I wrote a thread last Monday about my response to some Evangelicals who asked to pray for me that Sunday with the not-so-subtle hint that my being transgender makes me "broken". Unsurprisingly, I got pushback from some conservative folks claiming I'm not a Christian. (thread)
I expected that. It's nothing new. My LGBTQ identity, my politics, even my use of the word "goddamn" are all, apparently, enough evidence for some to exclude me from the Church. And it's part of a long history...
I was also accused of not being a Christian late last summer when I was one of many folks to publicly demand @JoelOsteen reopen his church in Houston for flood victims of Hurricane Harvey. After a group inc. @jordanuhl, myself, and many others organized online, it was reopened.
I've been accused in the past of not being a Christian because I believe there should be a complete separation of Church and State. It is unfair and oppressive to force others in the public square into communion of any sort with God. Also unconstitutional. Also? Un-Christlike.
I've been accused of not being a Christian for various other things: believing women should have a choice over their bodies, that accepting refugees and undocumented immigrants is the only moral choice, that welfare programs are the BEST thing gov't does, affirming Muslims, etc.
But last week was new for one reason: I was accused of not being a Christian by some because I was "too mean" when responding to the group of Evangelicals. I was "rude". I was not responding as Christ would. There was, of course, no mention of their behavior.
All in all, I was think I was rather kind. I gave them the gift of getting inside the head of someone who's on the receiving of their prayers, and I did so without any name-calling. Without raising my voice. And I did pray with them.
You're not angry with me because I was rude to the Evangelicals. You're angry with me because I made them feel vulnerable. And reading that and others' positive reactions to it made you feel vulnerable. And y'all are not comfortable with feeling vulnerable.
In fact, I would say that so much of the Evangelical community exists precisely because it is a culture that provides unearned confidence in a world where white, straight, cisgender folks with conservative views feel increasingly vulnerable due to a changing society.
I would say that virtually all of Trump voters--whom share significant overlap with Evangelicals--are driven by much the same thing: needing validation that the "old way" of the world--white, male, straight, cisgender, traditional--will remain intact. And Trump promised it would.
And the moment that validation is erased and vulnerability sets in, the goalposts get moved. Every single time. The Evangelical culture is not one that prioritizes things being said or done in good faith. It's about comfort and easy answers to questions of discomfort.
Those folks who asked to pray for me that Sunday could have walked right up the street to the White House and prayed for the specific "brokenness" of the person there who thumbs his nose at Christ's example. But they did not. I guarantee they did not. I'd bet my life on it.
They pray for "President Trump, Vice President Pence, and Congress" in that banal way most churches do for elected officials, but they did not pray specifically to address the way in which Trump has attacked the vulnerable, mocked the weak, and stomped on the displaced.
Some 78% of white Evangelicals approve of Trump's job performance. That is the highest sub-demographic among all voters. The strongest support for Trump. Despite the lying and corruption and adultery and racism and all the rest, 78% still approve of him. 
I did not bring this up with the Evangelicals who asked to pray for me. I knew they would not discuss it in good faith and claim that it's all liberal nonsense. But I knew they couldn't argue with a popular verse they'd heard countless times. I knew it would leave a mark.
And I knew in posting that thread last Monday that other Evangelicals would move the goalposts as they always do, right to the cliff of any semblance of reason, the final sputtering excuse of "you're making me uncomfortable with biblical verses, so you're mean".
I was not mean. I was gracious and even loving. Pissed, sure, but loving. "Mean" might have been lobbing some f-bombs. Deep down, they may have wanted that. Easy martyrdom. Validates their worldview. No, you're angry because I won on the terms you set. No apologies here. /thread
