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Monday, February 17, 2025


Happy Monday, my friends! I’ve become accustomed at this point to people coming up to me in coffee houses and elsewhere when they hear me speaking with others about being Queer and telling me and the people with me that if we only prayed harder, had more faith, or gave our lives to Jesus, we could, minimally, learn how to embrace a single life if not “come out of homosexuality.” I admit I find that logic quaint, even humorous, but I understand why these people feel that they have the permission, perhaps the need to approach me. They’ve been indoctrinated that it’s part of their Christian obligation to find the “lost,” call us to repentance, and bring us (back) to Christ. Even when our conversation is theological or about the church, these folks still see a missional need and opportunity. I don’t appreciate their intrusion into my conversation, but I understand where it originates.

 

In her book My Body is Not a Prayer Request,[1] Dr. Amy Kenny discusses what she has experienced as an all too common occurrence both in public and at church: people approaching her and telling her that if she only prayed more, had more faith, turned her life to God, or took some other spiritual action she could be “cured” of her disability. Kenny knows far more about these people and their reasons for speaking to her than they know about her, her identity as a disabled person,[2] and her faith. While both situations involve a high dose of audacity, I struggle to find the logic connecting disability, particularly physical disability, to a lack of faith.

 

I think many of us would assign connections between disability and sin and disability and a lack of faith to the past. We definitely see those connections play out in the Bible. We hear in John 9:1-3 (NRSVUE) a discussion of this topic: “As [Jesus] walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.’” There are several things going on in this passage. First, Jesus’ disciples see a man that they believe was born blind. We have no context for why they believe that to be true. Frankly, they might be making as bold an assumption as the people in Kenny’s account (they don’t bother to get his name). Second, the disciples ask, “who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” This question involves some temporal gymnastics but conveys the connection between sin and disability. Jesus turns their question on its head saying that the man was born blind ostensibly for this moment when his blindness can help reveal God’s works. While this explanation is also problematic because it means that a disability is used as an instrument of God’s plan, it nevertheless takes the idea of sin out of disability.

 

Disability is a human inevitability. Humans are only ever temporarily abled bodied. There is a vague line in human life and different for each person when, once crossed, the body declines in fascinating ways. Where sneezes, for instance, were once a small annoyance now become the cause of throwing out one’s back or where a night out at a bar once caused a hangover, now eating anything after 8pm causes the same feeling the next morning. That’s all to say nothing at all of many ways that even the most athletic bodies decline with age.

Do you connect sin with disability? How has disability shown up in your life as you’ve gotten older?

 

Let us pray: Gracious Jesus who experienced the fragility of human life, grant us the grace to disconnect our assumptions about disability, both in general and specific to one person, from the lived reality of a person’s experience of disability. Help free us of inattention to disability and the tendency to want to find cures or solutions. We ask this knowing that you are our liberator. Amen.

 

Blessings on your weeks, my friends! Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.

 

Faithfully,

 

Ben


[1] Amy Kenny, My Body is Not a Prayer Request: Disability Justice and the Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2022).

[2] Kenny notes that she prefers to use “disabled person” for herself. She acknowledges the ongoing debate between identity-first (“disabled person”) and person-first (“person living with a disability”) language.




 
 
 

February 16, 2025

 

The Rev. Marla Flewellen (she/her)

Pastor, St. John United Church of Christ (Columbus, OH)

Queer Christian

 

 

God of light, shine your wisdom. Creator of all, mold us for your will. Spirit of truth, Speak! Amen

 

In my first year of seminary, one of my professors invited me to participate in a rural ministry winter course.

 

Ministry on the Plains offered a two-week experience of rural and small-town ministry in Nebraska.


It involved meeting and learning from farmers of multiple generations, hearing about the faith and challenges of the farming and agricultural community and worshipping and fellowshipping with clergy and residents of small towns.

 

Open to the invite, I traveled from Ohio with a professor and five seminary classmates and arrived in Nebraska late into the evening. We had plans to meet the farmers in the morning. 

The next morning, at sunrise, we were to meet farmers over coffee and donuts at the only coffee shop in town. 

 

As I was among the first to enter the doors, it was a moment of “Guess who is coming to dinner,” or a better statement would be, “Guess who is coming for donuts?” The shocked and surprised farmer’s face indicated that no one told them that two of the six students were Black. But after the initial shock, all seemed to be well as we visited farmer's homes and gathered with the faith community.

