Some Advent Thoughts

 Peace to you, and God's blessings.

Howdy, y'all. 

It has been some time since my last entry, and before that, far longer.  It is difficult to believe that I have had this blog since 2011.  Interestingly enough, it was during the Advent season that I started writing.  Perhaps there is something about this season that compels me to turn to this medium to reflect upon the different experiences that I have.  In this instance, I have been inspired to write because I recently read a post from a friend's blog.  In her message, she wrote about the discipline of keeping a blog and expressed her experience of being a "child of God together."  I found it quite interesting to read her thoughts and I was reminded of my own call to be a "together" person in my ministry and in my life.  As an introvert, I have often found that being together is somewhat precarious.  As an 8 on the Enneagram, being "together" is a scary thing because the Enneagram 8 is a Lone Ranger type of person, the champion, always on the forefront of the task at hand.  The thought of togetherness is scary, not because we have to join with others, but because it risks the danger of having to be vulnerable with others.  For an Enneagram 8, this is truly a frightening thing!  Eek!

All that aside, the thought of being children of God together makes absolute sense and serves as an invitation to risk the possibility of encountering God's love through others.  As I have found it, whether it is a brief encounter or a life-long one, being children of God together is a gift that can leave one in awe and even speechless as we come to realize the great gift that it is to encounter the love of God as it is shared in community.  

This is something else that I have come to consider recently, salvation isn't something that is a one-time thing like some pixie dust sprinkled upon us to change us, no, salvation is something we live into.  It is something that is revealed little by little through the experiences we share with one another.  These encounters tend to change us, something that we may not consider at the time, but without a doubt, something that does indeed happen and has the ability to bring us to a place where we are made more into who God has always known us to be.  Like a stone being polished in a tumbler, we are changed sometimes subtly and over time, but changed nonetheless.  In some ways, I believe that this is also a brief glimpse of the redeeming love of Christ who has brought forth and new heaven and a new earth.  In our togetherness, this gift of love brings us to a place where the possibility of swords being turned into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks isn't a dream, but a hopeful reality that is experienced as we come to see in each other the presence of the All Holy.  This togetherness as children of God creates a place where the lion is able to rest with the lamb and the adder with a baby and in a more practical sense, perhaps this togetherness also allows each of us to look at each other and see beyond the preconceived notions that we may have about each other and see the dignity that is inherently ours as children of God.  Togetherness as children of God is not an easy task, if it were the world would be a very different place.  No, it isn't easy, but perhaps it isn't impossible and maybe that is the greatest gift that our being children of God together will offer us, a look in love beyond the fears that can so easily choke us.  

I have sometimes been accused of being "good hearted," not because I have a good heart, but because in their own way, those who have said this to me were too polite to call me pollyannish, and perhaps this true, but what if we all risked loving one another and celebrating our oneness as children of God, maybe then we can see the world changed, one heart at at time, in Christ, truly a new heaven and a new earth.  I hope.  Amen.

As always, remember that you are beautiful, and you are loved.  God bless you.

A mercy unimagined.

The Gospel is here.

Some years ago, after a long time of prayer and discernment, I had the opportunity to have a conversation about ministry in the Episcopal Church.  By this time, I had already been an Episcopalian for a few years and had started an earnest discussion about what ministry would look like for me. 

Perhaps afraid of his judgment, just as I had received from the RC bishop and other leadership, I decided to wear my gray robes for my meeting with my bishop.  Let’s be honest, it’s a little weird when I wear my habit, let alone as an Episcopalian, but I digress.  I had also decided to be as honest and forthcoming with him as possible, I needed to make sure that he knew who I was right then and there.  In truth, I was a wounded heart, ready to defend myself from anybody who could cause me further hurt.  For context, I think it is important to mention that in 2015, after 15 of serving in the RC Church, the leadership of my order had decided that there was “something wrong” with me, even going so far as to threaten sanctioning me for not divulging the problem they perceived.  Being the stubborn mule that I am, I refused to admit to any so called problems unless those leaders told me what it was that they were seeing.  The never specified and I never came out.  Shortly thereafter, however, I was no longer welcome to serve publicly as a priest.  The problems they saw in me were so serious in the mind of one person, the same person who “saw” these problems in me, that I was eventually sanctioned and formally excommunicated from the RC Church. 

