Living Brat Summer and Transgender Truth: Spiritual Insights from the Farm
Meeting the divine everywhere from academic hallways to rural woods
Returning to small town Ohio after the Outreach conference, we pulled into our farm and immediately started counting animals. Two horses, one mini-donkey, four ducks, three chickens… (there’s more but I’ll spare you). It’s a very different environment from the Victorian-Gothic halls of Georgetown University! But, despite the very different venues, I continue to seek the divine in both places. Whether in brick halls full of history or on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere with my dogs (and the occasional deer sighting), living authentically as my transgender self has deepened my spirituality in a profound way.
Sister Luisa Derouen, who has supported trans people for 25 years, recently introduced a panel of transgender Catholics at another conference earlier in the summer by illustrating the way gender transition acts as a spiritual path that can be an immense type of spiritual grace.
The fundamental spiritual question, she said, is “who am I?” Answering this question involves three main aspects:
Things are going okay in life, no major issues
A crisis happens that forces us to re-examine what we thought we knew
Gradually over time we work through the crisis, integrating and moving forward
For transgender people, the first stage is dominated by suffering where we only pretend that everything is going okay. Choosing to be honest is the crisis because it blows our lives up.
“They are no longer who they were, but not yet who they will be. They are in a broken, liminal space that is holy,” said Luisa.
Finally, as transgender people settle into expressing their authentic selves, their lives become more stable and they are able to express themselves and be who they are. This resonates with my own personal experience.
Luisa’s observations from two decades of accompaniment with the transgender community are a beautiful example of queer theology in action: LGBTQ people as a marginalized group have a unique spiritual journey that is not only beautiful, but also worth sharing with the greater community.
I also know that allies are listening. I know this because, when they come up to me and introduce themselves, they tell me about the impact of hearing from actual, real-life transgender Catholics. At conferences like Imago Dei and Outreach, I get to meet other faithful transgender Catholics, who I instantly click with over our shared experience of navigating a truly uncertain spiritual journey as we seek to become just as God made us to be.
There is power in being exactly who you are. Unapologetic. Irreverent. Speaking up.
*Youth pastor voice * And that’s exactly what Charli XCX’s brat summer is all about! Some people find brat summer awesome and some find it cringe, but everyone is talking about it—(including the social media accounts for Democrat Presidential nominee Kamala Harris)!
I don’t think my readers are among those cringing though, since they overwhelmingly voted “yes” when asked if the Outreach conference is brat summer: the gays are very loyal to their memes and brat is an exceptional meme with a loud shade of green and simple font. Aesthetics matter!
*Youth pastor voice again * So too with spirituality! I used to think God could only be found in stuffy, dry, “perfect” places. But, even when I did everything perfectly, I knew that it was only a performance, and therefore not any way to encounter the real, living God. This is a God who tells Old Testament prophets to take off their sandals, and during the crucifixion responds to the “good thief” asking Jesus to remember him by saying “today you will be with me in Paradise.” Real, vulnerable encounters.
When I met other transgender Catholics for the first time, I understood that I was not alone. The power in that knowledge is a type of sustaining strength that changes lives for the better.
So, this is where I have found the Holy Spirit – how I have experienced grace. How I have experienced trans joy even amidst an almost total rejection by everyone who told me that being Catholic meant they were the best at loving me.
Some people did stick around for me, and I was very lucky to have supportive extended family, but the losses hit hard and it deeply wounded me spiritually.
So, for a while, the woods became my church. Out in that big expanse, alone except for dogs, (and sometimes the glimpse of a deer), the mind finally slows down enough to bring the divine close. To wonder about our ancestors and how they had to listen to the trees, study the sky for signs of impending weather; how they lived, anchored to the rhythms of life that resonate most naturally in the human body. It’s primal in a way that simplifies things, granting a perspective foreign to modern life (which is so often allergic to anything too “real”).
But if we do take that perspective back into daily life, we can look at modern problems in new ways, ultimately bringing us closer to solutions. This is yet another example of the way that diversity in all its forms is obviously a gift from God, and not the result of some sin. The sooner the church understands this, the better things will be as the whole community benefits from the myriad gifts of people in the LGBTQ community.
And so, let me offer a very informal prayer with a slightly tongue in cheek reference:
Oh, Lord, as we enter this brat summer, let us embrace that spirit of genuine authenticity – (even if we don’t embrace that particular shade of green!)
When each one of us brings our unique gifts to the table, it makes things better for everyone.
