On Saturday, Joanne and I attended a powerful play. The play was written and directed by a
Monday, February 25, 2008
Seven Passages
Monday, December 24, 2007
The Longest Night
Journal Musings
December 24, 2007
Yesterday we went to a Longest Night service at our church. This service is held annually near the Winter Solstice (longest night). It is designed to bring comfort and solace to those that suffered a loss during the year and are grieving; a very real need for many during the holidays. I was invited because of my father’s death at the end of October. We met in the late afternoon as a very intimate group of quiet mourners.
On the way to the service, Joanne and I encountered a funeral procession turning onto the road in front of us; an extremely rare occurrence but especially so on a cold, wintry, late Sunday afternoon. We followed the mournful procession for 3 or 4 miles. The slow pace gave me plenty of time to think. As I thought about my grieving, I realized that my grief for the loss of my father was just a part of what I was dealing with this year. Grief, like many things, is cumulative in its impact on us. We don’t grieve in isolated partitions but rather with one grief burden to which new grief gets added. The bundle we carry just grows until we are able to deal with it collectively or in bits and pieces..
This past year, I dealt with the grief of loss in many ways: a lost job; a loss of friends; being asked to leave both a church and a small study group; some broken family ties; loss of my former personal and professional identity (no regrets but a gain that does come with a loss); and deaths. The biggest addition to my grief bundle was the death of transgender people who either were brutally murdered or, in despair, took their own life. The hardest for me was the 16-year old boy at whose vigil I spoke. Ian’s tragic passing lingers with me.
In the providence of God, the funeral procession became part of the healing process. There is something about naming our sorrows that helps us begin to deal with them. Experts say that the first stage that we go though in the grief process is denial. Naming our grief enables our steps in finding comfort, because we then know where our need for comfort rests.
The service used Scripture readings, reflections, and hymns to speak to our grief. Our meditation together was framed around the lighting of the Advent candles, but with the candles given a new meaning for those gathered in grief. The candles represented loneliness, regrets, anger, peace and then the Christ candle reminding us of his presence even in the midst – perhaps especially in the midst – of our sorrow. As we sat, I thought of the words from an old gospel song: “I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.” The song is Precious Lord Take my Hand. He has.
As we sat, there were a lot of tears; wellsprings of sorrow that would become seeds of healing. Yes, our collective grief was and is very real but the Longest Night service really isn’t just about the night. Even the darkest, coldest, and longest nights end with a sunrise. Isn’t that what the first Christmas morn was about?
Merry Christmas with much love,
Julie
December 24, 2007
Yesterday we went to a Longest Night service at our church. This service is held annually near the Winter Solstice (longest night). It is designed to bring comfort and solace to those that suffered a loss during the year and are grieving; a very real need for many during the holidays. I was invited because of my father’s death at the end of October. We met in the late afternoon as a very intimate group of quiet mourners.
On the way to the service, Joanne and I encountered a funeral procession turning onto the road in front of us; an extremely rare occurrence but especially so on a cold, wintry, late Sunday afternoon. We followed the mournful procession for 3 or 4 miles. The slow pace gave me plenty of time to think. As I thought about my grieving, I realized that my grief for the loss of my father was just a part of what I was dealing with this year. Grief, like many things, is cumulative in its impact on us. We don’t grieve in isolated partitions but rather with one grief burden to which new grief gets added. The bundle we carry just grows until we are able to deal with it collectively or in bits and pieces..
This past year, I dealt with the grief of loss in many ways: a lost job; a loss of friends; being asked to leave both a church and a small study group; some broken family ties; loss of my former personal and professional identity (no regrets but a gain that does come with a loss); and deaths. The biggest addition to my grief bundle was the death of transgender people who either were brutally murdered or, in despair, took their own life. The hardest for me was the 16-year old boy at whose vigil I spoke. Ian’s tragic passing lingers with me.
In the providence of God, the funeral procession became part of the healing process. There is something about naming our sorrows that helps us begin to deal with them. Experts say that the first stage that we go though in the grief process is denial. Naming our grief enables our steps in finding comfort, because we then know where our need for comfort rests.
The service used Scripture readings, reflections, and hymns to speak to our grief. Our meditation together was framed around the lighting of the Advent candles, but with the candles given a new meaning for those gathered in grief. The candles represented loneliness, regrets, anger, peace and then the Christ candle reminding us of his presence even in the midst – perhaps especially in the midst – of our sorrow. As we sat, I thought of the words from an old gospel song: “I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.” The song is Precious Lord Take my Hand. He has.
