Acceptance vs. Acceptability
Theology of the Closet
I’ve been wondering for some time now how I build more radically inclusive, justice oriented, queer spiritual community, and also been wanting to establish myself more as a public theologian of sorts. It hit me this morning that the best way to do all this is to just do it. So, today I’m kicking off a new series of writing that explores a radically queer interpretation of Christian scripture.
We’ll dive into a lectionary reading based on the UMC’s Revised Common Lectionary (and I may mix it up with readings from A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church by Wilda Gafney), and give you my take on the scripture and how it can be applied to our daily lives and support our mutual thriving. I believe the Gospel has nothing to do with what happens after we die, and everything to do with how we live here on earth. So, let’s dive in!
Jesus Heals on the Sabbath
Luke 13:10-17
10 One Sabbath day as Jesus was teaching in a synagogue, 11 he saw a woman who had been crippled by an evil spirit. She had been bent double for eighteen years and was unable to stand up straight. 12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Dear woman, you are healed of your sickness!” 13 Then he touched her, and instantly she could stand straight. How she praised G*d!
14 But the leader in charge of the synagogue was indignant that Jesus had healed her on the Sabbath day. “There are six days of the week for working,” he said to the crowd. “Come on those days to be healed, not on the Sabbath.”
15 But the Lord replied, “You hypocrites! Each of you works on the Sabbath day! Don’t you untie your ox or your donkey from its stall on the Sabbath and lead it out for water? 16 This dear woman, a daughter of Abraham, has been held in bondage by Satan for eighteen years. Isn’t it right that she be released, even on the Sabbath?”
17 This shamed his enemies, but all the people rejoiced at the wonderful things he did.
The Power of Acceptance
For a long list of reasons I don’t fully understand and have no interest in sharing here, Austin, TX celebrates Pride in August, close to two full months after the rest of the world. This past Saturday downtown was covered in rainbows and scantily-clad people of all genders and orientations to show the world that we’re here, we’re queer, and you can’t legislate us out of existence. For as strange as it is that this celebration/protest happens at possibly the worst time of the year to be outside in Texas, it’s proximity to this past Sunday’s lectionary reading is actually quite beautiful and enlightening.
We talk often in the queer community about being in the closet, the desire to hide away from who we really are for fear of being rejected, harassed, and even killed. The larger public discourse around the Closet is, of course, much more surface level. There are jokes about Subaru driving softball players, and Republican politicians who need to just come out already, and a strangely pervasive and often aggressive view that no one needs the closet anymore. But the reality couldn’t be farther from the truth.
The Closet is still a very real and necessary place for many queer and trans folks across the country and the world. There are still many countries with laws that make homosexuality punishable by death. Several states in the US are attempting to not only overturn the same-sex marriage ruling from the supreme court, but also bring back anti-sodomy laws. Sadly for millions of people all across the world, the Closet is still the safest place for them to live.
But it comes at a cost.
The Closet is small. Cramped. Dark. And the longer you’re in it, the worse it gets. The fear and the shame start to contort your mind, heart, and spirit (and even sometimes your physical body) into the something that is barely recognizable as human. The longer we live under the influence of this fear, the smaller and smaller our world becomes. As our spirits hunch over, all we can see is the dirt.
But let me be clear: This isn’t a call to closeted queer and trans folks to finally come out, (why do we always assume we have to put more burden on the folks already most heavy laden?). This is a call for those of us who are living out in the open to do as Jesus did.
In the story, Jesus reaches out to the hunched over woman. He moves towards her first. He did not wait for her to take the risk of coming out on her own. He extended love and acceptance towards her, likely before she could even see his face. Through this experience of true acceptance, the woman stands tall for the first time in 18 years, unburdened by the weight of shame and fear. And oh, how she praised G*d!
I don’t personally know any queer person who came out of the closet without at least one (and often many) experiences like this woman had. We don’t become who we fully are without the true and unconditional love of G*d as expressed through the people in our lives. Even though my coming out story has a lot of pain and anger wrapped up in it, it started with love. Love I felt like I didn’t deserve. Love I certainly didn’t expect. This love is what makes the Closet unnecessary and irrelevant.
I was reminded this weekend that Pride is a modern day expression of this woman’s praise. It says I am a beloved child of G*d, right now, exactly as I am. This is the power of acceptance.
What does it look like to make the Closet irrelevant in our daily lives? There are the obvious (although difficult) things like being loving and compassionate towards the people in our lives. Then there’s the less obvious (and more difficult) things like building relationships with people who don’t agree with us and being willing to step into our own discomfort to make space for others. It could also mean showing up to protests and getting involved with local mutual aid organizations. But it always means sacrificing our own comfort and acceptability to extend love to those who need it most.
The Trap of Acceptability
When we think of this sacrifice, almost immediately a long list of objections form in our minds. But what about this, but what about that, but! but! but! It’s easier to simply follow the rules or go with the flow than to step out and do what’s right.
“I support gay people, but why do they need to flaunt it?!”
“I am pro-lgbt, but why does everything have to be about sex?”
“I think people are just people, but there are only two genders!”
All people of marginalized identities have to deal with this phenomenon. It allows people in the dominant culture to feel like they’re being supportive and loving without needing them to actually change anything about themselves. It’s often referred to as respectability politics. In other words, we’ll accept this things about you, but only if you follow all these other rules. Or, “I’ll be accepting only as long as you are acceptable.”
Jesus moved into this kind of sacrifice and then immediately faced this exact scrutiny in the story. He performed a miracle! But he did it at the wrong time. The woman who was healed didn’t care what day it was. Her friends and family didn’t care what day it was. But the people who had been ignoring her pain and suffering for nearly two decades absolutely cared what day it was.
As a queer and trans person I have fallen victim to this kind of scrutiny, and been the perpetrator of it. I have feared rejection and isolation because of my queerness, so I have worked to follow all the other rules. I worked to be “perfect” so even the pharisees would have to accept me. I have gone above and beyond in nearly every situation of my life to ensure my place in my community and to earn the love I so desperately crave.
But the people who insist we follow the rules, will always find something wrong. The pharisees in our lives will never be pleased. They will see a miracle performed right in front of their faces and then declare it doesn’t count because it happened on the wrong day.
So, I’m learning to lean into the ways I don’t live up to the standard. It’s equal parts freeing and terrifying to show up as your own deeply flawed self for all to see. But this is where the healing is. This is where the joy is.
And, as I find myself praising G*d more fully despite the “rules,” the easier it is for me to stop being the pharisee in someone else’s life. When I’m busy trying to live up to some unliveable standard, I spend even more time trying to push that standard on others. There’s a deep resentment that comes along with all the rule following, "If I have to do this, you sure as hell do, too!”
True radical acceptance is the antidote to this acceptability mindset. As we experience love and acceptance, we can let go of acceptability, and as we let go of acceptability, we can more easily share this deep, life-changing acceptance. This movement happens both internally and externally. We must learn to fully accept and love ourselves, just as G*d does, and fully love and accept those around us, just as G*d does.
This story remains a visceral example of how G*d seeks us out, even in our Closet, to offer us love and acceptance, regardless of what rules it may break, and invites us into joyous celebration.
Opening The Conversation
What did this scripture or interpretation bring up for you? How do you read this story? Where are you walking around bent over under the weight of shame? Where are you the pharisee holding everyone to an impossible standard?
As always, I hope for this space to be a place of conversation, so drop a comment down below and let’s chat!