It's Pride month. When I was writing weekly, my post titled "LGBTQ+" received the largest response of all posts. In the time since, I've had powerful conversations with people who loved what I wrote and some who didn't. What I learned is that one of the most important requests we can utter is, "Help me understand." Help me understand why you feel that way. Help me understand what led you to this place. Help me understand your experience. This past winter a bill in South Dakota's legislature sought to regulate treatment for trans kids. During a discussion with a friend who supported the bill that I opposed, she said, "Help me understand how you came to your position." This is how more conversations should go, and I hope I made her feel as valued and heard that night as she made me feel. If not, I am sorry, and I am doing better. That night I began putting together a list of speakers, writers, and theologians who put my convictions into words so much better than I. If you've ever wondered how I and so many other Christians can be LGBTQ+ allies and supporters of open and affirming churches, these resources explain how our faith informs these convictions because we support the LGBTQ+ movement not in spite of what the Bible says but because of what the Bible says. LINKS for LISTENING
LINKS for READING
LINKS for WATCHING If you have more recommendations like these, please post links in the comments. Much love, Gina🌈
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One of my favorite books of all time is John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. Every time I read this classic, I am inspired to lean into community, and there I always find what's sacred.
This idea of community is why I am part of a small, faith-based community, rather than a traditional church. When my community meets, we read Scripture together, we analyze it together, we question it together, and we learn from it together. There's a back and forth between the people as we consider the white space that dances between the words, a gift we receive from Judaism. We do not sit passively to listen to one pastor's insights. We are not satisfied with answers that are quick and expected. In biblical times, faith was analyzed and communicated in community. People didn't have their own Bibles, so they had to hear, discuss, question, and learn together. As a teacher, the most important question I ask my English students is this: "How will you be better for yourself and society because you read this book?" This year, I'm expanding that to all learning. Why are we learning? We are learning so we can help ourselves, and even more importantly, so we can help others. Teachers and students come to school as a community of learners so that we can help our community, and the same is true for my small house church community. We lean into one another with respect and equality, and we lean into Scripture with curiosity and passion, so that we can be better for the larger community, the heart of house church. Let's keep this simple.
That's the church I found after leaving church. Have you ever received this advice?
God's ways are not our ways; that's for sure. Our ways too often bend toward ego, greed, and tribalism. God's ways bend toward compassion, generosity, and a universal community. Despite what too many devotionals told me, "God's ways are not our ways" does not mean that the way we want to solve a problem is always wrong, so just sit back and wait for God to fix it. I've known people, and sadly myself, to pray for years about a problem but to never do the actual work that might solve that problem. We need to have hard conversations. We need to seek and learn from experts. We need to make difficult changes to how we live. An inclination to only pray is especially harmful right now as people pray for an end to racism in our country but don't do the heavy lifting beyond a prayer. If you want to start learning how you can spot and change systemic racism, here are some books and podcasts I've found helpful. Feel free to leave your own recommendations in the comments, as well. LISTENING
Prayer can also turn harmful when it's the only way we support someone in the throes of pain, conflict, or struggle. My friends who do not identify with any faith, as well as a few who do, have taught me best how to help people beyond another common phrase in Evangelese: "I'll pray for you." These friends share space with me, check in on me, listen to me, encourage me, and actually help me. When I hear "I'll pray for you," I appreciate the sentiment, but what I really want to do is hand that person a participation trophy. This is not to say that you should stop saying "I'll pray for you." If you tell me you're praying for me and you also support me in other ways, that's a lot to be grateful for. Not only are you there for me, but you are also welcoming my name into your conversations with God. This is also not to say that we shouldn't pray. Not at all. Prayer is powerful because of what it does inside of us, not just what it might do outside of us. So, let's pray, but let's also act. James 2:14-17 NIV 14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? 15 Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. 16 If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? 17 In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. Sharing my writing has been a vulnerable experience. I've opened myself up for criticism and heard the other side. I've grieved about hurt I caused and retreated into myself to examine what I've done and nurse wounds. Sometimes I'm really sorry that I put my evolving faith out there. My ancestors, German Baptists and Lutherans, would be horrified, I'm sure. Some of my friends were too. And that is why I've written so little in the past year. Writing is inherently a vulnerable and scary act.
To those I hurt, I am sorry for being a source of pain. To those I met because of this blog, I am grateful. I cannot ignore or discount the conversations over coffee and new friendships that emerged because I shared my writing in this blog. In fact, my greatest lesson from blogging for almost a year was that vulnerability is a powerful force, and when people are lovingly vulnerable with one another, that is when the often-quoted verse "where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them" feels real. When people are lovingly vulnerable with one another, that is holy. So, I am going to try writing again. I'm scared, so it might not be much, but I've got a few things to say. |