Sister Abigail Hester

Tag: bible

  • When Mammon Wears a Collar: Calling Out the Prosperity Gospel

    By Sister Abigail Hester, OFC

    “You cannot serve both God and mammon.” — Jesus (Matthew 6:24)

    Introduction: The Gospel According to Greed

    There’s a poison infecting the Body of Christ. It’s slick, it’s shiny, and it’s tax-exempt. It dresses in designer suits, flies in private jets, and justifies it all with cherry-picked Scripture. It calls itself “blessed,” but it’s better described as bloated. It claims to preach the good news, but it’s selling snake oil soaked in gold.

    We’re talking about the Prosperity Gospel — that glitzy theology which proclaims that Jesus wants you rich, powerful, and problem-free… so long as you sow your “seed offering” into the preacher’s bank account.

    At the Order of Franciscan Clareans, we stand firmly and prophetically against this distortion of the Gospel. We follow a poor Christ — the one who was born in a barn, died naked on a Roman cross, and taught that the last shall be first. We believe the Prosperity Gospel is not just bad theology — it’s spiritual violence wrapped in tinsel.

    1. Mammon in the Pulpit

    When Jesus said, “You cannot serve both God and mammon,” He meant it literally. Mammon — the idol of wealth, of accumulation, of status — has found its way into the pulpit. Some preachers now sound more like motivational speakers for hedge fund managers than like prophets of the Kingdom.

    They claim:

    “If you’re struggling, it’s because you don’t have enough faith.”

    “If you give to God (meaning them), He’ll multiply your money!”

    “Jesus was wealthy — he had a treasurer!”

    This is not the Gospel. It’s a pyramid scheme with a Bible verse duct-taped to it. It turns faith into a transaction, prayer into a business plan, and the poor into expendable footnotes.

    1. The True Gospel Is Not for Sale

    The Prosperity Gospel peddles a lie: that God’s favor looks like financial success, physical health, and unending comfort. But the cross tells a different story. Jesus — God Incarnate — was poor, persecuted, misunderstood, and ultimately executed by the powers of wealth and empire.

    His apostles fared no better. Not one of them got rich from following Jesus. Most were martyred. Paul wrote half the New Testament from prison. And yet the Prosperity Gospel dares to say suffering is a sign of weak faith?

    No, beloved. The true Gospel costs us something. It calls us to deny ourselves, to carry our cross, to side with the poor, the sick, the imprisoned — not to trample over them on the way to a bigger house.

    1. A Franciscan Clarean Response

    As Franciscan Clareans, we proclaim with clarity and courage:

    Jesus is not a vending machine. Prayer is not a product return.

    Wealth is not inherently evil, but it is inherently dangerous. It numbs compassion, warps our sense of enough, and tempts us to justify injustice.

    Poverty is not a curse, and riches are not a sign of divine approval. The Beatitudes say otherwise.

    The Church is not for sale. If your pastor drives a Rolls-Royce while congregants can’t pay rent, something is spiritually rotten.

    We embrace Lady Poverty — not out of masochism, but because poverty frees us. It reminds us that love, community, and justice are the real treasures. We follow the barefoot Christ, not the bedazzled counterfeit.

    1. Preaching Jubilee, Not Jackpots

    Where the Prosperity Gospel preaches scarcity and hoarding, we preach Jubilee — the radical release of debt, redistribution of wealth, and restoration of the land and its people.

    We call for a Church that:

    Tithes not to pad bank accounts, but to feed the hungry.

    Builds not megachurches, but tiny homes for the unhoused.

    Preaches not prosperity, but solidarity with the oppressed.

    We don’t need a God who rewards the already-powerful. We need a liberating Christ who overturns the tables, kicks out the money-changers, and sets the captives free.

    1. Final Benediction: Fire in the Bones

    If you’ve been wounded by the Prosperity Gospel, we see you. We affirm that your suffering is not proof of God’s absence. Your bank account does not determine your worth. Your illness is not a sin.

    Let the false gospel collapse under its own weight. Let the Church rise up again — poor, prophetic, and full of fire.

    And if Mammon shows up wearing a clerical collar? We call it out. We cast it out.

