Before I Knew Where the Path Would Lead: I Got Drop-Kicked Across the Threshold

In March 2014, during my second term at Vancouver School of Theology, I wrote a long email to Virginia Ramey Mollenkott, whose book Omnigender had recently come to my attention.

I had entered theological studies unexpectedly. Only a year earlier, while struggling with severe underemployment after nearly four decades as a graphic designer, a friend had asked me a deceptively simple question: “If money were no object, what work would you most want to do?”

The answer that came to me seemed so presumptuous that I was almost embarrassed to say it aloud: I wanted to become a chaplain to the transgender community.

By the time I wrote to Virginia, one closed door had given way to another that seemed to open impossibly wide. I was back in school after forty-two years, studying theology and preparing for clinical pastoral education. At the same time, I was trying to find language for theological insights that had first emerged during the private and often painful spiritual journey surrounding my transition.

When I encountered Omnigender, I was astonished to discover that ideas I had been struggling to express in isolation had already been explored with depth and courage by someone who had travelled much of that terrain before me.

I recently rediscovered the email. It is long, earnest, occasionally unpolished, and very much a record of who I was at that moment. Reading it twelve years later, I recognize that I was already describing the work I would eventually be privileged to do—I simply did not yet know where the path would lead. I only knew that, after one door had seemed to close, another opened wide—and I got drop-kicked across the threshold.

My letter to Virginia — March 2014

Note: The explicitly Christian language in this letter reflects where I was spiritually in 2014. My understanding has continued to evolve, but I have preserved the language because it belongs to the story.

Dear Virginia,

Grace and peace in the name of our amazing Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer!

I apologize for the length of this message...There is so much I want to tell you.

I am currently in my 2nd term at Vancouver School of Theology (VST) where I am doing an MA in Public and Pastoral Leadership. This is a very unexpected change in my career path.

About a year ago, a friend took me out for lunch, and on the way to the restaurant she asked how my job search was going. 

The fact is I have been severely underemployed for the last 2 years, ever since I lost my last large client. For the last 40 years, I have been a self-employed graphic designer, and for the last 25 years, I have never had to worry about work coming in, even after my transition a little over 5 years ago. The problem is, and was, that, little by little, my client base began to shrink through attrition—many of my clients are my contemporaries—and once they started to retire, sell, or close their businesses, the workload gradually decreased. In some ways, I was relieved since transition exacted a heavy emotional toll, and with less work, I have more time to focus on my needs.

Anyway, I told my friend the job search wasn't going very well and that I didn't want to talk about it because it was too depressing. We drove in silence for a little bit, and then she asked me: “If money wasn't an object, what job title or job description would I like to have?” I hesitated to answer because what came immediately into my mind seemed so absolutely presumptuous and preposterous. She asked me to spit it out, and I replied self-consciously that I would like to be a chaplain to the transgender community, but immediately followed with a long apology for such a seemingly ridiculous answer. My friend almost drove off the road. She said: “Oh my God, Lisa! That is perfect! That's you!” She wanted to know why I thought it seemed so preposterous to me, and I explained that I just couldn't simply start calling myself a chaplain, that I probably needed some kind of training or certification, perhaps even ordination or something similar. I also protested that I didn't even know if I could get that kind of training in Vancouver.

What make and suggested then seemed far-fetched as my answer. She told me to Google it when I got home, which I did. To my amazement, there was a clinical pastoral experience course being offered through the Vancouver General Hospital under the auspices of the VST. I called the hospital, spoke with the program coordinator, and made an appointment to see him a couple of days later. He was very generous with his time, and the more we talked, the more he thought I would benefit from some theological education at VST, and he proceeded to give me the names of the academic Dean, the registrar, and a professor involved in urban mission initiatives. Though he approved me for a CPE course at the hospital, he encouraged me to 1st meet with these 3 people to pick their brains and get their advice.

That is what I did. The following week, I met with them, and they had mapped out a comprehensive curriculum for the MAPPL degree, which would allow me to include the CPE module at the hospital as part of my electives.

