Is it possible to believe in God and be gay? How does it feel to be excluded from a religious community because of your sexuality? Why do some people still believe being LGBT is a sin?
The book of Queer Prophets contains modern-day epistles from some of our most important thinkers, writers and activists: Jeanette Winterson tackles religious dogma, Amrou Al-Kadhi writes about trying to make it as a Muslim drag queen in London, John Bell writes about his decision to come out later in life, Tamsin Omond remembers getting married in the middle of a protest and Kate Bottley explains her journey to becoming an LGBT ally.
Essays from: Jeanette Winterson, Phyll Opoku-Gyimah, Amrou Al-Kadhi, Pádraig Ó Tuama, Rev. Winnie Varghese, Keith Jarrett, Jay Hulme, Lucy Knight, Tamsin Omond, Erin Clark, Michael Segalov, Jarel Robinson-Brown, John L. Bell, Mpho Tutu van Furth, Karl Rutlidge, Garry Rutter, Rev Rachel Mann, Judith Kotze, Jack Guiness, Dustin Lance Black, Ric Stott. Afterword: Kate Bottley
Thought this began promisingly. I quite enjoyed Amrou’s poetic and thoughtful account of how he, starting with the truth he knew about himself, freely and creatively drew on aspects of his Muslim heritage to discover a liberating personal spirituality that chimed with his own experiences, and so found a kind of healing from the previous sense of alienation he’d felt. Unfortunately (to me) this first chapter didn’t really set the tone for the rest of the book.
I’d hoped that this book would be one that could appeal to many LGBT people, by showing how LGBT people could have a positive experience of the “spiritual” dimension (whatever exactly that means - no particular theistic/metaphysical implications intended...) of life and/or find healing from any negative experiences of traditional religion. But the book turned out to be narrower than that, becoming mainly a collection of reflections by LGBT Christians on how they have reconciled themselves with the Christian faith/Church. No doubt there’s an audience for this (LGBT Christians or those drawn to Christianity) but I’m not sure how helpful it would be to LGBT people more widely. As a former Christian, it held some interest for me, although it treads old ground with its ‘prophetic’ lectures to the Church and its tortured grappling with (and strained re-readings of) the Bible. It can sound quasi-evangelical/apologetical, which will jar with some non-religiously-inclined LGBT readers and, again, as a former Christian, I’m personally not mad on attempts to encourage LGBT people along a Christian path - not least because of the painful trials often involved, as laid bare by this very book.
On that note, some readers may also find ‘Queer Prophets’ stirs up painful memories or questions they feel they would be best to leave alone, so caution may be advised. It’s their choice whether to go on with the book, of course, and if they feel comfortable enough to read it, some may well find it interesting and enriching to learn about others’ experiences. The chapters are generally well-written and perhaps I’m being a little unfair by not judging the book more on its own terms and intentions. It’s always hard when reviewing a book to know how far to go on personal taste or how far to attempt a more ‘impartial’ assessment. In any case, my own opinion is there are probably different ‘queer prophets’ out there who might have a more beneficial message, with a wider appeal, to share with LGBT people.
(3.5) There isn’t, or needn’t be, a contradiction between faith and queerness, as the authors included in this anthology would agree. Many of them are stalwarts at Greenbelt, a progressive Christian summer festival – Church of Scotland minister John L. Bell even came out there, in his late sixties, in 2017. I’m a lapsed regular attendee, so a lot of the names were familiar to me, including those of poets Rachel Mann and Padraig O’Tuama.
Most of the contributors are Christian, then, including ordained priests like Desmond Tutu’s daughter, Mpho, and LGBT ally Kate Bottley, but we also hear from Michael Segalov, a gay Jewish man in London, and from Amrou Al-Kahdi (author of Unicorn: The Memoir of a Muslim Drag Queen), who describes the affirmation they found in the Sufi tradition. Dustin Lance Black tells of the exclusion LGBT Mormons still encounter.