    Because Jesus didn’t die to make us rich — He rose to make us free.

  • Being a Hindu Christian: Walking the Sacred Path Between Two Worlds


    By Sister Abigail Hester, OFC
    Franciscan Clarean Reflections on Faith Beyond Boundaries


    Introduction: Two Altars, One Heart

    To be a Hindu Christian is to live with your feet in two rivers and your heart rooted in the ocean of the Divine. It’s not a contradiction—it’s a calling. It’s not confusion—it’s communion. In a world that demands religious purity and neat theological boxes, the Hindu Christian shows up like sacred disruption, like incense and incense together, like Ganesh dancing to the Beatitudes.

    Some people say it can’t be done. That Christ and Krishna don’t share space. That the Ganges and the Jordan can’t flow into the same soul. But for some of us, they already do.


    What Is a Hindu Christian?

    A Hindu Christian is someone who sees Christ and the Divine through the lens of both Hindu and Christian traditions. It’s not about cherry-picking. It’s about cultivating a full orchard. We don’t reject either path—we revere them both.

    • We may pray the Our Father in the morning and chant the Gayatri Mantra at night.
    • We might see Jesus as an avatar of divine compassion, a bodhisattva of self-emptying love.
    • We understand reincarnation not as heresy, but as soul-growth, sanctified by grace.
    • We light candles before the Virgin Mary and offer flowers to Lakshmi, without flinching.

    Being a Hindu Christian doesn’t dilute our faith—it deepens it. It invites awe instead of anxiety. It births a God bigger than dogma.


    But Isn’t That Heresy?

    Let’s be blunt: the Church has always feared what it can’t control.

    To be a Hindu Christian is to know you’ll be called names. Syncretist. Idolater. Lost. Confused. Or worse—inauthentic. But here’s the truth: if God is real, then God is not threatened by the beauty of Hinduism. And Jesus? Jesus is not a bouncer guarding heaven’s gates. He’s a door. An open one.

    Besides, Christianity has always evolved in dialogue with culture. Early Christians blended Roman, Jewish, and Greek ideas. Celtic Christians braided Jesus with the sacred land. Why not Hindu and Christian wisdom now?


    What Does It Look Like in Practice?

    It looks like:

    • Reading the Bhagavad Gita and the Sermon on the Mount side by side.
    • Seeing karma and grace not as opposites, but as dance partners.
    • Meditating with mala beads while whispering the name of Jesus.
    • Learning from Sri Ramakrishna, Meister Eckhart, Kabir, and Julian of Norwich—all of whom found God beyond borders.

    It’s a life of inner spaciousness. Of reverence. Of belonging to the whole world while anchored in a personal relationship with the Holy.


    The Gifts of Being a Hindu Christian

    1. Mystical Depth – Hinduism teaches us union with the Divine Self; Christianity gives us Jesus, who shows us God with skin on. Together, we get both the transcendent and the tender.
    2. Embodied Faith – In Hinduism, the divine dances in matter—in food, art, sound, and sexuality. Christianity sometimes forgets this, but the Incarnation is the ultimate reminder that flesh is holy.
    3. Radical Compassion – Both paths invite us to serve. Whether through ahimsa (nonviolence) or agape (self-giving love), we are called to love deeply, fiercely, and practically.

    The Pain of Being a Hindu Christian

    Let’s not sugarcoat it. The path is hard.

    • Churches may reject you.
    • Hindu temples may not understand you.
    • Family may question your loyalty.
    • Religious leaders may call you a contradiction.

    But here’s the thing: God never will.


    Conclusion: The Fire and the River

    To be a Hindu Christian is to sit at the feet of both Jesus and Shiva, to sing praises in Sanskrit and in Aramaic, to walk through the fire with love in your hands and a river in your soul.

    It is to be a bridge. A mystery. A wildflower growing in the cracks of dogma.

    And if you are one—know this: You are not alone. You are walking a sacred path walked by others before you—Saints, mystics, rebels, and lovers of God who knew that truth is never afraid of more truth.

    So light your lamp. Burn your incense. Say your mantras. Follow Jesus. Touch the hem of the Infinite.

    And don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t.

    You already are.


