Queerness was (and is) much more than about the gender of people in a relationship – it was about changing everything society expected about race, money, and identity. Queerness also created (and creates) a community where people made sacrifices to protect and encourage others without personal gain. Queerness is embracing the fullness of oneself no matter how that may manifest (or at least an ongoing attempt towards it) as well as how that manifests in relationships with others.

Young people know, in the wake of lockdown and in this current political nightmare, that we really need incarnate community. We are desperate for analog spaces. We live far from our families and miss being a part of intergenerational life. We want a third space that isn’t measuring us for company cuts or expecting a tip. Young folks are actually really hungry for church. The church just had to be ready for us.

Here and now—in the “in between” time of human governance—God’s rule is bracketed. The Lord’s kingship in the past has been rejected and the Lord’s rule in the future is not yet. In this “in between,” God’s rule feels absent, if not altogether impossible. This “in between” is nothing less than a God-shaped vacuum, into which step more and more petty, power-hungry kings and kinglets, queens and queenlets, replete with their entourages made up of foolish, vulgar advisors, all of whom want to fill that vacuum, assume God’s position, arrogate to themselves that kind of authority.

The closeness of the royal palace to the Temple was (and is!) unacceptable to God. That situation can stand no longer. Idolatry, of gods and of powerful human beings, must be put away. The only way for God to reside among the people forever is by enacting “No Kings!” for the same interminable duration.

The truth is, Christians have been subverting and challenging the heteronormative standard for centuries. In fact, it was the early church’s queerness that caused it to grow and spread so rapidly. The earliest Christians were known for their radical acceptance of people from every status, gender, and culture. They were chastised for the ways they redefined family, defied status markers, and cared for the poor and needy.

 America’s revolutionary rejection of oppressive rulers is no doubt why “No Kings!” has been applied to many a political leader ever since the 18th century. But whatever one thinks of this slogan—its aptness or inaptness with reference to politicians, whether current or long gone—those of us who care about Scripture should think immediately, first, and foremost of the Bible when we hear it.

When I feel the most joyless is when it is most essential for me to practice joy, to seek out this Godly abundance. Not to disassociate. Not to demean my own suffering or the realities that have brought me low. But because God calls — compels — us to remember: the things that speak death over us don’t get the last word.

Our egos won’t allow us to open our hands and release the power that we have to empower others to do the work.

The Jesus comparisons, the Truth Social imagery, and the Caesar-like symbolism all point toward a troubling trajectory: a national careening toward a distinctly American form of emperor worship, one clothed in the language of white Christian nationalism.

I think about all these people floating around in the world who aren't gonna walk into a regular church – for whatever reason. When I started asking, “What are those reasons?”, there were so many answers that sounded like: “I found this thing that is meaningful, but someone said you can’t do it that way.” And the throughline became me saying: “Why? Why not?”

And Jesus says, I’m the way.
You have me.
You already know everything you need to know because you know me.

What does it mean to balance religious identity with loyalty to a nation? And when, if ever, should believers practice tax resistance in response to unjust authority?

I spoke with a prophet and he shared with me a prophecy that he himself could not believe. He said, “Before the church is to become persecuted, women will first. Before the church is to share the good message, women will first. And before the church is anything, women will be everything for it.”

It’s the Sunday after Easter and everyone at church has a kazoo.

When people are accustomed to—and willing to—pay a ticket price for a well-produced event, what’s the harm in charging a nominal fee for a Christmas Eucharist? And when so many pay membership dues to gyms or subscribe to services, what’s wrong with charging a fee for Christian community?

We need Mary in our life of faith too. Our Tower to guide us, to hold us up, to offer shelter, to remind us that we too can show up even as we grieve and struggle to trust and speak our faith out loud. We need Mary the Tower to hold us steady when we cannot be steady ourselves.

On this upcoming Palm Sunday, disciples of Christ have the opportunity to follow his example as we stand against injustice and oppression today. Isaiah, a group long known for empowering those who are vulnerable to the political powers of this world, is calling for faith communities around the country to join them on the Palm Sunday Faith Actions.

We now inhabit a milieu in which brazen examples of “cashing in” are normalized, and citizens—and even our churches—have grown numb to them, often remaining silent about a matter that affects us all.

In a hermeneutic of generosity, I suspect Patrick wanted to baptize his former captors because he could see how the chains of enslavement bind even its purported victors into sin. Slavery binds even the “masters” into submission to evil. Slavery denies the God-bearing image inherent to all people; should you see in the eyes of the ones you oppress your own salvation, you might know you have no freedom at all.

Coming to accept and care for those who are disabled by how the world operates is part of this common calling to love our neighbor, because God made creation and God’s creation is good. If we are all made in the image of God, we have to care for those who might look like a God who is on the spectrum, a God with cerebral palsy, or a God with a speech impediment.