Jarel Robinson-Brown addresses his lament on mistreatment to his nephew, as James Baldwin did in “My Dungeon Shook” (in The Fire Next Time). Tamsin Omond recounts getting married to Melissa on a London bridge in the middle of an Extinction Rebellion protest. Erin Clark, though bisexual, knows she can pass as straight because she’s marrying a man – so is she ‘gay enough?’ Two trans poets write of the way cathedrals drew them into faith. The only weaker pieces are by Jeanette Winterson (there’s nothing new if you’ve read her memoir) and Juno Dawson (entirely throwaway; ‘I’m an atheist, but it’s okay to be religious, too’).
Again and again, these writers voice the certainty that they are who God means them to be. A few of them engage with particular passages from the Bible, offering contextual critiques or new interpretations, but most turn to scripture for its overall message of love and justice. Self-knowledge is a key component of their search for truth. And the truth sets people free.
This collection of essays, despite at times offering some rather difficult to read experiences, felt very hopeful, and I know that it will have a great impact on many people - I particularly loved Ruth's essay at the end. However, I can't help but noticing that the majority of the essays are written by white, cis Christians and are written from a very Western-centric point of view, and I just wish there was more nuance. I also, unfortunately, found Juno Dawson's essay to be a bit pointless...it only lasted a couple of pages compared to the rest and was basically 'I'm not religious but others are and that's okay', and it felt, to me, like a bit of a strange inclusion.
Thanks to Netgalley and Harper Collins for an e-ARC copy in return for an honest review!
TW: mention of su*cidal ideation, religious trauma, domestic abuse
Poets and priests, atheism, anger, victims of the various hatreds of religious folks, and those who’ve found their way back with an extraordinary ability to forgive.
I picked this book up because I knew a chapter was written by one of my favorite poet/writer/thinkers, Pádraig Ó Tuama. I didn’t plan to read much more than that because his words comfort me. What I found was a diverse collection of stories from different countries, genders, ethnicities, ages, and lived experiences.
Given my own past, I shy away from most religious writings. This collection was as welcoming as I’d hope from a group of queer authors. Not one exhortation to “get over it” and forgive the hurts, not one preacher trying to guilt trip or convert. Just people of different faiths, orientations, and genders sharing their stories of survival and hope. It’s a beautiful collection.
Did it reconcile my issues with faith? No. Am I glad I read it? Yes! Has it made me feel less alone in the battle with organised religion (mainly Christianity) and comforted me with the knowledge that there are people who have created spaces where faith and queerdom are accepted? Absolutely!!
Anyone queer with even a smidgen of faith, be it trauma or not, must read this book. For insight and hope!!
Thank you to NetGalley and Harper Collins UK (William Collins) for an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
I can't even begin to articulate how I felt whilst reading this book. It's equal parts inspiring and heart-breaking. As someone who isn't religious, I was really interested to hear the stories of people on the lgbtq+ spectrum speaking about their own voices stories of their experiences with religion.
This book explores various religious beliefs and their stance on the lgbtq+ community, most of which on a base level seem to deny the identity of those who are different, and don't conform to a ""regular"" heterosexual relationship between a man and a woman. Yet, on a deeper level and through some more progressive figures in each of these authors' lives, they managed to break through that base level belief and find a place in their life where they can be happy with their faith and sexuality intertwining and I love that so much. We see a lot of negativity where the lqbtq+ communities and religion meet and this book doesn't deny the negativity, but instead tells true, inspiring stories of people overcoming this divide.
I'm really glad that I got the opportunity to read this book and I'm honestly just in awe of all of these authors and their stories. I think that this book could be so incredibly valuable to an lgbtq+ audience who feel as though they don't fit in within their religious communities. It's so important for there to be more of these own voices stories out there.
Comprising 21 highly personal essays in which various LGBT+ individuals discuss their struggles in reconciling faith with self, this is one the most insightful collections of stories that I have read this year. Starting with a lyrical telling by Amrou Al-Kadhi, navigating their queer, Muslim identity, to the heartbreaking Mormon childhood of Dustin Lance, who eventually came out as gay, to the inspiring ordination of Karl, a disabled, bisexual trans man, every story exhibits incredible vulnerability and incredible strength. How DOES one bring together two defining aspects of life, when they often seem at direct odds with each other? How can one love the same gender, but also love God? How can a woman be ordained to the Church of England, and openly support LGBT+ rights? How can religious groups be more open-minded and inclusive?
