We See You, Beloved

I have the privilege of being part of the pastoral team that leads a Sunday service at Micah Ecumenical Ministries, a local non-profit for individuals in the city of Fredericksburg facing homelessness. This beautiful gathering of people includes all walks of life and all colors of the rainbow. It is a wonderful place where I can truly see the “kin-dom of God” in one space worshiping and interacting together without boundaries of race, class or even sexuality.

One Sunday during lent, we were focusing on the story of blind Bartimaeus. We discussed how Bartimaeus would have been an outsider of Jericho and was often overlooked by the community, disregarded as “less-than.” Yet, Jesus heard the cry of Bartimaeus and had mercy on him. Despite how the world viewed him, Jesus sees the unseen. Jesus sees their whole self and can use their story for his glory.

Her name was Tess*. While she had not clarified her pronoun preference to me, I made an assumption that she was trans when I met her a couple of weeks prior. However, I did not want to ask outright because I did not want to embarrass her (or myself) if I was wrong. Unfortunately, what they say about assuming is true. Before the service, Tess came up to me and asked to be involved. While she did not want a task that involved speaking in front of the group, she liked the idea of participating in something in the background. I gave her a task and announced her role to the group during the service.

Now, I am an ally. I care about inclusion and proper pronoun usage to honor a person’s gender identity. Yet, even with this background, I still made a mistake. I did not fully see Tess. Even worse, I accidentally embarrassed her in front of her collective community by referring to her as him…Loudly. In front of everyone. When the words came out of my mouth, the room stood still. I realized the mistake I made and quickly turned to apologize. Before I could, I saw her reaction. It was like I slapped her in front of everyone. My heart sank and broke into a thousand pieces.

I immediately stopped what I was saying and apologized to her in front of the whole group. I asked what pronoun she preferred and Tess responded, “she.” I clarified my comment, apologizing again, then moving on with the discussion.

While Tess had not clarified her gender identity to me, I still felt terrible. I came across as another person (not to mention, another person from the Church) who did not respect her identity. Another person who did not see her. During passing of the peace I hugged her and said, ‘I’m sorry; forgive me.’ I told her I had every intention to honor who she is completely.

Then, something beautiful happened. After originally not wanting to speak up in the group, she decided she wanted to spontaneously read aloud her favorite scripture, the beatitudes in the “sermon on the mount.” I believe this reading was timely and a cue from the Holy Spirit. “Blessed are those who are mourning (or, lament)…for they will be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4, NRSV)

During this season of lent, we are reminded to repent the ways we fail to deny ourselves for the sake of Christ. While we are an affirming group of mostly cis-gendered, hetero-normative, Jesus-loving-folk seeking to lift up those in the queer community; our privilege in that spectrum can still rear its ugly head when we least expect it. Being progressive in our ideology does not excuse us from having innate righteousness. Let us challenge ourselves to stop long enough in this season to lament our transgressions against our LGBTQ siblings. May we take time to recognize the times we have failed to see them the way Jesus saw Bartimaeus.

While we must own-up to our mistakes, accidents can happen and we are learning together. Authenticity matters. Ultimately, I am grateful that I had this humbling experience. It helped me to grow. My hope is that one day we can fully live into the slogan of “all means all.” My prayer is that all can be seen for who they truly are and embraced with the complete love of God. Inclusion is a non-negotiable in the greatest commandment. Loving our neighbor is honoring personal pronoun preferences and seeing the whole person that God created us to be. May we all seek to love one another and resist harm by truly seeing one another the way Jesus sees us: as beloved.

Chelsea Morse is a M.Div candidate at Union Presbyterian Seminary. She has recently been approved for licensing school to become a licensed local pastor and currently serves part time at Micah Ecumenical Ministries in Fredericksburg, Virginia. There she serves as the Community Engagement Navigator, a pastoral role helping to train and equip churches and saints on how to be relational over transactional when serving the displaced population. Chelsea is passionate about missional worship communities and justice initiatives around affordable housing. She is a “boy-mom” by day and a “Karaoke-diva” by night, loving Jesus the whole way through.

*names have been changed