happy 1/2 birthday
Today is my 1/2 birthday. Not my 1/2 birthday…that doesn’t come for another few months (but, I will accept 1/2 birthday presents early, if you’re so inclined…). No, today is my blog’s 1/2 birthday: I began this journey 6 months ago. And so much has changed. So much has been lost, and so much life has been gained. I am a better, fuller, more authentic and integrated, joyful, present, and alive friend, lover, woman, person…me. I’ve come a long way since the beginning. Happy 1/2 birthday!
Also, today marks my “I’m-half-way-done-with-seminary/grad school” day. It is surreal to think that in one year I will be anticipating graduation, beginning to practice my calling, living even more authentically and into who I am meant to be. But, for now, I’m good with celebrating the last 6 months. I mean, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, or anything. So, for today, I am going to mark this time. To remember–to put into membership–what has come and what has gone.
It’s good to pause, and it is so good to remember. This is one of my spiritual disciplines, I think. The etymology of the word “remember” stems from the Latin word rememorari: “to be mindful of”. One of my friends has had 9 miscarriages over the last several years. Many of these have happened during the second and even third trimesters–so she has actually labored a
nd given birth a few times. Each time, she and her husband have taken such care in naming their baby…and in naming their child, they are then inviting the grief and sorrow of a named life with stolen potential. I was thinking about one of the names they chose for their son: Zachary. This name, Zachary, is hebraic in origin and means “God has remembered”. My friend, Zachary’s mommy, shared with me how essential to their grieving of so many lost babies it is for them to remember: to re-member. To intentionally, sometimes painfully, give membership to their lost hopes and dreams of relating to their sons and daughters. In the grief and joy, my friend has taught me, God re-members for us and with us.
The last 6 months have been full of events I need to put back into membership. I need to acknowledge and care for, to grieve and celebrate, to hope and dream beyond…so, I will remember. As I have been processing the readings and lectures in my human growth and development class this last term, I draw a quick association to attachment theory and remembering. Regardless of your vocation, interest, degree track, etc., you should read this book as it has the potential to facilitate transforming you into a better person: Attachment in Psychotherapy by David Wallin. Mindfulness and freedom to explore without fear of abandonment are evidence of secure attachments…I find myself in a place of adventure and remembering. I’ve never been so mindful in all my life…and I have not explored with such freedom and security as I do now. With these things in mind…here’s what I remember:
- When I began this work I would have defensively suggested that if I had the choice, I would not be gay (“I mean, who would choose this?”). I always felt inauthentic when I would argue such a point…because the truth is that I have always been more me, more true, more real when I do the work of integrating my lesbianness with my self. I truly never believed that I would wish to change this if I had the choice–though the oppression, the discrimination, and the harm that I encounter is realm, this is who I am. I came across this quote on Christine’s blog and I think it makes my point:
“I wouldn’t be LGBT, if I had a choice, is internalized self-hate. It’s like saying I wouldn’t be a woman, or a man, or “white,” or a person of color, if I had a choice. It’s the desire to flee something we are.” Robert Minor, Gay and Healthy in a Sick Society
- I have voice. And it is good. I began to proclaim it a bit louder here. It has been greatly due to my own blogging, and reading of others’ blogs (who are attempting or supportive of the integration of Christian spirituality and non-heterosexuality), that I have begun to use my voice in my relationships, my classes, my work, and with my family. This has been costly. In my exploration–the adventure of speaking and of being heard–I have been threatened, I have been silenced, I have been humiliated, and I have been denied and dismissed. However, I remember that this type of oppression used to steal my voice–and what I hope to put into membership right now (at my 1/2 birthday) is that my voice is still here, is growing louder, is gentle and kind, is life-giving, and is very presently naming oppression and inviting others to conversation around interrupting oppression.