 

As the six of us met with our professor and the hosting pastors, I learned that for most, if not all, of the people we would gather with for coffee, meals, worship, bible study, or conversations this would be their first engagement with a Black person.

 

Did I mention this was in 2006?

 

All seemed to be well until it wasn’t. At the hosting pastors' home, they led a concerning conversation about who they perceived to be a gay man attending their church. Listening to their negative comments and judgment was painful. I tried to ignore them. A week later, our group was divided and sent out two by two to stay in other small-town communities and to be hosted by other pastors to create more opportunities for learning, connecting, and engaging with various church members and faith communities.

 

Another student and I stayed with Pastor C and his family. The first night we arrived, Pastor C wanted to talk with me one-on-one. It was about his 5-year-old daughter, who was already in bed when I arrived at their home.  He shared that this would be the first time she had spoken to and interacted with a Black person. Pastor C shared that before I arrived, he tried to explain to his daughter that I was Black by telling her about my skin and hair differences. According to him, she may want to touch my hair and skin and may even have some questions for me. He wanted to know how I felt about that.

 

Did I say this was in 2006?

 

While there, Pastor C invited me to accompany him to a giving event. I was excited to participate with Pastor C in this small-town ministry opportunity. A member of his church owned the “only” bakery in town, she closed it one Saturday a year to host the town’s Annual Free Christmas Toy Give-Away. The Giveaway Event provided new but mainly gently used toys. However, the community maintained the integrity of providing only clean and working toys, which sounded loving to me. Especially after I heard the heartfelt care for the community, Pastor C told me we needed to leave early the next day to stop by the bakery and inventory what toys needed batteries. It was Pastor C's job to install the batteries before the giveaway started. 

 

I was excited to join the ministry efforts. I wanted to see people caring for people and witness the love of Christ in the community as members of his church provided for those in need.

Until Pastor C wanted to have another one-on-one conversation with me, he said, “We have a few on-site volunteers, a group of older ladies who help yearly.” He continued, “Like I said, they’re older, but they’re nice. They have lived in this town their whole lives, and they have no background or experience with Black people.”

 

Let me remind you this was in 2006.

 

Except, he continued, the Drug and Alcohol Rehab Facility that is in the next town over.  That program sometimes has Black women in it. They come into town for community service work as part of the program's recovery. Pastor C continued, “These old ladies volunteering are nosey. They will think you are from the Drug and Alcohol Rehab Program and may ask you some questions,” Pastor C said. “Just ignore them.”    

 

Friends, when I think about love for myself, I must ask the question: when do I stop ignoring? When I think about love for Black people, I must ask when I stop ignoring systematic racism and the inequalities of our justice system. When I think about love for the LGBTQIA+ community, I must ask myself, when do I stop ignoring the issues of safety, suicide, and homicides? My Spirituality calls me to Love. Today, when I think about love, I think about meaning and connection. When I think about Love, I think about justice, equity, resilience, strength, voice, and hospitality.

 

Reflection

 

When I think about my experiences in Nebraska I also think about Love.  The love I felt, saw and demonstrated for myself and for others. The love I offered in my ministry by providing care and compassion for all people. In this season of transformation, I invite you to Love. Daily meditate on the times in your life when you felt valued and cared for by others. How did it feel? 


Reflect on the moments when you felt whole in your skin and proud of who you are. The times when you believed safety was so present that the lack of it never crossed your mind. What can you cultivate in this season so that others can have that experience?

 

Now, consider when someone acknowledged you for who you are and not who they expected or wanted you to be.

 

How did it inspire you to be seen?  

 

Action

 

Friends, when we help promote safety for a member of the LGBTQIA community or use our pride in our skin, we support another person’s journey to justice. We are on the pathway of love. Now imagine love for all people, in all seasons, for all skin tones and shades. Love for all genders or those with none.  Love for all relationships for all sexual orientations. Love for all faiths, beliefs, and spirituality. Imagine love in all places.

 

I seek love for all. I seek it for myself, and I seek it for you.

 

Let us not ignore the gift of Love. 

 

All Means All, Love is for ALL.

 
 
 


TLDR - Highlights

  • In addition to changing the "Gulf of Mexico” to the "Gulf of America” on Google maps, Google has also removed Pride Month and other identity-based celebrations from Google Calendar.

  • A leaked State Department memo details how passports for Trans people will be handled.


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Bills and Policies LOVEboldly is Following




Executive Orders - This list is under construction. We hope to have it back on the website by next week.

 
 
 

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