As we sat, there were a lot of tears; wellsprings of sorrow that would become seeds of healing. Yes, our collective grief was and is very real but the Longest Night service really isn’t just about the night. Even the darkest, coldest, and longest nights end with a sunrise. Isn’t that what the first Christmas morn was about?
Merry Christmas with much love,
Julie
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
God's Diversity Christmas
God loves celebrating diversity. It began with creation and continues through today. Even Christmas is a celebration of diversity.
The Christmas story is not just about a baby being born – even a very special baby – but it also includes God reaching out to diverse people. Jesus didn’t come as a king, he came in humility as a baby to a poor family. God reaches out to the poor. God did include kings (or wise men) in the story in reaching across diverse cultural and ethnic borders to bring good news to a people that weren’t expecting it. Of course, there were also the shepherds being scared nearly to death by God’s pleasure in surprising us and reaching out to the lowly. Being a shepherd was very close to the bottom of the economic and social ranks of the time. They weren’t trusted (their testimony wasn’t even allowed in the courts!), they didn’t smell good, and nobody wanted to be near them . . . but God.
My blog is titled “Celebrating Diversity”, in part, because I believe that – celebrating diversity - is what God does. God delights in the diversity of humankind; He celebrates the richness of his creation. I believe that includes diversity in sexual orientation, gender, sex, ethnicity, culture . . . even religion (the wise men weren’t Jewish!). When that Divine baby grew and began his public ministry, he demonstrated God’s diversity again and again in reaching out to those the religious of his day wanted nothing to do with. Today many people of faith are catching on and joining God’s celebration of diversity. My heart aches for those that are missing God’s celebration and – in the process – His blessing. They will have to wait until heaven to celebrate what some of us are celebrating now.
So Merry Christmas. Enjoy the wildly diverse songs, gifts, and people that make for a wonderful celebration. Join me in celebrating diversity; it's part of what Christmas is all about.
Warm Christmas Blessings,
Julie
The Christmas story is not just about a baby being born – even a very special baby – but it also includes God reaching out to diverse people. Jesus didn’t come as a king, he came in humility as a baby to a poor family. God reaches out to the poor. God did include kings (or wise men) in the story in reaching across diverse cultural and ethnic borders to bring good news to a people that weren’t expecting it. Of course, there were also the shepherds being scared nearly to death by God’s pleasure in surprising us and reaching out to the lowly. Being a shepherd was very close to the bottom of the economic and social ranks of the time. They weren’t trusted (their testimony wasn’t even allowed in the courts!), they didn’t smell good, and nobody wanted to be near them . . . but God.
My blog is titled “Celebrating Diversity”, in part, because I believe that – celebrating diversity - is what God does. God delights in the diversity of humankind; He celebrates the richness of his creation. I believe that includes diversity in sexual orientation, gender, sex, ethnicity, culture . . . even religion (the wise men weren’t Jewish!). When that Divine baby grew and began his public ministry, he demonstrated God’s diversity again and again in reaching out to those the religious of his day wanted nothing to do with. Today many people of faith are catching on and joining God’s celebration of diversity. My heart aches for those that are missing God’s celebration and – in the process – His blessing. They will have to wait until heaven to celebrate what some of us are celebrating now.
So Merry Christmas. Enjoy the wildly diverse songs, gifts, and people that make for a wonderful celebration. Join me in celebrating diversity; it's part of what Christmas is all about.
Warm Christmas Blessings,
Julie
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Ian's Passing
Last Friday night I spoke as part of a candlelight vigil for a 16-year old transgender boy who took his life. Such moments are never easy, but this one was especially hard for me for two reasons.
The first reason was that on the previous Tuesday I had buried my father. I felt the cumulative weight of these deaths. I will miss my father but, in many ways, his passing seemed right. It freed him from a very painful battle with cancer and released him to heaven. We celebrated his life with fond remembrances of many happy occasions.
Ian – the transgender boy – had a death that seemed premature; like many suicides. He was a gentle, creative, friend of many and had a very supportive family. He had been “out” as Ian for a little over two years. While chronologically quite different, both my dad and Ian were released from pain.
Ian’s pain was not from being transgender; he and his family celebrated how God made him. His pain came from a world that was not ready for him. Many today would still rather cause pain than open their hearts up to people who are different. Sadly many do so from presumed religious perspectives; “presumed” because the hate and shame they seek to voice runs counter to the very teachings of their faith. Ian felt no shame for who he was, but died, in part, from the shame that others thrust upon him.