I mention this because, after having lived through that, I once again found myself in front of a Bishop, discussing the ministry, but unwilling to be hurt again.  Our meeting took place on a Sunday after the Bishop’s visitation in Midland.  When the time finally for us to meet, I was ready for the worst.  Much to my surprise, the bishop didn’t bat an eye.  Instead, he started by asking me one question; “What order do you belong to?” 

I was floored, unsure of how to proceed and yet, quite sure at the moment that I had found my home. 

The woman in today’s Gospel reminded me of that time in my life, so raw, so vulnerable, and so scared and alone.  At the mercy of the powers at be and hoping for even the slightest gift of mercy and grace. 

I can’t know what she must have felt at the moment when her battered body and heart received that breath of a life.  We simply can’t know, but I  imagine it as having been a moment of unexpected and maybe unimagined grace, a breath, much like the breath at creation which restored the promise of life and good.  Like the first breath after coming up out of the waters of abandonment after being resigned to a life of abandonement.  Here, in this instant, she was transformed into a person with a new hope and a very different life. 

We see her changed, no longer under the weight of the community’s condemnation and marginalization, no, now she is made new and she is welcomed back into the community, her life is fully resotred.  No longer the outcast, she is once again a part of the body, we are one once again! 

You and I too, are brought into the Body of Christ, into the community, into a place of love where nothing is expected of us but to life.  This is the gift that Christ offers us, a gift that doesn’t demand the impossible from us except to recieve the impossible love that is so graciously outpoured upon us.  We too are changed and made into a new creation, no longer victims to the expectations of others, or even our own, instead, we become a people living in the light of Christ, made new in every breath and with every moment of knowing God.  The truth is that in Christ, we find something far greater than we could ever imagine, we find ourselves, we find our dignity, we find our worth and we discover that all along, God’s love walked with us through the good and the bad and through the happy and sad moments.  And we learn that all these things are not dependent on societal norms or on the approval of authority, they are rooted instead in the very heart of God who sees us, knows us, recognizes our every quirk and can’t help but smile. 

The problem is that we sometimes can’t see these things for ourselves and we don’t see God’s smile.  And yet, even at those times, Christ continues reaching out and loving us.  He continues being a presence of love in our lives, and often, through those we least expect. 

The story in our Gospel today is the story of Jesus, our mother hen, who so readily and willingly finds us, protects us and offers us life, even when we are unsure of what that will look like or how it will turn out. 

The story of our Gospel today is of our God who loves us so much that even when we arrive, in all our stubbornness and ready to fight, God is there, loving us and calling us into life. 

Amen. 

To listen

 Greetings, Peace to you and God's blessings.

It has been some time since I last wrote in this blog.  Quite frankly, the time has gotten away from me and this poor little blog had fallen out of sight and out of mind.  

I was recently reminded that I have a blog and that I had not posted anything for some time now.  The reality is that I haven't really posted on any of my social media, at least not to the degree that I once did.  I think this is due in part to the fact that I have been very intentional about writing in my journal at both Morning and Evening prayer.  This has helped greatly and has organized my thoughts and feelings into a place where I am better able to then face the world.  

That being said, however, I thought it would be important to write here today.  Throughout this time of the pandemic, I have been trying to be a minister to people in so many different aspects.  I find that I have been listening more and trying to be present to people on a different level.  Perhaps because of Zoom fatigue or some other result of our physical distancing, I have found that more people approach me and want to be listened to.  Note that I say that they want to be listened to, and not that they want to talk.  As I have found, and perhaps this is not an enlightened idea at all, just a new discovery for me, but more and more I have found that people have stories to tell and want to be heard.  Even those people that we may consider "hateful and rude," yes, even they have stories, and sometimes listening to them helps bring about a different result from yelling back.  This intentional listening has been challenging for me, and more than that, it has moved me to really put my money where my mouth is.  As you may know, I often share my little saying with people "You are beautiful. You are loved."  This is a truth that I discovered about myself and one that I want to share with others, but handing out a cute little quip is one thing, what does it look like to actually sit and give someone a space to share their story, how do I love a person whose only understood way of communicating is by yelling?  Honestly, I don't know, but then again that is where love comes in.  In love, I believe that I am meant to sit with another person and if becoming a pin cushion for them is what it takes for them to realize that I love them, then so be it.  I think St. Paul may have done something to this effect when he spoke of being "all things for all people." (1 Corinthians 9:19-23) I especially wonder about this as I see more people on the news looking at each other in anger and suspicion.  Now, don't get me wrong, this does not mean that I will not stand for that which is right, I certainly will and I believe that love demands that I do so, what I mean, though is that instead of falling into an endless cycle of gratuitous yelling, I believe that I am being called to listen.  I want to listen and that is what I hope to do.  In loving, I shall listen, and maybe, in the grand scheme of things, all we need to do is listen to others and share our stories.  