A "prophet" is defined as an inspirational teacher. In this novel, 21 prophets demonstrate the need for understanding - an imperative for societal progress towards inclusivity, and the part that both LGBT+ and LGBT+ allies can play in this vision of a world where diversity is not frowned upon and shunned, but lauded. This book was inspiring, moving and incredibly educational. A must-read, for everyone.
Thank you to WM Collins and HarperCollins for this #gifted hardcover copy in exchange for an honest review.
I really valued reading the different perspectives in this and it was an incredibly interesting read. As with all collections, some essays did not impact me quite as much as others, but I've really appreciated getting glimpses into such personal writings.
My main critique is that I wish the faiths of the contributors had been a little more balanced. One writer is a Muslim, another is Jewish and one is an atheist, but the rest of the 24 voices were all Christian so that felt quite uneven. I do appreciate that the Christian contributors were from a variety of different branches of Christianity so there was variety in that sense, it's just the balance of religions explored in this felt uneven. That said, I really valued getting a glimpse into each contributor's life and journey with their faith, sexuality and/or gender.
This book contains twenty one essays about the intersection between sexuality and religion. Each essay is written by a different person, mostly members of the queer community aside from one ally at the end. This book contains both a christian lesbian and a muslim drag queen. Theologians, priests and conversion therapy survivors. Trans and nonbinary people. Artists, activists and writers. Diverse races and nationalities. The different essays cover many different experiences and each gives a unique viewpoint on being both religious and queer. The essays do seem to be predominantly christian, although several different denominations are included.
Can you be both queer and religious? This is a question that many queer people (including myself) have struggled with. So much homophobia and transphobia seems to come from religious communities, and so many queer people have been hurt by religion. But these essays show that for many queer people, it is possible to be both queer and religious, and to be so without supressing part of your identity. This book doesn't deny the hurt and pain that religion causes to many queer people. In fact, it shows that there is hope, and that there are ways to be both queer and religious without needing to 'reconcile' with your identity, or pick and choose which parts of yourself you can express.
This book is beautifully written and at times it's almost poetic. Every story is moving and emotional. Many of the essays talk about family rejection, abuse, exorcisms and conversion therapy, the belief that you are going to hell, and having to choose between religion and identity. Some of the writers explore religion on their own, discovering their own truth. Others have experiences of God, either within or outside of organised religion. There is plenty of discussion of religious texts and how religious groups cherry pick or twist texts to suit their bigotry. The writers of colour talk about reclaiming God as something for them, rather than the weternised, colonial idea of God as a cis straight white man. There are also stories from queer people who have lost their faith entirely, and how conflicting and confusing that can be, and even a story about coming to faith from a non religious background. Whilst there are common themes across all of the essays, each one is a unique voice letting the reader into their heart and mind.
I really enjoyed reading this book. It wasn't always an easy read, due to a lot of the issues feeling very personal to me, but a message of hope truly does wind its way through the pages. I think this is the kind of book lots of people could benefit from reading. Queer people struggling with religion, religious people who don't understand why this is an issue for queer people, and even athiests who don't understand why it's all such a big debate.
I'll leave you with this quote, which I felt really sums up a lot of the experiences, regardless of religion, and really resonated with me: 'It's not Allah who forbade my queer identity, but the people who ignored the well of alternative potentials in the Quran'.
this wasn’t really what I was after but I’m not rating it cos it’s not its fault - even I don’t really know what I’m after. but be warned going in that this is mostly sad coming out stories about religious trauma rather than anything interesting about queerness through the lens of christianity or vice versa (big up Erin though)!
hilariously, after reading the chapter where a guy and his homophobic, mega-religious dad managed to bond over him writing a novel about pilgrims (their shared obsession), I did some digging to find the novel cos 100% I want to read a gay ex-Christian’s pilgrim book, hello?, only to find I’VE ALREADY BLOODY READ IT
A book of all the feels! It’s outrageous how some LGBTQIA+ people have been treated by some branches of organised religion and churches. Persecution, conflict and exclusion is the reaction to fear: fear of difference and fear of those who don’t conform to collectively held ‘norms’. This book is a collection of essays by various people who identity with the LGBTQIA+ community and they each give a brief insight into some of their spiritual journey. It’s a book of great sadness in places but also of great hope and courage. There is still much work to be done and it physically pains my heart that so many people of all identities are marginalised in this way.
