Flaws

In the south transept of Durham Cathedral there is a column with a typical Norman zig-zag motif on it. About a third of the way up the column, however, the pattern goes wrong. The carving zigs where it should zag, and the deep, purposeful, groove meets the one below it. It’s often called the “apprentice column”, because, it is said, the master mason in charge of that area of the cathedral went away for a while, and, while he was away, his apprentice made a mistake. Like many old stories, that’s fun, but not true. The reality is that in many cathedrals there are deliberate flaws, built into the stone. This column is Durham’s flaw.

Medieval masons believed that only God could be perfect, or create perfection, and though cathedrals were built to glorify God, they were built by people, so they must contain flaws. They built their humanity into the building, in the form of human mistakes, to remind them of the power of God.

Church institutions, like church buildings, even magnificent cathedrals, are made by mere people, not by God, and though built with the best of intentions, they contain a myriad of flaws. The biggest flaw of all, is the desire to exclude. To drive people away, either explicitly, or implicitly, because of the assumption that certain people are not good enough for God. To condemn others for being somehow imperfect, when everyone is as flawed as that great column in the transept of Durham Cathedral, and as loved regardless. If you didn’t know the flaw in the carving was there, if you did not look for it, in the great forest of stone, if it was not pointed out, or sought, you would not notice it; and, even when noticed, the flaw does nothing to diminish the splendour of the Cathedral. To God, we are all Cathedrals. We glorify God by our mere existence, and our flaws, be they few, or many, do not prevent God from loving us, just as we are.

It is not our duty to decide who is, and is not, worthy of God’s love. Who are we to condemn others for what we perceive to be their flaws, when we are deeply flawed ourselves? Flaws are the marker of man. As it is said: ‘to err is human; to forgive, divine’ (Alexander Pope - ‘An Essay on Criticism’), and God forgives us all of our flaws. We were blessed with free will, with the ability to falter and fail, to stumble, and fall, but we will never fall from the sight of God, nor from God’s love. We are all welcome, beneath the shelter of God’s arms.

When Julian of Norwich spoke of a God who loves us all, unconditionally (Julian of Norwich - “Revelations of Divine Love”), she was ridiculed. Such a concept was so foreign to the teachings of the medieval church that to some it bordered on heresy. But the church changed. The world changed. Perhaps, even God changed, as He did upon hearing Moses beg him to reconsider (Exod. 32:14). Or perhaps God was always this way, and we simply failed to see it through the specks in our eyes (Matt. 7:3). We will never know for certain. What we can know, however, are the truths of our own experiences, and mine, like Julian’s, are filled with love.

God loves us all, and created us all, exactly as we are. As a transgender person, I am often asked why I ‘defy God’s will, in this way’, or why I ‘choose to live as the opposite gender to the one God created me’ - These are not questions I can answer, because they make the wrong assumptions. You see, as with all people, I am ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’ (Psa. 139:14), it just so happens that God made me transgender. It was ordained that I would walk this path, and experience this facet of the infinite variety of human experience that God created. In living honestly, and embracing all that I am, without fear, or denial, I am fulfilling God’s plan. Just as you, in living your truths, fulfill God’s plan. My substance was not hidden from God, God knew me before I was born, and before I knew myself (Psa. 139:16). God loved me before I realised I was transgender, God loved me through my struggles, and my hardships, and God loves me now, in my peace. I am a man, not because I choose to be one, but because God made me one, I am just a man who took a different path, experienced a different journey, and grew into the person I am today. The blessing of free will allows us the freedom to choose, not what we are, but what we do. Being LGBT is not an action, or a choice, but a state of being, a state that God has chosen for us, so that we may each serve in our own way.

It pains me, to hear people put limits on God’s work in order to exclude others, to hear them claim that God could not have made LGBT people, just as they are, and that the rich and varied lives God gave to us are not innate things, but choices, urges, and sins. As if God, who made all of existence, from the smallest sapling, to the vast clouds of dust circling the furthest star, could have such a limited imagination when it comes to His most precious creation, humanity.

Some ask how I can know this, how I can know that God wants me, just as I am, when so many claim otherwise. All I can say, is that people are not God. People cannot know God, all we can do, is guess. In addition to that, no matter what we believe God’s will to be, Jesus told us to love; to love everyone, regardless of who they are, or what they do. Jesus spoke of generosity, kindness, forgiveness, and acceptance. He did not condemn sinners, but stayed in their homes (Luke . 19:5-7), and ate at their tables (Mark. 2:15). He did not turn people from God for their flaws, he welcomed them in. Similarly, a place in a church is not a reward, or a privilege to be withheld or revoked, but a gift, given freely, to all who open their hearts to God. Even if you do not believe that being LGBT is something God made me, you cannot disagree with the doctrine of love, spoken so clearly, so many times, by Jesus Christ Himself.

I know that I am a man, in the same way I know, without any doubt, that God loves me. That God made me, exactly as I am. That living this life, as this person, is what God meant for me to do. That transgender people are merely part of the infinite variety of human experience that God created, millennia ago. These things are truths. Not in ways that are measurable, but in ways that are all-consuming. At the beginning of my journey I often doubted I was transgender, and ran from the truth, in the same way that we all doubt our faith, from time to time - not because there is any real truth in our doubting, but out of fear. I was scared of what being transgender would mean for my life. The world is hard for LGBT people, not because being LGBT is something that inherently makes our lives harder, but because people make our lives harder, out of their hatred, their fear, or their need to condemn. I was scared of the persecution, and the hatred that is so prevalent in this world, cruelties so many religious institutions are complicit in, but fear is nothing compared to a fundamental truth. Some things cannot, and should not, be contained by the walls we build within ourselves. I live truthfully as an LGBT person, and embrace who I am, not because it is easy, but because it is necessary. In many ways, my journey in faith was similar, because faith, too, is something that is not easy. There is much we give up, in the service of God, and much that changes because of it, but that does not mean such things are not necessary, or worth the pain.

Again, you may ask who am I to say these things? Who am I to state that God loves LGBT people, and made us exactly how we are - and the answer is, I am nobody. But how could God have not made us this way? If God does not make mistakes, then LGBT people are not mistakes. If God is loving, then LGBT people are loved. If the church is welcoming, then LGBT people should be invited in. If we are to live faithfully, and in accordance with Jesus’ teachings, then we should not exclude.

Jesus said that by their fruit we shall know them (Matt. 7:16), and what fruit does exclusion bear? Certainly not love - no matter what some say. A mantra so often used to excuse the rejection and exclusion of LGBT people is that people simply “love the sinner, and hate the sin” but you cannot separate sin and sinner when what you perceive to be a sin is a fundamental part of the way God made a person. By hating LGBT identities, you hate people, you judge people, and these things are fundamentally opposed to Jesus’ teaching. Through exclusion, and the need to repress or hate fundamental aspects of themselves, LGBT people are driven to depression, despair, self-hatred, and even suicide - these are not the fruits which God would wish for you to place in the hearts of others. These are not the fruits we should grow in God’s name.

We may be human, imperfect and flawed, but we can choose what we do with our lives, and the impacts we have on other people as we live them, and how is it Christlike to leave a legacy of anything other than love? Not love that comes with strings attached. Not love that turns away sinners, or those we disagree with, or disapprove of. Not love that demands the recipient change who they are, or deny what God made them, but the kind of love Jesus modelled for us, even upon the cross, as he forgave those who killed him (Luke. 23:34). Our love may not wash away the sins of the world, but it won’t exclude others, or drive them to self-hatred and despair, either - and that’s a start.