- There has been much death throughout my life (most of which has been spiritual and psychological, but the physical threat of death has also been a part of my story)–and this has been true over the last 6 months as well. I have stepped into the paradox of living this authentic life…like my therapist says, life and death are nearly inseparable, so close that they are like two sides of the same coin. Throughout the process of integrating my lesbian sexuality with my Christian spirituality I have lost much: friendships, family, a job, “credibility”, hope and dreams, my church family, ministries, and (literally) my life as I had known it. I have gained much: life, friendships, family, authenticity, more expansive hopes and dreams, imagination, community, pioneering ministries, truthfulness and acceptance, and favor in my academic world and job (among other things).
- I re-member my loneliness. This category has been one of grief for as long as I can recount, and I need God to remember this for me and with me. I re-member my desire for friendship; to have people in my life who would know me and love me. I re-member the sliver of hope I had to know my people (other LGBT folks), to form community, to wrestle with life and spirituality and heartbreak and love. I put into membership now, with a thankful heart, that I have all of these things. For the first time in my life I have friends who pursue relationship with me, who express curiosity about my life, and who invite me into their lives. I have never known such talented, such artistic and beautiful people. They are brave, they are risk-takers, they sometimes hurt others, they love well, they teach me what life is meant to look like, they are screwed up, and they invite me to relationship with God simply through our authentic encounters.When I grow up, these are the people I want to be like.
- I remember my theological transformation. I have new understandings of and applications for the theology of the Trinity, of the Gospel, of the Resurrection, of the Biblical narrative, of gender, of sexuality, of Atonement, of sin, of the Creation, and of humanity and personhood. Thank God for this transformation–from which I find more life, more freedom, more creativity, and more God.
- I put into membership my desires left unmet–and I hope in that remembering.
It’s my 1/2 birthday, and I’m a little older, a little more me, a little closer to integration (not that this will ever happen totally), a little more aware of others, of myself, and of God. It’s my 1/2 birthday and I have a lot of work to do before my 1st birthday celebration 6 months down the line. It’s my 1/2 birthday and I’m just going to pause and remember for a bit before moving on to the next one. I love my life.
mid-paper snack
nakedpastor: round-square
nakedpastor: preparfini
absojesus: mum and dad
absojesus: girl
absojesus: chance to relate
absojesus: closet
nakedpastor: box
nakedpastor: body parts
nakedpastor: loving the sinner
absojesus: love is love
furor poeticus numerus 10, etc.
Advent is upon us. I am feeling expectant. Maybe going to a baby shower, hearing Luci Shaw grace us with her poems about the incarnation and advent, the visible and felt change in season, and a general preparedness for something new have something to do with it? Maybe. Whatever the reason, I am aware of an anticipatory labor within my heart: a longing for redemption and life where there has only been promised death. So, it is from this place that I write and it is from this place that I relate.
Perhaps “endings” also have something to do with this season of expectancy. Tonight was a tangible ending event that distinctly marks my present educational training towards becoming a therapist as half way finished. Frightening, I know. Exciting, liberating, even arousing? Yes, this as well. Hmmm…here’s a thought: one of my professors while teaching a course entitled “Sexual Disorders” mentioned that he experienced arousal to the point of erection when one of his clients (female, of course) edged closer toward redemptive healing, repentance, and life in their work together…he is/was aroused by redemption. Perhaps in a different yet similar way, this season of eager anticipation of goodness is arousing the life within me. I am aroused by “coming to life”. Needless to say, this “coming to life” entails a lot of messiness and pain, labor and strife, opposition and fight. And this, too, is the place from where I write and relate.