21 writing using different styles to express their personal stories in relation to identity and faith. Deeply moving at times, heart breaking in places to hear what some have experienced, thought provoking and challenging all along the way. This is not a book for arguing the ins and outs of theology and sexuality for instance (though it speaks into that). But rather this is a book which calls readers to try and listen well to what is being shared.
The Book of Queer Prophets is the book I needed when I was coming out. I was raised in a strict evangelical American style church in the UK. When I first tried to come out to my Mum at 13 , she immediately told me I was going to hell, this book would have been an fantastic resource for both of us, providing relatable stories grounded in faith.
The Book of Queer Prophets is a collection of essays by LGBTQ+ people of a variety of different faiths and religious affiliations discussing their own experiences navigating their sexuality within the confines of their religion, and their religion within the confines of their sexuality. The folx writing the essays often had to forge a new path for themselves, and they explain how they did so and what elements of scripture that they found comfort and acceptance in.
The tone and styles of the essays vary, as do the epxeriences of the people writing them. I personally found the content rich, relatable and wholly important. I think this book aimed at teens and adults and I am definitely going to purchase a copy for my mum on release day with the hope that it will help us each understand each other's perspectives.
This book means so much to me. My queer friends and queer friends of faith are my biggest inspirations for what it means to love. These words from brilliant, brave individuals are a testament to that. Thank you for existing and for loving<3
“ ‘Let my people go’, Moses told the Pharaoh.
I had accidentally stumbled into a love of the Bible. Somewhere along the way, I learned that the Bible was less a manual for keeping out of hell and more a library for the living. Whatever the future, it told stories of people who had the courage to live now: these people survived genocides; they gave God new names when the old names stopped working; they changed; they survived; they made rituals to mark the horror that had broken them. One of them called God a ‘deceiving stream’, but still wept in prayers. In this vast landscape of language there was an argument about what God meant, and that argument welcomed all kinds of people.
I wouldn’t say the essays are of varying quality, but I would definitely say I connected with some more than others, and some contributors clearly *write* more than others. But that’s okay - in a collection spanning 24 contributors, I’d expect nothing less. Still gonna hit the book with that 5 star rating! I have no doubt that everyone who reads the collection will feel the same - same of the essays will resonate much more.
I hope that people reading this book find solace. By its nature, writing about faith, like writing about art or music, is hard. Capturing feelings is ephemeral. You can too often miss the mark in communicating your depth of feelings to others. It's hard! But this anthology format, with such a variety of authors, is a great counter to this problem of. There are so many exquisite moments in this book. Take, for example, the wonderful Pádraig Ó Tuama making the deep connection between the trans experience and Jesus himself. It’s pure beauty and hope:
“Recently I was working with a group of LGBTI people where the majority of the group were trans or intersex. I had been asked to lead the Bible study. We looked at the text where Jesus of Nazareth is twelve years old and is among religious leaders. He is astounding them with his insight. But they do not know how to believe that the truth can exist in this kind of human package. We, LGBTI people at a Bible study, asked a question: 'What truths have we known about ourselves since we were young?' People knew what it was to know themselves. They also knew what it was like for their insight to be denied. For decades. The Bible study lasted for hours. People spoke about the indigenous understanding they'd had about themselves since they could think. 'I didn't know the Bible could help us read our own lives,' someone said.”
On a saucier note, I also adored the opening of Keith Jarrett’s essay on his first gay sexual experience:
“..I took in the perfection of his chest, the feel of his weight on mine. And then...and then...GOSPEL! A medley of riffs piercing the air. Mary Mary, doing vocal gymnastics for Jesus, in the middle of this most intimate moment, in the middle of an act I still thought of as an abomination. JESUS being sung at full volume, in front of the sachets of condoms and lube I'd retrieved from under the bed. The shame shot through me as I leapt to switch off the speaker and fumbled for my clothes. After years of hiding Jesus away from my sexuality -- and vice versa -- the two had collided. How could I have been so careless?”
This book holds so much beauty and hope alongside so much sadness and human cruelty. I wouldn’t call it a rollercoaster, it’s not sensationalist in any way, but it is not a book to be devoured so quickly. I read it with my lovely book group, and we all found that we savoured the essays over a number of weeks rather than gobbling them.
