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,
asylum,
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.
……….
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 queer what it is to be queer.
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.
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.