Being Surprised Out of Our Fears

Today’s liturgical readings for the 12th Sunday of Ordinary Time can be found here.
Several years ago, the first time that I heard a priest mention transgender people in a homily, he stated: “I don’t understand them. Frankly, I wish they would go away.”
I don’t remember his larger point, but I do recall a feeling of resigned disappointment and embarrassment. As a trans person, I already knew that many people didn’t understand me, didn’t want me in shared spaces, didn’t want to have to think about me. I was already quite familiar with the feeling of being wished away by those who simply did not understand.
But it was a renewed and deeper disappointment to be reminded of these things during Mass. It felt like the priest tapping me on the shoulder before Communion and saying, “Honestly, I would prefer it if you left.”
In the years since then, I have observed that discomfort and fear around queer and trans people has increased in secular and religious spaces. I sense not just misunderstanding, confusion, and ignorance, but a sense of real fear. What is this queerness creeping into our spaces? Who are these people? Where are they coming from? What if there’s more of them than there are of us?
The early disciples were no strangers to fear. In today’s Gospel passage, they tremble in a storm and cry out, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” The waters that seem to threaten to overtake them are metaphorical as well as physical: Jesus has called them to radically transform; to change how they relate to the world and one another; and to fundamentally shift how they view themselves in relation to others, to themselves, and to God. Human beings are often afraid of change, most especially when we are called to change ourselves. How frightening the invitation can be to change the way you have been, and to see the world around you be transformed, and to embrace it rather than run from it.
But, as Paul reminds us in today’s second reading, this is what Jesus’ call is all about: “Whoever is in Christ is a new creation. The old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.” Jesus renews humanity, renews creation, and brings an awareness of how to be fully alive–and all of this requires a conversion.
Just when we think we have a handle on what it means to be human, what it means to be created in the image of God, what it means to live well, Jesus shatters our expectations and shows us a new way. Just when we think we know God’s creation, God creates anew.
Trans people have a unique ability to remind us of this fact: that God is always exuberantly, abundantly, lovingly creating and re-creating. Perhaps, when one encounters a trans person for the first time, it can be frightening to see a lived experience seemingly so different from one’s own. It can be overwhelming to have one’s preconceived notions about being human challenged. It can feel like a wave threatening to overtake us, and we may be tempted to cry out, to close our eyes, to say to the one who is unfamiliar: “I wish you would just go away!”
But it need not be this way. Here is another lesson from queer and trans people of faith, who remain faithful and hopeful despite disappointments, hurt, and rejection: we know that our God is not asleep, that our God is not indifferent to our suffering and our fear. Our God is awake and routinely says to the sea of our anguish, “Be still.” Whatever our fears may be—fear for our own safety or fear that we must change—our God is the One who delights in surprising us out of our fears.
Like the disciples, let us be filled with great awe at the power of God to calm the storms of fear, uncertainty, and mistrust. Let us exist in humble awe with Job, who in today’s first reading hears God remind him that it is God who created and commands the sea and all the earth, who authored the mysteries and powers of the universe, whose creation is beautiful in its incomprehensibility.
At a Pride Mass I recently attended in Boston, I once again heard a priest mention trans people in his homily. This time, however, I did not hear fear in his words. Instead, I heard awe. “Trans is a beautiful prefix,” he said. “It means across, it means beyond. Isn’t that beautiful? And doesn’t that remind us of God, who is beyond all things?” This priest was not a disciple scrambling on the waves of fear, terrified of what the existence of trans people could mean. Instead, he seemed to be in awe and recognition of God’s power and confounding creation—a creation which always has and always will include queer and trans people.
—Phoebe Carstens (they/them), New Ways Ministry, June 23, 2024




Beautiful piece! Keep writing!
Simply beautiful.
Such a beautifully literate and cogent homily. Thank you.
Wonderful article for its exegesis and insights on the lived experience of trans persons. Thank you.
Absolutely beautiful! The Good News. Our Good News. Thank you, Phoebe. Wishing you many blessings. Your sibling, Kieran
Beautiful read as the wind blows hard around me today, but this reading calmed me and reminded me that God loves us.
Stunningly beautiful! Thank you!
I am so glad that you spoke to something I was feeling this spring in a particularly dark way.
The way you responded with thoughtfulness and light is a consolation. Thank you! Keep writing.
I very much appreciated your well thought out reflection. It is so true of the experiences of many trans and queer/gay persons as they interact with others in their lives, work and worship. Blessings and best wishes.
What a nice revelation about what Christ really sees in all of us and how often the Church for its desire for artificial order fails to grasp the blessings that are among us. If we don’t understand everything, we are expected to learn about it if we are real followers of Christ.
Peace,
Simply beautiful.