In closing, I want to briefly share some of Sam’s story (not his real name). Sam attended our annual conference for the first time last year. Before then, he had started the journey of coming out to those around him who were important to him. He knew that faithfulness to Jesus meant that he needed to embrace celibacy. Attending our annual conference gave him a vision for a form of communal living in the context of his local church that could be a source of life for him. Challenges remain, and it hasn’t always been easy, but Sam is committed to walking out the obedience he feels called to pursue as he follows Jesus.

While Revoice may have initially been birthed from pain, God has redeemed and repurposed our challenges into something unimaginably precious and life-giving. And He's not done yet. Thank you again for all you’ve done and will continue to do to build something beautiful with us.

In Advent, we reflect on Jesus' incarnation as the hope that comes to find those who sit in darkness. Perhaps Mary was the first to fully experience this: exhausted, in pain, finding a place to lay her newborn. I imagine she squints in the dim light, leaning over to behold Jesus' face. Did that voice still echo in her mind: "We have no place for you?" God meets her not just in human like-ness but on a dark, difficult night.

Sadly, many gay and same-sex-attracted Christians have a complicated relationship with the word “change” because of the ex-gay movement. For many many years, the phrase “change is possible” was the official mantra of the ex-gay movement. Ex-gay leaders weren’t referring to something relatively meaningless, like changing the cereal we like to eat for breakfast. They were referring to the aching hearts’ desire of many gay kids every night: to wake up the next day and be straight… be normal.

Have you ever felt inadequate or as if you're just going through the motions of prayer and Bible study? It's important to remember that God is in the process of lifting our feelings of inadequacy at this very moment. He values our efforts and calls our hearts daily to remind us of our worth.  Fruitful activity flows from the heart, not just by actions alone but by resting in His presence. Take some time with God to examine your heart. Allow him to revitalize you and give you a moment's rest from the busyness of life.

Nehemiah doesn't really know how to tell a good story when he's writing. Before reading and rereading this book in preparation for our conference, all I could have said about him was that Nehemiah was a cupbearer to a foreign king before he left to build the wall of Jerusalem for the Israelite exiles in need and succeeded in his efforts. Now that's good story-telling: character and setting introduction, conflict and purpose, then resolution. Except Nehemiah doesn't do that. 

What if God is asking you to move forward, but you hesitate—even though, deep down, you know it’s necessary? That’s where I am. Sometimes, it feels like I’m the only one wrestling with this, but maybe you’ve been there, too. This season of my life is like the changing colors of autumn leaves: some things need to fall down so new life can emerge. A dear friend once compared my journey to leaving Egypt and stepping into the desert.

Like Nehemiah, I look at our community, and I say, "They are your servants and your people, whom you redeemed by your great strength and your mighty hand." (Nehemiah 1:10) What, then, will God build in us and through us? That's what we'll explore at Revoice25.

God, who possessed the whole world, chose to sell everything because he was madly in love with me, and with you. Jesus poured out on the Cross and pours out still in the Eucharist his entire self, body and blood, soul and divinity, for us. This shocking knowledge, should we choose (by God’s grace) to accept it, is the seed in our hearts that grows the pearl of Love.

It’s the beginning of August. The next school year is around the corner. For those who attended Revoice24, the excitement and energy of the conference have worn off. We’re back to normal. Sometimes, normal is hard, especially for sexual and gender minorities navigating their place in the Church. The place we’re supposed to come home to, to be known in, doesn’t know how and sometimes doesn’t care how to treat us with the dignity we deserve.

I'm a hopeless romantic, and I grew up on Disney films about how finding your true love is the key to unlocking your happily ever after. This was further confirmed on Sundays when the pastor would tell us that next to the day of his salvation, his wedding day was the happiest day of his life. If I had a beautiful partner who I loved and was obsessed with and who truly loved and was obsessed with me, too, how could I not finally be fulfilled? When I see an attractive man at the gym, on the subway, or on social media, I can't help but see him as the answer to my longings. What I continually have to remind myself is that this is fantasy.

