Arts & Culture

In the queer, young adult novel She Drives Me Crazy, author Kelly Quindlen employs a couple of my favorite romance tropes: A fake-dating scenario and an enemies-to-lovers story arc. But when I first read the novel a few years back, I was also delighted by all the plotlines and character traits I’d never encountered in a sapphic YA romance: The two main characters — high schoolers Scottie (star of the girls’ basketball team) and Irene (captain of the cheerleading squad) — are both Catholic, and, most significantly, their Catholicism is not in conflict with their sexuality. Both Scottie and Irene’s parents are affirming; their queerness is a nonissue for their families and their church.

As a dedicated sports fan, I am extremely excited to watch this year’s lineup of the 2024 Summer Olympics, starting in Paris on Friday, July 26. The U.S. women’s basketball team is competing for their 8th consecutive gold medal; Simone Biles may just win it all — again; and though I know nothing of the sport, I am always excited to catch a fencing bout. However, as a Christian, I am also paying close attention to the ways in which religion is being utilized — for good and for bad — at this year’s Olympic Games.

I MISSED SEVERAL church services growing up, but I rarely missed quarterly potluck Sundays. As Jesus modeled through his ministry and miracles, free food is an essential motivator. But alas, not all free food is created equal. So here is my definitive ranking of church potluck staples — the good, the bad, and the divisive. Because this is a Christian ranking, we’ll go in ascending order: The first shall be last.

7. Lemon Sugar Water

Don’t trust an aluminum container labeled “lemonade,” especially if it’s beside the dispenser of “coffee,” aka “coffee-flavored water” (I said what I said). The deacons thought two packets of Country Time Lemonade mix could multiply for the masses, but it is a diluted miracle, at best.

6. Stone Soup

I loved the parable the first time Pastor Jerry shared it during the children’s sermon: A stranger comes to town with an empty pot, throws in some stones, and stirs it with such prolonged passion that neighbors begin showing up, adding carrots, potatoes, and more until the soup is big enough to feed the whole town. A good lesson on how to trick strangers into being hospitable. But you can’t keep bringing a vat of stones to the potluck, Jerry. It’s a choking hazard, and the rocks look suspiciously like our parking lot gravel.

MARTYRS HAVE IT easy, thinks Cyrus Shams, the 20-something protagonist of Kaveh Akbar’s debut novel. “Why should the Prophet Muhammad get a whole visit from an archangel? Why should Saul get to see the literal light of heaven on the road to Damascus?” At least they had clarity and purpose, Cyrus reasons.

In Akbar’s Martyr!, Cyrus, a first-generation Iranian immigrant, is an aspiring poet and martyr. His problem, he thinks, is that he doesn’t know what to die for.

Cyrus’ mother Roya was killed when she was a passenger on a jet that was shot down by a U.S. warship (inspired by the real-life downing of Iran Air Flight 655). Her death leaves a gaping wound in the Shams family: Cyrus is haunted by survivor guilt and his father self-medicates with alcohol. Martyr! is in part a meditation on the inherited weight of history and grief.

This burden seems particularly true for immigrants in the U.S. — or anyone who carries the weight of multiple identities. Sociologist and activist W.E.B. Du Bois wrote about the “double consciousness” of Black Americans, who have historically carried within themselves at minimum two narratives: the American dream as well as the nightmare.

 I REJOICED WHEN the cicadas emerged in spring of this year. My family moved to Georgia 13 years ago, missing the periodical cicadas here by a few months. This year, trillions of cicadas from two different broods emerged across 17 U.S. states. It was the first time since 1803 that those broods’ 17- and 13-year cycles were in sync. Some see them as nuisances or pests. I marvel at them. Before this year, I hadn’t heard the distinct song of Magicicada trecidem, a member of the Great Southern Brood whose droning wail prompted worried citizens in South Carolina to call the police on male cicadas for their lovesick racket. Some days I heard the constant blare as a lament for all the wickedness in the world; other times I took it as a call to prayer. Maybe that is what prayer is: bemoaning the horrors and tuning into a God who cares about everything from nations to Magicicada—and listening to a God who cries with us.

IN THE CLOSING scenes of Marvel’s original Guardians of the Galaxy, we find our heroes in a tight spot. The group — escaped science experiment Rocket Racoon, giant sentient tree Groot, assassin Gamora, ex-convict Drax, and mercenary Peter Quill — have been grudgingly working together to protect a powerful artifact from falling into the wrong hands. Because they’ve each been pursuing their own agendas instead of working together, they are close to failure. It’s up to Quill (Chris Pratt), to convince them to start working as a team.

“I look around at us, and you know what I see?” he asks them. “Losers.” Noting their incredulous faces, Quill qualifies, “I mean, like, folks who have lost stuff.” He’s right; each of these tentative allies have experienced loss, trauma, and unresolved grief that taught them not to trust others.

AUNJANUE ELLIS-TAYLOR, known for such roles as Hippolyta Freeman in the HBO series Lovecraft Country and Mama in The Color Purple (2023), approaches her acting as an artisan, searching for the right tools with which to craft her characters, she told Sojourners’ assistant editor Josina Guess this spring. Two recent films — Origin (2023) and Exhibiting Forgiveness (2024) — feature powerful performances by Ellis-Taylor and tap into her own yearning for a world in which justice and truth prevail.

Origin (written, produced, and directed by Ava DuVernay) is a biographical drama inspired by Pulitzer-winning journalist Isabel Wilkerson’s process of writing Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents (2020). The film depicts a quest for the origins of why we separate ourselves from one another, even though it destroys us physically, spiritually, and politically. For her moving performance as Wilkerson, Ellis-Taylor traveled to Germany and India, tracing Wilkerson’s observations about the connected histories between Nazism, the caste system, and racism in the United States — deepening our understanding of these bitter human wounds.

Exhibiting Forgiveness is an autobiographical film written and directed by artist Titus Kaphar, whose process-oriented works on canvas, sculpture, and film reveal the layered reality between history and the present. In Exhibiting Forgiveness, an artist named Tarrell experiences rising success while haunted by flashbacks of a childhood riddled with addiction and family violence. Ellis-Taylor plays Joyce, the artist’s mother, who begs her son to forgive because “it’s what the Bible says.”

Both films invite viewers to wrestle with themes of reckoning and healing on a personal and societal level. Ellis-Taylor spoke with Guess about the lessons of Origin in this election year, what she sees as the “burdensome” work of Black forgiveness in the face of ongoing harm, and her commitment to speaking and living into truth, including embracing her queer identity while remaining in the Black church. —The Editors

As I remember it, I was first introduced to Jamie Grace’s career while listening to a Christian radio show in 2011. At the time, she was a 19-year-old college student majoring in child and youth development, recently signed to a major Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) label, and was less than a year away from being nominated for the 2012 Grammy Award for Contemporary Christian Music Song. She was a Black woman in an industry largely made up of white men; she was open about her diagnoses of Tourette syndrome, attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, and obsessive-compulsive disorder at a time when I wasn’t aware of many people who were; and she was a very skilled guitar player, songwriter, and singer. As such, it seemed obvious that she had a bright future in an industry that needed new energy.

Early in his adult life, Lau-Lavie is outed in a news article as gay, prompting him to move from Israel to New York in search of a spiritual life that makes more sense than his Orthodox heritage.