In my new job, as a tarot reader (spiritual life coach), I meet a lot of people who have barely survived evangelical churches. A lot. Many of them are queer like me. Others may not be queer, but they too got judged, hurt, ostracized, and/or punished for years by a church.
Our shop, The Sacred Owl and Salt Room is a sanctuary and a destination for people in East Tennessee who want to still connect to their spirituality and their faith but they don’t know if a church and steeple should come with that faith. And that’s completely understandable. Who goes back to the places that hurt you? Or even the ones that look like those places? However, something is still calling to them, and they don’t know what it is, but they want to hold on to part of the faith they were brought up in, but leave behind the exclusion, the judgement.
They want a God who is strong enough to hold them, but loving enough not to hurt them.
They want this for themselves and they want this for their kids.
“All Our Griefs to Bear,” Jerome Stueart, (11 x 17), watercolor, mixed media on paper. Part of the Bears in the Baptist Hymnal series.
Bears were symbols for the protection I felt through music–through singing the word, “bear,” every Sunday, as if God were speaking to me and sending me strength. It helped guard me against the criticisms I received or the feelings of doubt. I wish all our LGBTQ folks still in conservative, evangelical churches, in communities and towns and cities full of evangelical church goers, this kind of protection–whether they, like me, need to mentally imagine a bear protecting them, or whether they need us to be that protection. Be the shield. Be the Bear. Be the physical, verbal, soulful protection they need to survive the horde of negative onslaught in their daily lives, in the news, in legislative and judicial places. They need us to stand with them, shield them. They too are holy. They too are divine. They need to be protected. Be the shield, be the bear, be the protection that bears their grief, bears with them the barbs and arrows aimed at them, strengthens them with presence and love so they can find safety at this time.
Imagine if Little Red Riding Hood had gotten a tarot reading right after she met the Wolf, but before she got to Grandma’s House?
I am working on a video where I gave LRRH that Tarot reading. I did this to show people how tarot works–even in a fictional setting. This might take a bit of the Woo-Woo away from Tarot, but I also found it pretty cool that the cards came out in such a way that you could give LRRH an accurate reading at this moment in her life. Despite her being fictional. I tried hard to ignore what I knew might come up– but the cards were pretty straightforward anyway.
We know this tale has been through several versions, some where she gets away, some where she dies, some where she is rescued by a hunter after she and grandma are eaten by the wolf, others that slap the wolf on the hand. Charles Perrault used the story as a warning to young women not to trust strange men (or maybe men in general). Though the wolf in my picture may have a flower in hand and has talked to LRRH, I know she is a child. While the cards can indicate that she is intrigued by the stranger and may even recognize some flirting as a possible interpretation, I don’t want to encourage a romance between a child and a stranger no matter how much sexy LRRH material is out there.
In my tarot reading, I think the cards are building her up to listen to her intuition, to that voice in her head that says that she should be cautious, and so I tell LRRH to be careful because all is not what it seems, and she needs to be more skeptical of strangers in the woods.
This is consistent to an earlier French version of the tale called “The Story of Grandmother,” where the girl is clever enough to escape!
I would have loved to tell her–don’t go to grandma’s, don’t think the wolf is nice, because I know an ending of the story, but this is about what you can and can’t know through tarot, not about this tale in particular. I won’t know the ending of your story or any future things for sure—Tarot is good for getting us to see the NOW better.
What did I learn about her:
She’s growing up and resisting being treated like a baby by her parents. She thinks her parents rules are outdated and old. She reminded me that she is a teen.
Queer and Trans folks have always been a part of churches, supporting them and bearing them up. You just might not have known who they were. Many chose to stay quiet and serve the church–a job they love–rather than risk that good work by coming out.
I remember once, in 2004 or 2005, when I had returned to the US after discovering I was gay, I was dating the pianist for an MCC church in Lubbock (a church that was created by and for and served the LGBTQ community and anyone else who wanted to participate and enjoy). He took me to a secret Saturday Board Game Day for queer men. These were friends of Jay, and met in someone’s home. They were all in their 50s and 60s, playing Snakes and Ladders on folding tables, laughing and calling each other “old queens.” I felt accepted and loved and pulled in to this “secret” meeting. Why was it secret?