  • A Franciscan Clarean Response To Luke 22:36

    “But now,” he said, “if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one.” (Luke 22:36, NIV)

    This passage is often misunderstood and misused—especially by those trying to justify violence, armed self-defense, or modern gun culture within Christianity. But a deeper, contextual, and Franciscan-Clarean response sees something very different.


    ✝️ A Franciscan Clarean Response to Luke 22:36

    Jesus wasn’t arming his disciples for battle—he was warning them of persecution, and inviting them to prepare their hearts for what was about to unfold. The “sword” in this passage is not a call to violence—it is a symbol of the suffering, misunderstanding, and resistance they were about to face.

    Francis of Assisi, who lived through political violence, war, and crusades, interpreted this passage not with a literal sword, but with radical peace. He laid down weapons, kissed lepers, and chose vulnerability instead of power.

    Clare of Assisi also faced armed threats. But when soldiers came to her convent, she didn’t fight. She held up the Blessed Sacrament and trusted divine protection. Her faith—not a sword—defended her.


    🔍 What Did Jesus Mean?

    When read in light of the whole Gospel, especially the Sermon on the Mount (“blessed are the peacemakers”) and Jesus’ command to Peter to put away his sword just a few verses later in Luke 22:51, it becomes clear:

    Jesus was not calling for literal violence. He was revealing the urgency and danger of discipleship.

    He was saying:

    • Be ready to travel (take a bag)
    • Be prepared for sacrifice
    • Know that following me will provoke empire
    • And yes—prepare for rejection, betrayal, and even martyrdom

    🕊️ A Franciscan Clarean Interpretation

    If you don’t have a sword, buy one?
    If you don’t have courage, seek it.
    If you don’t have truth, hold to it.
    If you don’t have love fierce enough to confront empire, cultivate it—even if it costs you your comfort.

    In today’s world:

    • Our “bag” might be a bug-out kit with herbal medicine and a psalm
    • Our “purse” might be a heart of compassion
    • Our “sword” is not a weapon—it is moral courage, spiritual clarity, truth spoken in the face of power

    🙏 A Prayerful Response

    Christ, you told your friends to be ready.
    Not with weapons, but with willingness.
    Not with violence, but with vision.
    Teach us to pack our bags with kindness,
    To carry truth like a torch,
    And to wield peace as fiercely as others wield fear.
    May we never raise a sword against your children—
    But may we stand boldly against injustice,
    Prepared to love even when it costs everything.
    Amen.

  • Beloved in Truth: A Queer Franciscan Clarean Commentary on 3rd John

    Beloved in Truth: A Queer Franciscan Clarean Commentary on 3rd John

    by Sister Abigail Hester, OFC


    Introduction: A Letter of Belovedness and Hospitality

    The Third Epistle of John is the shortest book in the Bible, yet within its 219 words lies a powerful witness to the Franciscan Clarean way: love, hospitality, truth, nonviolence, and resistance to exclusion. This epistle offers not just early church correspondence, but a sacred mirror reflecting the beloved community God longs for—a community that centers welcome, integrity, and relational justice.

    As Francis and Clare of Assisi abandoned wealth and privilege to live in solidarity with the poor and marginalized, so too does this text challenge us to examine who we honor, who we welcome, and how we live out truth and love in action. When read through the lenses of queer theology, liberation theology, and liberal Christian universalism, Third John becomes a testimony to sacred resistance against authoritarian gatekeeping and a defense of radical inclusion.


    3 John 1:1 — “The elder to the beloved Gaius, whom I love in truth.”

    Franciscan Clarean Reflection:
    This epistle begins with deep affection: “whom I love in truth.” Not merely doctrinal truth, but relational truth—a truth rooted in mutual recognition, spiritual kinship, and unwavering love. For the Order of Franciscan Clareans, this echoes the holy intimacy between Francis and Clare—two souls bound not by institution but by the Spirit’s free movement.

    Queer Theological Insight:
    The language of “beloved” evokes the queer spiritual affirmation of chosen family. Gaius is not simply a church member—he is cherished, seen, and embraced. Queer and trans people, often cast out by religious institutions, can find hope in this epistle’s model of love rooted in truth and not conformity.