In processing this season, here is a current work in progress:
the birth canal
It’s birthing time, labor pains have begun– have become: existence, breath, drink, eat, life, and– death is invited into light, gratitude weds grief, grief waters, and waters, and waters the seed implanted in the swollen womb: tears. the waiting gives way to a wading through bloody waters– the marker of pain and strife and belief that this unconventional nativity of livingness is worth puddles of torn flesh– flesh and bones, flesh of my flesh I am the Beloved’s and the Beloved is mine. the contractions are less affliction and all gift all suffering and all presence all of the time in this birth canal (November 24, 2009)
adventing
Yesterday afternoon was laced with glory: a celebration anticipating the welcoming of my friends’ (M and J) sweet Baby Boy into this world in +/- 2 weeks time. It was a great time of memory-making and memory-honoring as we each told stories of our favorite baby books (mine: Goodnight Moon and There Were Ten in the Bed). We gifted the parents-to-be with these tradition-rich children’s books…some of us even reading our chosen books to the group (I absolutely loved Cyndee’s interpretive singing of Snuggle Puppy). We were also able to contribute to a collective home-made storybook for the little guy (a winsome tale of a bumble bee named Bella and her companion Harry the firefly). As part of our gift for the baby shower, I wrote a poem of advent. I was absolutely inspired after sitting next to M while listening to Luci Shaw read her poetry with an advent theme. J read the poems aloud, with sweet tears. What an honor to hear these words embraced by Baby Boy’s daddy! I was asked by a number of my friends who were at the celebration yesterday if I would post the poem(s) (I had previously written a poem for M and J a few months ago when M’s baby bump was just beginning to show). So, here you are, two original pieces (my personal furor poeticus):
The Advent of Baby A.
(November 21, 2009)
Advent time —
full of sustaining pregnant pause;
we’re awaiting you, Baby Boy.
Truth of life and living —
you, Precious One, are evidence of God’s giving…abundance:
Abundant laughs and cries
Abundant peace and growth
Abundant mystery and unknown
Abundant grief and hope
Abundant Band-Aids
Abundant dreams and abundant story.
Advent time —
full of movement toward welcoming;
your nest is prepared, Baby Boy.
Come and know us that we may know you —
you, Little One, will shepherd lost sheep as your daddy will teach you
you, Gentle One, will offer such sweet hospitality as your mommy will teach you
you, Baby Boy, will walk a path that we cannot know yet;
though we know we will celebrate you.
You are loved and this is your advent time.
…and the earlier poem for the two parents-to-be (I wrote this for them as I was in class one evening–perhaps I was not present in the discussion, yet more present with my friends–and I noticed how much anticipation I held for M and J):
m and j
(September 28, 2009)
Pregnant with beginning. Pregnant with new. Pregnant with the in-between of two.
She’s framed with sweet lenses and curls and laughs.
She’s loved by his knowing and he’s known by her.
He’s generous with story, arms graciously inclusive and humbly present
Her voice full of care, words clothed in mercy and strength…she ushers in life and living
Together he and she are baby boy
Together she and he are mommy and daddy
Together they are the marking of Christ, of Truth, of Humanity
Pregnant with journey. Pregnant with compassion. Pregnant with the Gospel…
Anxiously awaiting you, sweet gift of God.
targeting no one.
(perhaps I will expound upon this later…just had to put this out there)
No healthy conversation will ever come from photos like these. We’ll never be able to meet each other in our differences if we are constantly positioned against one another. I want to see you, to know you, to love you…and I want to be seen by you, known by you, and loved by you. This won’t happen if our only relationship is based on photo campaigns like this one, moral nuances, or theological wars.
I decided that I needed to give myself voice in this situation. Without disclosing too much, know that my heart is broken that my family believes firmly that I am a threat to them. Know also, how grateful I am for the family, friends, and allies I have who are able to enter conversation with me in a way that is loving and gracious–even when it is risky.
My prayer today: God, be in the risky conversations! May gentleness and mercy be present as we begin to name our differences instead of fidgeting around them. May we have courage to face one another and hold onto love in the midst of conflict and rough waters that may come in our encounters. May we not forget that we are created in God’s image. May we bless each other in the unknown that awaits us. God, be in our midst, be in our words, be in our thoughts, be the author of our conversations. God, be God.
unplugged…tomorrow
It’s time for a break and for some good music. I think Brandi Carlile will do the trick. See you tomorrow night, Brandi!
Compassionate Living
Compassion manifests itself in the world not by thinking but by doing.
