Enlightening The Eyes of my Gay Heart

Growing up, I often tell young LGBTQ folks now, I didn’t know I was “gay.” The reason I say that is because we didn’t have that in those days. Or rather, I thought gay was what the yuletide was what with decked halls and all that. I didn’t know I could be a man who loved a man for life (or even for awhile). All I saw in the world was or appeared to be heterosexual. So I didn’t know there were any options.

Then again, I knew very well to whom I was attracted emotionally and sexually. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do about that so mostly I did nothing. I have now dim memories of times that I came across LGBTQ people and only much later (usually decades later) realized that was what that had been.

Like so many things in life, as I grew into adulthood and went out into the world I began to see things that were new and different for me, and very quickly I began to catch on that there was a whole big chunk of reality I knew nothing about and hadn’t really let myself encounter. So a first step for me was just letting my eyes see things in a different way.

My seeking came from an inner yearning and eventually I began to get past just observing and head for real learning. Somehow or other I came across a news stand someplace (probably in a book store, remember book stores? We used to have stores full of books of all kinds …. And often a huge magazine rack and lots of newspapers too.) and there one day was a newspaper called The Advocate. And boy did I devour every word of that once I got it home.

Now my eyes were really open and I began to see love all around me, especially of the LGBTQ variety. I wanted in and while I worked on that I opened my heart as well as my eyes. And then let’s just say one day I was delivered by an angel and never looked back.

But then a whole new world opened up for me. I remember very nervously being escorted to my first ever gay bar by a group of my new friends. It was equal parts terrifying and exciting. But it also was incredibly liberating. And I kept thinking “you mean this was here all along and I didn’t know about it?” It was both like being shifted into a new dimension, which it was, and like being delivered from exile, which it also was.

And, to cut to the chase, I met my husband and he dragged me to church. And boy was that ever a revelation. There in that bastion of holiness, surrounded by beauty and glory and joy and salvation, there were integrated people of all sexualities, of all races, of all genders, of all ages, of all social stations. I could go on and on. Again I thought “you mean this was here all along?” And, of course, it was. And it is.

Because Christ is king. Christ is king of the dimension of love, where there are no divisions, where revelation is yours if only you will open your eyes, where learning to walk in love is the surest path to eternal citizenship.

The prophet Ezekiel [34:11-16, 20-24] gives the word of God concerning God’s lost sheep, who God promises to rescue, to gather, to feed … to “make them lie down” in rest and relief. And a shepherd will be set over them. And I think of Christ, my king, who brought me back from exile and into a new dimension of being one with God’s creation of me and with and through whom I have been able to live a long life of love.

Like the Psalmist [Psalm 100] I learned to dance and sing and rejoice, not just at church but at that gay bar too. I learned to be joyful with all my heart, to give thanks and to be present with song.

Like Paul writing to the Ephesians [1:15-23] I learned the meaning of having “the eyes of [my] heart enlightened” to know the hope to which I had been called.

And then I understood [Matthew 25:31-46] that the Son of Man has come in glory and his angels are all around us and we have been gathered into the dimension of his love because we have learned to walk in the love given to us in creation by God in whose image we all are created.

And Christ is our LGBTQ king.

Amen.

Last Sunday after Pentecost, Christ the King, Proper 29 Year A RCL (Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24; Psalm 100 Jubilate Deo; Ephesians 1:15-23; Matthew 25:31-46)

©2023 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

LGBTQ Army of the Cross of Christ

We have reached the Sunday of the Passion. Which is to say, the Sunday that ends Lent (well sort of, still no meat until after Good Friday!) and begins Holy Week. Where are we today, on the Sunday of the Passion?

I am in love with my husband, and in love with my life, and in love with our home.

My Oregon elderberry plants, which somehow made it through the winter, are now almost 3” tall. I think that’s a miracle. I can’t wait for ten years from now when they will have those lovely red berries all winter.

Darcelle XV, the famous Portland drag queen, passed last week. It was momentous for Portlandia, to whom she was really a folk idol; to the LGBTQ community she was a hero. Curiously,all Portland was celebrating her rich life just as our homophobic siblings in red states were trying to outlaw drag.

The tulip festival, which is a magnificent display of tulips in the shadows of Mounts Hood, St. Helens and Jefferson, is delayed (like my garden, where I have a few crocus and a single daffodil blooming, but I can see buds forming elsewhere) because it has been so cold and yipes!, it keeps snowing (albeit, it doesn’t stick here on the floor of the Willamette Valley; no telling what it’s like at the tulip farm, which is at a higher elevation).

