doubting thomasine

yes I'm sure your church is different and better but no I am not interested.

I attended a (LGBT+ inclusive, of course) church service with a transgender friend recently, because she insisted that no really it was actually really nice and that she knew some people there who would love to meet me.

This is what that felt like.

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Greetings! I really can’t express how wonderful it is to be here today with all of you. This is a really lovely place, you know that? Just looking around makes me feel so grateful to be here with you all. Really! I’d never been here before, and honestly? I was a little bit nervous. This place has kind of a reputation, you know? Some people out there — not all of them, but some of them — well, they’re a little bit down on this place. They say doing this, being here, isn’t worth it, if you can believe it, what with the way things can be and well, the way people are here.

They are of course entitled to their opinions of course.

But I’ve had a wonderful time so far, and I’m just going to come out and say it: I think they’re jealous. I’m starting to think that everybody who told me that just must have been exceptionally rude, if they weren’t just outright lying, because everyone here has been so kind to me. I’m starting to think that, well, they might have just visited some other place that isn’t this one. Is there another place that’s just exactly like this one in every way, with the same name and location but bad where they must have somehow gone and been? That’s how different this place is from what those people told me. That’s how different you are.

People aren’t always so nice to people like me, and I’m learning that they aren’t very nice to you either. I don’t mean to imply that we’re the same, of course; you get to spend your time here in this, can I say it again, absolutely lovely place and I don’t. But I think we could maybe be friends. I’ve been all over and, looking around, this is just about my favorite place I’ve been that isn’t where I’m from, because that’s where my heart is, although there are a lot of things that there and here have in common. You wouldn’t know it, but I do, and I think that if you went there you might feel the same way but in reverse. Home is where the heart is, isn’t that true? My home’s there for me and yours here’s there for you.

Now, I haven’t been here nearly as long as most of you. I haven’t been here for any time at all really; not enough time to see the way things get throughout the year; to see the ways everything changes and stays the same. And I freely admit that without a complete picture like the one you undoubtedly have it’s really difficult for me to do justice to the way things are here that here deserves to have. But I can tell you this: I haven’t spoken with a single person who hasn’t been ready to put down whatever they were doing and help me figure out how this place works, except for the ones who weren’t working on something more important, of course. But you can’t expect them to step away; I wouldn’t, and I didn’t, and even still they weren’t unpleasant. I hope I haven’t been a bother.

Thank you, thank you. Thank yourselves! You’ve made a wonderful beautiful joyful place for people like me and people like you, who aren’t always safe in the world out there, to focus on what’s really important in.

Now, before we get started I just want to thank our hosts for providing such a gorgeous venue. Everything looks stunning. You can really tell what’s important to you as a group just by looking, really looking, at how everything is all laid out. I love the light and the symbolism and how warm and welcoming this space feels — how it makes me feel just being lucky enough to be here today with all of you. And well, if I can be honest with you for just a moment? I’ve been around — not all over, but around enough to know what’s up in the places where I’ve been, and having been in those places I can tell you that I’ve been in places where that isn’t necessarily the case — or worse, places where it is, and where they don’t really have the right sense of what matters. Well, it might be what matters to them, but it isn’t what matters to me. Or to you, for that matter. We know what matters to us, and it isn’t necessarily what matters to other people; those other people who do know what matters are members of us, and the ones who don’t, well, we hope they see reason.

I am moved. I am moved just by being here with all of you today, all of us intent on our common purpose. I am deeply and irrevocably changed by this experience, as I hope through my efforts things beyond and above me will irrevocably change you. Everybody needs change — for some of us, that change will shake things up, which we have to be prepared to accept, and for some of us, that change will come in the form of stability, as long as we trust that that change is going to happen whether we like it or not, maintain our steady course towards what we believe we know is right, and are strong enough to let go.

Can you feel it? I’d like to invite you to close your eyes with me, and take a deep breath, and focus on what we all know is there. It can be easy to lose track of things we know because of how much goes on in the world today, but in here, in here, we aspire that this should be made to be a place of peace. We prepare ourselves for what comes next; for what has been asked of us and what we know we must do. We know that there is no reason to be afraid, because we will be provided for. As we speak we are being provided for and sustained. You can feel it now. You can know: it is safe to let down your burdens here. This is a place of safety and healing; a place where everyone, no matter who, can be welcome always. This is a place of love.

I can feel that love, and I know you can too. We want what is good and right; we want what is real and true; we want what is best for each other.

Once again, thank you for having me. Now who’s first to get their nipples cut off?