honey.

AMDG

I, a man (like a bear) safe and warm in his cave, seeing the snow blanket the earth in white, watching the stuff glitter in the air, hearing the wind howl, to you, Reader, wherever you are, warm in your cave or cold in the wind. Love and peace to you, and Christmas greetings. We raise our hearts in thanks to the Lord who has given us so much, even himself. I hope it makes you leap for joy to be so near to one so great! Rejoice!

Lately I have known a certain unease in how easy things have been for me. Despite being unacceptable to the church as a religious candidate, I have felt the warmth of Jesuit and Franciscan men affirming and encouraging me. In the valley, I have met a marvelous friend. Within my community, I have found that my bishop is LGBTQ-friendly, my pastor preaches unity, my city is full of allies, and my workplace is proudly queer. I have found prominent voices in the church decrying the marginalization of LGBTQ people and I have found backstage hands also working to turn the wheels of progress. When I faced my fears and came out to a best friend and my pastor, I found that their love and acceptance did not waver. I was even edified recently by the experience of a lady-friend of mine who is trans and who reconnected with her southern, red-type family after a decade of separation. I walk in a spirit of confidence in the Lord.

This summer I followed my calling and faced a firmly closed door. It was a cold, uncompromising denial. Despite the surging passion in my heart, my way was shut. Barred.

Although I shut them out, around me are determined trans-opposed voices as well as voices of outright fear, anger, and hostility.

Yet now that my fire is banked, now that I have no path, now that I am acting against the current of my preferences and reservations, the way is easy. No shut doors. No roadblocks. If this were a novel, I would be sure it was a trap. Not only does the change give me gooseflesh, but it also frustrates me: why couldn’t I receive this acceptance at the door to the Jesuit house?

There is room here, perhaps, to remember Matthew 11:30, but I received another response to this dissonance. At a prayer session recently, one of my friends received the image of a cask of honey. He confessed that he could neither summon nor create an explanation for what it meant or what to do with it. But the Spirit (I hope!) completed the thought in my mind: you don’t need to explain a honeypot. It’s honey. Enjoy it.

So I receive. I will stop trying to metagame my life. Let blessings be blessings, open doors be open doors, honey be honey. I thank God for all the rest, help, and sweetness in my life; Lord, you fill my cup and it runneth over!

I hope your cup is also being filled this Christmas and beyond. We can all use it! Pray, please, for a few friends-of-friends of mine who are sick. Pray also for all those considering suicide. And then tell me how to pray for you.

Peace,

Your Other Brother.

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