Beckett Leclaire Writes

       As Pride 2022 comes to a close, I want to share some thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head. When I've been tasked, as seminarians and fledgling ministers often are, with preaching on Trinity Sunday, I have usually pointed to the Church as beloved community being a reflection of the nature of God: made up of parts and yet in union. Like any trinitarian analogy, it is imperfect to the point of skirting heresy, and every time I make it, I can hear my father's insistent reminder, "Church is not God." So, just as I would caution one against taking the Church as Icon of God thought too seriously, I would advise caution as I blaze ahead.     Pride feels to me, and I imagine to many others, not unlike Church. At its best, it's a celebration of liberation and wholeness in the face of worldly forces which seek to imprison and destroy. However, what stands out to me the most is that it is a declaration of community. Being LGBTQ+, especially i...

This sermon was delivered originally on May 22, 2022. It has been edited for a more general audience. It references the following scriptures: Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5; John 5:1-9     You ever see a toddler running along in the grass and just wipe out? Like, full-body, faceplant… all that forward momentum they’d built up just fully transferred to crashing into the ground. How do they react? I mean, it depends a bit on the temperament of the kid, but usually there’s some mix of perplexity, not knowing what the heck just happened, because as far as they can tell, they were just running along and suddenly they’ve got grass sticking up their nose, probably some embarrassment… they were so proud of themselves for all this independent movement and now suddenly they’re not doing so well… probably a little bit of sadness and pain… falling on your face doesn’t feel good… but usually one of their first moves is to look around and find their grown up. Instinctively, we know when we...

 Let's start with some real talk: Right now, it's rough out there for trans folks, because we've been made into political scapegoats... or rather, we've been made anew into political scapegoats. The reality of that means that it is impossible to talk or write about trans folks without "being political." That can make a lot of Christians, especially of the comfortably Mainline sort, profoundly uncomfortable. However, discomfort is the means through which we are reformed... transformed , even, by our faith.  Enter Austen Hartke's book, Transforming: The Bible & the Lives of Transgender Christians . I've been looking for a while for a book that explores transgender issues through a solidly Biblical lens that actually honors the dignity of trans folks. There are many books out there by "husband, pastor, father" types about trans folks, which suppose to wrestle with transgender folks' existence compassionately without actually telling a ...

  "Keep looking down, okay?" I reminded my companion as we scrambled over piles of rocks, worn smooth (and slippery) by the combined efforts of wind, ice, and water. "Yeah, yeah..." came the response, a North Mississippi hill country drawl.  I'd brought my then-partner from college some 2000 miles back to my home-state of Michigan on a two-week camping trip around the state, determined to show him the widest variety of the natural wonders I'd grown up surrounded by.  I'd intentionally driven us up the middle of the state en route to our first campsite at Leelanau State Park.  Our rustic campsite was nestled in the woods under a canopy of white pines with no view of Lake Michigan, so as sunset approached, I suggested we go for a little walk, "to say hello." Now as we picked our way along the stony shore, I could see the very tip of the Leelanau Peninsula, surrounded in nearly all directions by the churning confluence of Thunder Bay and Lake Mich...