Last week at the College of Congregational Development, we were taught about open-ended interviews with a demonstration. Much to our surprise, Aaron Scott was the interviewee. I didn’t know Aaron would be interviewed, and neither the interviewer nor Aaron knew that members of Christ Church would present. For me, it was the most moving part of the week, to hear parts of Aaron’s story drawn out by questions I never asked him when we met for our newcomer coffee. His story gave me so much hope and joy in our community that I asked him to tell all of us why he is at Christ Church. I hope you are as enthused by this as I was!
– Mother Maria
Hi everyone, my name is Aaron Scott and I’ve been attending Christ Church Tacoma for a few months now. I’m with you on Sundays less often than I’d like (mostly because I travel a bunch for work, and I’m also a single parent to my eight year old son—but I’m there when I can be!). I work for the Presiding Bishop as our denomination’s first-ever Gender Justice Staff Officer, supporting our LGBTQ+ and women’s ministries churchwide. I had the chance to help at the College for Congregational Development this past week, where I got interviewed about why I love coming to Christ Church—and Rev. Maria invited me to share some of that here.
I first came to Christ Church because
- it’s the closest Episcopal church to my house! (I live by Lincoln High School); and
- I wanted to be at a church that was robustly affirming of LGBTQ+ people (having Rev. Maria’s bio on the website and the big Pride flag in the narthex were two important ways of gauging this).
My background is in anti-poverty organizing, so it also helped a lot that the first sermon I heard here was about Gustavo Gutierrez, a founding voice in liberation theology. I was hooked and kept coming when I could.
On All Saints, I brought my son, my sister, and my two nephews along with me—we lost my dad last year, and wanted the kids (ages four, seven and eight) to have a chance to remember their grandpa in ritual and community. While they mostly spent the service reading graphic novels and bickering, it was genuinely special to them to be able to put their pictures of Grandpa Ken up on the altar. Folks were intentional about coming up to us to welcome us, even though we’re kind of raucous as a group—which was another green flag.
I was a menace myself as preacher’s kid, and spent many Sundays of my childhood in trouble and getting sent to sit in the truck during worship. I never got any closer to God that way, and as a direct result swore off religion altogether for years afterwards—so I try to meet my son where he’s at when he’s acting like an average kid in church. Sometimes this means he’s running around in the courtyard, sometimes it means he’s nose deep in a new book series for the whole service, and sometimes he’s in his pajamas. Only God knows where his own spiritual journey will take him, but I do my best to crack open doors open for him where they’d been physically shut on me as a kid.
I felt really lucky that I was able to attend the full marathon of Holy Week services at Christ Church this year, given how rough the world is feeling every day. On Palm Sunday, during the procession, I watched unhoused folks come up to Rev. Donna as we made our way through the neighborhood—she embraced people and knew their names, and that was an important sign of relationship to me. Both baby Jesus and members of my own family have been homeless, so a core part of what I look for in a church is whether the congregation treats poor and unhoused people with dignity, care, and respect. Not just talking the talk from the pulpit, but also walking the walk in the community.
Another key part of my Holy Week experience was that I had been personally struggling a lot with the historic slew of legislative attacks on trans and nonbinary people. I’m transgender, and I spent that Wednesday trying to get several of my documents in order and draft some crisis contingency plans. My anxiety was high, and I was feeling pretty hurt and isolated. But as my mind turned toward Maundy Thursday, my panic started to ease up. Not because the world changed but simply because I remembered that I was, through Christ Church, connected to a communion of saints who have my back.
I’m truly grateful that the Holy Spirit guided my steps to Christ Church, and even in the thick such unsettling times I’m excited to see what sacred work God will this congregation toward.
