Trans and Christian
Sometime in the mid-90s, my girlfriend and I were talking and somehow transgender people came up. I wasn’t clear what that meant, and she explained that a person could be “a woman with a man’s body” or vice-versa.
“So — a woman with a man’s body who was attracted to women would be a lesbian with a man’s body?”
“Yes.”
“That’s what I am. I’m a lesbian with a man’s body.” It was an “Aha!” moment, which I obviously still remember. So many things suddenly made sense. Unfortunately, that particular girlfriend was mentally and emotionally abusive, and my revelation that I was trans lesbian was added to her arsenal of slings and arrows to be hurled at me. We did do some gender swapping, mostly when she wanted to, but I stopped talking about being trans. There wasn’t much information about it in my world and it didn’t seem like a big deal.
The fact is — I had bigger problems. I was a decade into a raging combination of depression and substance abuse and I just didn’t have the time or energy to think about being trans. I finally got sober, and got appropriate treatment for my depression in 1998. I guess the girlfriend shared my belief that me getting sober and taking medication would solve our relationship problems. We split up for the last time in 2003.
By then, I had gotten used to thinking of myself as a man with a feminine side. I might, if I was feeling confident, go so far as telling the woman I was seeing that I was “kinda like a lesbian with a man’s body”, but never with conviction. I had more female friends than male friends. I preferred bands with female singers because I identified with them more — especially if they were openly lesbian. I stayed sober, and got really into religion. I studied various different forms of religion and myth from all over the world, finding a lot to appreciate in all of them, but not feeling drawn to any in particular.
I went to college. I had a kid with another girlfriend who didn’t take my tentative claim to be a lesbian with a man’s body very seriously. Transgender people entered the national conversation. I met a few trans people, one of whom I asked too much of, asking questions about trans-ness as if they were there to explain things to me. In December, 2018, I became a Christian — suddenly and without intending to. I was called to ministry and started taking steps toward ordination. My spiritual awakening cost me several “friends” — liberal atheists who weren’t as accepting of diversity as they pretended to be — but it also made it possible for me to finally and fully realize that I am transgender and lesbian.
Becoming Christian meant figuring out what my new identity was. I was reading the Bible, listening to progressive Christian podcasts, thinking and praying, trying to get my head around what being Christian meant to me, and I realized that God loves individuals for their individuality. If not, why would He make us individuals? My future ministry, I knew, would emphasize this point. It followed, then, that I should embrace my own individuality and give it — give myself — completely to God. The fact that I am trans lesbian just fell into place.
I’m a member of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, ELCA. We ordain women and LGBTQ+ folks. I’ve come out to the committee that oversees my path to ordination and it’s not a problem. I experience very mild gender dysphoria — not enough to motivate me to physically transition. I see pronouns as conveniences of language which don’t reflect my identity — so I don’t care what pronouns people use to refer to me. I’m an introvert and I’ve been celibate for ten years. Some of my close friends — women, lesbian or bisexual — know I’m trans, but I’m not out to family or coworkers.
At this strange moment in history, many people believe that Christians are, and must be, heterosexual and cis-gender, and opposed to anyone who isn’t. Others think that trans women must present femme, or that trans lesbians are men who dress in drag and try to bully lesbians into sex. And here I am — trans lesbian, celibate, bearded, tattooed and Christian. I’m a punk, a dad, a seminarian and a socialist. I love coffee, cats, Jesus and country blues from the 1920s and ’30s. I play guitar, make quilts, work at a homeless shelter and wear women’s underwear.
God loves individuals, and in Him there are no contradictions. Everyone is free to be all that they are, whether it makes sense or not. Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise. God help me.