The principle of compassion lies at the heart of all religious, ethical and spiritual traditions, calling us always to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves. Compassion impels us to work tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone ourselves from the centre of our world and put another there, and to honour the inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.
It is also necessary in both public and private life to refrain consistently and empathically from inflicting pain. To act or speak violently out of spite, chauvinism, or self-interest, to impoverish, exploit or deny basic rights to anybody, and to incite hatred by denigrating others—even our enemies—is a denial of our common humanity. We acknowledge that we have failed to live compassionately and that some have even increased the sum of human misery in the name of religion.
We therefore call upon all men and women ~ to restore compassion to the centre of morality and religion ~ to return to the ancient principle that any interpretation of scripture that breeds violence, hatred or disdain is illegitimate ~ to ensure that youth are given accurate and respectful information about other traditions, religions and cultures ~ to encourage a positive appreciation of cultural and religious diversity ~ to cultivate an informed empathy with the suffering of all human beings—even those regarded as enemies.
We urgently need to make compassion a clear, luminous and dynamic force in our polarized world. Rooted in a principled determination to transcend selfishness, compassion can break down political, dogmatic, ideological and religious boundaries. Born of our deep interdependence, compassion is essential to human relationships and to a fulfilled humanity. It is the path to enlightenment, and indispensible to the creation of a just economy and a peaceful global community.
Will you sign the charter?
Thank you, 8thDayPlanner, for passing this on!
this is a life or death stituation
I have recently been asked in a number of contexts and by many different friends how I have been able to even begin integrating my Christian faith and my lesbian affectional* orientation. Most of these friends are genuinely curious and acknowledge their disbelief of how a person like me might be able to hold the extreme pressure and harm caused by the “loving” efforts of the conservative Christian right (e.g., my family, my parent’s church, friends and connections from YWAM, as well as the larger scale efforts of conservative Christian media, etc.). I often wonder about this myself. Others, I find, are not able to allow space in their theological perspective for difference (many times, regardless of the difference, but often specifically a difference in sexuality), so these friends do not ask with sincere curiosity. Though I think that each case is very different, my answer to the question is the same: my faith/sexuality integration has been a matter of life or death. And this is how I explain my answer…I tell my story.
Perhaps, when telling this story, it is best to begin at the beginning…and the beginning starts with suicide. I grew up in the Central Valley of California (comparable to the Midwest in terms of religiosity and culture) in an extremely conservative Evangelical Christian household (although, from my family’s external appearance you’d think my folks were pretty hip and progressive). By the time I was in junior high school I had already had my first girl crush (actually, many) and I was also acutely aware of how sinful these crushes were, and how sinful I, therefore, was. In 7th grade, my church youth group had a series called “Love, Sex, and Dating” (this series is still taught today in the same way) which solidified my belief that I was destined for hell because I was gay. I also knew that I could not tell anyone about this…that I had to get fixed and do it alone. I cannot begin to imagine or count how many of my prayers began with, “God, fix me,” or, “God, you know I want to change,” or, “God, I’ll do anything, just help me to not be gay.” God…did nothing…as far as answering those prayers.
When I was 15 I remember the exact moment that I admitted to myself that I was a lesbian. At that time, I was also steeped in leadership responsibilities at my family’s church and was preparing to co-lead a mission trip to Ensenada, Mexico. Therefore, I re-committed myself to secrecy and also committed myself to purity (celibacy). Although I had dealt with depression throughout my childhood already, I had not known this darkness. I guess it was at that time that I deliberately suppressed my sexuality and buried myself further back in the proverbial closet. I wish that I had experienced the run-of-the-mill teenage angst at that point…but what I dealt with was an internal war fueled by the harmful agenda of my church, my family, and my friends. I joined YWAM when I graduated from high school with two hopes: that I would be able to serve God in missional ministry, and that I might be healed from my homosexuality in the meantime. I was 17.
