One noxious defense of homophobia is the idea that queer couples are sinful because they’re unnatural and unnatural because they cannot biologically conceive.
My mother, a witty reductionist and a first-generation Chinese American, says that Chinese folks plant vegetables while white folks plant flowers.
So, in the face of all opposition, why did I decide to get married?
Our wedding was a sacrament. In the Christian tradition, all weddings are sacraments. And queer weddings are sacraments too and are sacraments especially.
Our home is stamped with Ada’s art: photographs of the canyon from our first trip together; a mounted sage leaf from my grandmother’s garden and a jay feather from our first neighborhood; our wedding vows framed in our bouquets’ peony petals - this piece is my favorite.
Zora told me not to write this week.
If you’re from a conservative Christian background and trying to navigate the ethics of sex, this one’s for you, whether or not you are blessed to be LGBTQ.
Onstage, I enlisted the help of the audience - my classmates - maybe 400 of them. I wanted them to back me up - to sing with me. The parts weren’t hard. And this is the story of how I proposed to Zora.
I eventually took flight from my non-affirming church after taking hits critical enough to damage rather than boost my relationship with God and God’s kin-dom. Here's the journey I’ve been on since then - this time with Ada as my co-pilot.
When Ada and I first started dating, I was attending the church that had been my home through college. The Living Room was a Southern Baptist-lite church bustling with twenty-somethings, all gathered around a charismatic worship band and our bearded, blue-jeaned preacher Mel.