What blew me away was that, given my financial situation, which forced me to apply for financial assistance, I received full support. After what seemed like one door had been shut tight, this door opened wide, and I got drop-kicked across the threshold.

So here I am back in school after 42 years as a full-time student. My plan is to take 4 courses per term, which means that I will graduate in the spring of 2015, 6 months shy of my 65th birthday.

My hope is to parlay my theological and chaplaincy training to offer faith-based support to trans persons and their families. I have received so many heartbreaking letters/e-mails from trans people who have been rejected and cast aside by their families and close friends for religious reasons.

I never expected to be in this position, but since publishing my life story in July of 2011, the letters have trickled in regularly. The irony is that I had this notion that after my surgery, I would live a quiet and private life by blending into society—living as stealthfully as possible. Also ironic is that 6 years ago I simply wanted to die—now I want to live as long as possible so I can help make others' journey easier somehow.

I have never considered myself a theologian. Yet, since I started down this MA in Public and Pastoral Leadership, I've been doing a fair amount of reconstruction as I begin to open my mind to what it all means. That I am grasping for words that might come close to where my heart and spirit are seeing and saying is an understatement. I've been told this is the curse of the theology student. 

Then one day, I had this epiphany and a few days later someone told me about your book, “Omnigender," and I did mental cartwheels (I'm too old to attempt the real thing!) At this point I should explain that all my theological reflections and my faith struggles vis-à-vis my gender identity took place in a total vacuum six years ago; it was a conversation between God and me only. Hence, I did no research whatsoever; had I done so, I would have discovered the many wonderful books, including yours, Justin Tanis’, Kate Bornstein’s and others, and perhaps I could have saved some time!? Actually, God's timing was perfect…I think I needed to go through the process.

I am so grateful to God and the Holy Spirit for revealing to me so many of the same truths you all talk about. For example, in trying to answer the question I am often asked—how do I understand gender in view of the fact that we are created in God's image as male and female? Grasping for words, I stumbled upon an answer a while ago: God is omnigender. God is all gender all the time and always. In the same way that we declare that God is all-knowing and that all knowledge flows from God, including human knowledge, we can say that all gender flows from God. Out of necessity, given our finiteness and all the imposed limitations thereof, we can only aspire to share in some, a very small sum, of that knowledge. We also believe God is all-seeing, and even though God has made room for us on the observation deck, we only see a small portion of all there is to see. With respect to gender, our earthling containers are limited in their capacity to experience and possess the fullness of God's genderness; hence, individually, we experience only a small portion of God's all-genderness. Because God is omnigender, we cannot say God is one or the other, for the distinctions necessary in our earthling experience are rendered inappropriate and irrelevant with respect to God. If we allow this to be so, and believe that They have shared Their divine nature with us earthlings, then our genderness must be understood in this same light, as divine sharing in which we are all enriched by each other's portion of the gender God has gifted us to express since our earthlignness is incapable of all genderness. In the same way we are enriched when we share the knowledge and insights They have generously shared with each of us. Our combined knowledge, vision, and gender experience allow us to become more fully partakers, in communion with each other, of the divine nature. Hence, if we exclude anyone, our combined knowledge, vision and gender experience is shortchanged. Like I said, I was grasping for words.

Perhaps you can now appreciate why I was so excited when I learned about your book. Again, because of my cloistered spiritual development and the spiritual and intellectual isolation I submitted myself to, I knew nothing about you until I went home that day and Googled your book, read the reviews, and I raised my hands to heaven and praised God. 

I know this message has been long on the tooth...I wanted to tell you how much I have enjoyed reading your essays, watching your videos and learning about you. Thank you for being a pioneer and for all the great work you have been doing. I'm a little embarrassed by my admission—that I had no idea there was so much of your work out there. But having said that, I have never felt as affirmed and loved by God because They allowed me to understand Their heart as They opened my eyes.

Your sister in Christ,

Lisa Salazar