, also, in the flesh of all our neighbors. The ones attacked, the ones policed, the ones condemned, the ones who are hungry, the ones turned away. In those we wound, you are wounded also, but when we honor the flesh of another, you are honored too. May it be so in us, Amen.


God, you have modeled for us time and time again what it looks like to come out. Since the beginning, you have been revealing your true self to us in different forms but we always struggle to understand. In Jesus, you took on the flesh of an infant, made yourself vulnerable, risked everything, all in hopes of deepening your relationship with us. Like our ancestors who responded to your coming out with violence and rejection, we acknowledge we too turn away from your revelation in unexpected people and places today. By your Spirit, make us the kind of community where those who come out as queer or trans, or in any vulnerable way, can find home, family, and embrace. Amen.

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Communion liturgies
by M Jade Kaiser


The Holy One be with you
And also with you
Open your hearts to the One who is Love
We open our hearts to you, O God
Let us give thanks to God who sets us free
It is our joy to give you thanks!

It is our joy, O God, to express our gratitude for your work in us. You offer to us life abundant, free from needing to conform to the pressures of our world. You wove us together with all of creation that we might be, like you, creators. You set us in the garden to plant, to grow, to help life to flourish. You set a path before us to co-create with you a world where beauty and truth and goodness might thrive.

But we have betrayed our calling. Instead of allowing life to flourish in its many forms, too often, O God, we turn away from those who don’t conform to our expectations. At times, we even become violent towards anyone who is different. Your creative hand in the formation of our queer and trans siblings is punished by both church and world. Since the beginning, we have struggled to overcome our fear of difference.

But in your love for all of us, you took on the very flesh the world despises. The flesh of one on the borders. The flesh of one who broke rules. The flesh of one who hung out with the outcasts, the weirdos, the sinners. In Christ, we are awakened to the Holiness of difference.

When the Sacredness of those on the margins is affirmed, the powers that depend on the status quo are threatened. And so, the religious and political leaders set out to end the life of Jesus.

On the night of his arrest, he gathered around table with his companions.

He took bread, blessed it, broke it, gave it to his disciples and said,

“This is my body which is given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me.”

He did the same with the cup after the supper, saying,
“This cup that is poured out is the new covenant.”

And so in remembrance of the One who refused to conform to values and practices that harm,

we pray that the Spirit would make us one in our vision for the Kindom, where all are free to flourish in our created forms. Pour out your Spirit on this bread and this cup, that we might be the body of the queer Christ, relentless pursuer of love in all its surprising, confronting, and varied manifestations. Amen.

Prayer after Communion

God, we give you thanks for this meal that nourishes us, body and soul. May it sustain us as we confront evil that keeps us or others from living freely as our true selves. Where any social norm or power imbalance limits our possibilities for thriving, may we be a witness to Christ, pursuer of justice for all your people. Amen.


The Holy One be with you
And also with you
Open your hearts to the One who is Love
We open our hearts to you, O God
Let us give thanks to God who shapes our world
For every creature and creation, we give you thanks, O God!

Indeed, we give you thanks, our Divine Creator. You declared from the beginning that we were created in your imagine, a reflection of what is holy, each, in our own way, a glimpse of you. We praise the works of your creative hand that fills our life with beauty. Every flower that blooms, every animal that delights, every body of water that sustains our life – all part of your good works.

Despite the abundance of life around us, we still turn to destruction. Each in our own ways, we have failed to embrace you by failing to embrace all your people, especially those different than us. We have, at times, sided with political and religious powers that refuse to recognize your image in all people.

And so we turn to Jesus, who showed us what it looks like to live into our true selves as people of God. He was humble yet grounded in your love for him. He sought out the despised and made them friends. He confronted every power that belittled, marginalized, and oppressed. His commitment to living out the image of God enfleshed could not be swayed, even in the face of death.

On the night of his arrest, he gathered around table with his companions.

He took bread, blessed it, broke it, gave it to his disciples and said,

“This is my body which is given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me.”

He did the same with the cup after the supper, saying,
“This cup that is poured out is the new covenant.”

Even in death, O God, your love prevailed. Through you Spirit, Christ was raised from the grave. No person, no institution, no force of evil could extinguish the work of your hand.

