Sundays with (or without) Esther, but always with God:

Earlier this summer, I made a decision. I would not be attending any more Sunday services at the church I had been trying to faithfully attend the past two or three years. This has been a long journey. As I went church hopping for a few months last year to find another church. Yet I kept going back to this church.

(note: they/them/theirs pronouns for God and Jesus)

Dear local church,
You provided me with a handful of friends who I now consider almost family. These humans are more or as much family to me as my biological family. They are important to me, as they support me, cry with me, and laugh with me. These are people who remind me of Jesus, and show me what it looks like to love like Them. 

In the midst of creating my own family of friends, I felt a connection with a human that I knew was none other than love. It was electric. And, more than a few years later, we are still together. 

Unfortunately, it seems this relationship has been the pitfall of my relationship with this church. It has kept me from pursuing the roles and responsibilities I so long within a church. As a young adult who grew up within a church setting, it has been difficult continuing in a church in which I could not serve in. Earlier this summer, the sermon was on the movie Green Book. This movie surrounds the institutional racism around a pianist who performs within the southern belt of the United States. During the sermon, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the injustices within the church. As a queer woman in a committed relationship, I have been told I cannot serve. As a queer woman, I have had to see my partner pull back from having responsibilities within the church, and mourn those losses. As a queer woman, I face discrimination within what I thought was my own community in my city. 

Dear greater non-affirming churches,

I feel the church is afraid of my boldness. I fear the church thinks I am a heretic trying to convert others into my perceived lifestyle. I fear the church thinks I cannot have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ due to my relationship with my partner. But, the greater issue is this. So many queer Christians tend to doubt their faith. I have seen so many even wonder if they are worthy of such a relationship with Christ. Yet, I have also seen so many queer Christians have a thriving spiritual life. It is these people, whom I identify with, that have the healthy and strong relationships. It is because they have had to ask questions and raise their doubts in no other form than prayer as their outlet. I stress each relationship with God is that of individuals. It is not for others to doubt or judge other than God. I am acting in the way of which I have learned through scripture: to love, fully love my siblings, which include my queer siblings and self. This is all I know. 

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I want the church to understand, my relationship with Christ Jesus is a two way relationship. I want the church to understand that my relationship with God has shown me more of what They look like and has opened my eyes to live as such being kingdom centered. I want the church to understand, I believe queer Christians have a more unique relationship with God than they think.

We are discriminated against. We are told God does not love us. We are the victims of violence whether physical or emotional, or both. And yet we stand tall. I see Jesus within queer communities as we are beaten down as they were. So many of us (queer folx) face the reality of having to prioritize our mental health due to the subjugation of others. We are constantly being told who we are, what we are not, and what to do at the expense of our own selves. 

This past Summer marks the day I decide to stand up to this discrimination. I thought I could spark change within the community, but it has come to cause more emotional damage on my self than I can bear. I am tired. I am weary. I feel as I have been beaten down. How can I not focus on my queer identity when most of the churches around me choose to see that in me first? I long to be seen as a simple believer who wants to grow in her & their relationship with God. Not firstly as a woman who "chooses" to do wrong daily. I choose nothing less than living out my life as a daughter of Christ. I choose to love and lift up others every day even when it may be self-damaging. I choose to latch onto my God who is ever present, all perceiving, and all knowing. They are the rock I hold onto instead of the disgruntled voices I hear. 

Fortunately, I have been a part of another community: another church that has already wrestled with the scriptures that I have. This is a people group who love unconditionally, as I perceive Jesus did and as They do now. Although I have spent a proportionately shorter time with these people, I feel at home*. I look forward to serving (and being able to serve) in a community that is for me and those who have been subjected to harm from many other church and christian communities. I have found a church who truly loves their neighbors. 

I hope the greater church communities will soon open their eyes to the injustices they are partaking in by either verbally speaking against, or choosing not to speak for the people groups who are hurting and in most need of the church. 

But once again, it is not of my will, power, or calling, to do so within these non-affirming churches.

Spoken with truth,

Esther