Ecclesiastes 3:1-13; Psalm 8; Revelation 21:1-6a; Matthew 25:31-46
On December 31, 1862, enslaved and free African Americans gathered for Freedom’s Eve. Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation on September 22nd, but it did not become law until January 1st. Gathering in secret, the soon to be liberated sang songs, told stories and counted down the seconds until their freedom materialized.
Honoring the legacy of the first Watch Night, some Black churches sing-in the New Year and tell stories that inspire their community to continue seeking liberation and freedom (internally and externally) from all that is oppressing them. This week’s texts similarly encourage us to claim our wholeness, draw closer to God and to dream beyond the limits of what is realistic in the confines of our current world.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-13 reminds us that impossibly hard, hopeless and hurtful seasons can transform as winter shifts into spring. Unlike theologies that blame the oppressed for their lot in life, Ecclesiastes makes it clear that God is the divine clockmaker that recalibrates our hearts, unburdens our mind and orients our lives. God doesn’t just liberate us, God delights when we enjoy our work, eat festive meals and experience the joy of life through all of our senses.
Each stanza (1-8) lays out stark contrasting behaviors without judgement. The good, the hard, and the beautiful all have a time and place. Most of the verses begin with seemingly destructive or negative verbs and shift to repair, kindness and peace.
Breaking the pattern, planting is uprooted, embrace leads to letting go and love turns to hate. Is this rhetorical turn meant to keep us on our toes, remembering that life is unpredictable? Could the words be intended to comfort those who have experienced love that is negative? No matter how you relate to each word, the text is a rhythmical reminder that change is an unstoppable force, whether you embrace it or not.
Trans individuals may relate to the idea that seasons of life shift and change. Some may have had a season for pants, a season for dresses, a season of abundance, a season of health, a season of doubt, a season of loneliness, a season of euphoria, a season of unrestrained romantic love, a season of overeating, a season of undereating, a season of loving their skin, a season that left stretch marks, a season of grief, a season of starting again and wonder what is to come in the seasons ahead.
It was illegal to dress in the clothing of the opposite sex in San Francisco on January 1, 1965. The 1863 law originated in the desire to arrest someone in a costume before they attempted to rob a bank. For nearly a century it was used to arrest poor LGBTQ and gender transgressing individuals. At the same time, wealthy, primarily white, vaudeville performers, opera singers and actors were not arrested when they embraced the trans aesthetic or lived openly transgressive lives.
After an arrest, the San Francisco Police Department put the names, home addresses and sometimes the photos of trans and gender non-conforming people in the newspapers. They also called the employers of trans people to ensure that they lost their job before they were released from jail.
Despite the law, José Julio Saria, an Army veteran and the first openly LGBTQ individual to run for political office, openly performed in drag for decades. Throughout the 1950s, José performed arias at the Black Cat Cafe. California’s Alcohol and Beverage Control (ABC) authorities, at the persistent nudging of advocates from the Parent Teacher Association (PTA), regularly sought to shut down LGBTQ spaces. It took nearly a decade of legal battles to close the Black Cat.
Despite the danger, in 1965, José planned a New Year’s Day Mardi Gras Ball to raise start-up funds for the Council on Religion and the Homosexual. Created by LGBTQ leaders in partnership with Methodist, Presbyterian, Lutheran and UCC pastors, the Council advocated for the poor members of the LGBTQ community who were most affected by the local laws.
The Rev. Cecil Williams, of Glide Memorial Church, made an agreement with the San Francisco Police Department before the celebration. The local district agreed not to raid the party. Unexpectedly, officers from another police district showed up at California Hall that New Year’s Day. The officers brought arrest wagons and began taking pictures of everyone entering and exiting the ball. The next day, the pastors held a press conference and spoke out publicly against the anti-LGBTQ bias in laws and their enforcement. The lawyers arrested at the event, sued the city and ultimately worked to get the laws changed a decade later in 1974.
A year later, in 1975, Diana Sommers won a jury trial arguing that because she was a trans woman, she was not-guilty of impersonating the opposite sex. Publicly shamed by the papers, her bravery informed other trans individuals that they could also demand their rights in court. Soon after, a trans man named Reed Erickson, funded a program that enabled Sgt Elliot Blackstone to train trans women and help them retain jobs as secretaries.
These changes were dramatic and radical. San Francisco’s Summer of Love continues to inspire people around the world to embrace a new season in their life, love and gender expression. But, these changes did not last forever. As wonderful as San Francisco is, it is not a perpetually ever-flowing stream of justice. Trans people in San Francisco and around the world continue to advocate for employment opportunities, judicial equity, for space in religious spaces and for the right to self-identify.
These days the negative news can easily cultivate feelings of overwhelm and powerlessness. Unhelpful court rulings, economic injustice and racism is still palpably present in our worlds. We need liberation and freedom to dwell with us for longer than a season!
Psalm 8 reminds us that the injustices that loom large in our day to day lives are not visible from space. Zooming out, sitting with photographs that show the ever-expanding beauty of the galaxy can help us detach from the microaggressions that seek to distract us from our calling. Some days we need to untangle ourselves from the weary world to take in the beautifully colored lights of the aurora borealis. Other days, we need to be reminded that God zooms in on our lives, and longs to dwell with us in both good times and in the ache.
The loving undertones of Matthew 25:31-46 and Revelations 21:1-6a become much more vivid when readers pair them with the portions of Ezekiel that inspired them. Too often, contemporary readers with an axe to grind against certain demographics intentionally misuse Matthew’s metaphor about sacred sheep and goat sorting to malign others. These readings miss the beloved community that is so powerfully described in Ezekiel 34.
Ezekiel makes it clear that poverty, hunger and economic divides are the problem. There is no mention of embodiment or sexuality as a factor used in the divine’s sacred sorting. God gives those who are hurting others a sacred time out and provides food, safety and a shower of blessings to those who lack. In response to bullies, billionaires and bondage, God brings a Covenant of Peace.
Those who have lost hope that justice or peace will come within their lifetime may prefer the reading from Revelations. If it misses us here and now, the promises of a new heaven and earth will find us in the future. God’s promise to remove the sting of death echoes back to the story of the Dry Bones in Ezekiel 37. This chapter reiterates God’s declaration of a Covenant of Peace.
As the New Year dawns, what are you watching for today? What liberation is needed in your life? How can the faith of African Americans inspire you to actively cultivate liberation here and now? How can the courage of José Julio Saria and the pastors at California Hall inspire you to live and love boldly when you encounter unjust laws or policing? If justice and peace do not find you in this world, what do you hope to be freed from in the everlasting life to come?
This week’s texts invite you to shed the fear, shame and harsh words that too often stick to our ribs. Invite God to dwell with you in both the hard and the holy moments of your life. Care for those who are stuck in the muck and mire of poverty. Embrace the new season of sensual joy that is on its way.
The Rev Dr Megan Rohrer has been featured on Netflix’s Queer Eye, Cosmo, People, Time Magazine and Good Morning America. He earned a PhD in Transformative Studies from the California Institute of Integral Studies and a Doctorate of Ministry from the Pacific School of Religion. Megan also received an honorary doctorate from Palo Alto University, was a finalist for the Lambda Literary award in transgender non-fiction and received an honorable mention as an Unsung Hero of Compassion by Wisdom in Action, with His Holiness the Dali Lama. His latest book for Arcadia Publishing’s Images in America Series tells the history of San Francisco’s Transgender District with historic images from the 1880’s through the present.
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