Still, Easter is knocking at our doorstep. We have reached the Sunday of the Passion via a riotous journey. We have come through war, climate change, train derailments, eternal politics, attacks on trans people and drag queens, inflation … a pandemic even.

One might say we have come mercifully to the Sunday of the Passion.

When Jesus reached the outskirts of Jerusalem [Matthew 22:1-11] he sent his disciples to find a donkey he could ride into the city. They not only found him a donkey, they lined the streets with their cloaks and those of the crowd that gathered to honor Him.

The Psalmist [118:19-22, 28-29] gave thanks for the gates of righteousness, which always are open, for the opportunity to give thanks to God who always answers, for the opportunity to be the cornerstone of faith.

Like the followers of Isaiah [50:4-9a], we have heard the call of God: “Let us stand up together.” We, the queers of the world, must stand up to the fearful who would see us “erased.” We are not alone, most of God’s other children love us and support us. We need only stand up to be counted, to be victorious, to walk in the way of love and share in resurrection.

And we must share in the meal Jesus gave us to eat 2000 years ago [Matthew 26:26-27], and which we, like gazillions of God’s children, partake of daily ever since … give thanks, take, eat, give thanks, take, drink. This is God’s covenant with us, eternity is now.

And then have a look at the end of this story: who is gathered there at the foot of the cross [Matthew 26:54-57]? The centurion, terrified, many women,weeping, and a rich man from outland. Outcasts all, standing up together. These, like us, are the army of the cross of Christ.

We, indeed, are the LGBTQ army of the cross of Christ.

Palm Sunday (Sunday of the Passion) Year A RCL 2023: Liturgy of the Palms (Matthew 21:1-11; Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29); The Liturgy of the Word (Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 31:9-16; Philippians 2:5-11; Matthew 26:14- 27:66)

©The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Of Beans and Drag Queens: Massah and Meribah Indeed

Ahhh, Lent …. Well, year after year I wonder what am I supposed to say. Maybe something like “eat beans and choke on them? Give up sex and chocolate for Jesus?” (Btw, I’m a lifelong vegetarian, I love beans.)

Well, no. That’s not what Lent is about.

For one thing, it isn’t a season of punishment, it is a season of penitence, which means “thinking about things.”

And then there is the part about giving something up, which is by no means a requirement of Christianity despite what anybody tells you. It is a custom born of attempts to simplify the explanation of the Christ event (including, on this point, the 40 days in the wilderness). But, these days I am sick and tired of people “simplifying” for me. Which is short-hand for saying I am sick and tired of being talked down to just because I’m over 30 (way over as it turns out but hey!). But, I digress, the point of “giving something up” isn’t to give something up, but rather to create a daily, recurrent remembrance that you are walking symbolically, metaphorically, and in reality in your own life, with Christ through the 40 days in the wilderness. There are a zillion ways to do that without giving up anything essential. And, you shouldn’t give up something that’s bad for you, because, hey, you should give that up anyway, doing it now has nothing to do with walking with Christ.

It has been a difficult week for LGBTQ people in the US. Drag queens are being vilified by fearful people. This is a pretty old story too. And we have to keep standing up to them. Over and over and over, because someone has to teach them that God loves people loving people. Just look at all of our same-sex marriages, strong and loving, nourishing and nurturing, like bedrock. My own a lifetime of love realized in every moment.

What does that tell us about love? That it isn’t easy, that it takes perspicacity, that it takes walking the walk, that it takes time, and patience, and swallowing your pride because your love is more important. And these are the lessons Jesus is constantly trying to teach to his disciples. These are the lessons we must grasp to walk in love, to walk with Christ, in love.

Massah and Meribah (“ordeal” and “contention”) are what Moses calls the place where the folks keep testing God by constantly complaining [Exodus 17:1-7]–fearful people stirring up the absence of love. Complaining is easy enough to do, and it feels good. But it is destructive. Simple enough: choose love, not fear or spite, and you will receive love in return.

God’s love is already within us, we were born with it as a seed in our hearts; when we first look at our birthgiver and cry we are expressing that love [Romans 5:1-11]. And this is the love that we grow up with, live with, learn to extend to God’s creatures who come across our path. And this is our justification, by faith, our peace, our grace, our glory.

