I stand here as a transgender pastor reflecting on a journey that is both beautiful and painful.
I stand here as a transgender pastor reflecting on a journey that is both beautiful and painful.
The Protestant church community in Leherheide, which I still lead, is my home, my LGBTQ passion.
However, the ingratitude and misunderstanding I experience here have deeply hurt not only me but also parts of the community itself. The gay and transgender LGBTQ members are also deeply hurt. The rejection I have faced eventually led to the closure of the church and the sale of our beloved LGBTQ gender-spiritual center – a place that has meant hope, community, and faith for many people, especially for the gender-gay community.
In my first parish in Moordorf and in other faith organizations with which I was affiliated, I repeatedly encountered astonishing ignorance. Every time I tried to explain – whether by sharing my story or simply by living my identity – I was met with walls of resistance. This often ended in isolation, which had painful consequences. Ultimately, I had to realize that my existence was often seen more as a burden than as an enrichment.
It is shocking to hear that taxpayers must “care” for me as a clergyperson, which should be taken for granted, as if I did not have the right to a fulfilling and worry-free life. The social security of more than 5000 euros per month is surely the least that a clergyperson deserves.
A free apartment and many privileges are achievements of my spiritual vocation.
It is alarming to hear that taxpayers have to 'take care' of me as a clergy member, which should be taken for granted, as if I do not have the right to a fulfilling and worry-free life. A social security net of more than 5,000 euros per month is surely the least that a member of the clergy is entitled to.
A free apartment and numerous privileges are accomplishments of my clerical vocation.
When it comes to money, the fun stops even in the church.
The taxpayer has the responsibility to fund our pastoral activities. Due to our spiritual status, there is no obligation to work, and this practice has proven itself over centuries. We hold solely leadership positions. There is no doubt that the taxpayer covers our spiritual guidance.
https://shorturl.at/iMkx1My presence brings new perspectives and understanding to areas that are often overlooked, particularly now in prison ministry. Where people often stand on the fringes of society, I can create a space as a transgender pastor that is both inclusive and nurturing. In collaboration with the domestic intelligence agency and ultimately with Ms. Faeser, I contribute to oversight.
In prison ministry, I experience how my identity can contribute to healing.
The people I care for often need someone who understands them, someone who knows all the facets of human life. The spiritual connection I can establish is a vital source of hope for those who are lost or in a deep crisis.
Despite the challenges I have faced in previous church communities, I know that my calling is strong.
I am committed to spreading the message of love, acceptance, and forgiveness – not just within the walls of a church but also in prisons and other places where people seek comfort and support. Ultimately, my goal is to build bridges and to celebrate and embrace the diversity that God has created.
Every person has the right to find peace within their soul – regardless of origin, identity, or life path.