They were the music ministers, pianists or organists at local churches in the Lubbock area. They were all closeted, except for the man who brought me there, and they told me stories of “little old women” who loved them because they reminded them of Liberace. And they would laugh, but you could tell that they loved being loved— who doesn’t?
But they couldn’t come out. They were beloved by their churches—but they were certain it would all disappear if they came out.
Every straight teen boy could stand up in a congregation and announce that he was engaged to the girl sitting beside him and the church would cheer for them, but for these men, they couldn’t talk about who they loved, and if they did, they had to mask. It was necessary to keep their jobs, homes, livelihoods, friends, all of it. Coming out in a church in Lubbock, you could just as easily trip on a snake and be sent to the bottom of the board.
Even in these conditions, in George W Bush’s America of 2004, 2005, a re-election won by scaring conservatives about gay marriage, these men, these “old queens” were happy to be here in this house, free to be themselves, playing games and reassuring each other that they were not alone. Their energy and joy was their survival and rebellion. They continued to serve their congregations that same energy and joy–and they were responsible for the feelings people had coming to church. Their joy translated into joy for everyone who came; their love for the music or the arts or the theatre had a ripple effect on everyone. They bear up the souls of every member of the congregation. I celebrate them today and hope that in the future they can all be fully loved and celebrated and affirmed for who they are in every aspect.
The song on the rainbow music here is “Be Still My Soul, the Lord is on your side. Bear patiently, the cross of grief or pain.” Let’s celebrate and send love and support to all those who love to give us joy through music and the arts in our churches (and in other areas) even when they have to erase part of themselves to survive in their churches. I hope there is a secret Board Game Saturday in all the cities for all of them.
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“Bearing Up the Church,” Jerome Stueart, (11 x 15) watercolor, mixed media on paper. Part of my Meditations on the Bears in the Baptist Hymnal series. Prints available at Redbubble.
When I first came out, I stayed in my church for a year and a half to try and start a dialogue, and to help try and mend the rift that my coming out suddenly caused. I didn’t want to abandon friends and family that I loved. But I didn’t realize how hard staying in the church would be, and how much of a toll it can take on your mind and your heart to hear over and over again that God does not agree with you, and that friends are trying to tell you that you are wrong and need to change. It can wear your resolve down and make you doubt God and your own truth.
I used to tell others who come out to their church to stay, help reason with them and to show them love and to give them a queer or trans person to speak to and understand. But I can’t ask anyone to stay in a toxic environment–there are better churches, whole congregations out there who will love you, understand you and support you. Shout out to Whitehorse United Church and First Baptist Church, Dayton, OH for being two of those churches.
Go, my beautiful LGBTQ friends, families and allies, and find the love you were promised, free of judgment.
“Bear the Light,” (11 x 15) Jerome Stueart, watercolor, mixed media on paper. Second in the series, Meditations on the Bears in the Baptist Hymnal. Prints available at Redbubble in Bearnabas shop.
When I came out in 2009 to my church, it did not go as I’d hoped it would. But it was music that strengthened me. According to Hymnary, a database of all hymns and hymnals online, there are 6,165 bears in hymns that have been used in Christian churches. They might be “bearing the cross” or “bearing one another’s burdens” or ask us to help them “bear the light” or ask God to “bear us safely over.” Many hymns sung every week have a bear in them. Because I identified with the “bear” community of gay men, I felt like this was a little love note sent by God every Sunday to strengthen me, and so I would sing the hymns as I always would, but I’d be extra loud and strong on the word “bear.”
I’ve mentioned before that I had some leftover grief from that time fifteen years ago, some that bubbled up while I was watching Star Trek with Joey one night. I cried so hard and didn’t know why. I thought I’d worked through all of that years ago. So I went on a journey to find healing. Part of that journey involved creating 9 paintings that I want to share with you. They are images crafted by grief and pain and hope. I did them intuitively, just listening to what my heart was upset about, what it wanted to say, what it wanted to see. I discovered all these protective, strong bears were still there in my head and heart. Many of these paintings surprised me, but they also make my heart glad to see them. And I’m glad to start sharing them with you. I hope they make you glad too.