I also waited to hear what everyone else in the book group said. It was a unanimous success. I have rarely seen us so excited by a choice, and never have I seen so many tabbed up books! We kept reading passages to each other (via zoom), which we rarely do - such is the emotive beauty in these essays. The practising Christians in our group found particular beauty in the book’s contributors who included biblical textual analysis in the book. It’s a real reframing, and not in an exegetical, academic sense, but in simple, loving terms. I think we will all remember this book.
Some of our favourite essays (and two of the most heartbreaking) were “Mustangs and Mama Dragons” by Dustin Lance Black, a truly shocking, harrowing insight into the Mormon church some decades ago; and “Speaking Love to Power” by Mpho Tutu van Furth, whose experience of exclusion from the South African Anglican Church is sadly all too recent.
I thought I’d share - the opening dedication, “And it is dedicated to the love of my life, Caroline, who doesn’t believe in an interventionist God, but knows that I do.” is a reference to the beautiful Nick Cave song, “Into my arms”. A wedding song classic!
We had a couple of points of criticism of the book: of 24 contributors, we found it slightly odd that there was just one muslim, one jew, and one latter day saint contributing. We massively enjoyed each of these contributions, but found the ratio a little odd and thought a greater mix or a solely Christian focus would have worked better.
If you enjoyed this book, I’d recommend “New Habits: Today’s women Who Choose to Become Nuns”. It’s a different but related book which I also enjoyed very much, from the stance of a non-believer (sorry!). I recommend "The Book of Queer Prophets" to believers and non-believers alike.
21 persons of faith writes personal stories about queerness and religion. They come from different faith traditions - Muslim, Mormon, at least ones atheist and many different church families and they bring perspectives from many parts of the world. They tell stories about their childhood, teenage years or coming to faith as an adult. They tell stories about how they’ve come out to families about being queer, to their churches, to their fellow students at theology seminars, and many other situations. They’ve got both positive and negative experiences of being queer and also being a person of faith. A lot of them are working for change in their faith communities and some of them are even working as priests or leaders of other kind. They invite me as a reader, or listener because I listened to the audiobook version, to new perspectives on faith and what the Bible means and they also challenge me to work for change and inclusion of all. I’m so grateful to have been able to sit down and listen to these queer prophets and I want to recommend this book to everyone who’s a person of faith or seeking faith, both those being lgtbq+ themselves but also people who need to learn. This book means so much to me and has given me so much hope so I’m thinking this might be the read of the YEAR at least it’s surely the read of the month for July.
I really liked the concept for this book; as someone who's both queer and religious (though only liberally/mildly), I was curious to see how the contributors to this book would discuss the intersections of these two things. For the most part, their thoughts were interesting and nuanced, recalling struggles with internalised homophobia and worries about how the church would react to their queer identities. Mpho Tutu van Furth and Tamsin Omond's essays were particularly interesting and I thought Ruth Hunt's essay/afterword was a great note to finish on.
Unfortunately, it's been a few weeks since I read this and I've already forgotten a few of the essays, so they didn't really have a lasting impact on me. I also question whether including Kate Botley's essay (about being an ally) in the anthology takes space away from another queer contributor who could have shared their story? (Having said that, I did enjoy reading what she'd written.) I also think this collection was limited by the fact that it mainly focused on Christianity, and I would really liked to have seen more essays from people of other faiths.
On the whole, though, this is a quick and interesting read and I think it'll have a lot of significance to people who are queer or questioning and also religious.
Content warnings for homophobia and internalised homophobia, religious bigotry, mentions of violence.
As with any anthology, there were some pieces that resonated with me more than others, but overall I thoroughly enjoyed this book. This was given to me by my partner, who knows that I am a queer, trans, Christian that absolutely loves anthologies— and goodness did they hit the nail on the head with this one!!
I do agree with what some other reviewers have said, in that I wish the book had more diversity of faiths. Being a queer Christian, I have read lots of works on queerness and Christianity, and I would have loved to see how queerness and faith intersect for folks other different faiths (I guess that means I’ll have to see what’s already out there!!).
I have to say that the final essay in the acknowledgments is the one that brought tears to my eyes— wholeheartedly because it sounds like something my mom could have written about our relationship (outside of my mom not being a priest LOL). My HEART.