Glory is in the heart, in the soul, in the darkness of the lonely nights, in the times when we choose hope instead of fear, in the moments when we choose to reach out with a smile even when it hurts. Glory is ours, because we are God’s [John 4:5-42].

AND NOW MY FRIENDS IT IS TIME ONCE AGAIN for us to stand up for ourselves. We cannot let homophobia or fearful people end the freedom that we have worked for decades to bring to our trans siblings, we cannot let anger and fear of self end the liberty and love God has called us to bring to the world through our own self-expression. We cannot let backward fear turn our LGBTQ lives into a new Massah and Meribah, ordeal and contention. We cannot test God in this way.

What could be more innocent than Drag story hour? And why should we be vilified for refining an art form and showing children how to love?

So, give love. Smile; really, in your heart.

And with that smile on your lips and in your heart fight back any way you can.

Now Is The Time. What else could God ask of us in Lent?.

1 Come, let us sing to the LORD; * let us shout for joy to the Rock of our salvation. 2 Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving * and raise a loud shout to him with psalms. [Psalm 95]

3 Lent Year A 2023 RCL (Exodus 17:1-7; Psalm 95 Venite, exultemus; Romans 5:1-11; John 4:5-42)

©2023 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Called to See

Every now and again it strikes me how much every day is the same, every week is the same, everything is the same. I wait for it to be evening then I wait for it to be morning then before I know it’s Sunday again. I joke (maybe joke?) with my husband that my entire life consists of making dinner—I plan it in the night, I check the pantry when I get up, I thaw things through the day, as soon as the sun is low in the sky I’m in the kitchen cooking, then we have dinner, then I go to bed and start all over. Time is passing, it seems, but then again maybe as Einstein said, it is just an illusion (https://www.thenakedscientists.com/forum/index.php?topic=82388.0 ). But, of course, the science of Einstein’s perception is that the passing of time depends on the frame of reference.

One way to look at it is to think about how we live in a certain dimension in which our synchrony with creation, a kind of harmony, is an eternal reality. In that there is grace, God’s love freely given in the absolute reality of life.

But then it occurs to me that how we tell our stories to ourselves defines the dimension in which we reside. Do I live in a dimension of dinner? Or do I live in a dimension of love and care, one in which my whole being is oriented to my husband’s, and to the things we share. The moments of togetherness, sharing, indeed loving, are the sunrises of the dimension in which we live. The sun sets and the moon rises and our love carries us. The harmony, the synchrony of the two of us in creation is our own dimension of love.

We all are called to tell—to prophesy if you will—about the dimensions of love we create and inhabit. It is their cumulative overlapping stew that is the eternal dimension of God’s love.

Isaiah (theologians will call this “Second Isaiah” Isaiah 49:2ff.) said “[God] called me before I was born … made my mouth like a sharp sword … made me a polished arrow” and (49:6) “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” The Psalmist (40:10-11) “proclaimed righteousness … did not restrain my lips … I have spoken of your faithfulness and your deliverance, I have not concealed your love.” Paul wrote to the church at Corinth (1 Corinthians 1: 9) “God is faithful, by [God] you were called into the fellowship of … Jesus Christ.” John the Baptist (John 1:34) “I myself have seen and testified.”

As I have written and preached many times, we who are seeking to comprehend how God calls us often don’t realize that we already are living the lives to which we have been called. We have been called to be God’s LGBTQ people, God created us LGBT&Q in God’s own image so we might be a light to the nations. We have been called to lead our LGBTQ lives in the light, as a witness to God’s faithfulness to us. We have been called to proclaim our pride in our God-given LGBTQ lives as a way of pointing to the highway of love into the dimension we create by living in and through our love.

There is a reason Jesus said (John 1:39), simply “Come, and see.”

2 Epiphany Year A 2023 (Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40:1-12 Expectans, expectavi; 1 Corinthians 1:1-9; John 1:29-42)

©2023 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

To Know is to Love

We “know”—knowledge is that firmament that is both within us and outside us to which we conform as a form of synergy. Creation requires knowledge, after all—we know that spacetime is one existentiality, all space exists and all time exists all at once, it is not on a line, there is no sequence except that derived from our perception.

So, if we perceive that we are outcast because we are of the LGBTQ communion, instead of perceiving that the oppressors are condemning themselves, then we accept a perception. If we perceive that one day is better than another then we accept a perception. But if we comprehend that all days are the same and all places are the same, therefore there can be no divisions among creatures or creation except those imposed as perception jealously to prevent love, then we can approximate understanding of the multi-dimensionality of love.

