I was told that my body was not to be trusted. That she was a stumbling block, that her desires were evil. I wasn’t told that I am made from stardust. Carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus and sulfur— God took dirt and dust and breath and made a human being. I wasn’t told how our bodies connect us to the universe and each other. Bone of bone, flesh of flesh, our bodies are roots deep in the soil of the earth. In an individualistic world where you were taught that the only point was to buy your ticket to heaven and try to get others to do the same, you miss out on the heavens that are here and now. As Jesus said, the Kingdom of Heaven is among us, within us. When everything I knew crumbled beneath me like ancient stone, and I fell from the community with which I had been aligned, my spiritual homeland, I found myself in a new constellation. One that looked so much more like freedom, where I could bring my full self, and see that Divine image in others, the shining of stardust, the glory of dirt, all of it named Beloved and Good. We, as the LGBTQ+ community and its allies, live into this blessing: we find each other in our wandering, in our desires for companionship, seeing each other for who we truly are, fully known. May we all remember how loved we are, and how beautiful it is when we constellate, united by something greater than ourselves.
This poem/blessing/prayer (because these days I don't make much of a distinction between the three) was written for Equality Loudoun’s very first Interfaith Pride Service (Loudoun is my home county in northern VA and EQLOCO is the LGBTQ+ community advocacy organization there). The service was hosted at Crossroads UMC, my church back in VA (I just happened to attend an EQLOCO info meeting in March and when they said they needed a location, I immediately asked Crossroads and they were thrilled). Although the turnout was small, it's a good start to EQLOCO's growing work of engaging with faith communities. I sang "Unruly Heart" from The Prom, and shared this poem. I really enjoyed the contributions of the other speakers as well, such as Ursa's, a Unitarian Universalist pagan reflection on ancestors and wanting to be a good ancestor for the queer kids who will come after us, and Rabbi Neil Tow's reflection/blessing on rainbows and new creation.
Since it was an interfaith service, I wanted to, while still bringing up elements of my faith tradition (I am very Jesusy so I gotta mention him at least once), also focus on something that we could all relate to—we have bodies, and we live in a beautiful, complex universe. The title and the first few lines are actually ideas I had back when I thought my senior honors thesis was also going to include poetry (lol, I did not have time or space for that), and then it finally came into place for this service. It’s the first full poem I’ve written since undergrad.
Being rooted in my body and the rituals of Christian community is what sustains my spirituality and the work that I do. I don’t really pray much on my own or read my Bible lately, but I go to church every Sunday and I serve in the choir and Sunday School and I am connected to God in my interactions with others, in the bread and the cup, and the words we speak and sing as one, lifting into the air. In the doing of these rituals and in the work of justice, I believe, and feel the Holy Spirit guiding me. I am part of something greater than myself, the beloved community of God that is here and not yet, the manifestations (not that self-help guru manifesting lol) of a new, restored reality—and this reality includes justice for the earth and her creatures1. I see this in LGBTQ+ spaces too, whether they are religious or not. Our desire for communion with our full selves, with each other, and the divine leads us into transformative community.
There’s another prayer that I feel like has a similar vibe to this, The Blessing by Kevin Garcia2 (on Semler’s Thank God for That EP), and that is what I will leave you with:
“Jesus said he chose the weak things of this world to shame the strong, foolish things to shame the wise, and I think he chose queer folks, in this world, to shame the system. To demonstrate that nothing in all creation, not things past nor things to come, powers nor principalities, angels nor demons, and not the GOP nor my own queerness can get in the way of the love of God for anyone and everyone.
Your queerness is not a scarlet letter of shame. It is your birthright of joy. You are chosen. You are loved. You arе holy. And God loves you.
Because God lovеs you. Because God loves you. Because God loves you. Because God loves you. Because God loves you. Because that is who God is.
And I know God loves you because I do. And I know God loves me because you love me. And if we remember that, we will not only survive, we will save the world.”
What makes you feel the most alive in your spirituality and the work you feel called to do? How do you take part in God’s dream for this world?
This week, for one of my classes, I started reading Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, where she combines scientific knowledge with her Indigenous knowledge and what she has learned from plants. Her vision of how we can reimagine our relationship to creation is so beautiful. What if we saw nature as a gift and not something to dominate and own?
Who is the next guest on Reclaiming the Garden, episode out 10/25!!! Dreams do come true, it felt so surreal to interview them.