Originals and prints are available in the comments.
“Day by Day, He Gladly Bears and Cheers Me,” (11 x 15) Jerome Stueart, watercolor, mixed media on paper.
As events ramp up, as rights continue to be stripped away, and good people are hurt, kidnapped, enslaved, fired, bullied, silenced, and killed, and when it seems evident that fascism is taking hold in our country, we have few choices but to topple these despots before they build their gilded ballrooms and settle in like Long-Covid in our White House.
I call this painting, “Topple,” and I list some ideas for toppling at a local level:
call your representatives–bug the hell out of them.
vote them out when you are able to
speak out at town meetings, on the radio, on TV, on Youtube, FB, Instagram, anywhere you can
create art, music, little libraries, banners, flags, protest signs, dance, anything that allows you to either a) address what is happening in some creative way, or b) circumvent the hopelessness and despair that can creep in by creating something beautiful, fun, outrageous, daring, dynamic, peaceful to keep the Light going
refuse to work for corrupt governments. If everyone in Texas Governor Greg Abbott’s office refused to come to work, he would be alone; if Trump’s staff quit or refused to come to work for one week, he would falter (and at Mar-a-Lago). While I know that much of his cabinet are loyal to him, partly through fear, I wonder if Hyatt Hotels could shelter the staff as well as they shelter fleeing Texas Democrats.
strike–though this sounds like the previous point, a general strike is all of us just shutting down the whole country. Doing it now when they don’t have AI back-ups for your jobs, is better. Perhaps a few days of this would change things.
Run for Office. Challenge the Republicans in your district–run on ALL of the things that Trump and Republicans are taking away from every citizen. Make the Midterms about seeing what the LEGISLATIVE branch can do without the President.
I’m sure there are other things we can do to disrupt the system, take down the billionaires, and force change in this country. The rich have always, historically, underestimated the people and the people have surprised them every time.
Together, when we are fighting for the same things, we are unstoppable. We just have to realize that we are essentially on the same side and always have been. Realize and discern who are your allies (most likely anyone who makes less than a million a year is your ally by default! Run with that.)
TOPPLE. TOPPLE the Oligarchy.
*This illustration depicts a mass uprising to metaphorically disrupt billionaires, tyrants, and despots by metaphorically unseating them from their giant chairs of power through all the ways I iterate on the illustration and in the post itself and does not suggest or depict or condone violence. This ain’t Jan 6, y’all.
I have to think birds came to Jesus as he ascended into the heavens. In my mind, they would have come to say goodbye, or hello, or just to be playful with the only person they’d ever seen fly. We are told many times in the Bible that Jesus cares about the fates of birds, specifically sparrows, common in Jesus’ area and time, as plentiful and as associated with humans and human habitats as they are today. People thought they were annoying. Some still do.
When I was a child I had a neighbor who killed sparrows on purpose.
He was an older gentleman with the largest house on the block. LD was his name. He had erected a purple martin house at the back of his fenced property, which adjoined the back of our unfenced property (we were living in the church parsonage while my dad was pastor at Braymer Baptist Church). When one puts up a purple martin house, I was told, you want purple martins to come and nest there–not sparrows, or any other bird. It seems to me in retrospect that it’s arrogant to think you open up free apartments and reject whatever birds they attract. He didn’t want those bird houses filled with “nasty” sparrows, so he installed cages at the bottom of the pole of the purple martin house, cages where he placed enticing food to attract sparrows.
So for the birds he wanted, he created homes; for the birds he didn’t, he created cages.
“A Healing Breakfast on the Beach (After Easter Series),” Jerome Stueart, (11 x 15) watercolor and mixed media on paper. 4-22-2025.
A good meal can heal us.
This is a depiction of a beautiful story (John 21) of Jesus, after he comes back from the dead, visiting his friends. It’s not unlike stories from friends I’ve talked to who have had someone pass recently. Stories of healing conversations with loved ones who have died. These stories have a similar theme, though maybe they didn’t see their friend quite so “in the flesh,” but the idea of a healing conversation still rings true and is common. We need to have old wounds resolved and healed after someone dies. Part of grieving is healing wounds that we might be keeping alive inside ourselves.
Bear Witness 