All love exists all the time.

We always are called to love. We always are called to walk in love. We always are called to walk away from those who cannot or do not or choose not to love. We are not called to complain. We are called to create, to build, to build up—Jesus says over and over “the kingdom has come near” and Paul says over and over “love builds up.” Put the two together and you see …

You see, and when you see, then you can walk in love.

In Jeremiah 29 God says to “seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you .. for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” It is in walking in love that peace and justice flourish and nourish creation. In the Second Letter to Timothy Paul says to “avoid wrangling over words” and “do your best to present yourself to God as one approved by [God].” It is a New Testament paraphrase of God’s word from Jeremiah–it is love that counts and the good that love brings and only love counts. In Luke 17 we receive the story of Jesus’ healing of ten lepers. They called to him and they were healed but only one, “a Samaritan” “turned back, praising God with a loud voice … and thanked [Jesus].” It is this man cast out from society for his illness and cast out because he comes from a different culture, it is this man doubly an outcast who truly “sees” that healing is a sign of the kingdom of love and love is the only thing that brings salvation. It is only this newly healed disciple who sees and knows and grasps the truth, that all time and space are one and only love counts.

We who are God’s LGBTQ people in this world must see and know somehow that we inhabit a different universe than the one our str8 relatives, neighbors, etc., walk in. Parallel maybe, but different.

And that’s okay. That is how it is.

And all space and all time are the same and only love counts.

Does this seem too wifty to you? I suppose it might. But it is important for LGBTQ people now, living through this period of re-re-re-oppression—laws against simple books, laws against health care for trans people, laws against sex—it is important for us to see and know that only love counts.

Proper 23 Year C 2022 RCL (Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7; Psalm 66:1-11; 2 Timothy 2: 8-15; Luke 17:11-19)

©2022 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Nonconventional Joy

These wonderful stories from the Acts of the Apostles are often considered to be about the founding of the church but it is clear that they are really about how the Gospel of love spread (did spread, can spread, does spread) from household to household, primarily through nonconventional populations. That’s an academic way of saying the people we see being baptized and embracing the Gospel in these stories are the outcasts of their time and place. This is surely directly a call to LGBTQ people. Look at what it says! Last week (Acts 16:13-15) we had “Lydia the woman who sold purple cloth.” She listened and understood and heard the message and her whole household was baptized. This week (Acts 16:16 ff.), we have gone out from Lydia’s household in Thyatira to Phillippi and now we meet a carny, described as a “slave girl who had a spirit of divination.” Later, after a fantastic earthquake comes as the climax of a prison hymn sing along, the suicidal jailer receives the Gospel and invites the whole community into his household. Does any part of this story ring any bells for you? How about a pride fest? How about a gay bar? How about drag and dancing queens? What do all of them have in common? They all have embraced joy and full out humanity as life’s path.

So it is to the people who embrace joy as life that first Jesus and then his apostles appeal. And it is these LGBTQ people who were and are the first missionaries of the Gospel, the first apostles of love.

The Revelation (22:12 ff.) reminds us that the reward of a life of love is to know timelessness. Jesus always is coming, Jesus always has come, Jesus always is to come; love always is coming, love always has come, love always is to come. Time is not linear, time is all at once. That is how love is forever both the beginning and the end. Jesus’ high priestly prayer in John (17ff.) points to the same idea, that love is all and love is always timeless. We must learn to embrace love in all things. We who love are love.

Where are we in this timelessness today? Are we on a linear path or are we living in the timeless reality of God? In the United States it is a holiday weekend—Memorial Day. COVID is rising relentlessly again even as people ignore means of mitigation, every other day it seems I learn another friend of mine has succumbed to it, after more than two years of careful avoidance. War in Ukraine plods on. The week just past in which we planned a remembrance of the murder of George Floyd we wound up sandwiched in what surely is timelessness between mass shootings in a supermarket in Buffalo and an elementary school in Texas. One of my cooking magazines is filled with references to queerness even as the threat of institutionalized violence against a woman’s right to choose hangs over us. How do we choose love in this time, in these times?

God’s eternal message to us is that we need to learn, to practice, to constantly improve, to appreciate truly how to love. It is this sense of love within us that is the manifestation of the Holy Spirit. We must embrace joy, we must follow the example of the LGBTQ lives we have been created to live by learning not only to lead lives of joy but to spread our love. Love builds up. Love help us! Amen.