And so, by the same Spirit, bless these gifts of bread and cup that they may be the living Christ within us today; compelling us to be agents of love, uncompromising on our commitment to protecting every one of your creatures and creations.

Prayer after Communion

God of abundance, we give you thanks for the grace we experience at your Table. For forgiveness. For connection. For sustenance. For a renewed vision of who we are. Our gratitude abounds. Amen.


The Holy One be with you
And also with you
Open your hearts to the One who is Love
We open our hearts to you, O God
Let us give thanks to God who took on flesh
For your presence within us and around us, we give you thanks!

God, we give you thanks for dwelling, not at a distance, but intimately in our lives – as intimately as our own flesh.

You gifted us with bodies and through them we come to know you:

Through touch.

Through taste.

Through struggle.

Through rest.

Too often, O God, we treat the needs, longings, and desires of our own bodies as a barrier to our life in you. We dismiss the bodily needs of our neighbors. We condemn people because of their bodies or how they use their bodies in different ways than us. But you, in your love for us and for all creatures and creations, took on flesh like ours, entangling, forever, the Holy with our flesh. You showed us through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ that we love through our bodies, we seek justice for bodies, we live out our faith in these bodies – not despite them.

Jesus, who took care and rest of his own body, revealed what God with flesh on looks like.

He fed people. He healed people. He ate with people. He met the physical and spiritual needs of bodies.

And when his own body was threatened by political and religious execution, he turned to the Table. He sought, first, in his hour of need, to share in a meal with his friends.

On the night of his arrest, he gathered around table with his companions.

He took bread, blessed it, broke it, gave it to his disciples and said,

“This is my body which is given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me.”

He did the same with the cup after the supper, saying,
“This cup that is poured out is the new covenant.”

The body of God was crucified.
And the the body of God was resurrected.
Not only in spirit, but in flesh.

God has shown us, these bodies are holy, precious, and full of possibility.

And so we pray to the Holy Spirit: Come, bless this bread and this cup, that we might encounter your presence as we touch, and we taste, and we feel. Make us one with the sacredness of our own flesh and blood. Make us one with the flesh of all who suffer. Make us one with the flesh of the earth. At this Table, may we become one body. Amen.

Prayer after Communion

Enfleshed One, we give you thanks for this meal that nourishes our hunger for justice, for connection, for a world that is whole. We long for so much more than a taste. May we be relentless pursuers of your Kindom, until ever body has its needs met, every body is recognized as beloved, and every body is treated with dignity and care. Amen.


The Holy One be with you
And also with you
Open your hearts to the One who is Love
We open our hearts to you, O God
Let us give thanks to God who takes risks for love
For the courage of the Holy that lives in us, we give thanks

Throughout history, O God, we have struggled to remember who we are. When forces of evil work to shape our understanding of you, ourselves, and one another, we get lost. We hide parts of ourselves. We keep the things that make us vulnerable buried deep. We cling to security and safety. We turn from meaningful connection with one another.  We take cover under the patterns of our culture.

But you have created us for so much more.

In Jesus we saw a life lived in all its potential.

Life that is abundant, life that is collective, life that is tender and full.

But we saw, also, in him, what can happen to a life when power and norms are exchanged for truth, collective justice, and integrity. And so we wonder.

If we live true to our authentic selves, will we be condemned?

In proclaiming truths that confront unjust power, do we stand a chance of survival?

How will it go for us, if we are willing to risk everything for love?

You have never promised us safety, but you have shown us what is possible.
The Spirit brings new life even to places of death.

Jesus, knowing the dangers ahead, kept proclaiming his truth.

There was nothing worth his silence, not even his life.

And so he turned to community for companionship in the struggle.

On the night of his arrest, he gathered around table with his companions.

He took bread, blessed it, broke it, gave it to his disciples and said,

“This is my body which is given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me.”

He did the same with the cup after the supper, saying,
“This cup that is poured out is the new covenant.”

In Jesus, God came out to the world, challenging systems and norms. And though great violence was done and unfathomable loss was felt, Love presses on still today, transforming life after life.

