Clergy Reflection: The Rev. Dr. Gavin Shumate
And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." (Luke 3:22)
During challenging times (such as these), we as clergy become especially focused on loving God and others. Of course we do: if we don’t set that example, then how can we expect others to follow? At the same time, this is a potentially dangerous path. Speaking for myself, I am exhausted by COVID, by hate, by politics, by violence, by poverty, and any number of other challenges our society is facing today.
There have been days when I wondered whether I had any more love to give, whether it was in the form of energy, patience, time, sympathy, or compassion. Then this text came along in the Lectionary.
I’m sure that I’m not the only one to notice how well-timed the Lectionary can be. Certain scriptural passages have been not only formative, but lifesaving to me. They recur again and again in different contexts, with different associated meanings. This is one of them, and this year, it could not have come at a better time.
I am a child of God. I am beloved. God is well-pleased with me. So why do I feel like a wrung-out washcloth that’s been beaten on the stones by the river? Why am I so physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted? Why do I feel like I have no more love to give, in any form?
I have been so focused on bringing my own love offering to God, to my congregation, and to my community, that I have forgotten that it’s not MY love that I bring to others; it’s God’s love. It is through letting God love us that we can sustain ourselves for the work we do in the world. It is God’s love that is endless and boundless; not ours. We are conduits of God’s infinite love to the world. If God is the source of our love (rather than ourselves), then the question becomes, “How can I let God love me more?”
Being reminded (again) that I AM a beloved son of God brought this into particularly sharp focus for me this year, at time when I needed that reminder most. Recently, certain circumstances have resulted in deeply personal aspects of my life becoming extremely public. In 2008, after much prayer, discernment, counseling, and soul-searching, I fully acknowledged and accepted that I am transgender, and began my medical transition. I identify as male, and use the pronouns he, him, and his.
Not having shared my trans status openly before, I wanted the people of St. John’s to hear this directly from me, rather than read it online or in the local news. However, there is no manual on “How to come out to your traditionally conservative congregation.” My pastoral letter was met with mostly supportive acclamations from my church family, although there are those (who are not even members of St. John’s congregation) who refuse to use my pronouns, loudly contest my position in the church, and protest my ministry in the community. At least one family has shared that they will not allow me to perform funeral services for a beloved matriarch who died just last week – a message that has broken my heart as her priest and pastor for the past three years.
A part of me feels hurt and angered, like my ministry with St. John’s has been invalidated by such hateful words and actions. I do not think that I have ever experienced this kind of spiritual “whiplash” before – going so quickly from beloved to shunned. If I felt drained of love before, the response of a few punctuated that feeling and pushed me even further into feelings of anger, frustration, and rejection. Reacting out of this place, I didn’t WANT to share my love with these people anymore. But then I realized, it is not MY love that I am called to share; it is God’s. And who am I (or they) to limit God’s love?
Henry David Thoreau said, “As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives."
In the depths of my anger and sorrow, I was given a well-timed message from God, an invitation to be loved by the One who loves me more than I can possibly imagine: “You are my son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” THIS is the mental path that I have trod, through my growing understanding (and acceptance) of myself as a child of God, fearfully and wonderfully made; and through my formation as a priest. THIS is the message that I choose to think over and over, the thought that I wish to dominate my life: “You are my son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” I am God’s child, God’s son through adoption in Jesus, chosen and marked by God’s love, AS I AM.
I’ve told my congregation many times, “You will never look into the eyes of another person whom God does not love.” It is my fervent prayer that we all let God love us more. Let us find comfort and solace and strength in treading THIS mental path, reflecting the boundless love of God rather than our own finite human love, and then lead others toward the same path of love and acceptance.
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Gavin Shumate is the Priest-in-Charge of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Toledo, as well as a member of the Standing Committee and Deputy to General Convention. He is also the physician owner of Integrity Women’s Health & Wellness in Oregon, a medical practice dedicated to gynecology and trans health. He enjoys taking tap lessons and playing the cello.
