Sometimes, people will ask me why I need a word for being asexual.  They will ask me why it even matters. They will ask me why it is included under the LGBTQ+ umbrella.  After all, it's not like asexual people are getting discriminated against, right? And I want to start by saying that suffering is not comparative. All pain matters.  The biggest struggle I have had as an asexual person is continually being doubted. I am not believed, not by Christians, not by non-Christians, not by anyone. Several years ago, I was at the doctor's office getting some shots, and they wanted to give me one to protect against STDs.  I told them I was asexual and had no plans to be sexually active.  The doctor looked both ways in the empty room, leaned close to me, and said, "Honey, I'm not your mom. You can be honest." Our world is so saturated by sexualized things that most people don't seem to even be able to comprehend that someone like me exists.  Even when I'm standing right in front of them explaining myself, they're still sure I must be confused!  I just haven't met the right person, clearly. 

It was almost Lent, and Pastor Mary was answering a question she often heard from students: Why does Easter even matter? And to put a much finer point on that question, What does Jesus’ resurrection have to do with something that matters a lot to us, like sex?

Well. Hold my grape juice. 

One of the most central resurrection texts we have in the New Testament is 1 Corinthians 15. It’s like Paul’s “ICYMI (in case you missed it) before we’re done here” moment: if Christ’s resurrection isn’t for you and if it doesn’t change absolutely everything for us in this life and in the next—then we’re all liars, our ministry is useless, your faith is meaningless, and all we can look forward to is death.

Both Christian churches and associated parachurch ministries have long been mostly concerned with intervening in the sexualities of men when it comes to same-sex attraction. This particular pressure on men and anxiety around men’s appropriate masculinity creates a discrepancy around men’s and women’s involvement in ex-gay, reparative, and sexual orientation change “therapies.” For some, this can seem like a rare privilege that women have over men in the Side B community, but this privilege has its own drawbacks.

Some of the experiences commonly reported in women’s affinity meetings at Revoice and in the recent women’s survey is how the heavy expectation/assumption that girls are straight, that they will be married, and that they will be biological mothers makes it more difficult for many women to discern their own desires and attractions. The refusal to see women as sexual beings in many Christian circles not only hinders the development of healthy sexuality for married straight women, but also creates mental, emotional, and spiritual hurdles for women to recognize when they are attracted to other women.

My first in-person experience [at Revoice] in St. Louis was overwhelming. I didn't expect there to be so many men, rooms felt loud, I didn't know who to sit with, and I recall the newcomer breakout session during lunch the first day was a circle of chairs composed of nearly 30 white men. I was enjoying the content of the conference, but felt on edge… 

Thankfully I met two other gals that I got to hang out with the rest of the time–that made a huge difference… we have since become friends and keep in touch. But, we literally met over her asking me how I was doing and me saying, "Can I be real for a second? There are so many men here!!" — Anonymous response to Revoice’s survey to LGBTQ/ SSA women

So, Lent. It’s not in the Bible. Or is it…? 

OK, technically no. But the elements are all in there: ashes, confession and repentance, 40 days, fasting, palm branches, deepening our study of Scripture, and many more. Lent is a season of walking with Jesus on his way to the Cross and Resurrection. 

But what does this season mean for us? Are there unique ways LGBTQ+ Christians can celebrate Lent? Oh honey, I only have 500 words here. So let me just offer a short list of Side B ways that queer folk can Lent it UP.

I offer that by responding to God’s love in worship and prayer, by not waiting for the approval of institutions to act in the interests of the people around us, by establishing God-honoring and human-honoring boundaries about the types of treatment we will receive, and by knowing how we will (and won’t) respond–and honoring those boundaries with ourselves–we cultivate the same kind of agapic energy that sustained Civil Rights Movement leaders like Fannie Lou Hamer. This was an energy that could not be sapped by the lack of support from fellow Believers, and, in time, even drew some into relationship and resistance at long last.

Love is the foundation of our relationship with God. It is not merely an attribute of His nature—it is who He is. Every action of His toward us is motivated by love. From the moment He formed us in our mother’s womb to the moments we feel furthest from Him, His love remains constant, unwavering, and relentless. His love won’t fail us.

As you start the New Year, plant your feet in the hope of Christ, and receive this blessing:

May you find the moxy and verve to smile in places designed to scare you.

And now join me in this toast: 

And in the end

Death died,

And we survived.

Christ reigns,

And we have life!

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.

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).