Someone asked me today if I ever get tired of listening to people share their stories, I simply said "no."  I want to listen and maybe in listening, the world will be changed just a little bit.  

As always, thank you for your time and know that I truly believe it, "You are beautiful. You are loved."

Set our hearts afire...

Peace to you and God's blessings.

This post has been stewing for some time.  Honestly, I have not been able to find adequate words to best articulate the emotions, the thoughts, the feelings, and everything else that I have been carrying this week.  The news of George Floyd was somehow like every other news blurb that comes across the screen on a seemingly daily basis, but for some reason, this one was different.  Maybe it's our collective bursting forth after having been locked away for so long because of Coronavirus, or maybe it is because as a collective people, we are no longer able to stand the news of yet another person of color being brutally killed.  And in all of this, today is Pentecost, the joyous day on which the Church is born!  Joyous...  right, joyous.  Even here in little ol' Odessa, Texas, there were protests.  I, for one, did not attend.  Instead, I chose to sit in prayer and hold up all those who have somehow become involved in this outburst of energy that we are seeing from all across the country.  I sat in silence with my God and pleaded to know how to love.  Even now, as I sit to write these words, I struggle to find the best way to convey what I feel, and I can only hope that whatever my response is, that it will be made in love, for love, and with love.  I was once told by one of the kids at school that all I ever talk about is "love, love, love, love, love," and yes, he was absolutely correct.  But what does it mean to love?  What does it mean to respond to the recent events, with love?  I cannot presume to know the answer and as I have already mentioned, I feel as though I don't have the adequate words to articulate my thoughts, but love is that act that stands in the face of fear and dispels those lies that so often lead us to react in ways that are unhealthy and even deadly.  Love is the action of intentionally choosing to recognize the fear around us and to respond in ways that bring about change, not through force and aggression, but through the persistent and gentle energy that is love.  Just as the Spirit of God danced through the chaos at creation, so it is that today, we are called upon to welcome the Spirit of God to become our dance partner once again as we face our fears and work toward the change that our world needs.  This is not to say that there is no need for those who stand in protest and witness out on the streets, but violence is never the answer, and much like Lot's wife who chose that which was not of God, violence leads us to places of more fear and ultimately, death.  So what does love look like for me?  It means holding the fear and hurt, the death and destruction, and allowing it to be transformed by the Spirit of Love who beckoned Jesus out of the grave, and who makes holy our daily being.  It means knowing that every moment of today and that each tomorrow are good in the eyes of God who only ever imagines life for us.  It means understanding that at times, a loud voice is required to help usher change, but that those who stand in silence are just as necessary.  Love looks like an action that is inspired by the same Spirit that called forth the Church from among so many people who were so different and yet who binds us together as the Body of Christ.  Love means being able to look upon my neighbor and recognizing that this person is not black or white, but my brother and sister.  Love is standing in truth and knowing that those who would rather promulgate fear and anger are wrong.  Love is knowing that every beat of my heart is in sync with the heart of God who only wants life for each of us.  Love is responding in actions that will inspire change and love is knowing that I am holy as are you.  I wish I could do more than just use these diminished words, but please know that I offer them with a heart that is confident in the love that I have known in Him who is Love incarnate.  And so no matter where tomorrow may lead and no matter what fears may appear before me, I will love and I hope that you will too.

Thank you for your time and please remember that you are beautiful and you are loved. 

RL +

Life, death, Astros!

Life, death, Astros!

