Rejection, shame, and loneliness are common feelings many of us in the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community have experienced, especially after coming out. These are feelings we have encountered from people’s reactions in our churches, families, and circles of friends. What would be the opposite?
LGBT saints are important because people are searching for alternative ways to lead loving lives. Churches have tried to control people by burying queer history. The LGBT saints show us not only their place in history, but also our place—because we are all saints who are meant to embody love. We can tap into the energy of our ancestors in faith.
My feelings about “allies” to the transgender community are complicated. Sometimes this "ally" concept seems really powerful to me, and other times, it just seems like another shallow label.
Sometimes the way we talk about "allies" feels insightful and important. Sometimes our language feels rigid and inadequate.
“I’m going to love you till I don’t love you no more…” So sang a song from the speakers in The Sports Connection, my gym when I lived in West Hollywood.
I spent last year teaching ethics at a community college in rural East Tennessee. I divided the semester not chronologically, but philosophically. The first half of the class posed the question, “How should I act?” The second half asked, “How should I be?” The division is one between ethics of conduct and ethics of virtue.
There are many reasons I remain Baptist, despite having to always explain myself to those who fail to see the fit between my identifications as a queer person and a Baptist minister. “Well, I’m probably not the kind of Baptist you imagine,” I say.