September 2024 – Southwest Conference Blog

by Christopher Schouten

At this month’s national gathering of the United Church of Christ’s Open and Affirming Coalition, I heard a phrase for the first time that struck me deeply: “Whole Lives Matter.” While it echoes the call for dignity that “Black Lives Matter” represents, it points to something both universal and deeply personal—the recognition that we are all complex, multifaceted beings created in the image of God. It calls for the acceptance of every aspect of who we are. To truly see each other, we must see the entirety of each person’s identity—embracing all the layers of race, gender, ability, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, and other aspects that make us human. This is intersectionality in its truest form.

The Complexity of Intersectionality

Intersectionality, a term coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989, was originally used to describe the overlapping oppression faced by Black women in systems of racial and gender inequality. It has since expanded to include the myriad ways in which different aspects of identity intersect and affect one’s experience in the world. In the LGBTQIA+ community, intersectionality is crucial because queer identity doesn’t exist in isolation from race, class, ability, or gender identity. We are all many things, and each part of us shapes how we experience the world.

To simply label someone as “gay” or “trans” without acknowledging their other identities—whether they are Black, disabled, working-class, or a woman—reduces them to a single facet of their existence. Instead, we are called to look at the whole person. When we do that, we create space for empathy, respect, and an acknowledgment that everyone’s lived experience is unique and valuable.

A Biblical Call to Wholeness

The message of “Whole Lives Matter” resonates deeply within the Christian tradition. From the beginning of the Bible, we see God creating human beings as whole and complex. Psalm 139 celebrates this, proclaiming, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13-14). These verses remind us that every part of our identity is sacred, lovingly woven together by the hands of God.

Jesus’ ministry also demonstrated this profound respect for the whole person. He didn’t engage with people based on just one aspect of their identity. Whether it was the woman at the well, the tax collector, or the woman caught in adultery, Jesus saw and loved them for their full humanity. He didn’t overlook their struggles or dismiss their complex circumstances but acknowledged their worth in every encounter.

In this way, Christ calls us to reject partial, simplified understandings of one another. We are tasked with seeing our siblings in faith and the broader human community as whole, integrated beings—not merely “gay,” “straight,” “disabled,” or “Black,” but as a synthesis of all those things. And when we recognize the entirety of a person, we can offer them the kind of love and respect that God offers us.

Identity and Assumptions

In today’s fast-paced, judgment-laden world, it’s easy to fall into the trap of labeling people without truly seeing them. We hear someone’s race, their gender identity, or their sexual orientation and, almost automatically, make assumptions about their beliefs, experiences, or behaviors. This tendency not only flattens the rich diversity of the human experience but also shuts down opportunities for genuine connection.

Studies on identity formation indicate that people often struggle with their intersecting identities, especially in environments that force them to prioritize one identity over another. A 2019 study published in The Journal of Social Issues found that LGBTQIA+ individuals from marginalized racial or socioeconomic backgrounds often feel torn between different aspects of their identity, as they try to navigate spaces that don’t fully accept them as a whole person. This highlights the need for communities that embrace the whole person rather than asking them to fragment their identity for social convenience.

When we walk through life assuming we know someone’s story based on a single characteristic, we miss out on the fullness of who they are. We also reinforce societal structures that divide and diminish people, reducing them to just one aspect of their existence. Instead, the call of “Whole Lives Matter” encourages us to move beyond assumptions, to see every person as a reflection of God’s diverse and magnificent creation.

Wrestling with Identity & Faith

It’s important to recognize that many people, especially within marginalized communities, are still wrestling with the complexity of their identities. For some, reconciling the intersections of race, gender, ability, and sexuality is a life-long journey. As a community of faith, we must make space for this wrestling. We need to hold space for people who are figuring out who they are and who God is calling them to be.

In our churches and wider society, we should foster environments where people feel free to explore the complexity of their identities without fear of rejection or ridicule. The intersection of different identities can sometimes feel like a source of tension, but it can also be a source of strength. As LGBTQIA+ people of faith, many of us know what it’s like to navigate the intersection of queerness and religion. It can be challenging, but it can also lead to a deeper, richer understanding of both our faith and our identity.

Moving Forward with Compassion

If we are to take “Whole Lives Matter” seriously, we must begin by listening. We need to listen to the stories of those who have been marginalized by society—whether because of their race, their gender, their socioeconomic status, or any other aspect of their identity. And we need to listen without judgment, without rushing to impose our own understanding of who they are.

In doing so, we build bridges of compassion and empathy. We create communities where people are not only tolerated but celebrated in their wholeness. And we make space for people to continue wrestling with their identities without feeling that they have to fit neatly into preconceived boxes.