Yesterday and today, I was at a conference in Houston.  Although I wasn’t too sure about the conference, it turned out to be a blessing.  I got to see a beloved friend, I got to hang out with a long time sister (from another mister) and I was able to watch the Astros during the third game of the World Series.  It’s been a full day and that’s not all.  Today, I had the privilege of celebrating the birth (although at a distance) of my friend’s baby!  It was such a joyful and incredible moment to hear that this little guy had been born and then to see the first pictures of this beautiful baby.  On this same day, I received a sad notice that another friend of mine had lost her father.  An amazing, intelligent and gentle man who had served so many throughout his journey and who came to a point in his journey where he decided to trust in the profound love of the One who calls us each into life!  It was mixed prayer time for me, mourning with a friend as she mourns the loss of her father and rejoicing with other friends as they enter this new and hope-filled part of their journeys.  And then, I get to my room for the night and receive two simple messages of love and support.  Not really understanding why I replied in kind and sent my regards… and then it hit me, eight years ago today, my own life and my family’s lives changed forever as our own dad passed away very, very suddenly.  I had been driving home and was in Trinidad, Colorado when I missed a call from my brother.  As soon as I saw that he had called, I listened to the message and his voice, somber, left a simple message; “Take your time getting back.”  I knew.  The rest of the trip was a long time of driving, pulling over and having my talks with God as I prepared myself to serve my own family as I had served so many others before.  In time, I made it home and the rest of the days seem to melt into one. 

As I reflect on this day, I sit in humility as I think to all the moments of intimacy that I have been privileged to share with so many people along my wild and crazy journey, and hopefully, I will be able to do so for many more years to come and many more lives. 

This past Monday, I was able to sit on a panel for an LGBT+ conference and after all the questions had been asked, I simply said to the people gathered, “Don’t be afraid.  Whatever life throws at you, don’t be afraid.  Walk boldly into every step and celebrate who you are and who God has made you to be!  Shine and let others shine with you.” 

I give thanks to God for the call to serve in this manner, and I hope that in doing so, others will be inspired to serve according to their own gifts and talents because no matter who we are, we each can share love.  Be love.  Be you.  And always remember that You are beautiful, and You are loved! 

For the record, at the writing of this blog, the Astros are leading at the top of the 7^th, 4 to 1!

6 years ago today.

Six years ago today, I woke up a priest with no faculties.  This meant that while I was still recognized as a priest in the Roman Catholic Church, I was not able to work publicly as a priest, or as someone stated it, Jesus will be there, but he just won't be happy about it...  ok.
As I recall, it was a bleak October day.  I honestly don't remember much about that day or that week.  To think back on it now, I honestly don't know how I got through those first few days, especially after 13 years of a life that had been regimented and within a very specific context, and all of a sudden, it was all gone! 
Today, I got up a little late (it is my day off) and sat at my prayer desk as I do most mornings.  I opened my prayer book and my Bible and started my prayer.  All the while, my cat was trying to nudge her way into my left hand, a daily routine she has become very adept at.  After prayer, I took some time to reflect on this day six years ago.  I remembered leaving the rectory and having had to leave the key on the dining room table.  They hadn't wanted me to even go into the office to drop off my key.  They just wanted me gone.  Like some cheap object, I had been discarded and had been told to vacate the premises by 8am that morning. 
I remember looking at the clock in my car as I pulled out of the driveway, 7:58.
Little did I know at that time that while things seemed bleak and cold, just like the weather, my life was only just getting started! 
Today, after sitting with my journal and the memories, I received an email.  I was invited to serve as a pastoral presence at a panel on the LGBTQIA+ Community and Religion.  Of course, I will go! 
I also received three books that I had ordered to help me prepare for a panel that I will be moderating as a Transgender Symposium in November!  Yay book!
All this and then I got to go to lunch with some clergy friends of mine.  We laughed, we joked, we discussed heavy topics and all the while, we were able to celebrate each other's camaraderie.  In the midst of that lunch, I couldn't help but think back to six years ago when I stood alone and afraid, far from being able to laugh and unsure of where life would lead me.  Looking out into a world that seemed so strange to me. 
Today, I serve in a small church, only two blocks from the hospital where I was born.  It certainly hasn't been easy, and Lord knows that there are easier places to serve, but I have no doubt that today, I am more who God has always known me to be because of those decisions six years ago.  Today, I serve with great joy and love and I stand here for anyone who, like me 6 years ago, feels as though they too are alone and afraid.  I am here today, to stand with those who may feel as though their world is coming to an end, and I promise to keep serving with love so that anyone who feels like I once did, may know that I will walk with them.  I am here to serve so that anyone feeling alone, may know that they are not alone.  I am here to attest that although there are times when it feels as though things are falling apart, very often, they only lead to something bigger and better and just as my world didn't fall apart, neither will yours!  Today, I am here to walk with you, and all along the way, I will remind you that You are beautiful and You are loved! 
Because you are!
Because I am!
Because we always will be! 

