That heretic!


I feel like I’m some kind of heretic now. Moving outside of the confines of evangelical faith and practice after so many years brings that with it. But instead of feeling like a little kid, lost in the asphalt jungle of a big and menacing polluted city, I rather feel free, standing at the edge of maybe an inviting yet dense forest, or even better, a mountain range to climb. The ascent might be steep and tiring at times, and hopefully no accidents will occur, but it will be an exciting journey. Arriving one day at the top (if there is such a thing in this case) will be worth it, as is the view all along the way.

The word heretic sounds a bit drastic or scary, but if you look at it, it actually isn’t that bad. It just got bad press. If it’s an insult, it’s one I gladly take right now.

A heretic? A heretic, or rather, a heresy is any belief that differs (or strongly differs) with established beliefs and customs, with the so-called “norm” of established religious organizations such as churches. In this way it is different from apostasy (explicit renunciation) or blasphemy (voluntarily insulting God, beliefs or sacred object through words or actions).

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Standing at the Crossroads


I’m standing at the crossroads.

Now that it’s definitive that I have lost my job as a pastor after my Coming Out because I am indeed gay -oh gasp, a lesbian! Run!-, I am standing at the crossroads. Crossroads of career change, crossroads of faith as well.

It is time for me to reassess, and think about what I actually believe in. Losing my job, and much more so, the whole process around it, was stressful and painful, but now, turning something painful into something good, I am free to pick apart my faith and let God, or the Divine, reassemble it together.

In church I was obligated, of course, to use the whole evangelical lingo -even if a lot of it didn’t sit so well with me, going from vocabulary questions, to the words of hymns and songs to theological questions. But now I can leave all that behind me and freely explore uncharted terrain at my leasure.

Several friends already asked, ‘Oh no, are you rejecting Jesus? Are you leaving Christ behind? Will there still be room for Jesus in your thoughts?’ Whilst I appreciate their being worried for me, I must object. For me it’s not a question of rejecting Jesus. It is something far deeper than that.

I need to seek God, experience God, listen to the Divine, move beyond the confines of evangelical God-language and imagery and dogma. It has not done much good for me.

I feel a need to move back to those things that have already nourished my soul, and let them nourish me again: Jewish tradition, which is a part of my heritage, and feminist theology and spirituality. That doesn’t mean that I’ll all over sudden won’t appreciate the parts of anabaptist theology anymore that I appreciated before. But sometimes, in order to reconstruct, first one needs to deconstruct – and this deconstruction was triggered by getting fired.

I don’t see this new adventure of deconstruction-reconstruction as something negative. It is disturbing and not always always easy, but also carries the promise of growth.

A Pastor’s Farewell


I answered your call
you asked me to sacrifice
what was most sacred to me
and I foolishly complied

Now I have to go
I don’t fit anymore
And I wonder if I ever truly fitted in
From the words I heard, now and past

Unloving
mean-spirited
disrespectful
ugly

When my main crime
is being gay
in a place where difference has little room
like the tattoos on my skin

And yet another problem is
what I don’t have between my legs
When what is in the heart counts less
then what is on the skin

A painful process of opening up again and again
not knowing if judgment or embrace awaits
carrying my heart on my hands for all to see
exposed to wind and rain

Now I turn the page
moving forward
looking towards what lies ahead
with love, hope and trust

Staying true to myself
true to my love
returning to my roots
embracing God and self

Grateful for all those who showed me love
for all the friendships that stay
All the others-
I wish you nothing but love,
and blessings of peace on your path.

Et un crâne, en plus!


Ce mois d’août j’ai eu un tatouage avec des roses et un crâne.

Certains l’ont bien aimé, et d’autres ont des réactions inverses ou des interrogations : qu’est-ce que ce que cela signifie, un tatouage avec un crâne?

Des roses, ça ne gêne personne, tout le monde pense qu’elles sont belles – mais un crâne ? Mais ne vous inquiétez pas, je ne suis pas devenu une adoratrice de la mort, des choses morbides ou quelque chose comme ça. Ce n’est rien de satanique non plus.

Comme disait quelqu’un, « Indépendamment de la signification d’un tatouage de crâne (ou de tête de mort) pour le porteur, il est probable que d’autres l’interpréteront de manière erronée. Lorsque vous choisissez un tatouage du crâne, soyez prêt à expliquer ce que cela signifie pour vous, encore et encore, à des observateurs curieux ou inquiets. »

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1,2,3 tatouages – pourquoi?


Pourquoi les tatouages ? Ou plutôt, pourquoi mes tatouages?

J’ai 20 tatouages, et le rendez-vous pour le 21ème est fait. Certains aiment mes tatouages, même beaucoup, et d’autres les critiquent pour diverses raisons – esthétiques, religieuses, …

Que dit alors la Bible ? Le seul verset de la Bible qui semble condamner clairement (vraiment ?) les tatouages, se trouve en Vayikra (Lévitique) 19,28. Ce verset lit, en le traduisant de l’hébreu, « Tu ne te feras pas d’incisions dans ta chair pour les morts ; ou inciseras des marques sur toi-même : je suis le Seigneur. »

Le mot en question קַֽעֲקַ֔ע est souvent traduit par tatouage, peinture ou inscription. En fait, son sens est incertain et il apparait seulement ici et nulle part ailleurs dans la Bible. La question est alors, qu’est-ce que ce verset peut dire à propos du tatouage, tel qu’il est pratiqué aujourd’hui ?

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#Kristallnacht


Kristallnacht
night of shattered glass
night of shattered dreams
night of shattered lives

untold brutality
never to be forgotten

Shattered glass
and pillars of unholy fires rising to the sky
feel the pieces of glass cutting,
burning through your skin
as you run in panic from the smoke, fire, lights, lamps
and persecutor screaming,
arresting you for your own safety
-so they say-
Run!

Burnt books,
lives,
hopes
announcing wholescale murder
smell the stench,
see the small pieces of burnt books and ashes,
floating in the sky,
covering roofs, ground and skin
inhaled and exhaled

Never forget,
always remember,
always educate

Reach out the hands
to the victims of todays antisemitism
and discrimination
Build new circles of hope and peace
Let new generations rise

Let the people of Israel live!
Am Yisrael Chai!

And shed a tear
for those who are gone…

#WontBeErased


#WontBeErased

DqQmBntXQAAQTyv.jpg smallI’m a ciswoman. I was born a woman, I got breasts, a vagina, a functioning uterus and two functioning ovaries. I got two awesome kids (it’s normal that they’re awesome, they’re mine!), conceived and born naturally without any problems. I identify as a woman, 100%, and wouldn’t want to be anything else, ever.

Recently, I got to do a DNA test for some issue. They had to re-do it because apparently, my DNA didn’t match my gender – that came as a big surprise!

Now I don’t particularly care about that DNA-gender-matching-thing because it doesn’t influence my daily life or identity – I still am who I am, a ciswoman as stated above, and far more.

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