And so we pray, pour out your Spirit on this bread and this cup. Through these gifts, fill our hearts with courage to live boldly for one another, proclaiming the truths that set us free.

Blessed be this meal of hope. Amen.

Prayer after Communion

God, we give you thanks for the invitation to your Table. No matter who we are, no matter our struggles or regrets, we are never turned away. Like all the gifts you give us, may we never be content to keeping them to ourselves. May this meal compel us to invite others – especially those who are turned away from the tables of their families, their churches, their communities – to our own tables, overflowing with love and nourishment abundant. Amen.

The Last Supper was a Drag Brunch – Communion liturgy
by Cassidy Hall

The Divine among us be within you.
And also within you.

We lift our spirits to the Divine’s shine.
We lift our light to meet the Divine’s brightness.

We fill ourselves with gratitude.
We embody an abundance of gratefulness.

On the night Jesus was unjustly arrested by the systemic structures of oppression and
hatred, even as he saw the moment approaching, he chose to gather friends and share a

He wanted celebration to be a part of his memory.
He longed for an abundance of love to carry him into life eternal.

Letting his friends know where and when to join him,
He gathered wine and bread at the biggest table he could find.

As they gathered, the table elongated,
And more arrived
Until all the faces he loved were present–
Until all presentations of the Divine’s image in gender and sexuality expressions were
among them. 

In the overflow of love,
In the delight of celebration,
In the wonder of the vastness of personhood,
A drag brunch ensued.

Jesus and his friends gathered to see the kings, queens, and those in drag among them,
Fawning and fanning themselves as they glided around the room,
Dancing and singing in their most bold expressions of self,
Most fantastic reflections of the Divine.

In the joy of gathering,
Exhilaration of life,
Pleasure of extravagance,
And the deep peace of togetherness, 
Jesus sat delighted to be among his friends,
Jesus sat pleased with the company of his final meal. 

Then, John, Jesus’ beloved, leapt up from his seat to go behind the curtain and prepare
to join the show.
Upon emerging in drag, she leaned over and whispered in the ear of Jesus,
“I’ve always wanted to do this.”
Jesus smiled, as if seeing his most beloved come fully alive for the first time.

The celebration continued until amid the noise and clamor,
Amid the joy and elation of life most alive,
Jesus took the bread in the middle of the table, 
And lifted it as if to remind everyone to eat and exclaimed,
“May the joy among us now, live amid you in my absence. 
May you remember to love one another, love yourself, 
and live in the abundant beauty of exactly who you are.”

Then, Jesus raised his glass, and toasted his friends, saying
“This is to joy, to the possibilities among and within you, 
to the newness which will live among you in my absence.”

All are invited to this table. 
All genders and sexualities. 
All expressions and image-bearers of the Divine.

Your presence is requested, your company is desired, your wholeness and ever-
becoming self is welcomed.

Please come in body or spirit to receive the gifts this table offers.

Post-Drag-Communion Prayer:

Divine Light, you shine most brightly in us when we are most fully ourselves. Your
holiness awakens wholeness within us in. With your image upon us, may we reveal the
ever-expanding, ever-becoming table, and an openness to the most profound
possibilities of love. Divine Love, may this food and drink be a reminder of our innate
belonging, our persistent existence, and our celebrated personhood. 
Go with us now, to live lives of the great celebration, to live lives true to your love.

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Prayers of dedication
by M Jade Kaiser


God, in so many ways we are taught that we must be self-reliant, independent, in need of no one. But you, our Creator, fashioned us as one creation with many parts, connected intimately. Bless these gifts that they might be put to work for justice until we heal everything that breaches our connection with one another – until isolation is no longer and our sacred interconnection is restored. Amen.


God, we know there are bodies aching with hunger today. There are bodies bearing scars of discrimination. There are bodies living in social isolation. We long to be a part of your healing work wherever there is pain or brokenness. Receive these offerings and bless them and our lives to the service of all your people. Amen.


Spirit of Justice, we offer to you our resources in all their forms that you might put this community to work in enfleshing your love in this aching world. Amen.


To be whole; to be safe; to be fully alive  – this is our prayer for all your people. Receive our offerings and bless them to this work. Amen.


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