7 Easter Year C 2022 RCL (Acts 16:16-34; Psalm 97 Dominus regnavit; Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21; John 17:20-26)

©2022 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Choosing Love

After a much too “interesting” spring we were happy to settle into a normal-ish summer and a downright gorgeous fall. We have been thrilled at the color of the fall leaves, which despite the February exploding tree ice storm and the June heat dome managed to be brilliant. It helped I suppose that it began raining in mid-September and hasn’t really let up yet.

One part of a return to normal-ish-ity has been working on the house. We had spent last winter updating appliances and so I wanted to next update the lighting in the kitchen. I managed to find some excellent and not too expensive fixtures, which I acquired awhile back. But I was having trouble getting an electrician. Our regular electrician apparently was suddenly overwhelmed. Mercifully, that situation has now been resolved. But along the way I found an ad for an electrician-ish person and placed a call to see whether we might make that work. After a couple of days of texting back and forth he finally arrived to “look over the job.” I showed him the pile of fixtures in their boxes, I showed him where access to the attic was, I showed which fixtures would replace which and he seemed to be making mental notes about the job. He told me he could start in a couple of days, and we discussed scheduling and then he asked something about my “wife.” When I told him I had a husband he suddenly needed to be somewhere else. Shortly after he left I received a text saying he declined the job because of scheduling difficulties. Sure, he did.

This sort of thing happens all the time to LGBTQ people. It always is a surprise and it always hurts. During the time we lived in Wisconsin it took three years to get a deck and a fence built in the backyard—every contractor who came over would poke around and then I’d get an estimate for ten times what the cost should be. It was only after we miraculously found a gay contractor that we got it all built quickly for a suitable price.

I also have the experience that when I tell my straight friends about it they don’t believe me. “Maybe he was just busy” they’ll say. Right …

Miraculously that day (there’s that word again) I had to go pick up my husband, and en route on the radio I encountered the Oregon Public Broadcasting show “Think Out Loud,” which was running an interview about “Oregon Bias Response Hotline Expands with new Funding” (https://www.opb.org/article/2021/10/27/oregon-bias-response-hotline-expands-with-new-funding/ ). What struck me during the interview was a comment to the effect that nobody is expecting to encounter bias, usually you’re going along having a nice day and then “boom” it hits.

Well, after recounting this story a couple of times to gay friends I decided to contact the response line and submit a formal complaint. At least it will get us counted.

God’s greatest gift to creation is the power to love. It is the universal power of creation. If we love we win, if we do not love, we can create chaos. We cannot control events, but we can control how we love.

When we are having a nice day and “boom” hits us, it is a critical moment—if we choose to be angry, if we choose to feel vengeful, that is natural, but it is not helpful. The way out is to choose to love. Not to choose to love the circumstances, but rather, to choose to love whatever is loving in life and creation. My husband rescued the afternoon by loving the red and yellow and orange leaves on our way home. My heart was filled with love for him and for his ability to appreciate beauty.

In Margaret Guenther’s book Holy Listening (Cowley, 1992) the starkest moment for me was when she mentioned all of the thousands of mothers comforting children in box cars en route to Auschwitz by patting shoulders and rocking and saying “it’s all ok, all will be well, I love you.” That was choosing love.

Scripture this week gives us the story of Ruth and Orpah and great love which is not only chosen but built—love builds up (Ruth 1:16-17): “Where you go, I will go; Where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die–there will I be buried.  May the LORD do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!.” God is love and love is God and the psalmist reminds us that love sets us free and opens our eyes. Love lifts us up. Love sustains (Psalm 146: 7-8).

So, those mothers in those box cars were lifted up and sustained, even though their reality was falling apart.

In Mark 12:28-34, when Jesus is challenged about commandments he replies with the only truth: “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” When the scribe who had challenged Jesus turns to love, Jesus says (34): “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”

As I have written many times, as Jesus reminds us, God’s kingdom is already here in that dimension we cannot always quite seem to enter. But when we can love the door is opened, and we can walk through into the dimension of reality where love is all there is.

Proper 26 Year B 2021 RCL (Ruth 1:1-18; Psalm 146 Lauda, anima mea; Hebrews 9:11-14; Mark 12:28-34)

©The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

Essential Glory

What does it feel like to be gay?

