This was the sermon prepared for Sunday, February 16, 2025.
I have always considered myself a spiritual person. I may not have always attended church, but prayer has always been a part of my everyday life. During the most hectic time in my life, which coincided with being a single mom, living in New York City and juggling three part time jobs while attending school, getting home, making dinner, doing homework, bathtime, storytime, and prayers before sleep were our rituals. Before becoming a mother I would go on spiritual retreats, spend an entire week in silent prayer by the ocean, in contemplation, or chanting for hours and hours, allowing my spirit to soar and feel connected to the big mystery of the universe, holding prayer beads, or lighting candles. Or praying the rosary every day for the entire month of May to honor Mother Mary, building beautiful and fragrant altars filled with roses . After becoming a mother, my prayers were said while riding the subway, holding my son’s little hand, carrying a backpack with books, groceries, toys, extra clothes, always praying that we wouldn’t be late for daycare, at the supermarket counting every penny and having to put things back, or when opening a pile of bills with big red letters “OVERDUE” sending me into a panic, I prayed: “Help!” “Please” “I can’t” “show me the way” “have mercy on us”
Most books on parenting are filled with advice on how to raise children and most religious, theological texts, leave out children and parenting as a source of the holy. Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg author of Nurture the WOW: Finding Spirituality in the Frustration, Boredom, Tears, Poop, Desperation, Wonder and Radical Amazement of Parenting writes: “Let’s face it for thousands of years books on Jewish law were written by men mostly talking to other men. These guys were not involved in the intimate care of small children. Somewhere else far from the house of study, other people, women, mothers, were wrangling tantrumy toddlers and explaining to six year olds that they really had to eat what was on their plates. This means that a lot of the dazzling ideas found in our sacred texts about becoming a person about how to fully experience awe and wonder, how to navigate hard painful feelings, how service to others fits into the larger transcendent picture was never really explicitly connected to the work of parenting. It just didn’t occur to these guys building entire theological worldviews around love and relationships to extend their idea to the children probably because the work of raising children wasn’t on their radar.” and she asks: “What if parenting were considered a spiritual practice in its own right? What if engaging in the intimate care of our children was understood as a legitimate path to understanding the universe, the transcendent, and our place in it?” Parents and parenting look like a lot of things these days. With all sorts of family configurations, gender identities and biological and nonbiological connections…a person is a parent if they parent. Love is what makes this kid your kid. We’re all in this together. One big chaotic village of people trying to figure out where that other tiny shoe went, kissing a knee that just got scraped, taking a deep breath when the screaming starts and hoping to remember to pick up milk on the way home. The acts of care are our work, our offering. They are our holy office, a liturgy of love.”
I wish I had this book when I was a new mother. Yet looking back, I can say that despite the chaos, there were plenty of moments when I experienced the awe of being the parent of this tiny person, growing up, developing language, asking amazing questions, making me laugh through the tears, teaching me about generosity of spirit by being quick to forgive and never holding a grudge, reminding me that we belonged to each other, that home was sacred space where we could breathe in peace and breathe out love, where church was watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, learning all about friendship, kindness, and listening to Daniel tiger singing “what do you do with the mad that you feel?”. Home was a refuge where we could feel strong, tired, grumpy, silly, magical, and connected by a holy bond that can only be explained as a miracle. But there were hard times too. Scary times when I feared losing custody of my child just because I had come out as queer when my son was six. I have experienced fear as an immigrant but for me nothing compares to the fear of having your child taken away, being separated from them for being who you are. It was then that I reached out and found community, other mothers who had gone through similar situations and were supportive and loving. We founded the First Latina Lesbian Mothers Support Group in Boston. Together, we felt strong and helped each other to restore hope. Those mothers were my church. Our meetings and public advocacy actions were my spiritual practice. Right now so many families with trans children or families with mixed immigration status are scared. Scared to be separated. Scared to go to school, to go to the hospital, to go to church. Scared to say their name.
I can’t help but think about how hard parenting is in these terrible times. Right now there are parents of trans children and youth and trans parents being hit by waves after wave of hatred, hatred directed towards their children, towards their community. Did you know that it was trangender people who started the Stonewall uprising in 1969 that gave birth to the gay liberation and civil rights movement? The first ones to risk their lives by confronting the police were trans women of color: Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P. Johnson who were pioneers in creating the first shelter for homeless trans kids. In 2016, the Stonewall Inn was designated a national monument by President Barack Obama — becoming the first U.S. landmark dedicated to LGBTQ rights and history. A couple of days ago, the US Parks Service has erased the “T” representing transgender people from the Stonewall Memorial. And we know that the erasure is not only meant for monuments, it is meant for people, for children, for youth. Now more than ever, let us recommit ourselves to support immigrants and trans parents, trans children, trans youth. Let us make our solidarity and allyship with the immigrant and trans community our spiritual practice. Let us remember that immigrant parents and trans parents are our siblings in spirit. Let us remember that immigrant children and trans children and youth are our children. We are a community and a family of choice. We choose Love. Unconditional love. Only love can keep us grounded in the middle of this chaos. Only love can save us. Amen and Blessed Be!
Prayer by the Transforming Hearts Collective
“Spirit of life and love that resides within and among us, we enter this moment with all that we are, with an open heart, and with a love for justice. We hold in love and prayer all transgender people, so many of whom live under the weight of violence, fear, and intolerance. We hold in love and prayer all the ways that transgender people have survived and thrived in a hostile world. We hold in love and prayer all who recognize the significance of gender justice for all people. We who believe in freedom will not rest until it comes. We pray for the dawn of a new day when the very humanity of trans people is no longer called into question or ignored. We pray that physical, emotional, and spiritual violence will come to an end. We pray that a spirit of compassion and care will fill us to overflowing, that we may have the capacity to listen, learn, and grow not only in our awareness but also in our willingness to act. We pray for teachers, spiritual leaders, social workers, lawyers, and all people who heed the call to support trans liberation, trans leadership, and trans visibility.” Amen and Blessed Be!
by Rev. Dr. María Cristina Vlassidis Burgoa