We’ve all heard the phrase “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.” It’s an interesting quote. It dates back to the late 1800’s and comes from a publication of the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church. The thought behind it was that insults (the use of the “N” word was coming into common usage) can’t really hurt you, they are mere words – unlike physically taking a beating.

But you know what? Bones heal. Those physical wounds heal.

“The church has one big log in its eye because here is a huge, deep, gaping hole where repentance is needed. It starts with each of us.“

As the admin of a couple of groups in Facebook for Christians who are transgender, I can tell you it’s almost a daily occurrence to hear of how someone is genuinely suffering due to what was said to them by Christian friends or family members or worse, church leaders. Their angst is palpable. The hopelessness, the longing for love and understanding is so evident and yet they get exactly the opposite of love and understanding. They get isolation and condemnation. And they get it from all sides. They are totally surrounded by people telling them being transgender is a sin. That the Bible condemns what they do (when in fact we’re talking about WHO they are.) And EVERYONE involved are people who love (or claim to) love Jesus and follow Him. These are wounds that cut very, very deep and can take a very long time to heal, if ever.

My own Christian parents and siblings cut me out of their lives twenty-five years ago when I transitioned. Seventeen years ago a church I loved (that knew at the beginning that I was trans and welcomed me) told me a year later that I needed to “change back” or I could no longer be part of the church. I carried the wound of those words fourteen more years before I found a church home that I could again love and feel like it was where God wanted me, but even there I tread lightly about letting others know I’m transgender.

And then four months ago I went to a conference for women speakers/preachers. It was a God thing that I even felt compelled to go as I’m neither a speaker or preacher, I don’t even go to dinner or movies alone because it’s just no fun by myself, yet I went to this two-day conference all alone, two hours away from home, getting a hotel room to stay overnight, knowing not a single person who was speaking nor anyone in attendance – SO unlike me and yet I wanted to be there. But it was through that conference I met a pastor of a church from the other side of town where I live. We became friends, and she invited me to her church’s women’s group that met once a week. A couple of months later I saw that she was going to be preaching on “Coming out…in Support of LGBTQ”. Having NEVER heard a message like that come from a pulpit – ANY pulpit I visited her church that Sunday to here how she addressed it.

She shared her own story of growing up a Southern Baptist and how her heart and mind were changed when she learned her two aunts, whom she loved to the moon and back were gay. It forced her to really think about what she believed and what the Bible says. This is how she ended her message…

“Friends, we are losing lives over our treatment of God’s beloved children, and it’s not okay. The Church has messed up and the Church need to own up and apologize.

It is beyond frustrating to watch systemic racism go unnoticed and unaddressed by the white church. It is so disappointing to observe patriarchy not only protected, but also preserved and lifted up at every turn. Knowing that these broken systems produce so much sin. So much violence and abuse. Countless evils. And yet a Christian will refuse to even entertain the thought that it can be holy in the eyes of God for a transgender person to live fully into the person God has created them to be. Or that it can be holy for committed, monogamous healthy relationships to exist between people of the same gender. I believe this is so wrong and so very harmful.

It was like being hit with a percussive shockwave of reconciliation.

On any given Sunday, in any given church, there is so much talk of repentance. The church has one big log in its eye because here is a huge, deep, gaping hole where repentance is needed. It starts with each of us. And so to all LGBTQ people, and especially to those LGBTQ Christians who have been denied Christ time and time again by his very Church, I say to you… I’m sorry.” (allow me to interrupt here, apparently I was the only person in the congregation that she was aware of that would fall under the “LGBTQ” umbrella, so when she got to those two words, she turned my directions and was looking right at me when she said “I’m sorry”.  She continued with…

“I’m sorry for the years I spent denying your humanity.
I’m sorry for the time I’ve wasted not advocating on your behalf.
I’m sorry for being distracted by your person-hood instead of fighting against things that are actually evil: like sexual assault, abuse, and harassment.
I’m sorry for choosing harmful theology over love,
I’m sorry for choosing fear over love.

From here on out, with the help of my Lord Jesus Christ, I promise to risk for you. To speak for you when you have no voice. To affirm your wholeness in Christ to all and to protect your right to every God-given gift under the sun.”

Those two words; “I’m sorry” in that moment, when we made eye contact were so profound it has actually taken a couple of months for me to process it all and be able to share it with you.

The POWER of those two words. The impact they had on my spirit. It was unexpected. I wasn’t prepared. It was like being hit with a percussive shockwave of reconciliation. It took everything within me to not burst into a bawling mess of humanity right there in the service. Hearing those words come from the pulpit of a church, and spoken with honest and heartfelt sincerity were so healing, so soothing, so NEW!

I see change happening in Christ’s church, and it gives me hope.

Many of my own personal wounds were healed when I found my current church, but as I found out that Sunday morning I had a wound that hadn’t been healed yet. It may not ever be completely healed for me when there are so many churches where those two simple words may never be spoken toward transgender Christians who have been at best tolerated, set aside, ignored or out and out condemned. It’s just what God has laid on my heart. I see change happening in Christ’s church, and it gives me hope.

For you, I pray whatever wounds you have that have come from the the words of others will find their healing in Christ’s love. Psalm 147:2-3 says “The Lord builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the outcasts of Israel. He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” If you feel like an outcast, you’re brokenhearted – remember that our Lord is there and wants to heal those wounds (and He LOVES outcasts like you!) Those healing words may come from friends or they may come from family and I pray those healing words will come out of more pulpits on Sunday mornings.

Oh, and if you’re NOT an outcast – find one of your brothers or sisters who are and tell them “I’m sorry,” they probably wouldn’t object to a hug either.

Blessings!

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