I have been pondering that for decades. I know it feels like I feel. I am gay and this is how I feel so this must be what it feels like to be gay. I know it feels different in some ways from what it must feel like to be straight. I know there are obvious emotions concerning sexual attraction but I also know that those are not the most of it. I know that when I am in the physical presence of my beloved I don’t perceive gayness.

[I had better make it explicit that although I identify with the LGBTQ community I obviously only have the experience of being gay. I understand what it feels like to be LBTorQ only tangentially from my interactions with the community. On the other hand, of course, much of what all of us experience comes from the reality of being somehow “other.”]

I know that I am most aware of my sexuality in that sense when I am in an exclusively heterosexist environment. I know that decades ago when my closest friends had a baby girl and made jokes about how she was eyeing the baby boys in the nursery I was really angry that there was simply the assumption that everybody had to be heterosexual until proven otherwise. That time I felt gay. That was a sense of oppression.

I know that my first experience of the Gay Games in New York in 1994 was both humorous and joyous. I was only vaguely aware of the impending games when, early one morning, I hopped down to the corner near my Chelsea apartment to grab a newspaper and a bagel and I was shocked that everybody around me seemed to be gay. I laughed out loud (really!) as I had that realization “Oh, this must be what it feels like to be straight most of the time.” A friend promptly called and invited me to go with him to the opening ceremony and as we rode the subway up the west side all I could see anywhere were LGBT people. It was my first experience of feeling like I was in the majority, of feeling like I was not different in some way. It was glorious.

There you have it—glory is that sensation of love that comes from inside. Glory is love incarnated in our daily experience. The surprising red tomatoes in my garden are glory, my husband walking around the neighborhood each afternoon is glory, the rain chasing away the wildfire danger is glory. We make a mistake when we look for glory outside of ourselves instead of in our own hearts.

The love we experience is glory.

What does it feel like to be gay? Well, glorious, of course!

To remain in a state of glory requires that essential action of walking in love. It is too easy to challenge reality, to challenge love, to challenge God by being angry instead of remembering to walk in love. When we dwell in anger, even justified anger, we stop loving and become self-focused (Job 38:1-2). But when we remember to walk in love the anger dissipates and love fills life with joy. All creation shouts for joy when God’s creatures experience the glory of walking in love.

But what are we to do with those feelings that gave rise to anger, what are we to do with that feeling of oppression? This, too, requires essential action, to lovingly seek justice and righteousness. This requires wisdom that comes from a lifetime of walking in love (Psalm 104:25). This requires the wisdom that comes with sharing the cup of Christ (Mark 10:38), which is the baptism of walking in love. We must push through the anger, through the sadness, through even grieving until we reach the other dimension, where we see the glory of love shared.

What, then, does it feel like to be? To be a living member of creation sharing the power of the love that binds everything together is glorious.

Proper 24 Year B 2021 RCL (Job 38:1-7, (34-41); Psalm 104:1-9, 25, 37b Benedic, anima mea; Hebrews 5:1-10; Mark 10:35-45)

©2021 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

The Armor of Love

It was pretty cool all week. It even rained Friday night, a lovely surprise awaiting me when I awoke to puddles in the garden. My final (I promise!) raised bed arrived and got constructed and is waiting in the garden for plants to bless it (ordered online of course). We had typical Oregon weather the other evening for our first post-(okay still mid-)pandemic dinner party in the patio; it was delightfully warm all afternoon and through the first couple of courses, then as we got close to dessert the moon rose over the fir trees and the temperature dropped enough to justify using the fire pit. It was amazingly wonderful to spend time with friends again.

After dinner we cleaned up outside and gave our friends a tour of our house. We have lived here a little over two years now. It suits us well, and it has been a blessing during the pandemic for the way it has allowed us to live and walk and work in lock-down. It contains us and our lives pretty well.Solomon prayed (1 Kings 8:27) on the occasion of the consecration of the ark of the covenant in the new temple “Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built.”

Solomon prayed (1 Kings 8:27) on the occasion of the consecration of the ark of the covenant in the new temple “Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built.”

The psalmist sang (84:1) “How dear to me is your dwelling, O Lord of hosts! My soul has a desire and longing for the courts of the Lord.“

We are reminded that we human creatures have a propensity for capturing things. We want to make sure they last. We want to be certain we have them just where we want them and just when we need them. And of course, we try our best to do the same thing with God. We set aside time to be sure God is in our homes and in our lives and then we declare God in God’s place while we forge ahead on our own. We forget that God who is love cannot be captured. Love is spirit, love is action, love is unceasing, love is eternal—love cannot be captured it must be lived.

