Angel of the Get Through - Andrea Gibson

Angel of the Get Through - Andrea Gibson

August 13, 1975 – July 14, 2025

Best friend, this is what we do.
We gather each other up.
We say “The cup is half
yours and half mine.”
We say, “Alone is the last place you will ever be.”

On Monday, the world lost one of its fiercest hearts. Andrea Gibson (they/them)—beloved poet, activist, truth-teller—passed away, and the grief that followed was not quiet. It bloomed loudly, openly, in shared poems and stories, in whispered thanks and loud declarations. Queer and trans communities across the globe have gathered to mourn, to honor, and to celebrate the life and legacy of someone who gave voice to what so many of us were never sure we were allowed to say out loud.

For so many of us, Andrea’s words were the first ones that told us we weren’t broken. That being queer, trans, tender-hearted, or feeling deeply wasn’t something to hide, but something holy and something to be cherished. Their poems didn’t flinch from pain. They reached into the pain and pulled out something honest, beautiful, and deeply human.

Andrea taught me, how to live largely and love loudly. Their poetry gave permission to take up space, to feel too much, to cry in public, to dance alone in the kitchen, to love your friends and community so fiercely you can’t help but say it out loud. They showed us that vulnerability is a true kind of strength, and that community is also built through many soft moments. The soft moments that show up through shared meals, laughter, and on quiet nights when someone stays on the phone with you when you need it the most.

We build Beloved Community as daily practice. We text our friends to remind them we love them, or even pick up the phone to call them and let them know. We show up with soup when someone is sick. We forgive each other’s small (and sometimes large) failings. We create art that helps someone feel less alone, that helps our own bodies feel less alone. We organize, we listen, and we build safe havens where people can show up authentically.

We remind ourselves that Beloved Community isn’t a utopia. It’s messy and real and human. It’s built through daily care and collective responsibility. It’s the chosen family that shows up. It’s the refusal to let anyone disappear into loneliness.

So, in honor of our Beloved Andrea, we keep going, not alone, but gathered up saying the cup is half yours, and half mine. Alone is the last place you will ever be.

I say, let us hold each other a little closer. Let us keep building a world where no one has to hide, no one has to go it alone, and love is always loud.

Rest in power, Andrea. Thank you for showing us a way.

With Love,
Pastor Eli

MCCGSL at General Conference

As I sit in the airport awaiting my flight back to St. Louis, I am awash with gratitude for the week of being around our Global body of MCC. 

Soon, we will host a debrief of General Conference with cake and snacks after worship with the great group who was able to come to GC to represent us, but for now, I wanted to write about some of my initial takeaways, especially in light of the chaos of these summer days. 

First, some congratulations! Pastor Eli was approved for ordination! Details for his ordination celebration will be announced soon. Amanda Hellstrom and Eden Johnson completed the Readiness for Vocational Ministry Retreat, which officially welcomes them as in-care of the denomination en route toward ordination. This is a very exciting time of leadership development for MCCGSL! 

During the awards ceremony, Cheryl Stockton received the Network Leader Award for her dedication to being a bridge between the local church and the global MCC, especially in her service as Network Leader for nearly a decade. And I (Rev. Lauren) received the Profiles of Courage Award for my work with Amber McLaughlin, who was executed on January 3, 2023. 

“Come to me, all who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest.” Jesus speaks these words as encouragement to his followers, telling them his yoke is easy and burden is light. On the first night of the conference, we prayed into stones that we were handed on the way in. These stones took on the weight of our burdens — the pain of loss, of change, of injustice, racism, homophobia, fascism… During communion, we placed stones on the altar and were then handed feathers as a reminder that the work of following love is light, and if it’s not, perhaps we are clinging too tightly to things that aren’t ours to control. 

During a time of communal lament, people spoke aloud their prayers, speaking of fear, of being lost, of feeling disenfranchised, of being alone, worrying about the planet, the church, about hatred, about fragility… Then, we took those feelings of being lost and were encouraged by stories of being found in the middle of loss. As it turned out, we were praying these prayers just hours before hundreds of people would be swept away in the flash floods in Texas. We ended our night like those did during the height of the AIDS epidemic, dancing and singing, holding each other and playing. Our grief was not an end, but a beginning, a fuel for our living.

This conference was a reminder to me that we are always in between being lost and found, being full of lament and also full of hope. It was a reminder for me of the importance of MCC, that can contain so many juxtaposing ideas, understandings, and emotions. It was a reminder that in this time of upheaval, grief, and fear that we need each other and - together - we are more than enough. MCCGSL, I am so grateful for you and our community. I am grateful to live in between being lost and found with you, and I trust we will find our way together. 

In Gratitude of Creating Oasis with You, 
Pastor Lauren 

A Love Letter to Anyone Who Needs It This Pride,

Today and everyday, I hope you know that you are worthy of God’s love, abundance, and grace. The way you show up in this world matters: to me, to our church and wider community, and to this world. You carry a spark of the Divine within you. You are not only loved, you are deeply needed.

Let this Pride, be a reminder that Pride is for everyone, gay, straight, cis, trans, bi, ace, or any other identity. Pride is a celebration of the courage it takes to be who you are. Let it be a reminder that we are all called to live more freely, more fully, more truthfully. Your truest self, the one that sometimes hides, the one that’s learning to speak, to sing, and to shine deserves to be known, seen, and embraced. Not just by others, but by you.

Every time you show up as yourself, even when it's hard or scary, you make space for others to do the same. This is sacred work. It is holy and transformative. You are not a disruption, you are a revelation.

Several years ago, on June 1st, the first day of Pride month, I got the word courage tattooed on my wrist. I needed the reminder that I could be afraid and still live as my whole self. That I could be tender and brave at the same time. That I was far from alone, that thousands had come before me walking this same path of authenticity, and thousands will come after. That we are never alone in the struggle to be seen and loved as we are.

This Pride, I hope you embrace the tenderest parts of yourself, the parts that need nurturance, patience, and compassion. Those are the parts that make you most human, most holy. I hope you know how loved you are in this world. How much you matter. How your presence, exactly as you are, makes this world more beautiful and more whole.

I know how hard this world can be, how isolating and how unforgiving. And I also know the unbelievable healing that can come through connection that happens within beloved community. Beloved Community is not a dream that is far out there, but it is something we create together, day by day, in the way we show up for ourselves and one another.

Baba Sheikh Farid once said, “I thought I was alone who suffered. I went on top of the house, and found every house on fire.” So when you feel alone, trust you are not. When you feel like the weight is all on you, know it isn't. When you doubt if you're doing enough, remember that your very existence, your honest presence, is more than enough.

You are God’s light in this world, radiant, needed, and beloved. The world needs your voice. It needs your story. It needs your authenticity. It needs you.

In Love and Solidarity,
Pastor Eli