This gathering had all the usual elements one might imagine of something that looks remarkably like a church service:
– an initial phase of self-critique, unknotting and letting go;
– an activity (singing a hymn) to draw everyone together;
– a period of prayer, allowing the recognition of the littleness of humanity when placed against the vista of the cosmos;
– a couple of contrasting readings to stretch the intellect, and perhaps to open doors to new landscapes;
– atmospheric musical interludes to allow us to make sense beyond words of what we were hearing;
– a reflection by the leader on the two readings, leading to a suggestion for future action;
– a period of active listening in which those matters weighing heavily or joyfully upon us could be declared and shared;
– prayer of self-dedication, helping us to listening for what is being asked of us in the day ahead and more generally;
– more group activity in reciting together some favoured words, and singing another hymn; and
– some closing words.
So that’s that, then. What remains to be said? Well, how about what was actually said?
This gathering was celebrating PrideTide, the month of June specifically and the summer months in general, when, widely, queer people celebrate who they are and what life means to them.
For some, Pride means celebrating their survival in a hostile environment, perhaps against the odds. For others, it might feel freer and more joyful, a chance to truly express who they are. The support of families and allies can be acknowledged, too. The period of Pride is also a time when perhaps everyone, queer or not, can recognise the contribution of queer perspectives to every field of life.
Didymus is a group gathering in the name of religious faith and spirituality, so this gathering in PrideTide looked at queer theology — how queer perspectives can shed new insights on our inheritance (which is the bundle of stories regarding Jesus, and how those stories can shape our daily living).
So how about the readings? Well, the first was from the Gospel of Thomas (verses 22 and 106) in which Jesus says, When you make the two into one, and when you make the inner like the outer and the outer like the inner, and the upper like the lower, and when you make male and female into a single one, so that the male will not be male nor female be female, when you make eyes in place of an eye, a hand in place of a hand, a foot in place of a foot, an image in place of an image, then you will enter the Kingdom.
The second reading was from a book by a priest in the Episcopalian Church (an Anglican Church based in the USA), Rev Elizabeth Edman. Title: Queer Virtue. Edman suggests that Jesus breaks down simplistic dualisms all the time, which resonates very strongly with queer people, who have had to do the same thing in their own lives, simply to make a space in which they can live. And that looking at the stories in Christianity from a queer perspective may cascade a whole new set of insights, about those Christian stories, that in the end would help everyone claiming a life within Christianity to act more aligned with the espoused spirit of the faith.
And when it came to reflecting on those readings, the president of the day included a review of recent statistics from England and Wales regarding hate crime against queer people, and reports about global campaigning against oppression of queer people, from the campaigning group All Out.
She said, “It’s always worth looking at statistics and reports like these. We are so lucky in western Europe, where many countries have legislated for marriages of same-sex partners, that we can imagine that the fight has been won. But it hasn’t. Not even here. Not even in legal terms. Equal marriage in UK does not extend to marriage for non-binary people. The law specifies marriage as a contract between a man and a woman; between two men; or between two women. At present, as I understand it, unless they perjure themselves and say they are something that they are not — unless they shoehorn themselves into one binary category or other as defined by the law — non-binary people in the UK cannot marry anyone at all. They have to pretend to be something they are not.”
Our president looked for ways that queer theology can help us in our lives of faith, and three examples she came up with all boiled down to helping us become more open than we currently are, and more humble.
She reminded us that there are ways and ways of welcoming people. We can do it patronisingly, implicitly demanding that new people from minority groups conform to our existing ways before 'welcoming' them in; or we can recognise that our inherited way of worshipping, of thinking and talking about God and spirituality, is derived from white, male, middle class, colonial, intellectual and analytical thinking and judging and speaking, that stretches continuously back, way beyond the eighteenth century, in England and the broader UK. And that we should be braver and invite new people in, not to help them, but to help us. To help us see our failings and help us break down our narrow-minded ways, and the assumed hierarchies that lie buried behind our behaviour. She suggested that there can be no hierarchies when it comes to children of God.
For ongoing action, she asked us to use this PrideTide to take a good hard look at ourselves, and humbly see how much we contribute to continuing problems today — and also to celebrate with queer communities everywhere !
