The service, pt.1
Content Warning: Conversion Rhetoric, Graphic Language
This last week, my partner and I decided to explore finding a church home together. Religion continues to play an important role in my life so finding a place of worship since moving here, and now with a partner, has been an important step in building my home in Denver.
We both had different religious experiences growing up and into adulthood, yet the red thread of our queer identity has woven similar struggles for us both. We discussed what we are looking for: myself - a place that is affirming and celebrates diversity; him - a place that is also rooted in the Word; both - a place to be challenged in our faith to grow deeper. After some back-and-forth, we settled on a place of worship to try based on past experiences and what we could gather from their website. The style of worship was different than what I was used to, but difference is good and worth exploring. To my surprise, the opening worship was speaking directly to what my soul was longing for. The words filled me with a patience that I have pushed out as I complete school, build a career, and grow into a meaningful relationship. I slowly felt my body relax into the service - feeling that my anxious energy wasn’t needed here. I felt the presence of my partner there. Though I wasn’t focused on their experience, I felt safe knowing he was there and I felt less alone in worship - something I did not realize I had been feeling until that moment.
As the lights raised and people began to take their seats, I took a quick glance around the room to notice that we were (seemingly) the only same-sex pair sitting in the room. The message started as they do - scripture reading - casual joke - then a dive into the Word. The minister challenged their audience that what we practice becomes what we are. As a therapist, I was pretty on board with that. Sure, if I practice seeing the bad, it will become easier for me to see the bad. If I practice negative response cycles, then it’s easer for those to become my (default) patterns of response. As they spoke about relationships I thought, “Yes! How can I practice being a better partner so that I can BE that better partner?” As it relates to my spirituality, the Word affirms that we are known by our actions - not our words. All was seemingly well.
I couldn’t pinpoint this moment exactly for you, but I can tell you how it felt. As the minister spoke, their words were sending subtle cues to my heart that something wasn’t right - I’ve been here before (well, not physically, but this moment) - I know these words too well. The intentional inclusion of race, gender, socioeconomic status, age - the intentional omission of gender identity, sexuality. I became aware that my breathing was short and shallow - with few breaths in between. I’ve felt this message before and, I know, I am about to be hurt. I started counting lights - four pillars on the stage - five lights per pillar - two stand lights upstage - two stand lights upstage. My mind sinking to avoidance.
Then I heard what confirmed my feelings, “We are wrongfully allowing culture to shift what we [Christians] would have considered morally reprehensible ten years ago into something that is celebrated with pride.”
Suddenly, I was in a message about how [practicing] my homosexuality was seating me at the table of the Devil - of lawlessness. I am scoping the room this time - exits - doors - people - who is around me - how many - seated right side center - no one directly beside or behind us - exposed. I want to run because I know what I am hearing is not true - no - how can you say I am seated there - that I am not a child of God? Who are you to bring me into this space? My mind races - here I am again - battling the thoughts of worthlessness and worthiness - the damaging lies I’ve lived before now again at the forefront of my consciousness - “You are not at the table” “Life shouldn’t be this hard” “This pain is a result of your life”.
Every resistance to my identity was affirmed by a stranger I’ve never met.
I feel my partner press into me - I breathe again. These were all messages I heard before - yet I was still in a state of shock, “Am I truly hearing this?” I began counting again - this time the clock - I watched the timer on the screen tick down closer to zero - then into the red (despair) as the speaker continued past their time. They mentioned how a new children’s movie that made a minor reference to their daughter’s lesbian relationship was indoctrinating their child into the lies of the Devil. The message became clearer - I am the person at the table of sinners- I am the reference to the Devil’s lies.
I feel anger - this anger is different though - this anger was from fear. I became hyper aware of my partner next to me. Selfishly, I thought, “I’ve been here, I can handle this- but God please protect him” Wanting to become a blanket I longed to wrap my arms around him- to shield him from a hate that I knew too well. It was a new experience of vulnerability that opened up inside of me that left a rawness. I liken it to that moment I imagine parents feel toward their child when they realize that there is only so much they can shield them from. I remember riding my bike to school one morning with my friend down the street. As we rode, I lost control of my bike, flipping head-first with the bike into the concrete. All was numb, as I asked my friend to get my mom. As I slowly pulled myself together (with the help of a neighbor who happened to be looking for their dog that got out) I see my mother, heels and all running RUNNING down the street to get me. That is the image in my mind as I try to process this vulnerability - recognizing the pain that can exist in this world and wanting to deeply to protect your loved ones from it - to scream at the world for bringing that pain - only to realize that there are moments out of our control. It’s the image I see of God, running to us. To wrap His arms around us in warmth and comfort us from the pain. I continue to sit - to breathe to the best of my ability - with so much out of my control - right now I can breathe.
The message - that logically - could indeed make sense through their conviction in their interpretation of the Word. I think that is the part that also hurts deeply, too. It wasn’t until the minister was speaking about fetuses being ripped from the wombs of mothers did the message finally end. These are the last words I remember from this place. Well over time - the words stopped coming.
He brushes my arm. We leave.
The content of the Service, pt. 2, will focus on the emotional processing following the service and what I would offer as a resource for those trying to integrate their spiritual identity with their sexual/gender identity.