    3 John 1:2 — “Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, just as it is well with your soul.”

    Liberation Theology Reflection:
    Spiritual well-being cannot be separated from bodily health and justice. The writer prays for Gaius’s holistic wellness. In liberation theology, salvation is not merely future-tense or otherworldly—it is embodied liberation here and now. Health, dignity, safety—these are all signs of the Kingdom.

    Franciscan View:
    Francis, who kissed the leper and called even Sister Death his friend, recognized no separation between body and spirit, soul and society. May we too honor that our activism and prayer must nourish both body and soul.


    3 John 1:3–4 — “I was overjoyed when some of the friends arrived and testified to your faithfulness to the truth… I have no greater joy than this, to hear that my children are walking in the truth.”

    Clarean Vision:
    Clare walked in truth not by wielding power but through contemplative solidarity, forming a community rooted in simplicity and mutual care. The joy in this passage reflects a mentor’s delight not in control, but in watching others blossom freely in Christ.

    Universalist Insight:
    The writer celebrates—not coerces. This is not the joy of conversion by fear, but of freely walking in divine truth. It reflects the universalist belief that God’s Spirit draws all into truth—not by force, but through joy and love.


    3 John 1:5–8 — “Beloved, you do faithfully whatever you do for the friends, even though they are strangers to you… They have testified to your love before the church.”

    Franciscan Hospitality:
    Gaius is praised for offering hospitality to traveling Christians—those without status or security. Just as Francis opened his arms to lepers and outcasts, Gaius’s hospitality becomes a holy act of resistance against a gatekept religion.

    Queer and Trans Application:
    In today’s world, many queer Christians are still “strangers” to the institutional church. Gaius becomes a model for LGBTQ+ allies and clergy: open your doors, share your resources, and protect the vulnerable—even when others refuse.


    3 John 1:9–10 — “I have written something to the church; but Diotrephes, who likes to put himself first, does not acknowledge our authority… he refuses to welcome the friends.”

    Liberation Lens:
    Here we see early church power struggles. Diotrephes is portrayed as authoritarian, exclusive, and controlling—hoarding authority and rejecting outsiders. Liberation theology reminds us that the Spirit works through the oppressed, not the self-appointed gatekeepers.

    Franciscan Reversal:
    Diotrephes is everything Francis rejected: prideful, possessive, hierarchical. True leadership in the Franciscan Clarean way is humble, communal, and welcoming—especially to the marginalized. Let us beware when religion becomes a mechanism of exclusion rather than incarnation.


    3 John 1:11 — “Beloved, do not imitate what is evil but imitate what is good. Whoever does good is from God; whoever does evil has not seen God.”

    Universalist Theology:
    This verse emphasizes action over ideology. Doing good—not believing “correctly”—is the fruit of true divine relationship. Universalism affirms that God is known through acts of love, not doctrinal allegiance.

    Clarean Wisdom:
    Clare modeled spiritual discernment through gentle imitation of Christ. Her life was a constant “yes” to the good, even amid suffering and exclusion. We are invited to discern with our hearts and live in loving action.


    3 John 1:12 — “Everyone has testified favorably about Demetrius, and so has the truth itself.”

    Queer Affirmation:
    Demetrius is publicly affirmed by “truth itself.” In a world where queer and trans people are often slandered, this verse speaks of the Spirit’s witness beyond gossip or institutional judgment. Let the fruit of our lives—joy, justice, peace—testify for us.

    Franciscan Community Practice:
    Testimony here is communal. Reputation is built in relationship, not isolation. Demetrius’s life is his gospel. In the Franciscan Clarean way, we too are called to preach with our lives.


    3 John 1:13–15 — “I have much to write to you… Peace to you. The friends send you greetings. Greet the friends there, each by name.”

    Sacred Belonging:
    This ending breathes the air of intimacy, community, and connection. Each friend is greeted by name—no one forgotten, no one excluded. This is the heart of Franciscan community: a shared table where every name is sacred.

    Queer Liturgical Insight:
    Liturgies of resistance begin in relationships. This final greeting invites us to build networks of radical welcome, calling each other beloved, blessing one another in peace, and creating spiritual homes outside systems of exclusion.


