From Acorn to Oak
When I first learned about people whose gender fell outside the binary norms of man or woman, I embarked on a scavenger hunt. For a long time, my only exposure to non-binary, agender, genderfluid, and other genderqueer folk was in mocking news segments and memes on social media. I began to wonder if non-binary, genderqueer, and genderfluid folks existed, and I listened eagerly anytime people were asked to share their pronouns. I thought I was searching for these people to humanize a concept I had heard such strong opinions on, but when I finally met L (name changed for anonymity), I realized I had been looking for myself.
Today’s first reading begins: “The spirit of [our God] is upon me, because [our God] has anointed me.” As Isaiah describes the actions this spirit demands, he discusses concepts that resonate with any lover of social justice: bring good news to the oppressed, heal the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to the captives, comfort those who mourn, and spread joy and gratitude. When L answered my well-intentioned—though often misguided and presumptuous—questions, this spirit effortlessly worked through them. It would have been easy to respond to my questions of “Why do you use they/them pronouns?” and “How did you know you were non-binary?” with anger and frustration. However, L chose to assume good intentions and have a deep conversation despite the emotional labor it required of them.
For a long time, I believed my mental prison of pretending to be a cisgender woman would eventually become less cumbersome. These interactions that I’d been longing for showed me that genderqueer people do in fact exist and helped resolve the decade-long gender crisis that I’d tried so hard to ignore.
As faithful LGBTQIA+ and progressive Catholics, how frequently have we been blessed to see the spirit of God work in another?
I came out as non-binary during my senior year of high school, which directly impacted my college search, as I sought to stay out of the closet. Every campus flaunted its commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion, but I saw it in action where I least expected it. When I toured Emmanuel College, I had the opportunity to attend an evening event hosted by one of the feminist organizations on campus. During the introductions, I heard those words I had longed for years ago:
My name is Colleen, and my pronouns are they/them/theirs.
It seemed effortless. It was also met with nods in the same way one would acknowledge someone sharing their age, hometown, or major. I once again felt that joy of connection, but this time, it was deeper, because they were a fellow Catholic. Colleen provided a testament to the light much in the same way John did, not by trying to be something or someone more divine or magnificent than they were, but by simply showing up to do God’s work. Colleen showed up not expecting to help a fellow queer Catholic finally embrace their identity and faith, but simply to continue their gradual contributions to a more just society.
When Colleen opted to show up that day, they followed the call to be “an oak of righteousness.” Oak is one of Earth’s oldest species, dating back approximately 65 million years. A single tree can survive for over 1,000 years and produce over 10 million acorns in its lifetime. These trees, which hold sacred places in many religions and mythologies, grow steadily; with a significant root system grounding them in place, they branch out to new possibilities and foliage that changes with the season, which allows the tree the flexibility to adapt and survive each season. They do not transform from an acorn to a towering tree overnight but through steady, balanced growth based on their needs and opportunities. When my path crossed with Colleen’s, this steady journey of growth continued, and I found inspiration in this mighty oak I’d witnessed. How do we show up for others as a consistent presence for justice?
Earlier this year, I traveled with DignityUSA to Portugal for World Youth Day 2023, where my oak was grafted onto something much larger than I could have imagined. In the span of one week, I was blessed with more opportunities to act in the spirit of God. Some of our readers may have read our stories spanning every range of emotion in that week, from those we prayed for to those we rejoiced with, but as I read this week’s letter from Paul to the Thessalonians, a few interactions at World Youth Day stood out to me. Many attendees told us, “You don't belong here,” because of our LGBTQIA+ identities. When I responded with curiosity, I was told, “This is a time to celebrate and pray, not to protest.” Yet 1 Thessalonians tells us “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise the words of prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil.” The very passage that calls us to rejoice, pray, and give thanks also calls us to test what our religious leaders teach us so that we may strive towards a more perfect faith.
The Catholic Church has certainly made strides over the last year in further inclusion of LGBTQIA+ People that we celebrate this Advent season. As we continue to advocate for greater inclusion still, we do so not because we spurn our faith or its leaders, but because we follow in their footsteps. Isaiah, John, Paul, and many others strived for justice, especially when the status quo led to injustice. John tells us that he “is the voice of the one crying out in the wilderness ‘make straight the way of [our God],’” but we know that he does not mean everyone along this path must be straight, too.
How will you answer this call to fight for justice?
Cait Gardiner (they/them) is a queer, non-binary person who is passionate about uplifting the voices of marginalized communities and making civics education accessible. They want to be a light to others navigating the difficult experience of reconciling their sexual orientation with their faith.