Hannah taught me that the very site of my seeming brokenness would actually be the place where I could become a fruitful gift to the Kingdom of God. Where I used to lament and mourn my queerness exclusively, I am now learning to see it as a kind of gift and blessedness. I am reminded of the promise of Isaiah 56 to eunuchs, who were considered a kind of gender and sexual minority in the ancient world: "To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose what pleases me and hold fast to my covenant— to them I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that will endure forever."

Actually, though, Adele was not royalty. While she was certainly a prominent figure in Austrian society during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, she was nevertheless an "ordinary" woman.

Or was she? Like every precious human being created in the image of God, Adele beautifully reflects the royal image of our Creator. Moreover, no matter how "ordinary" a person might seem, all we who are in Christ are God's masterpieces (Ephesians 2:10).

Years later, I would ask him what madness convinced him to put me on a stage when he was such a great preacher. He answered, “There’s too much work for any one person, and you have the same Holy Spirit I do.”

You have the same Holy Spirit I do… that stuck with me.

My pastor was modeling for me what Jesus is teaching his followers in Matthew 9. The work of the Gospel is big, necessary, and too much for any one person to do… so God’s Spirit is constantly working in God’s community, raising up new shepherds.

I serve in my local church not because I am trying to prove anything to myself or others. Not to earn love or to make up for being queer. Not to be the gay hero or the youth group leader that I needed. Not to rescue or because I feel like it is all on me…okay sometimes I serve because of that, but that's where my therapist comes in (thanks, Jessie). I serve from a place of freedom, of knowing that God not only wants to use my strengths but also my messiness for His Glory in my church. Because my God delights in the messiness. What if you believed this, too? Because then you, too, might have a 9th grader think that you are "literally the coolest."

It makes me think of some of the resistance that so many in the Revoice community have faced, along with all faithful LGBTQ+/SSA siblings in Christ who have chosen to embrace the historic Christian sexual ethic. Even despite their faithful devotion, many in our community are still looked upon with suspicion and alarm by some members of the wider Christian religious establishment. Honestly, this pains me. Very, very deeply.

I've been thinking a lot about what Michelle wrote last month in the Conference Newsletter, especially the "contradictions" in the Sermon on the Mount. I keep wondering, "How Jesus might preach his Beatitudes of Matthew 5 to our Revoice community?" The word beatitudes means blessed or even “the good life,” and it makes me wonder, how is the “Side B” community uniquely blessed by Jesus.

It is no secret that so many LGBTQ+/SSA disciples have withstood trauma, disappointment, and significant confusion about their place in God's story. This masterpiece serves as a clarion reminder that Jesus has been with you throughout every moment of suffering. Although God's plan may be unfolding differently than you imagined, God is actively writing a larger cosmic story in which you play a crucial role.

He is risen! He is risen, indeed. Happy Easter to you all.

Spring in North America is a time for planting seeds and seeing new shoots emerge from the ground. I don’t have my own garden or much of a green thumb, but I am very proud that I’ve managed to keep my fiddle-leaf fig tree alive (so far).

Lately, Jesus’ parable about planting seeds has been on my mind:

With all that in mind, I don't fault a church that asks me to get coffee when I seek clarity on their beliefs. In fact, I understand and assume that the pastor is meaning to offer me more effort and kindness, believing I deserve better than an email.

But it seems like sometimes my pastor friends feel torn between offering me clarity or kindness as if the two are mutually exclusive. But as the modern sage Brene Brown says, "Clarity is kind."

If you aren't already familiar with Henry Ossawa Tanner, I highly encourage you to meet him. He was one of the most highly-regarded African-American painters of the nineteenth century–without question a challenging time for a Black artist. Tanner is best known for his paintings of African-American life as well as his striking renditions of biblical scenes. In his generation, his perspective as a Black Christian artist was utterly unique.