I am a Christian with Pride

(and the sins of Sodom aren't what we were told)

in memory of Z & R

A few years ago, I received an email from a very distressed mother named Ruth. She didn’t know what to do, as her daughter had recently come out to the family as transgender. This news was totally fine by Ruth, but as the longtime secretary at a nearby conservative church, she knew it was going to make waves.

Single, disabled, and yearning for retirement, Ruth lived a modest life. Her church was the only community she had, and all she had ever known. Ruth worried that if she quit (or was fired from) her job, she’d never land anywhere else. Her skills set, she expressed, was religiously niche.

“Ain’t no churches want a 60-year-old secretary.”

Ruth believed in her heart that God loved her daughter, but she knew that her church disagreed. She was afraid of losing her livelihood and community, but suspected it might be inevitable. Facing poverty or the choice to support her only child, this mom asked me what she should do.

And frankly, I didn’t have a clue what to say. For me, this was unchartered spiritual territory. I too was in the middle of my own deconstruction, having grown up evangelical and conservative. The faulty foundation of my childhood faith had cracks which had grown into chasms.

I couldn’t reconcile what I knew of God’s love with the experiences I had with His people. So, I left the church which had so deeply hurt me. And there I was, just wandering the wilderness.

I wanted so badly to give Ruth some clarity, but that’s not where either of us were. Instead, we developed a special friendship which was nurtured entirely through email. It was nice, having a modern day pen pal. Ruth was kind with a sharp sense of humor. Sometimes we’d go months without a single exchange, sometimes we talked three times a day. But I always, always looked forward to the moments her name showed up in my Inbox.

A few months ago, Ruth sent a significant update that both of us had been praying for. She finally decided to quit her job and leave her lifelong church. The final straw was her daughter being disfellowshipped. She just couldn’t fathom the hate.

“These folks don’t worship the same God that I know. They don’t get how big His love is.”

She was scared, but also incredibly excited. She’d even landed a job. Ruth would be working as an emergency dispatcher. She laughed when I called her a Bad Ass. She mentioned how hard it was going to be, hearing people in distress. But still, she wanted to start saving lives. She kept calling this job her “new ministry”.

Last week, I was wondering how all that was going, so I decided to check on my friend.

RUUUUTHIE!

I hope you are hanging in there. I am dying to get an update on life, your daughter, your incredibly Bad Ass new job! I’ve been thinking of you. Write back soon!

Big hugs,

Mary Katherine

I was still on my phone when her response came through. I opened that message immediately. But as I started reading, I felt my heart sink.

This email wasn’t written by Ruth.

Hello Mary Katherine,

My name is Janet and I am Ruth’s cousin. I am sorry to tell you that she passed away. She died in her sleep last Friday. A celebration of life will be held next week at Memorial Baptist Church. Ruth’s friends and family are welcome to attend. Details of the service are included below.

Take care,

Janet

For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. Surely this was a mistake. I read the email a few more times, trying to make sense of the words. It felt impossible that my friend was gone, that I’d never hear the rest of her story. It felt especially cruel that her life was just changing. For the first time in so long, she was happy.

I wanted to hear about her first shift with dispatch. About her daughter, who had moved to the coast. I wanted to tell her how brave she had been. What a kind and profoundly good mother.

But all of those thoughts were now mine to chew on. To extract whatever meaning remained. The words of encouragement I stored up for my friend would forever remain unspoken.

Next week, Ruth will be laid to rest by the pastor who hurt her family so deeply. I guess she never got around to updating her will to reflect that painful divorce. It makes me sick, to be honest. Imagining her daughter, sitting in one of those pews. Grieving and sharing in prayer with a pastor who treated her like a disease.

When Ruth got the guts to finally leave that church, do you wanna know what the pastor said? I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t “goodbye” or “thanks for 28 years of ministry”.

He said, “We must learn from the sins of Sodom.”

And you know what I think?

This pastor and every other homophobe like him should be taking their own damn advice. Because we absolutely SHOULD learn from Sodom and Gomorrah. If we did, the world would be better. The crazy thing is, it shouldn’t be hard, since the moral of the story is clearly spelled out.

No, I’m serious. If you open the actual Bible, there’s a verse starts with these words: Now this is the sin of your sister Sodom…

Wanna guess what the next words are?

If you guessed “gay stuff” then sit your butt down for some church.

The word of God, y’all. (Thanks be to God.)

Ezekiel 16: 49-50

`Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me. Therefore I did away with them as you have seen.”

Please, Pastor. I think we are all wanting the world to learn this big lesson you’re preaching. Please, point to the place in this verse that gave you the audacity to hurt my friend, Ruth. Cause I’m just looking for the specific line that commanded you to condemn God’s children. I keep reading this story over, and over, and my man…

I think you and your church are the bad guy.

This story is not about some ginormous gay party. It’s about something else, entirely. About haughty people who looked down on the poor and who were unconcerned with the plight of the marginalized.

My friend dear friend, Father Nathan Monk wrote about Sodom last week, and so perfectly captured my thoughts:

“The real Sodomites are not the queer community but all of those who reject the immigrant, despise the poor, and are more concerned about wealth than goodness…who does that sound like?”

Ruth, I believe, is finally at peace. Safe and sound from the clutches of pain. That’s the solace that I am trying to cling to. I can’t stomach her story, otherwise.

In my mind’s eye, Ruth went to bed peacefully and woke up at the pearly gates. Where I like to believe she received a very colorful welcome. It’s Pride Month, after all. The streets of gold flooded with sparkling smiles, rainbow flags, and all of God’s children.

All of them.