Excerpt from Today's Reading:
Alleluia, alleluia.
The Lord will come; go out to meet him!
He is the prince of peace.
Alleluia, alleluia.

Look, I’ll be completely real with y’all. I rarely pay close attention to what’s said (or sung) during the Alleluia. In between the getting up from my pew, the readjusting of my clothes, the theatrics of watching the priest (or deacon) carry the Good Book to the pulpit, and the persistent urge to look around to see who’s joining in in song, it’s quite easy to miss the smattering of words that oftentimes read like a wall plaque you find at your local department store’s home section. The Lord’s version of ‘Live, Love, Laugh,’ if you will.

Now, believe me, it’s not because I find it insignificant; much can be drawn from every single word uttered at Mass. We can always look for opportunities to be moved, surprised, or even outraged by what’s said within church walls. So I’ll say that today’s Alleluia response of “The Lord will come; go out to meet Him (read: Them)” absolutely elicits a wonderful emotion out of me. And that hasn’t been the case lately because of my own tumultuous relationship to the Church.

But I have to remind myself that it’s much bigger than the Church. It’s bigger than an institution that seemingly prefers petty guilt trips over joyous identity journeys. Because, for me, the source of my spiritual nourishment has always been a matter of my own personal connection to my creator - my beautiful, gender nonbinary creator who looked towards themselves in order to make you and I in their image and likeness. A millennia-old political organization can’t and won’t ever change that belief - sorry!

And honestly, who wouldn’t want to greet the Lord? Run to the door and welcome them with the open arms we’re regularly denied by society? Thank them for the amazing gift of queerness; for entrusting us with this complicated, yet fulfilling existence that few can experience; for presenting us with individuals either within our biological or chosen families to support us along the way; for sitting ever-so-patiently within our minds as we pray and discern what’s next for us; for reminding us that ‘sin’ is a religious construct that doesn’t actually define us; for allowing us to just be us?

I wouldn’t greet the Lord insomuch as I would gallop toward them and say, “How great thou art, gurl.” Oh, with the Alleluia playing in the background. Duh. 

Xorje O.