These images of God next to each other make no sense, they seem contradictory, confusing, and even ridiculous. We hear in these a common human experience of brokenness, blindness, a need for healing and companion to walk with us.
God, through Jesus Christ, calls all of us to give not only of our abundance, but to the extent that we can, from our poverty as well. It could be money and riches, as in this narrative from St. Mark, but it could be time, our skills, or just simply our love.
Today’s readings are touchy: in our first reading from Genesis, we read about the mythical creation of man and woman and their union as “one flesh” — this is compounded by Jesus’s own allusion back to the story of creation
When I first came out 20 years ago and began a journey of reconciling my faith, sexuality, and gender, I felt that I had to prove my catholic identity by out-catholicing all those who “critiqued” my lifestyle.
Looking for some real-world volunteering experience collaborating with young professionals on a forward-looking queer Catholic brand? Look no further!
I recently attended my first drag show. The show itself was wonderful, but what struck me the most was the atmosphere of being surrounded by fellow Queers, something I have rarely experienced in real life.
However, there is also an undeniable truth: a cross has been inflicted upon us. I can’t lie and say being in that chapel at fifteen didn’t feel like the worst kind of humiliation, I can’t lie and say that at the time, the guilt for my unquestionable gayness felt like a heavy yoke, pressing down my neck, drying up my throat, and breaking my tiny gay heart in two.
I think for a very long time many years in fact I’ve sort of lost sight of who I am; of what really matters.
Leaning into the rhythms of Catholicism can help us find deeper theological truths when God is hard to see.