I was 18 when I first attempted suicide. My second hope was dashed…and in fact I experienced my first substantial crush on one of the other female YWAM staff members. During a short trip home between overseas training and outreach I decided that it would be better for me and for my family, and ultimately that it would be better for God’s work, if I killed myself. I took a large amount of my mom’s pain medication…thank God that it did nothing more than knock me out and relieve me of my back pain. But when I woke up from my deep sleep I was devastated that I was still here, still gay, still stuck in this terribly frightening place. My parents never found out.
I decided to “come out” to my family shortly after that experience. I had left YWAM and was back in the Central Valley of CA after traveling the world. I was alone, lived with my parents and younger sister, and needed my family’s help to stay alive. In six months time I went through seven different ex-gay ministries. I spent most of my ex-gay time with Exodus and (Focus on the Family’s) Love Won Out. I had begun my ex-gay journey when I was 15 through secretly reading a number of books published by these two specific “ministries”. After going through a year of pursuing an ex-gay lifestyle with the help of my family and church, I was prepared to take my life a second time. I was almost 20 when I decided to drive my car off of a cliff along the beautiful highway winding through the coastal hills of CA. I believe God kept me from going through with this plan…God kept me alive. Earlier in the day, I had scoped out a specific curve in the road that I would drive off of…it was a beautiful lookout point…and the whole time I sat there planning this out no other car had driven by, let alone stopped there to take in the sights. When I returned to the curve right as the sun had begun to set, there were four cars parked in the lookout area and many people taking in the glorious view. It was a blockade of angels.
In the last 10 years, if I haven’t attempted suicide, I have definitely planned and thought about the option of taking my life. And doing so because I am gay and because so many Christians declare that God says I am damned to hell. One day, I woke up. I realized that I had already died inside…that my life had been taken, that I was not living anyway, that God had not abandoned or damned me to anywhere…I realized that I had to live.
If I did not begin the hard work of integrating my sexuality and Christian spirituality, I would not be here today. God has been at the core of this work…God has given and sustained my life. The second time that I “came out” to my family I did so not for their help to change or be fixed, but to say that this is who I am. As I began living into myself and my integrated sexuality and Christian spirituality (difficult as it was to do so in the Central Valley), I began to experience life. I have begun to acknowledge God in the fruit of my life and this fruit exponentially and visibly increased as I worked to integrate…my life became defined by love, joy, peace, long suffering/patience, gentleness/kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, and self-control. This is when I began to live.
So, why would I be a Christian and be gay, or be gay and be a Christian? To live. If I cannot have both, I cannot exist. I have to constantly integrate my sexuality and spirituality to be my fullest authentic self. And the pain is worth it if it means that I live life fully.
Okay, so why talk about this? Because this is a matter of life and death for every gay or lesbian Christian; for every sexual minority in the Christian church, this is life or death. Finding statistical data about the suicide rates of LGBT youth is almost impossible still to this day. According to ReligiousTolerance.org,
…most gays, lesbians, therapists, religious liberals and mental health professionals believe that many of the individuals who commit suicide are motivated to end their life by their hatred of themselves as gays and lesbians. This, in turn, is derived from the hatred of homosexuals and homosexuality which permeates society and which they internalized during their childhood.
Considering that:
- Homophobia is largely based on religious beliefs which among Christians are derived from about 6 quotations from the Bible.
- Three out of four Americans identify themselves as Christians
- Most Christian churches have actively taught hatred of homosexuality for decades.
- Conservative Christian churches are currently leading the fight to:
- Prevent gays and lesbians from enjoying rights and protections equal to the general population,
- Prohibit marriages for loving, committed same-sex couples,
- Oppose adoption by gay or lesbian adults, and
- Keep accurate information on sexual orientation out of the public schools.
we estimate that Christian churches are responsible for at least 40% of the homophobia in the United States.
Another way of looking at this is to imagine what would happen to the acceptance of homosexuality in North American culture if all religious institutions were as active in promoting equal rights and acceptance of gays and lesbians as the Unitarian Universalist Association and United Church of Christ have been for many years. After a few decades, children would no longer grow up hating homosexuals. After puberty, when a minority of children became aware of their own homosexual or bisexual orientation, they would accept it as a normal expression of human sexuality. They would be far less liable to commit suicide to avoid a life of same-sex orientation.