The second reason that Ian’s vigil was hard is that, like many transgender people, I once stood at the brink of that dark, life-ending precipice. What kept me from passing over was a combination of many people praying for me, my love for Joanne and my boys (and their families), and a new-found resolve that hit me hard at that very moment of destiny. The resolve was to not let hate, ignorance, and discrimination claim another life. The resolve saved me, but did not protect Ian.
The world desperately needs more resolved to not let hate – from whatever source (especially the presumed religious) – keep destroying lives. As we sang “We Shall Overcome” at the vigil, tears rolled down my eyes. I was reminded that the battle against hate has a long history and that more soldiers are needed.
I hope you will be one.
The first reason was that on the previous Tuesday I had buried my father. I felt the cumulative weight of these deaths. I will miss my father but, in many ways, his passing seemed right. It freed him from a very painful battle with cancer and released him to heaven. We celebrated his life with fond remembrances of many happy occasions.
Ian – the transgender boy – had a death that seemed premature; like many suicides. He was a gentle, creative, friend of many and had a very supportive family. He had been “out” as Ian for a little over two years. While chronologically quite different, both my dad and Ian were released from pain.
Ian’s pain was not from being transgender; he and his family celebrated how God made him. His pain came from a world that was not ready for him. Many today would still rather cause pain than open their hearts up to people who are different. Sadly many do so from presumed religious perspectives; “presumed” because the hate and shame they seek to voice runs counter to the very teachings of their faith. Ian felt no shame for who he was, but died, in part, from the shame that others thrust upon him.
The second reason that Ian’s vigil was hard is that, like many transgender people, I once stood at the brink of that dark, life-ending precipice. What kept me from passing over was a combination of many people praying for me, my love for Joanne and my boys (and their families), and a new-found resolve that hit me hard at that very moment of destiny. The resolve was to not let hate, ignorance, and discrimination claim another life. The resolve saved me, but did not protect Ian.
The world desperately needs more resolved to not let hate – from whatever source (especially the presumed religious) – keep destroying lives. As we sang “We Shall Overcome” at the vigil, tears rolled down my eyes. I was reminded that the battle against hate has a long history and that more soldiers are needed.
I hope you will be one.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
A New T Rebellion
In many ways the current T rebellion parallels the revolutionary tea rebellion. Like the Boston rebels, it’s all about a small band of committed people who no longer willingly tolerate discrimination and who go against the idea pushed by the faint of heart and self-absorbed that if we just wait long enough everything will get better. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness were pronounced then as unalienable rights. These rights now seem to be alienable to Barney Frank and the Democratic Party leadership. To them being able to work (life, liberty, and – depending on your job – the pursuit of happiness) are not for T’s (transgender people whose gender identity and/or gender expression are different than mainstream America). The argument that we should “wait awhile and we will come back and get you” was tried in 1776, again in the late 19th century with women’s rights, and, most recently, with the civil rights efforts of the 1960’s. It was a bogus argument every time and still is. Equality should not be a “wait your turn” issue. Frank, Pelosi, et al have shamed their party and all who believe in a just and fair America.
Like many civil rights movements, the outcry has not come from only those most impacted. LGB and civil rights friends have allied with T’s to cry out for a fundamental fairness that keeps the T in equaliTy. Over 200 state and national organizations have made it clear that they do not want a legislation that leaves out trans people. Of all the major organizations only the misnamed Human Rights Campaign has failed to take this position.
Urge your congressional representative to vote yes on an inclusive ENDA (Employment Non-Discrimination Act) and against any legislation that continues to support discrimination against gender expression and gender identity. Pease call or email today.
Like many civil rights movements, the outcry has not come from only those most impacted. LGB and civil rights friends have allied with T’s to cry out for a fundamental fairness that keeps the T in equaliTy. Over 200 state and national organizations have made it clear that they do not want a legislation that leaves out trans people. Of all the major organizations only the misnamed Human Rights Campaign has failed to take this position.
Urge your congressional representative to vote yes on an inclusive ENDA (Employment Non-Discrimination Act) and against any legislation that continues to support discrimination against gender expression and gender identity. Pease call or email today.
