Queering The Scriptures

Across the United States, Pride  month is celebrated during the month of June (even though Spiritus is going to have our Pride liturgy in July). It is meant to be a month-long celebration of the enduring presence, contributions and joy that members of the LGBTQIA+ community bring to our world.  The first Pride marches took place in 1970 and were meant to coincide with the anniversary of the Stonewall uprising in 1969 (which helped to catalyze modern struggle for LGBTQ+ liberation and human rights). Note: There is a local commemoration of Stonewall on Sunday, June 28 from 1 – 3pm that we are encouraging people to attend.

Throughout this month, we will be using the Monday blog to amplify Pride-related themes, reflections and experiences.

In our first reading today from 1 Kings 17, the nation of Israel has gone astray and its leadership is engaged in practices that go against God’s desires. Elijah the prophet announces that there will be a drought in the land. God directs Elijah to “hide in the Wadi Cherith” (a seasonal brook) where “ravens brought him bread and meat” in the morning and evening and where he “drank from the stream.”

This is a remarkable story at so many levels.

In recent years, the phrase “queering” our perspective has emerged as a way of noticing and uplifting what does not fit in with social expectations, that which exists at the margins and that which crosses traditional boundaries. Reading the text from 1 Kings 17 in this way we might notice that: Elijah is living on the edge of society by the wadi (as opposed to living in a traditional setting), ravens (very smart birds which were considered ritually ‘unclean’ in ancient Israel) tend to him, and God is present and active in those marginal spaces. 

Queering our reading might also help us to see how Elijah’s experience has been mirrored by the LGBTQ+ community for a very long time. The leaders of the nation (and church) have gone astray allowing prejudice and hatred to prevail. Members of the LGBTQ+ community who understand God’s plan (as prophets) live at the margins – both to be safe and to survive. Mutual interdependence among those who live on the margins is a central dynamic to survival (notice that the marginalized raven is the one who notices and provides for Elijah’s need). And we witness that God is powerfully present on the margins (and powerfully absent in the places of power). 

[Note: And if we read even further in 1 Kings 17, we will hear themes from the readings that show us that Elijah survives through the hospitality of another marginalized member of society (a widow) and becomes part of a household that is neither his biological family nor his kin group (another very common experience of people in the LGBTQ+ community)].

Queering our reading of any passage helps us to surface storylines that might have been forgotten or suppressed. More importantly, it has been the members of the LGBTQ+ community themselves who – as they read and engage the scriptures – help to surface interpretations and connections that revitalize all of us.

Take the gospel for today. 

In our gospel reading from Matthew 5, we hear what are traditionally called “The Beatitudes” or the series of statements where Jesus calls certain groups “blessed.” Of course, Jesus is turning the whole social order on its head because the groups he names as “blessed” are not those whom the world considers blessed. He elevates those who mourn, those who are poor in spirit, those who are excluded or persecuted and says that God has special favor for these people.

So many members of the LGBTQ+ community that I know have read passages like the Beatitudes and have deeply resonated with these words. They know in their bones what Jesus was saying – as institutions like the church – gave hostile and exclusionary messages. They have understood what it has been like to mourn, to hunger and thirst for justice and equality, to be persecuted and insulted. And yet they found ways to “rejoice and be glad” anyway. This is something to celebrate!

It is hard to adequately name and account for the harm that organized religion – and especially Christianity – has done and continues to perpetuate against members of the LGBTQ+ community. While I know many who remain connected to faith circles, I also know many more who distance themselves from faith for their own health and well being. My hope remains that the church at large will continue to listen to the voices of the LGBTQ+ community, work to make amends for past harm and strive to find ways to promote full participation and celebration – not just during Pride month but all year long.

I will close today’s reflection with a rewriting of the Beatitudes by trans Christian performance poet Jay Hulme from his book The Backwater Sermons. His words might offer us a way for us to more deeply enter Pride month.

Blessed are the outcasts;
the ostracised, the outsiders.

Blessed are the scared;
the scarred, the silent.

Blessed are the broken;
for they are not broken.

Blessed are the hated;
for they are not worthy of hate.

Blessed are those who try;
those who transform, who transition.

Blessed are the closeted;
God sees you shine anyway.

Blessed are the queers;
who love creation enough to live the truth of it,
despite a world that tells them they cannot.

And blessed are those
who believe themselves unworthy of blessing;
what inconceivable wonders you hold.