    Final Reflections for the Franciscan Clarean Way

    3 John is not just a letter—it is a witness to what church can be.

    • A church where love is stronger than hierarchy.
    • A church where hospitality overrides doctrinal purity tests.
    • A church where queer, poor, and exiled bodies are not just tolerated—but embraced as holy friends.

    Let us, like Gaius, offer welcome.
    Let us, like Francis and Clare, renounce control for kinship.
    Let us, like the elder, speak truth in love.
    Let us, like Christ, make room at the table for every child of God.

    Amen and Amen.

  • Contending for Love: A Progressive Commentary on the Epistle of Jude

    ✨ Contending for Love: A Progressive Commentary on the Epistle of Jude

    By Sister Abigail Hester, OFC
    For the Order of Franciscan Clareans


    📖 Introduction

    The Epistle of Jude, a brief and often overlooked letter near the end of the New Testament, is usually remembered for its fiery denunciations of false teachers and its use of apocalyptic imagery. Historically, it has been weaponized by some to accuse those who do not conform to rigid religious norms—including LGBTQIA+ Christians—of moral decay. But when we read Jude through the lenses of liberation, universal love, and radical inclusion, a different message emerges: a call to remain grounded in love, community, and the mercy of God in the face of division and injustice.


    📚 Verses 1–2: A Greeting of Belovedness

    “To those who are called, who are beloved in God the Father and kept safe for Jesus Christ: May mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance.”

    Jude opens with a powerful affirmation: we are calledbeloved, and kept safe. For queer and trans Christians who have been told they are unwanted by God, this greeting is balm. Jude does not condition God’s love on moral purity or religious conformity—it is freely given, abundant, overflowing.

    From a Franciscan Clarean perspective, we affirm that each person bears the image of Christ. Just as Francis kissed the leper and Clare offered sanctuary to her sisters, we are called to recognize every soul—especially the marginalized—as beloved and held safely in divine love.


    🕊️ Verses 3–4: Contending for the Faith — Not Weaponizing It

    “I find it necessary to write and appeal to you to contend for the faith… For certain intruders have stolen in among you… perverting the grace of our God into licentiousness and denying our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ.”

    These verses are often used to justify boundary policing in the Church—especially of LGBTQIA+ people. But what does it really mean to “contend for the faith”?

    In liberation theology, “faith” is not static doctrine but the living praxis of love and justice. To contend for the faith is not to gatekeep—it is to resist empire, exclusion, and exploitation. The “intruders” Jude refers to may be understood in our time as those who corrupt the gospel of grace to uphold domination, be it through nationalism, white supremacy, transphobia, or patriarchy.

    Queer theologians remind us: true heresy is not queerness—it is the denial of God’s image in our diversity.


    🔥 Verses 5–16: Warnings Through Apocalyptic Midrash

    Jude draws from Jewish apocalyptic traditions—stories of fallen angels, Sodom, Cain, and Balaam. These warnings can seem harsh and otherworldly, but read through a Franciscan lens, they serve not to condemn but to call attention to systems of exploitation and injustice.

    Sodom and Queer Misreadings

    Verse 7 refers to Sodom—often misused as a clobber passage.

    “Sodom and Gomorrah…indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural lust.”

    Yet the biblical witness in Ezekiel 16:49 tells us the sin of Sodom was pride, excess, and failure to care for the poor and needy. In other words: the sin of empire, not same-gender love.

    Liberation and queer theologies insist: we must reclaim these texts from harmful misuse. The cities of Sodom and Gomorrah are warnings against violence and inhospitality—especially toward strangers and the vulnerable. The real “unnatural” sin is the dehumanization of queer bodies, not their existence.


    🌱 Verses 17–23: Building Up in Love

    “But you, beloved, build yourselves up on your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God…”

    Here, Jude shifts tone: from judgment to nurture. These verses are the heart of the letter for progressive Christians.

    • Pray in the Spirit: not in fear, but in intimacy with the divine presence that speaks through all people—especially the silenced.
    • Keep in the love of God: Not by conformity, but by radical compassion and justice.
    • Show mercy: Even to those who doubt, to those caught in fear and judgment. Liberation theology reminds us that the work of justice includes healing both the oppressed and the oppressor.