In a world that too often divides us, the call of “Whole Lives Matter” is a call to unity—unity through diversity, and wholeness through love. It is a reminder that every person we encounter is a beautiful, complex creation of God, worthy of respect and kindness. And it is an invitation to see, and love, the whole person.

by Rev. Dr. Tom Martinez

In today’s culture war we’re all victims of the age-old idea that manliness is primarily evidenced by controlling and repressing emotions. This was made clear by the reaction to Gus Walz’ open display of emotion during the Democratic National Convention. Images of Gus crying quickly became a lightning rod for the cruelest ridicule. But what are we making fun of? A son’s love of his dad. Is that really deserving of the wave of cruelty it elicited? Or could it be an indication that at the dawn of the 21^st century there is deep confusion as to what it means to be a man?

It’s easy to bully any sign of weakness. That’s why bullying is so rampant. But it’s far more challenging to grasp why such a beautiful moment quickly became weaponized. Yes, it has a lot to do with the radical divide in the country. We’re like sharks in our ability to detect any hint of vulnerability which we then pounce on like so many Great Whites. Biden shows his age or Trump fumbles a question and everyone’s ready to pounce. It’s as if we’re all back in middle school, consumed by fear and the aggression that shields us from our humanity.

The truth is we’re all aging, we all fumble questions or fail to put our best foot forward. We’re imperfect, vulnerable creatures trying to find our way in the world. But attacking each other isn’t the answer. Instead, we need to step back and assess the ways in which our culture has socialized men to hide their feelings. Women would have an easier time of it if more men were to begin to explore their masculinity with a wider range of ideals than the lone ranger mentality offered up by the likes of John Wayne, Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson.

John Wayne is often demonized for having made such a major contribution to the patriarchal ideal. And while the problem is of course bigger than Wayne, I find it fascinating that when he appeared before a group of Veterans their reaction was to boo him. These were men who had experienced the harsh reality of combat, many of them propelled by the swaggering image of a fearless gunmen out to get the bad guys. They had discovered that war is not glamorous or thrilling, but horrific and wounding.

Therapists like Ed Tick, who work with traumatized Vets, know that the path toward healing involves a dismantling of the macho image of invulnerability. Ed has taken countless groups of Veterans back to Viet Nam, where they have the opportunity to process the trauma of war, and to thereby enlarge their frame of reference by which they understand what happened to them, what they did, what was done to them. He frames this work in the symbolism of the hero’s journey, which begins with the patriarchal foundation of enculturation, then descends into the hell of trauma. This descent is an aspect of heroism that takes us beneath the middle-school mentality of invulnerability and cruelty. It requires a Christ-like willingness to enter the wilderness of the soul, to wrestle with our worst and better angels.

The great developmental psychologist Erik Erikson came to this country to escape Hitler. A brilliant theorist by nature, he plumbed the depths of fascism, asking what in the world made it possible for so many everyday Germans to throw their support behind a sadistic demagogue. How fascinating that his quest to understand what happened in Germany centered on the generational tensions between fathers and sons. He went on to articulate his insights in a book on Martin Luther, who famously struggled with his relationship with his father. Erikson understood that love for the swaggering dictator is rooted in repressed feelings toward authority.

It’s no coincidence that Luther himself ushered in a great revolutionary overthrow of Catholicism, the reigning system of power in his day. One of Erikson’s great insights involves the explosive though latent energy permeating society in times of social upheaval. We certainly are living through such a time. Everything from truth itself, to the mystery of gender to whether or not the planet is warming is all up for grabs.

In the midst of this great upheaval, people long to be free, to have some modicum of power and agency. The temptation is to simply identify a father figure to either worship or oppose. But collective lashing out against the right or left is merely that, a blind lashing out at daddy. The more radical response is to feel one’s way into one’s own power, to figure out why we’re here, what it is that we are meant to do, which is often something far beyond the limited ideologies offered to up by whatever cultural system we’re born into.

This isn’t to say that all enculturation is flawed. We need role models and mentors. We need spaces where we are tested and pushed and allowed to fail and succeed. This is no doubt why sports loom so large in the world. But the star athlete who beats his wife is far too common, as is the epidemic of domestic abuse in general.

Legions of men are trapped in an outdated ideal of toughness and control. Meanwhile advances in the social sciences are opening up the complexity of gender, social roles, questions of equality and the challenges associated with our ever-more complex and technologically daunting world. Again, the temptation is to go back to the Lone Ranger and leave it at that.

But songs like “Billy Don’t Be a Hero” and films like Coming Home, Johnny Got His Gun, The Deerhunter and Born on the Fourth of July all call into question the old ideal of invincibility.

From what I’ve read it appears Gus Walz is somewhere on the neuro-diversity spectrum, meaning he doesn’t process information like more mainstreamed young adults. That alone should be reason for a certain sober restraint when it comes to judging his show of emotion. But rather than merely holding back out of compassion, we can marvel at what this extraordinary young man has to teach us. His response was real and honest and spontaneous, pure embodied love by a son for his dad. Seems to me the world could use a little more young men like Gus.

Rev. Dr. Tom Martinez is the Senior Minister of Desert Palm United Church of Christ in Tempe, AZ.

Month: September 2024

Gus Walz is My Hero