LGBTQ+ – Feminism and Religion

We’ve Seen This Playbook Before by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

ICE has been doing mass round-ups of anyone who looks like “the other.” The people cheered. “This is my country,” they shouted to the deportees. “Go back where you came from.” The people are flush with excitement thinking this is what we voted for, meanwhile ignoring that they came from someplace too. We know this is a publicity stunt. How? Dr. Phil tagged along on one of round-ups. Newly minted secretary Kristi Noem also took her role in the spotlight attending one in NYC and saying dehumanizing words I will not repeat here.

We’ve seen this playbook before. Creating chaos, disorientation and suffering for political points, TV or other publicity ratings. It doesn’t end well – EVER!

The NY Times had a report of how deportees were treated in a dehumanizing manner, being held on a broken plane in the Amazonian heat with no AC, people shackled, children were on board. There are always people available to treat other people as less than human. “I was just doing my job.” “I was only following orders.”

We’ve seen this playbook before. It doesn’t end well – EVER!

Sing Anyway by Dr. Jamie Marich

I often find myself sitting in conservative Catholic spaces. My brother is a Roman Catholic priest in the Dominican order and I remain in support of his vocation. Every time, before a Mass officially starts, I’m overcome with a sense of: “You belong here…and you don’t.”

The part of me that has always felt at home in a Catholic setting is that love of the ritual and ceremony, the smell of the incense, the familiarity of the chants and songs. It was a Catholic priest, the late Fr. Ciaran O’Donnell, who taught me how to play the guitar and got me started with the healing practice of songwriting. When I sink into these associations, I feel connected to my Croatian ancestors and our Catholic faith. And there’s the other part of me—the queer feminist and an advocate for other queer and transgender people to live the fullest, most open expressions of themselves in all spaces of life, especially faith-based spaces. As a survivor of several forms of sexual assault and as a trauma specialist who has guided countless other survivors in their healing process over the years, I can’t sit in a Catholic Church and not feel uneasy about the legacy of abuse and silencing survivors within the church. Between my queer identity and dedication to supporting survivors, I feel that I don’t belong.

And Then Everything Changed: Part One: Mourning by Beth Bartlett

At the end of June, in clear contradiction to the Founders’ intent,[i] the Supreme Court ruled, 6-3, that the President has “absolute immunity from criminal prosecution for . . . all his official acts.”[ii] In other words, the President is above the law, or, as Justice Sotomayor said in her impassioned dissent: “The relationship between the President and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably. In every use of official power, the President is now a king above the law.”

The ruling left many outraged. The people at large do not want a presidency unchecked by law. The ruling becomes even more chilling given the real possibility of Trump – a self-proclaimed admirer of autocrats — returning to the office of the President, and the specter of Project 2025, the blueprint by the Heritage Foundation that lays out the sweeping changes Trump and a faction of conservatives have planned to put in place if Trump is elected.

Acharei Mot: Build Each Other Up.

The parshah (Torah portion) for May 4, 2024 is Acharei Mot, Leviticus 16:1-18:30. It explains how to approach the divine and who should approach the divine in the context of establishing a yearly day of atonement to absolve the people of their sins. This atonement day proscribes various rituals for the high priest to perform that day including immersions in ritual baths, special clothing, many animal sacrifices and sprinklings of blood, an incense offering, and a goat let loose in the wilderness carrying the sins of the community. In addition, the parshah warns against idolatry and forbids the drinking and eating of an animal’s blood, as it contains its soul. The parshah ends with a list of prohibited sexual relations. This is a tricky parshah as it is often cited as proof that homosexuality is forbidden by the deity, and this has caused much pain and struggle for us within the LGBTQ+ community.

“For I know the plans I have for you:” The coming out story of a queer Catholic raised in the Purity Culture Movement part 1 by Emma Cieslik

It was my last interview for the Muncie LGBTQ+ History Project. I was a senior in college, and I was about to complete my tenth interview focused on the intersections of Christian religion and queer identity. I was slated to conduct an oral history interview with Rachel Replogle, a nonbinary lesbian who runs Indiana’s only queer-affirming wedding videography business. I had expected to explore elements of her work in churches and religious spaces—and I had encountered experiences of trauma, both familial and religious, through the project—but Replogle’s story touched a nerve about my own experiences and made my question the project’s impact on the people conducting it.

Since 2018, the Muncie LGBTQ+ History Project has been collecting the stories of queer people who grew up in and around Muncie. I worked with the project for over a year as a research associate, conducting ten long-form oral history interviews with members of the Muncie LGBTQ+ community about their experiences growing up in Muncie, a small town in East-Central Indiana in the heart of the Rust Belt. Spearheaded by Dr. Emily Johnson [1] the project seeks to uplift and celebrate queer experience in the Midwest. I entered the project with an interest in how queer individuals engage with religious identity, especially in spaces that deny their personhood and/or invalidate their relationships.