Psalm 124; Isaiah 54:1-10; Matthew 24:23-35
I’m scared right now.
Government agencies I’ve taken for granted my entire life are disappearing. The sun is darkening.
I’m scared when I hear of yet another transphobic law or policy that restricts the rights of trans people to exist in public spaces. Like a bathroom bill, or a policy that sex is immutable and assigned at birth. Or when I hear of another trans person that died way too young under suspicious circumstances at best, like Jax Gratton or Nex Benedict. Or when I have to look up the laws of a state I’m traveling to for my own safety.
I’m scared when I think of my financial situation right now. It’s scary for most people, but there’s an additional layer for those who are trans. I’ve seen so many of my trans friends get fired or forced out of their jobs because including them made the workplace “too gay” or “too woke.” I’ve seen trans friends move out of the country because it just became far too dangerous to stay here, and I’ve strongly considered if I need to leave, too. The money I make right now is just barely enough to keep paying rent and my utilities. And I also have trans friends who are heavily underemployed for their education and experience, despite looking for appropriate work for over a year.
Our world is changing. That isn’t debatable. But we have a say in how it changes.
I’m doing things that help our world change for the better. I protest, call my congress people, and organize with others in my community to testify for the causes we believe in.
But that’s not all I do to help our world change for the better. I also suggest books for my library to buy, cook delicious food for me and my spouse, watch cool tv shows, and enjoy nature walks. I also play Dungeons and Dragons and video games. I draw, write poetry, and sing.
I advocate for change and find joy.
I’ve been constantly thinking about a quote from Dan Savage: “During the darkest days of the AIDS crisis we buried our friends in the morning, we protested in the afternoon, and we danced all night, and it was the dance that kept us in the fight because it was the dance we were fighting for.”
Joy is resistance. It’s what keeps us going, sustains us for the work still ahead of us. It calms us down, so that we can breathe and actually consider how we want to respond. When we are still afraid, we react without thinking or freeze in fear. Our joy and creativity give us powerful tools.
Rest is also resistance. Those in power want us too tired to organize or resist them. They want us too tired to think properly. Rest restores and renews us. With it, we can catch details we might otherwise miss, and our life feels much more worth living. It’s easier to find joy when we have rest!
The world as we know it is ending. Our old systems are being torn to shreds. Our systems that are failing now never really worked for everyone. These systems target some people and let others fall through the cracks. The police and ICE and, too often, whole communities terrorize people of color and immigrants. The government uses bureaucracy to keep resources away from disabled people. Parents put their trans children on the streets.
There are more empty houses than people that need them. And yet billions of dollars of our taxes go towards bombs and weapons and armies and gilding the White House. We destroy our natural environment in the name of profits, especially in the vicinity of marginalized communities.
These systems are failing. Even when they worked as designed, they failed us.
“So also, when you see all these things, you know that [Jesus] is near, at the very gates.” Matthew 24:33 NRSVUE
When our old systems are failing, when the world as we know it is coming to an end, that is when Jesus is near. Because when our old systems fall away, then we have a blank slate. We can rethink what we really value, and what we want our systems to do. We can focus on making systems that have kin-dom values, like hospitality, sustainability, care for the marginalized.
When our old systems are broken, that’s when the kin-dom of God can break in. Like a dandelion growing in the cracks in a broken sidewalk, God’s kin-dom breaks into our broken systems.
When our systems don’t care for our neighbors, we have to. When our economic system isn’t working for people, we reconnect with our communities seeking help. We find connections that our old system has been trying to isolate us from. We remember our history, and how those that resisted before did that, and use that as a model for how we can resist now.
At the preschool I work at, I’ve learned that kids can have so much power. When 10 kids are disobeying the teacher at the same time, it is remarkably hard for that teacher to regain control of the classroom. Just because all of them decided to do it at the same time, and the teacher only has 1 body to do things with.
If our government starts ignoring its own laws, how much more resistance can a bunch of creative, organized adults put up? With the dismantling of the old deeply flawed systems, we have a new opportunity. We have the opportunity to create new systems, that have fewer cracks for people to fall into. We have the opportunity to forge stronger communities. We have the opportunity to create a world of abundance, where people and nature are cared for first and foremost, rather than money generated for the rich. We have the opportunity to create a world where people don’t have to work at all to get the resources they need, and when people choose to work, they can work less every week and still be full-time.
We can create a world that isn’t rooted in racism, or ableism, or saneism, or sexism, or queerphobia, or white-supremacy. We can create a more loving world, with the help of God.
It won’t be easy, it won’t be linear, and there’s no one “right” way to do it. But I know that we are already living into the better world that we can create.
We are living into a better world when we teach our kids how to care for one another with love, and teach them how to regulate their own emotions. We slow down to help each other instead of rushing ahead thinking “not my problem”. We create art for ourselves and for one another. We share a cat video with someone we love. We call someone into greater relationship when they do something harmful. We have compassion and empathy for one another. We dance as we wait in line for something. We resist someone else’s rights being taken away. We seek creative nonviolent solutions to complicated problems, like protesting injustice in an inflatable frog suit.
Shout for joy, oh barren one! Burst into song and shout! The joy will fuel the work, and the fun will sustain you. The creativity and imagination will be tools towards our collective liberation. Enlarge the site of your tent, for all will be included.
And whatever changes await us; God’s Unconditional, Liberating Love remains steadfast through it all.
Terra Jubilee Greer graduated from Candler School of Theology with a Master’s of Divinity in 2020, with a Women’s Studies in Theology and Ministry Certificate and a Justice, Peace, and Conflict Transformation concentration. She is a trans person, and is passionate about inclusion in various forms. He is part of the IDEA committee in Wheat Ridge, as well as the Disability Committee for the Mountain Sky Conference of the United Methodist Church, and a member of Affirmation, the founding organization of the Reconciling Ministries Network in the UMC. They have volunteered with the Transmission Ministry Collective, which is a worldwide online community of Trans People of Faith, and she does ongoing inclusion work as part of Juniper Formation in the ONA 2.0 workshops. She brings her experiences from all of these into his preaching, always approaching the texts with an eye to lifting up marginalized communities and stories. They enjoy singing, writing, and experiencing stories of all kinds. She loves to go for hikes and long walks outside, and is always learning new things about the world around him and the people in it. She lives with his spouse, Faryn, and their dog, Selah, in Wheat Ridge, Colorado.
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