Fr. Tom

This week has been a mixture of emotions.  On one hand, there has been joy and anticipation as I prepare to begin a new phase in my ministry as an Episcopal priest.  I have gotten underway at my parish, but now I am about to begin my work as a chaplain at an Episcopal School.  There is excitement, and everything is abuzz as we prepare to receive the children.  I will also be teaching 6^th grade World History and Middle School Religion.  These are very exciting times and the teachers, faculty and staff at the school have been an amazing witness of love and welcoming.  Without a doubt, there have been amazing moments of good throughout the week.  The other side of this week, however, has been difficult because of the way it has touched my heart and the way it has triggered something in me that I believed to have overcome, mainly, the experiences and hurt that I had in another ministerial moment of my life.  Yes, the priesthood in the RC church.  What stands out, is the fact that so many things have come up since hearing about the Attorney General investigation that was released early this week.  For the most part, the things that have come back are rooted in some of the duplicity that I lived through as a seminarian and then a priest in the RC church.  I have even been wrestling with the fact that a priest once told me that I was unpriestly because I didn’t know how to cover for another priest.  (That other priest was seducing women and then abandoning them once he had their way with them.)  I was told that I was uncharitable in voicing my concern about this priest.  I was unpriestly… and he kept having his way with women who yearned to have an honest relationship.  Other stories flooded into my heart this week as well, like the time a priest introduced me to his partner of 18 years.  They had been together for that long and even had a house together, but no one knew.  I never understood why the chose to tell me, but it came as a shock.  By this time, however, I had learned.  I had learned that speaking out only brought about misery.  By this time, I was too far gone and had already received the date on which I knew I could no longer serve as a priest.  There were many reasons, the fact that I am gay, the fact that I was “disobedient,” and even my “health.”  By the time I met the priest’s partner, I didn’t care.  I had stood up to a system that was sick and had lost.  It is as if I had tried to use an ore to steer the Titanic.  The report brought up these and so many more feelings, memories, and emotions.  I cried this week, felt great anger and disgust and even gave thanks to God for having had the stupid luck to leave.  But that was not to be the worst pain I was to feel this week.  Yesterday, it was brought to my attention that on page 438, Fr. Thomas Kelley is mentioned…  At first, I couldn’t believe it, Fr. Tom?  No!  Not at all!  He wasn’t like that.  But as I read this part of the report, yes, and the sad thing is that of all people, he was the last one I would have expected.  His jovial and loving presence has served to shape my own ministry and my approach to service.  Love and joy, even in the midst of pain, but what I didn’t know was that he had caused so much pain and shortly before entering our lives, he had even been involved in things that were not surprising to me, because I had known of them in seminary, but things that I never thought he could be a part of.  To be honest, my heart hurt to read about the allegations and then to connect the pieces of his story and his entry into our lives.  I was sad to think back to so many moments during which he remained silent when asked certain questions and then I thought back to the last thing he ever told me.  The last time I saw him, he was a broken man,  he had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer and would be dead within a few months.  As I sat in his living room, he was different.  Yes, he was sick, but there was a darkness about him that shook me.  We tried making small talk but eventually, I chose to leave him.  Perhaps he was too tired.  As I approached him to give him a hug, he looked at me and told me one thing, he said “Run!.  Run far away from all this.”  I never knew what he meant, but in light of the report that has come out, I think that now, more than ever, I understand.  Foolishly, I remained, even after those words and I remember clearly where I was on that cool February day when I received word that Fr. Tom has died. 

Just last week, I visited his grave and as I often do, I asked for his help and intercession.  He had been an inspiration for me and through his loving presence, I had moved forward in my journey on many occasions.  This week, however, things are different.  I know who I am meant to be and I know who I am, but to hear the news of this broken man makes my heart hurt and the solitude makes the pain just a little worse.  What scares me about all this is that the Church continues to produce men who enter a world that is unhealthy and sick.  Even recently, I have seen the manipulation and conniving nature of the men that are being formed for ministry.  It isn’t all of them, but even if it's just one, it is one too many. 

I look today at my own journey and give thanks to God.  I will continue to serve with love and joy and will do my best to be a model of faith that is holy and whole.  But as any great philosophy or spiritual leader will say, this growth does not come without pain.  There can be no doubt, there is pain and maybe my visits to Fr. Tom’s grave will become less frequent, but as for where I am going, there is growth and hopefully, a witness of love. 

Thank you for your time and please know that I am alright, I will be alright.  As always, remember that you are beautiful and you are loved.