Y2K or Y2J?

by: Caroline Mason


We've heard a lot of talk recently about Y2K - Year Two Thousand. The second millennium since the birth of Christ is upon us (actually it occurred a few years ago but nobody noticed because of the calendar adjustments during the Renaissance). Since we like round numbers and anniversaries, this has become a time of celebration, speculation and trepidation.

What will the new millennium bring? Will things improve politically for TGBL people? Will hate continue to increase? Will rights be granted or taken away? Will gender-variant people be welcomed as sisters and brothers in mainstream churches or will the process of religious segregation continue to separate congregations into warring camps?

I don't know the answers to any of those questions. And you know what? They are none of my business. Okay, before you get out stones and start throwing them, maybe I should adjust that statement. They are not my primary business in the new millennium.

You see, even if I am the best trans-activist on the planet, even if I gain understanding and acceptance for my people across this country, even if I get every law passed that I think should be passed, it is nothing but dross, if in the process I lose out with God.

As I approach Y2K, I'm not worried about a computer bug or about political activism or about my personal career advancement. No, my slogan for the next millennium (or as much of it as I will experience) is Y2J - YES TO JESUS.

Before I can do anything else of value in this world, I have to say Yes to Jesus. You say, oh, I did that years ago when I got saved. That's great -- but have you done so recently?

Last January, I stood at a crisis point in my life. I was ready to bow out of transgendered ministry. I was going to a gender conference to take part in a discussion of Christianity and Transgendered, but when I came home, my plan was to put the web site and the mailing list on automatic programs, and start living a normal life. I might even consider pursuing a love relationship, something I had relinquished for the sake of the ministry a couple of years before.

Something happened, though. Maybe it was the testimonies of the people at the conference. Maybe it was seeing my people turning away from life toward death. Maybe God just got my attention, but by the time I returned from that conference, I had finally said Yes to what Jesus wanted to do in my life.

I had played it "safe" with my ministry. I had kept it on the peripheries of my other ministries. I never mentioned it to non-transgendered Christians. That ministry was like a ship setting sail with a hawser still tied to the dock. It was on a long rope, but it was still not able to launch out into the deep because I didn't trust God enough to give me my heart's desire.

Saying, Yes to Jesus a year ago has radically changed my life and ministry. You might not notice much in my demeanor or conversation, but there is a great urgency in my heart, a great compassion for my TG sisters and brothers, and a willingness for me to identify myself with them. And as a result of my acceptance of this call, ironically, I have never felt a greater sense of acceptance by others of myself as simply a woman. I have mainstreamed myself more in the past twelve months than in the previous six years of transition.

God is Faithful. His promises are "yea and amen." When I say, yes to Him, he does marvelous things for me.

So, no, I'm neither fearful nor especially excited about the falling away of a calendar page. Y2K is really quiet boring to me since I discovered the much more adventurous Y2J.

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Books:

Gender Blending

Bonnie Bullough (Editor)

Transgender Warriors : Making History from Joan of Arc to Dennis Rodman

Leslie Feinberg


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Also In This Issue:

The Song of Songs Through Gay Eyes

Letting Go






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