Overall, I am very glad to have read this. My queerness and my faith are integral parts of my being, and it always makes my heart feel so tender when I get to hear stories of how others experience faith and queerness.
The chapters 'Mustangs and Mama Dragons' by Dustin Lance Black, 'A Letter to My Nephew' by Jarel Robinson-Brown, and 'How to Get God's Attention' by Jay Hulme were the highlights of the book by far. Very moving and struck me, especially Hulme's experience of nearly witnessing a suicide.
Otherwise, this book was largely forgettable. I appreciate the sentiment and most of the stories, but I didn't connect with much of it. The first chapter put me off because the author described becoming a prophet, too.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
'The Book of Queer Prophets' is a brilliant, diverse collection about religion and sexuality. It's a fascinating, inspiring, and emotional read. I loved it, I would 100% recommend it, and I would definitely read it again.
I personally really enjoyed this collective! Did skip a few. Loved the variety, though I was disappointed that there was one one Muslim and one Jewish essay. I also would have liked more end views of faith, but I think it's really valuable to hear people's stories.
A very insightful and healing book written by queer people of faith. A read I will certainly recommend to others. Note: this first edition has a significant number of spelling and grammar errors.
Spiritual and queer identity are equally inherent parts of who I am, and so this anthology was especially cathartic. It's sometimes difficult, and I often feel alone and worried about how to find somewhere that I belong. It was nice to feel not alone while reading this, and it made me want to look into LGBT-affirming congregations once the pandemic is over.
This was so boring. Almost all of the perspectives were Christian, and all of them belonged to abrahamic religions. The majority could be summarised by "I thought god hated queer people, now I don't".
Das Buch beleuchtet viele rührende, private und einzigartige Geschichten von Menschen, die irgendwas mit Glauben und Gott zu tun haben. Ich war sehr großer Fan der Vielfalt der Geschichten, die aber leider auf den zweiten Blick nicht so vielfältig waren. So wird Bspw. viel von Cis-Personen berichtet und Queer meist nur auf die Sexuelle Orientierung - und da v.a. auf lesbisch/schwul - bezogen. Dadurch werden einige Identitäten leider gar nicht beachtet.
[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]
An interesting, if sometimes uneven collection (like every collection in general, I’d say) of essays from queer people regarding religion and faith, acceptance of LGBTQ+, and how organised religions and individuals alike have both progressed and still need to progress in that regard.
Many of these essays resonated with me, not because I am a believer, but precisely because I’m not anymore: I was raised a Catholic, but could never reconcile religion with all the intolerance (whether snide and discreet or absolutely blatant) it tends to teach. There was always, for me, a clear contradiction between “Jesus is love” and “…but only for people who correspond to the official credo (aka usual cisgender, heterosexual, and if they’re white, it’s even better). Not that these essays have given me renewed faith in any belief whatsoever, but it was good to read about how other people lived this, whether they retained or found their faith again, and especially when it comes to ministers (several of the writers in this collection are or were ordained). While there’s a depressing side to it, considering there’s still a lot of work to be done, there’s also much hope in here for society to change in the future.
I do wish there had been more input, though, from people coming from other faiths than the Abrahamic religions. The book’s synopsis does mention “Is it possible to believe in God and be gay?”, so I don’t know if that was to be read as “strictly God in its Islamic or Judeo-Christian acception” or not. I’d still have been interested in additional perspectives. What about Hinduism, Shinto, Wicca? Do monotheistic religions really have a monopoly on intolerance when it comes to LGBTQ+?
An important book where many different LGBT people write about their own relationships with their faith, a mix of faiths is included alongside a range of experiences including many who have been ordained and then cast out for being LGBT. Some are moving including the Mpho Tutu van Furth Archbishop Desmond Tutu's daughter, Jarel Robinson-Brown who both write eloquently about being ordained Black LGBT people who are then cast out. There is also an excellent essay from Jeanette Winterson on fundamentalism and binaries that makes some really important long overdue points about extremism and 'othering'. This book is moving, enlightening and vital to ensuring that LGBT people of faith find their space in the world.
With thanks to net galley for a free ARC in exchange for an unbiased review.