    This is a call to queer sanctity—to form communities that are fierce in love, honest in lament, and faithful to the Spirit of God who dances beyond boundaries.


    🌈 Verse 22–23: Mercy that Rescues

    “And have mercy on some who are wavering; save others by snatching them out of the fire; and have mercy on still others with fear…”

    These verses are often read with anxiety. But what if “snatching from fire” means liberating people from the burning structures of empire? The fires we face today are not divine punishment but the consequences of greed, racism, transphobia, and ecological destruction.

    The queer and trans community has often been placed in this fire—not by God, but by a Church complicit in violence. We, as Franciscan Clareans, are called to rescue each other with mercy, not judgment.


    🌟 Verses 24–25: A Universal Benediction

    “Now to the One who is able to keep you from falling and to present you without blemish… to the only God… be glory…”

    Jude closes not with threat but praise. This God is not the condemner but the sustainer. The One who presents us without blemish is not fixated on our past, but devoted to our healing and wholeness.

    This is liberal Christian universalism at its core: God will not lose any of us. There is no soul too queer, no heart too wounded, no life too far gone. All are drawn into the light of mercy.


    🎨 Devotional Reflection

    Art Prompt: Paint a flame that does not burn but heals. Around it are people of all genders, races, and orientations—dancing, embraced, loved.

    Liturgical Action: Light a candle for each group harmed by religious exclusion (LGBTQIA+ people, women, the disabled, racial minorities, the poor). Offer this prayer:
    “God of all mercy, we kindle your light where others brought fire to destroy. Make us healers, not gatekeepers. Make us vessels of your inclusive flame.”


    🕊️ Final Thoughts for the Order of Franciscan Clareans

    As followers of St. Francis and St. Clare, we are not afraid of the fire—we transform it. We reclaim Jude not as a letter of condemnation, but as a call to courageous compassion. We contend for the faith not by excluding others, but by embracing the radical, boundary-breaking love of Christ.

    May we, too, be kept in love, held in mercy, and unafraid to dance at the margins where Christ still walks.

  • Healing Waters: The Ancient and Everlasting Gift of Renewal

    From the dawn of civilization, water has been revered not only as a source of life but also as a sacred agent of healing. Across centuries and cultures, the practice of using water therapeutically has flowed like a stream through human history—cleansing, restoring, and renewing body and spirit alike.

    A History Written in Water

    Long before the advent of modern medicine, ancient civilizations intuitively recognized the power of water. Egyptian and Greek physicians used hydrotherapy to relieve pain and stimulate circulation. Even before the time of Hippocrates—the so-called “Father of Medicine”—healers turned to springs, baths, and rituals of immersion to restore balance in the body. Hippocrates himself, in the 4th century BCE, famously recommended water treatments for a variety of ailments, from fever to fatigue.

    In the 18th century, John Wesley, the great revivalist and founder of the Methodist movement, penned Primitive Physick, a little book of natural remedies grounded in Christian piety and practical wisdom. Among his many recommendations was the regular and intentional use of water for maintaining health and treating disease. For Wesley, the body was a temple of the Holy Spirit, and water—a gift from God—was to be received with gratitude and used with care.

    Prophets of the Healing Stream

    As the centuries progressed, a river of thinkers and practitioners carried forward the legacy of water healing. Father Sebastian Kneipp, a 19th-century Bavarian priest, developed a system of hydrotherapy rooted in his personal recovery from tuberculosis using cold water immersion, herbs, and exercise. His work sparked a European naturopathic revival, influencing others like Dr. Winternitz of Vienna and Dr. John Harvey Kellogg of Battle Creek Sanitarium—each integrating water therapy into larger health regimens.

    Dr. Kellogg, in particular, combined hydrotherapy with vegetarianism, exercise, and spiritual discipline, laying the groundwork for many of today’s holistic health movements. Dr. Benedict Lust, the father of American naturopathy, further expanded Kneipp’s principles in the United States.

    The 20th century saw passionate voices like Dr. Paul C. Bragg, Dr. N.W. Walker, and Allen E. Banik championing the curative powers of water. Walker, author of Colon Health, emphasized internal cleansing through water-rich foods and juicing. Banik, an optometrist, praised the purity of natural water as essential for vision, vitality, and overall well-being. These health advocates drew on both science and intuition, echoing the wisdom of yogis such as Yogi Ramacharaka, who taught about the pranic (life-force) benefits of water in spiritual healing.

