Whenever a person interviews me, because it always takes the form of an interview, about why I identify as a Christian despite, well, everything, I never quite know what to tell them. Whatever eloquence I ascribe to my person vanishes at the sound of all the words in the known universe failing to capture what it means when I say I follow Jesus. Cringe. (Continue)

When I first set foot in the Old Catholic Church to attend an All Saints service, I knew I had found a special place. Today is the third time I make it to their service, which is always on the second Sunday of the month. It just so happens that this second Sunday falls on Easter, and it’s perhaps because of this that the service is more crowded than previous times. (Continue)

She blesses Anja, me, and a handful of other people who carved out time in their Sunday evenings to come to Church. I have never been inside this particular church building before, and chuckle at how new the Old Catholic decor is: in imagery and candle lighting possibilities it’s reminiscent of the average Dutch Roman Catholic church. Its white walls and central heating tell me something different. You may think I chose this church because the woman blessing us is Desmond Tutu’s daughter, the Reverend Canon Mpho Tutu van Furth, and because Anja and I can’t help but fangirl. (Continue)

I never get much reading done unless I’m sleeping elsewhere. Most often, I associate sleeping elsewhere with having time off, and having time off means I’m away from a computer screen. This frees up time for reading. Anja had booked a suite for my birthday at Okura, and six months after I turn 33, Covid measures are finally so mild that we actually get to do it. It’s on the sixteenth floor, overlooking the Amsterdam Centre and West Side. (Continue)

This was written as part of Vine & Fig’s Sunday Scripture reflection project. When Jesus sent out his Twelve, He told them: “Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you, leave there and shake the dust off your feet in testimony against them.” If you’re not welcomed, not listened to, quietly withdraw. Don’t make a scene. Shrug your shoulders and be on your way. Last week, a friend of ours in the Vine & Fig community asked me to proofread a letter. (Continue)

When I first learned that ‘pontifex’, Pope Francis’ Twitter account, is Latin for ‘bridge builder’, I was entirely delighted. “How wonderful”, I thought, “that our institution sees the value in a Pope who builds bridges between the Church and the rest of humanity.” When I look at myself with kind eyes, I dare to see the ways in which I myself help build these bridges. As a queer facilitator, I’m part of the leadership team at Vine & Fig, a community for affirming LGBTQIA+ Catholics. (Continue)

Let’s meditate on us scattered sheep today, shall we? After all, if not scattered, then what are we? It has become a running gag in our household. I will be reading the New York Times, shaking my fist at whomever is responsible for the failed separation of Church and State. Or perhaps I’m mad at those who think their Christian inclination allows them to dictate what happens in other people’s bodies. (Continue)