Holiday seasons, including Holy Week and Easter, are generally tough for everyone. For many of us in the LGBTQ+ community, holiday seasons can be even tougher, but on the other side of our deepest heartache lies our deepest breakthrough. This is because what we cannot hold alone forces us to either go mad, or go to God.
My journey to self-acceptance as a brown queer God-loving woman has been a long one, with many hurdles and wrong turns. I was raised as a non-denominational Christian.
LGBTQ Jews have long been on the front lines, fighting for social justice. We are found on every page of the LGBTQ movement, from Harvey Milk, the first openly gay person to be elected to office in California, to Avram Finkelstein, who co-founded the AIDS advocacy group ACT UP.
A Pastoral Letter to the PCUSA: For some time, the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. (PCUSA) has been working to reflect in the life of our church the place of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer people (LGBTQ) in God’s heart. This is all good. It is also a process.
For some people, religion has no influence their way of living. For others, religion is as important as breathing. Whichever way you experience religion, there’s no denying that it is a main topic of discussion, from the media to family dinner tables.
An open letter to white people of faith:
At every point in the history of the United States there have been people whose faith has provided the bedrock for lifelong efforts to end violence, oppression, and inequity—Dorothy Day, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Bishop Gene Robinson—and there have been others who have used their religion as a weapon to further these same forces; to maintain the oppressive status quo rather than challenge it.
Dear friends and colleagues,
There are few things certain in life, but change is certain. Today I am writing to share a significant change in my ministry and why this shift is critical.
Only for a moment, was it an unmatched statistic.
When 49 people were gunned to death in what was for some – the only safe space where they could be themselves; we watched, cried, and prayed in horror. But only for a moment did that stand as the largest mass slaying of Americans targeted by an “active shooter” actively engaged in unleashing a fusillade of bullets into a crowd of people in a confined space. Only for a moment.
The holidays can be the toughest time of the year. We expect warm nostalgia, celebrations—both sacred and secular—overflowing with family warmth and bonding. For queer people estranged from their families of origin, this can be doubly difficult. Grief, too, can be one of hardest things to deal with around the holidays.