Our Prodigal God

We are all familiar with the story of what has become known as the “Prodigal Son.” The focus of the story is always on the younger son, as indicated by the title. However, at the mass at my home parish of Holy Nativity, Rev. Aimee shed new light on the parable. She shifted the focus from the son to his father. The word ‘prodigal’ means ‘extravagant.’ If we think of this word as describing the father, as opposed to the younger son, it then becomes a parable about God’s extravagant love. Keep that in mind while reading the rest of this entry.
So when Jesus tells a parable that reflects a kingdom in which the return of someone lost renders a feast and unconditional acceptance, it is not taken well by those who criticize Jesus for keeping company with those which the ruling class has deemed “unworthy.” In many ways, the Pharisees in Jesus’ time were like the elder brother. However, the love and kingdom of God supersedes human standards of judgment, and thus, the father in the story welcomes, with unrequited love, the return of his son. As LGBTQ persons, there are times when it may seem more advantageous for us to simply leave our Christian identity behind us. Many times, Christian leaders portray the two identities (LGBTQ and Christian) as being incompatible or contradictory. I tried it myself and, like the younger son, found myself empty and alone. Indeed, when I returned to faith and found the Episcopal church, I was welcomed with the prodigal love of Christians who, like the father, accepted me with open arms.
The Gospels consistently portray Jesus as one who associated with “sinners.” This is something with which the Pharisees had a field day in questioning Jesus’ authority and discrediting him to others. Sometimes, even his apostles questioned why he associated with those which society considered unworthy at the time (notably, women and children). However, whenever someone tries to tell Jesus that he shouldn’t be associating with these “sinners,” Jesus always rebukes the person with a norm defying response.
As queer Christians, this is something especially liberating. Jesus made his home with those on the fringe of society; he did so without apology while defending those in places where often times, we find ourselves. Jesus defends us as well, with the prodigal love of the father in this parable. So when Psalm 32 sings the salvation of “those whose transgression is forgiven" (verse 1). In reading the psalm, connections with the Parable of the Prodigal Son emerge. God’s grace resides not in our moral ability to repent but in God’s free embrace of us, whatever our circumstances. This is the pattern we also see in Jesus’ ministry.
Israel’s sacred story recalls enslavement in Egypt and divine deliverance. Joshua 5:9-12 expresses how Israel’s Scriptures never relinquished this humble heritage. Passover celebrates this history as part of Israel’s redemption and salvation. So when LGBTQ persons are excluded, or made to feel like outsiders, by religious communities, those doing the excluding would do well to remember this history as well, for it plays an integral role in the overall history of humanity’s salvation.

Beyond Judgement and Into Salvation

Isaiah 55:1-9; Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; and Luke 13:1-9