Assuming that external and internal homophobia is a main cause of suicide, we believe that churches can be conservatively assigned indirect responsibility for about 496 youth gay/lesbian suicides per year. This rate is greater than the witch genocide rate in Western Europe during the witch burning times in the late Middle Ages and Rennaisance.
If we include:
- suicides by homosexuals over the age of 24,
- youth suicides which are reported as accidents,
- the additional deaths from STDs due to lack of sex-education in the schools (which is often kept out by influence by religious groups and the federal government)
then the churches’ responsibility is much greater.
For more information, refer to The Trevor Project or see Suicide Risk and Prevention for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Youth:
“LGB youth as a group experience more suicidal behavior than other youth. A variety of studies indicate that LGB youth are nearly one and a half to three times more likely to have reported suicidal ideation than non-LGB youth. Research from several sources also revealed that LGB youth are nearly one and a half to seven times more likely than non-LGB youth to have reported attempting suicide. These studies do not include transgender youth.”
How can this not be a social justice issue? How can we continue, as a Christian people, to look the other way when lives are being violently and prematurely taken? How can the conservative Christian church perpetuate this and declare that these suicides are “consequences of the homosexual behavior?” I am sick and tired of this! It has to end. I will not give up my life any more, and I will fight for the lives of LGBT persons who experience suicide as a viable option! Too many young LGBT Christians are dying in the closet. What are we going to do together to make sure that life happens…what will we committ to so that death does not win?
My new prayer: God, show up in the closet! May your angels surround the places of death and desolation that many gay and lesbian Christians find themselves living/dying in. May you give and sustain life when death seems to be the only viable option. May you heal where there are deep and life-threatening wounds and may you free where there is bondage. May you move us to risky action…may you unsettle us in the places we have settled…and may we respond with willing and grateful hearts to do your will. God, may your resurrection speak life where life is not a reality! God, be God.
*affectional orientaion: “Affectional orientation (or romantic orientation) is an alternative term for sexual orientation. It is based on the perspective that sexual attraction/desire is but a single component of a larger dynamic. To holders of this view, one’s orientation is defined by whom one is predisposed to fall in love with, whether or not one desires that person sexually. Lately, the predominant use of the term ’sexual orientation’ is considered to reduce a whole category of desires and emotions, as well as power and connection, to sex.”
definition gathered from the great wikipedia
furor poeticus numerus 9
Not this Wednesday, but the Wednesday next, Luci Shaw will be coming to speak/converse with my theology class. Might I offer that I am ecstatic about this?! So, in the meantime, a little bit of Luci…
The Omnipresence
Reminders flicker at us from
odd angles, nor will she* be ignored;
we sight her in unlikely places,
oaths and dates and empty tombs.
God. Her print is everywhere,
stamped on the macro- and the microcosm.
Feathers, shells, stars, cells speak
her diversity. The multiplicity of
leaf and light says God. Wind,
sensed but unseen, breathes the old
metaphor again. Seasons are her
signature. The double helix
spells her spiral name.
Faith summons her, and doubt
blows only the sheerest skein
of mist across her face.
by Luci Shaw
*In Luci Shaw’s original poem, she uses the male pronouns for God. I have changed it to the female pronouns for the purpose of my blog.
all work and some dissociation
to do list (and why this is the only blog post for a while):
- research paper discussing the development of the capacities to regulate affect and to mentalize as a result of attachment (see Attachment in Psychotherapy by David Wallin)
- research paper for my “sexual disorders” class on my chosen topic of sadomasochism in non-heterosexual women as a consequence/by-product of having some formative experience in conservative Christianity
- ongoing work for my “social justice in practice” class around heterosexism in the realm of MHGS
- preparation for quiz #2 for my theology class: pub quiz style “name that heresy”
- research paper for my “theology” class discussing queer theology
i don’t like to mess around.
