I’ve mentioned before that I am, indeed, a good Catholic girl. This time of year is rife with special masses, starting with Advent, through Christmas and now into Ordinary Time. I bring this up because once again I’m wrestling with myself (which can be fun, by the way!). I was at Benediction tonight where I actually serve at the altar. Every time the priest opens the tabernacle to expose the Sacrament I truly expect bolts of lightening to turn me into a crispy critter.
I was talking to the priest after mass as I cleaned up. He was just standing there, talking, looking at me. In my heart I just knew he was going to say something about me being trans. I could just feel it. It was on the tip of his tongue… but no.
He finished with some nonsense, said good night and left. <whew> Why? Why do I care? For the life of me I don’t know. I guess Catholicism just becomes ingrained and becomes more than just a weekly service. I have thought for years about becoming Episcopalian. They are welcoming to the LGBT community.
I won’t lie. If I’m asked point blank, I’ll respond point blank. But I honestly do not feel God is overly concerned with my genitalia. He made me. He knows exactly who I am. Maybe that’s why the priest backed away. Besides, I had a lit thurible in my hands getting ready to dump the charcoal. (Google challenge — what’s a thurible? Imagine getting slapped in the gonads with that baby!)