Monday, October 15, 2007
On Chasing Lions
The senior pastor at my youngest son's church posted these wise words and beautiful imagery:
Quit living as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death. Set God-sized goals. Pursue God-ordained passions. Go after a dream that is destined to fail without divine intervention. Keep asking questions. Keep making mistakes. Keep seeking God. Stop pointing out problems and become part of the solution. Stop repeating the past and start creating the future. Stop playing it safe and start taking risks. Expand your horizons. Accumulate experiences. Enjoy the journey. Find every excuse you can to celebrate everything you can. Live like today is the first day and last day of your life. Don't let what's wrong with you keep you from worshiping what's right with God. Burn sinful bridges. Blaze a new trail. Criticize by creating. Worry less about what people think and more about what God thinks. Don't try to be who you're not. Be yourself. Laugh at yourself. Quit holding out. Quit holding back. Quit running away.Chase the lion.
Posted by Mark Batterson on his blog on 10/15.07. http://www.evotional.com/2007/10/lion-chasers-manifesto.html
Quit living as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death. Set God-sized goals. Pursue God-ordained passions. Go after a dream that is destined to fail without divine intervention. Keep asking questions. Keep making mistakes. Keep seeking God. Stop pointing out problems and become part of the solution. Stop repeating the past and start creating the future. Stop playing it safe and start taking risks. Expand your horizons. Accumulate experiences. Enjoy the journey. Find every excuse you can to celebrate everything you can. Live like today is the first day and last day of your life. Don't let what's wrong with you keep you from worshiping what's right with God. Burn sinful bridges. Blaze a new trail. Criticize by creating. Worry less about what people think and more about what God thinks. Don't try to be who you're not. Be yourself. Laugh at yourself. Quit holding out. Quit holding back. Quit running away.Chase the lion.
Posted by Mark Batterson on his blog on 10/15.07. http://www.evotional.com/2007/10/lion-chasers-manifesto.html
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Community and Integrity
Donna Rose’s beautiful, passionate, and heartfelt resignation letter from her position on the board of the Human Rights Campaign (Rose Letter ) begins with two words: “Community.” and “Integrity”. She writes of her hurt and sense of betrayal as well as her ongoing commitment to equality and basic human rights. It is an outstanding letter from the hands, heart, and mind of a very beautiful person.
Part of Donna’s beauty is her focus on the community and integrity which are such core values for the LGBT equality movement. It is a movement – with rolling momentum in both governmental and corporate halls of power – but, a movement that becomes shallow, cold, and cynical without community and integrity.
All of us have a desire to belong; to be in a sharing and caring relationship with others. We want to be in community. Many of us have lost communities: family, friends, churches, jobs in the coming out process. At the time, the losses seemed fathomless in the void they left. Many are still working through some of that pain. Yet, we have found new communities of love, hope, and faith that a better future is possible.
In the last few weeks I have been at two different events: the largest conference in the country for transgender people and a large state dinner for LGBT people and their allies. The pervasive sense of love and belonging – of family – at these gatherings confirms the sense of belonging and “rightness” in our openness and, for some, “outness” to the world about who we are. Our sense of family, our community, comes from our shared integrity.
The sense of oneness and wholeness that comes from seeking to live a life of integrity does not replace the losses we feel. We still grieve losses, but our new community and the energizing power of integrity not only “get us through”, but they bring love, laughter, and peace to our lives. As corny as it sounds, this integrity is about “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. These core American values are what bring passion to our movement. They are inalienable rights for all . . . even us. That is why ENDA deserves your unwavering, whole-hearted, inclusive support.
Thanks Donna.
Part of Donna’s beauty is her focus on the community and integrity which are such core values for the LGBT equality movement. It is a movement – with rolling momentum in both governmental and corporate halls of power – but, a movement that becomes shallow, cold, and cynical without community and integrity.
All of us have a desire to belong; to be in a sharing and caring relationship with others. We want to be in community. Many of us have lost communities: family, friends, churches, jobs in the coming out process. At the time, the losses seemed fathomless in the void they left. Many are still working through some of that pain. Yet, we have found new communities of love, hope, and faith that a better future is possible.
In the last few weeks I have been at two different events: the largest conference in the country for transgender people and a large state dinner for LGBT people and their allies. The pervasive sense of love and belonging – of family – at these gatherings confirms the sense of belonging and “rightness” in our openness and, for some, “outness” to the world about who we are. Our sense of family, our community, comes from our shared integrity.
The sense of oneness and wholeness that comes from seeking to live a life of integrity does not replace the losses we feel. We still grieve losses, but our new community and the energizing power of integrity not only “get us through”, but they bring love, laughter, and peace to our lives. As corny as it sounds, this integrity is about “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. These core American values are what bring passion to our movement. They are inalienable rights for all . . . even us. That is why ENDA deserves your unwavering, whole-hearted, inclusive support.
Thanks Donna.
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