    Water as Sacred, Healing, and Free

    The common thread among these many voices? Water is accessible, elemental, and universal. It doesn’t require a prescription, a co-pay, or a fancy label. It is the birthright of all creation—a holy sacrament in liquid form.

    For us in the Franciscan Clarean tradition, this rings especially true. Saint Francis of Assisi called water “sister,” singing her praises in his Canticle of the Creatures:

    “Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water, who is very useful and humble and precious and chaste.”

    Water is humble. It meets us where we are—whether in a river, a teacup, or a warm cloth on a fevered brow. It is precious and chaste, unpretentious and healing. Its simplicity invites us to slow down, cleanse, and begin again.

    Embracing the Waters of Renewal

    Today, amidst chronic illness, environmental stress, and an often over-medicated society, a return to the healing traditions of water may be one of the most revolutionary acts of all. Cold compresses, warm baths, internal cleansing, herbal infusions, and prayerful immersion can serve as gentle tools of restoration.

    Water therapy isn’t a magic cure—it’s a sacred rhythm. It invites us to cooperate with the natural healing processes already at work in our bodies. It beckons us to live more simply, more attentively, and more in tune with the divine wisdom embedded in creation itself.

    So let us return to the waters. Let us drink deeply, bathe reverently, and give thanks for the life-giving stream that flows from the heart of God, through the earth, and into our bodies—cleansing, renewing, and reminding us of who we are: beloved, embodied, and worthy of healing.

  • 📖 Unclobbered & Unbothered: A Queer Bible Study for the Righteously Fabulous


    By Sister Abigail Hester, OFC
    A Franciscan Clarean Defense of LGBTQIA+ People in the Face of Weaponized Scripture


    💥 Introduction: Holy Misinterpretation, Batman!

    Let’s get one thing straight — or rather, let’s get everything delightfully queer: the Bible is not a homophobic book. It has been read that way by empire, patriarchy, and bigots with bad haircuts and worse hermeneutics. But when we read the text through the lens of liberation, context, and queerness, the clobber passages turn into… well, laughable.

    This study will walk us through the so-called “clobber texts,” clap back with history, context, theology, and a wink of divine sass. Because honey — we weren’t made to sit silently while folks misuse the Word to harm the very ones Christ came to liberate.


    📜 The “Clobber Passages” in Question

    These are the six classic “texts of terror” often flung like theological dodgeballs at queer folks:

    1. Genesis 19 – Sodom and Gomorrah
    2. Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13 – “Man shall not lie with man…”
    3. Romans 1:26–27 – “Shameful lusts”
    4. 1 Corinthians 6:9–10 – “The effeminate” and “homosexuals”
    5. 1 Timothy 1:9–10 – “Perverts” or “sodomites”
    6. Jude 1:7 – Sexual immorality of Sodom again

    Let’s unclobber these one by one.


    1. 💣 Genesis 19: Sodom and Gomorrah

    Clobber claim: God destroyed Sodom for gay sex.

    Response: God destroyed Sodom for rape, violence, and inhospitality — not Pride floats and drag brunches.

    “Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: she was arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.” – Ezekiel 16:49

    🎯 Boom. That’s the Bible clapping back at bad theology.

    The real sin: Abuse of power, exploitation, and cruelty to strangers. In other words, homophobia, not homosexuality, is the Sodomite sin.

    Queer note: If anything, Genesis 19 is a call to defend the vulnerable — especially travelers, the gender-nonconforming, and the powerless. Sounds like a call to queer hospitality!


    2. 🧀 Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13

    “You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.”

    Clobber claim: Being gay is an abomination.

    Response: So is eating shrimp, wearing polyester, and planting two seeds in one field (see Leviticus 11:10, 19:19). But you don’t see them picketing Red Lobster, do you?

    📘 Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan remind us: Leviticus is a purity code, not a moral absolute. It was written for ritual cleanliness, not eternal judgment.

