My religion tells me that human beings are expansive. It tells me that we are made of love.
My religion tells me that people who expand the meaning of what it is to be human are saints. It tells me that transgender humans are beautiful and holy and blessed.
My religion tells me that any god that requires me to evangelize on its behalf is a false god, invented by men to control others, men who seek to shrink humanity, to limit it to its smallest, ugliest form. That any god I claim to understand and speak for is too small a god for me.
My religion tells me that supremacy in any form is among the basest of evils. It is clear on this point. When our actions or beliefs or words are used to gain or maintain control over others, to suppress the wellbeing or squash the potential of other human beings so that we may remain in control, or maintain our own prosperity or safety or position, we are participating in evil.
My religion tells me that remembering and honoring the past is a spiritual pursuit. Telling the truth and repairing past harms is spiritual practice.
My religion tells me that an open heart and an open mind are all that are required to embrace god. That our ability, if we’re only willing, to look at the world we live in with love and wonder is one of god’s greatest gifts. It tells me that when we refuse, when we choose to keep our world and our minds small and stilted, that we are doomed to live in fear and pain and anger. And when we teach our children to live that way, we are ensuring the same for them.
My religion tells me that god is not here to grant us wishes or make deals with us, doesn’t take sides, is not interested in our bank accounts, does not intervene in our pain or fix our problems. The god of my religion is here to show us that we will be okay, even when we’re not, to show us how to care for our fellows, and to help us be our true and fullest selves. Because that’s what we’re here to do, to be fully and joyfully us, and to do what we can to help each other fill the world with love.
