A Letter to God (Writing for a Class)

Dear God,

This week, in my studies of the African diaspora, I have found myself reflecting on the roots of my beliefs in you and Christianity. When I was reading “Altars-Puntos” for class, the question that struck me the most was “What stories bring us into being?”. In the reading, this question referred to the ways in which frameworks of gender and secxuality were discussed by criollo traditionalists, in that the stories of their faith disrupted Christian based ideas of “gender binaries and hetero-complementarity”. When I read this, it made me consider the ways in which my own existence in my gender identity and were shaped by stories from my faith growing up, and how they have since changed.

As a child, I remember my favorite Bible stories usually included strong women. The story of Esther, for example, really resonated with me. I remember thinking she was brave for standing up to those in power and demanding protection for her people, the Jews, who were going to be massacred throughout the Persian empire on order from Haman, the king’s chief minister. She was everything I felt a woman of God should be; strong in her faith and committed to doing what was right. Knowing this, I feel that the story of Esther cemented the knowledge in me that women were meant to be strong, courageous, and were to fight against injustice (though when I was younger I admit I was more fascinated by the fact that she got to marry a king).

The next story I remember most vividly is the story of Jesus’ mother, Mary, who was chosen by you to bring your son into the world. Mary, to me, was the ultimate maternal figure. I envisioned her as warm, nurturing, beautiful, and kind-hearted. I was so enthralled by her that I remember distinctly the jealousy I felt towards the girls in the church Christmas pageant who played Mary in the nativity scene every year. I thought she was brave for accepting the role of mother to Jesus with a servant’s heart, in spite of her fear. Her story made me believe that as a woman, I was meant to one day raise children and provide care for them. Though now, as an adult, I realize the choice to have a child is very personal and absolutely not mandatory in fulfilling the role of “woman”, I still look forward to being a mother one day.

Since joining my youth group in college, I find myself still being drawn to Bible stories involving strong women, but they differ a bit from the stories I heard growing up. My new favorite Bible story is the one about the Samaritan woman at the well, who meets Jesus. She does not hold the same “purity” that Mary or Esther have in the tellings of their stories. The Samaritan woman is an outcast amongst her people, having been married many times in the past and having a lover that is not her husband. And yet, Jesus shows her love and respect that shocks his own disciples. I love this story because it taught me that being a woman of God does not mean you have to be perfect, or pure, or blameless to be worthy of affection from the Lord. You can be Mary, or Esther, or the Samaritan woman, and can still experience the same kind of love.

These three stories in their own ways have had their own role in bringing who I am now into being, as the woman I am today. When I reflect on the stories of Mary and Esther, I can see myself as a young girl in Sunday school, sitting cross-legged on the floor with my other classmates, listening to the instructor finish up their lesson before our parents arrived from church service to pick us up. That little girl had no concept of any belief system other than the Christianity that she learned from her parents and her church leaders, and had no idea of the stories different from the ones she was hearing that could bring others into existence. When I hear the story of the Samaritan woman, I picture myself sitting at a desk in a Straub classroom, a young woman, surrounded by other students of my youth group. I can look around the classroom and see the differences that shape us. There is a Latinx student who grew up hearing the same Bible stories that I did in church, but in Spanish. There is a student who leads the “Queer and Christian” small group who grew up hearing the Bible stories I did, while in an environment that was not fully accepting of them. There is a Black youth group leader who talks about how boring white churches are when they sing hymns, in comparison to the loud and lively way her church sang them when she was growing up.

For criollo traditionalists, the stories that brought them into being upheld the framework that individuals of any gender or sexual identity are validated in their experiences, as these experiences are shaped by different “forces of nature”. In my experience, the stories that have brought me into being are both the Bible stories I heard growing up, and now the stories of others who have had very different lives than my own because of their race, sexual orientation, or gender identity. My views of myself and the world are shaped by you, God, and the stories of those you bring into my life. You are the “force of nature” that allows me to broaden my own understanding of myself and the beautifully unique individuals you have created.

It is strange to think that one day, I will tell the Bible stories I heard growing up to my own children, who will be just like I was; brand new to the world and not yet able to comprehend all the stories that encompass it. When I tell them the stories of Mary and Esther, I will also remember to tell them of the Samaritan woman. And I will tell them other stories too; of the Latinx student who showed me you can take communion with tortillas instead of bread. And the “Queer and Christian” small group leader who created a safe space for LGBTQ+ individuals to hear these stories in peace. And the Black youth group leader who taught me how to sing hymns with more energy and feeling than I had ever felt before.

Thank you, God, for all the stories you have created and all those you have brought into being as a result.

Amen.