    Abomination (Hebrew: toevah) means “ritually impure,” not “eternally condemned.” It was about Israel’s identity, not your date to prom.

    Queer theology twist: Jesus broke the purity codes constantly — touching lepers, eating with sinners, and healing on the Sabbath. If you’re breaking purity rules to love better, you’re doing it right.


    3. 🌀 Romans 1:26–27

    “God gave them up to shameful lusts… men committing shameless acts with men…”

    Clobber claim: Paul condemns homosexuality.

    Response: Paul condemns exploitative, idolatrous, excessive lust, not loving same-sex relationships.

    This is Paul throwing shade at Roman orgies and temple prostitution, not your marriage license.

    🧠 Scholar alert! Beverly Roberts Gaventa and Daniel Helminiak point out that Romans 1 describes unnatural acts — but Paul isn’t defining what’s natural in your biology. He’s critiquing excessive Greco-Roman patriarchal sexual dominance.

    Patrick Cheng says this passage is about imperial excess, not queer tenderness. Paul didn’t know about modern sexual orientation. To read that back into the text is like blaming Jesus for Twitter.

    Fun fact: In Greek, “unnatural” (para physin) is also used to describe God’s actions (Romans 11:24). So clearly, “unnatural” ≠ evil. Sometimes divine love is unnatural — especially when it breaks the world’s rules.


    4. 🎭 1 Corinthians 6:9–10

    “Neither the sexually immoral… nor men who have sex with men…”

    Clobber claim: Gays go to hell.

    Response: The Greek words used here are:

    • Malakoi – “soft ones,” often referring to effeminate men or passive partners (but also used for luxury pillows).
    • Arsenokoitai – a bizarre compound word Paul seems to invent, literally “man-bedders.”

    🧑‍🏫 John Boswell and Dale Martin show us: we don’t really know what arsenokoitai means. It shows up almost nowhere else in ancient Greek literature. Could mean exploiters. Could mean temple pimps. Could mean… tax collectors for all we know.

    So unless you’ve built an entire theology on mistranslating ancient Greek and ignoring love, maybe sit this one out, clobber crowd.


    5. 🪓 1 Timothy 1:9–10

    “The law is laid down… for the unholy and sinful, for those who kill their fathers or mothers, for murderers, the sexually immoral, men who practice homosexuality…”

    Clobber claim: The New Testament condemns homosexuality.

    Response: Again, we’re dealing with that strange word arsenokoitai — not “gay people” in modern terms. There’s zero reason to believe Paul had anything in mind resembling today’s same-sex relationships built on mutual love, covenant, and faithfulness.

    Also — let’s talk context. This list is like Paul’s version of a “bad people” rap sheet, mixing thieves, liars, and… apparently queer folks if we mistranslate? Not convincing.

    Truth bomb: Love rooted in justice, mutuality, and consent is never what Paul condemns. What’s condemned is exploitation, domination, and violence. And that applies to all sexualities.


    6. 🔥 Jude 1:7

    “Sodom and Gomorrah… indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural lust.”

    Clobber claim: LGBTQ people are like the people of Sodom — lustful and unnatural.

    Response: What’s “unnatural” to empire often looks like God’s justice breaking through. If you’ve ever loved someone in a way the world told you was wrong — welcome to the revolution.

    Marcella Althaus-Reid calls this “indecent theology” — reclaiming the power of the body, of erotic love, of pleasure, and queerness as sacred, not sinful.

    So if loving queerly is unnatural, then so is grace. And I, for one, am living for both.


    ✊ Holy Takeaways: What Jesus Would Say

    • Jesus never said a word against LGBTQIA+ people.
    • He did say a lot against religious hypocrites.
    • He did say love your neighbor. And honey, that includes your queer neighbor — and yourself.

    🧼 Clobber texts = cherry-picked, context-ignoring, empire-approved weaponry.
    💖 Queer love = holy, sacred, Christ-reflecting.


    💅 Closing Benediction (Drag Mass Style)

    May your love be louder than their hate.
    May your queerness be too fabulous to ignore.
    May your faith be too fierce to silence.
    And may your theology leave no clobber passage unchallenged.

    Go in peace, beloveds. And throw glitter in the face of bad exegesis.