Reflection on Transgender Day of Remembrance

Article by Rev Rosa Ross

During his trial, Jesus was put in a difficult position by Pilate. The authorities that condemned him saw Jesus as a mere man, but he was so much more. Pilate wanted Jesus to speak his truth, but Pilate had already judged his truth as a lie. He wanted Jesus to admit he was the Messiah to ridicule and punish him. Although he was killed in part for his honest response, Jesus’ answer has resonated with Christians for centuries: “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth …” (John 18:33–40).

Most trans people have found themselves in terrible conundrums similar to this: awkward, cringey, frightening. We’re asked in public about our genitals or what our former names were, just to be told who we know ourselves to be isn’t who we really are. Sometimes people are curious, a bit green to these kinds of conversations, and their genuine desire to know is communicated poorly, more “impolite” than threatening. But sometimes, like Jesus with Pilate, these questions are a trial to “expose us.” Often this is just to be ridiculed by bullies, people with nothing better to do than to share their little opinions. However, the reality is these situations carry an implicit threat of violence with the potential to be life-ending.

Often when our truth is forced out of us, we are in danger because we are just being ourselves. Some cis people who may have loved or been associated with a trans person may be overwhelmed by sharing in the shame we are told to feel. At its worst, this can lead to perpetrators lashing out and killing trans people. On Nov. 20, Trans Day of Remembrance, we remember the people who are murdered because they are transgender.

In the previous year, the Human Rights Committee reported that 84% of victims of transphobic violence were people of color with 50% being Black transgender women. The majority were victims of gun violence. Like Christ, these are people not treated with respect by their government whose leaders did not normally look like them. Half of all victims were misgendered or deadnamed by the press or police. Even in their death, earthly authorities fail to recognize the truth these victims brought forth in their life. God sees each one of them and loves them close, knowing the name they chose is the name written in the Book of Life. Like Christ, they were born to come into the world and testify their truth: kings, queens and monarchs all gone too soon.

As recorded in the synoptic gospels, Jesus asked his closest friends about his identity, “Who do people say I am?” His friend Simon gives a list of prophets Jesus has been compared to. Flattering analogies, but not quite accurate. In a tender, personal moment, Jesus asks “But what about you? Who do you say I am?” Simon answers affirming the truth that may have been difficult for many people at first to accept: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

Jesus replies in glee, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven.” Jesus then gives Simon a new name, Peter (changing a name is an experience many trans people can relate to!) and tells him that the church is built on him. Just as Peter could see Jesus for who he really was, so too could Jesus see that the Apostle Peter was so much more than “Simon” the fisherman (Matthew 16:13–20).

This is what transgender Christians see in our cisgender siblings in the Presbyterian Church. We delight when churches do not claim people’s genders for them by what was revealed in “flesh and blood” by genitals or chromosomes but instead seeing us all for who we are by our  stories, by our experiences, and by the love trans people radiate in the world … a love that is surely from the Father in heaven. And in repenting of our sins of sustaining and tolerating racist, transphobic violence the Church can join Simon Peter in becoming so much more than what we are at present. Our transformation will be beautiful and powerful. Our church seeks to take on this call following our transgender and gender-nonconforming siblings, sisters and brothers who we remember and hold dear in life, death and the promise of new life.

Rosa Ross (she/her), M. Div., is a trans woman doing ministry at UKirk Ewing and Ewing Covenant Presbyterian Church in New Jersey. She is a member of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)’s LGBTQIA+ Equity Advocacy Committee.