A God beyond all comprehension; that is my first reaction when I read these passages. Some people have suggested that the New Testament readings for the Third Sunday in Lent perhaps offer insight to “judgement theology.” Does God punish us for the wickedness of our actions? Was the earthquake in Haiti God’s punishment on the impoverished nation for sinning? The short actions of the second “question” is, of course, absolutely not. And yet, it is amazing how judgement theology has been used to scapegoat “the others” of society. For centuries, Europeans used Matthew 27:25 as justification for anti-Semitic violence. Today, people like Fred Phelps blame LGBTQ persons for bad things happening in today’s world.
Jesus uses the two tragic events as an opportunity to undermine judgement theology. The misfortunes that strike others, or even us, is in no way due to previous sins. I cannot help but think of when HIV/AIDS first became known to the public. Religious leaders had a field day with it, calling the illness “God’s wrath on homosexuality.” So many young men died from what became known as “the gay disease” and so called religious persons saw this as a fit punishment from God for living an “abomination.” So then is lung cancer God’s wrath for smoking? Is breast cancer God’s punishment for being a woman? Of course not.
The question of why do bad things happen to good people is one that has dumbfounded every human since the dawn of creation. But Jesus challenges us to move beyond that question in this Gospel. Blaming the victim or trying to explain the ‘why’ of misfortune does no one any good; it simply provides us with empty excuses to withhold compassion for those who suffer. As usual, Jesus uses these experiences of misfortune as a call to us to turn away from a culture of death and violence, retribution and scapegoating. We are to transcend all of that and be peace bearers to the world.
The whole Book of Isaiah reminds me of my coming to accept my own sexuality. The people to whom the prophet was speaking were a people in exile, forcibly detached from what culturally identified them as God’s chosen- The Promised Land. For many LGBTQ people, we live much of our lives in a sort of internal exile where we are not free to be the persons God created us to be. The prophet in Isaiah calls the exiled Jews out of Babylon and back to Judah, a journey that would not have been very appealing at times. The Jews to whom the prophet was speaking must have felt lost and confused about what God has in store for them. But Isaiah 55:1-9 reassures them that God’s salvation is abundantly extended to all people. It is through our own queerness that we are called to witness God’s radical love, as the prophet mentions in verse 4. What can we reveal to others because of our otherness?
Psalm 63:1-8 shares in that invitation to God’s grace. The psalmist longs so passionately for union with God. For many LGBTQ persons, this ardent yearning is nothing new. Religious fundamentalists make many queer persons feel so isolated from life in God because of our sexuality. Yet, we are not separated from God at all. God lifts us up when we, like the psalmist, are in the wilderness.
Truly, our God is beyond all comprehension. To create us as “others” in the eyes of society not to punish us, but to witness to God’s unwavering love and salvation.

Transformations, Promises and Strength for the Weak

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35 or Luke 9:28-36


Today's readings are a beautiful testimony of of life in God; one the one hand, we hear the Psalmist proclaim his trust in the Lord, on the other hand, we see the uncertainty that also accompanies life in Christ. And yet, woven in these readings is the unwavering persistence and encouragement that defines God's love for us. It is in that love that we are given a life of peace, reconciliation, and radical inclusiveness.
The Transfiguration is a "coming out" of sorts for Christ. Jesus is on his way to his home which, according to Luke and Acts, is Jerusalem, when he calls three of his apostles to the mountain to pray. From the Old Testament, we know mountains to be a place of revelation for the Lord. When they are praying, the Lord transforms himself, revealing his true self. In many ways, this was the "ah ha" moment that Peter, James, and John needed in order for the message of Jesus to make sense for them. As LGBTQ persons, we have our own "ah ha" moment; that moment when we first accept our sexual orientation. When we have that moment, we enter into a more authentic relationship with the Lord. We cannot begin to understand the mystery of the Divine until we begin to understand ourselves. Our own transfigurations occur when we tell our friends and family who we really are. 
At face, in his letter to the Philippians, Paul seems to be calling for conformity. Surely, God does not call us to conformity to human ways. However, Paul reminds us that we must follow in the example of Christ, who served for the salvation of humankind. Paul decries those who use ministry in order to build up their own image. Imitating Paul, which means living in the image of Christ, means considering the needs of our community before considering our own. Reflecting on this, it raises the question: in what ways can our experiences as queer persons be used to benefit our own faith communities? 
The Old Testament reading for this week look back at God's covenant with Abraham. Just as God made a promise to provide descendants for Abraham despite the obvious problem of no offspring God will provide for His queer children. Often times, things that seem impossible in the eyes of human society, are an opportunity for God to work miracles. How can I be a means for God's work of salvation if there are churches that don't accept me? The fact is, with God, works of incredible hope can be worked through all of us. 
Today's Psalm celebrates the complete reliance he has on the Lord. It is in God that those who are cast out and scorned must rely. As queer persons, especially Christians, we often feel excluded, so hearing the Psalmist sing "God is our light and salvation, whom shall we fear" (verse 1) becomes a line of great comfort. Even though we are aware of the real dangers that exist in the world, we must also be aware of the protection of God. 
Because there are some who are forsaken by friends and family, the need for us to foster sacred spaces for all to worship becomes increasingly apparent. In the face of opposition, we can find comfort in the knowledge that the Lord is protecting us in our endeavors as we do the work that we are called to do.