Ephesians (6:10) tells us to “be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God,” which is love.

We forget that love is more than warm feelings, it is the very force of life that not only sustains us, but also protects us. It is the force that keeps creation always in forward motion.

Jesus said (John 6:63) “It is the spirit that gives life.”

He meant that to embrace God is to be filled with love, to be ever loving, to be forever giving and receiving love. Peter answered him (6:68) “you have the words of eternal life” because it is the Spirit, which is love, that gives life.

And it is love that defines us as LGBTQ heirs of the kingdom of love. It is the love we share when we build homes for our logical families that is the whole armor of God. It is the love we model for all of creation through the ways we create sustenance for our own communities that is the life-giving gift of the Spirit.

We must wear that armor with LGBTQ pride in the loving people we are. We must eternally demonstrate the triumph of the active unceasing love we share.

Proper 16 Year B 2021 RCL (1 Kings 8:[1, 6, 10-11], 22-30, 41-43; Psalm 84 Quam dilecta!; Ephesians 6:10-20; John 6:56-69)

©2021 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.

God’s Durable Vessels of Love

We watched the new Boys in the Band movie last night (https://www.netflix.com/title/81000365). Boy was that a walk down memory lane for us. In fact, it reminded me that when I came out in 1974 I sought out a showing (in a theater, lol, remember, we not only didn’t have an internet, we didn’t even have VCRs yet!) so I could learn to speak camp.

At the end of the story several thematic lines come together; not all of them are resolved in an obvious way. But they all have to do with the cross between self-consciousness and the difficulty many of us have/had/have had in dealing with homosexuality, which we must remember is a God-given gift. Yes, in the times in which the original play was written things were a bit different than they are now. But I think, having lived then and living now, that the whole is a matter of accepting your created self. It is a joyous revelation. Let’s get on with the joy.

So, what did any of us give up to become the real person we were created to be? I remember when I came out stating some seemingly obvious “truths” to myself: a) I would be able to love with my whole being; but, b) I would never amount to anything; c) I could not have a serious academic career (go ahead, put my name in Google Scholar, decide for yourself!); and d) I could never become a priest (well, this time look in the Episcopal Clerical Directory).

What does any of this have to do with the darkness of Advent scripture?

Everything, of course.

What is this “armor of light” (from the collect for Advent 1) we are to put on? It is, of course, the vestment of truth. When we come out as whoever we are we put on the armor of light. We let love define us. When we can let love define us the light that is God’s love shines not only on us, but around us and through us. It is no accident that these metaphors arise at this time of the year in the northern hemisphere when life seems to slip ever deeper into night. It also is no accident that each evening we see more houses come alive with lights. The metaphor is an expression of truth. Put on the armor of your own creation, the light of your own truth, and let God’s love shine through you.

When has God hidden God’s face from us (Isaiah 64:1-9)? This is another interesting question, of course, because it depends on perspective. As we know, God never has/never does hide from us. But when have we been unable to see that God was at hand? Whenever we were trapped in self and forgot about that armor of light that is truth. When we remember that God is love and love is light and the light of love is always with us then we know that when we love not only each other but more importantly our own selves, then we are in God’s presence. And in this we know that our own spiritual gift is the very power of love (1 Corinthians 1:3-9).

In Mark’s Gospel (13:24-37) Jesus speaks of the eschaton (let me try the word “finality” here). His message is “keep awake.” It is yet another reminder that we are called to be people of love, that God has called us as LGBTQ people to dwell in love, to let the light of love shine through us, and that in doing that we remain “awake” to the power of God’s love as it moves through the whole of creation.

As for being the LGBTQ people God made us to be–well, to thine own self be true. That place of quaking mountains and dark of night and fading like a leaf to be blown away by the wind is that place of lonely self. The finality Jesus reminds us of is not temporal; rather, it is eternally in our own hearts. The outness to which we are called is the pathway to life in the sunshine of the light of love. This is how we are to “keep awake” by being the people God calls us to be.

God is the potter, and we who are God’s LGBTQ children are God’s most durable vessels of love (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pottery).

First Sunday of Advent Year B 2020 RCL (Isaiah 64:1-9; Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18 Qui regis Israel; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:24-37)

©2020 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.