The Heretic Interfaith Ministry Network, or HIMN (pronounced like "hymn"), is a fully volunteer project of interfaith clergy, laypeople, and everyday activists who want to cultivate a community of hope for marginalized communities. It's part resource list and part faith community. We're not associated with any specific religion, denomination, or church. Our in-person work is currently limited to Southern Michigan/Northern Ohio, but our online work is open to all.
Throughout history, we have seen that anyone who resists power, especially religious power, is labeled as heretical in their time. Both Jesus and Muhammed were called heretics - Jesus was executed for blasphemy. The Torah is filled with stories of prophets being imprisoned and ostracized for their supposedly heretical views. Even our modern prophets, like Martin Luthor King Jr. and Malcolm X, were accused of religious heresy. Every woman and person of color burned at the stake for witchcraft was considered heretical.
So, if we're going to get called heretics anyway, we embrace it. This kind of "heresy" is needed: Many have been completely alienated from faith because they have been met with only cruelty, hypocrisy, and exclusion from religious institutions. This isn't acceptable. We have to set our faith apart, loudly and boldly, starting with our name and extending to every part of our mission. We have to preach unconditional love and inclusion as loudly as others preach the opposite.
Initially HIMN planned to use a dove to express our want for peace and the nature of hope to soar. However, like the word "Christian" itself, many symbols of the Christian and other faiths have been coopted by people who use those symbols to spread hurt and fear. Doves are unfortunately one of those coopted symbols.
We chose a crow the same way we chose the name "heretic": it sets us apart as doing something different. More than that, though, we felt that crows captured the essence of a heretic: they're clever, resourceful, highly adaptive, and deeply community oriented, to the point that they tend for the sick and injured members of their flock. They even have the ability to organize! Through working together, they've been known to fend off larger, stronger animals.
HIMN started largely as the passion project of R, a trans man wrestling with his dual identities as a queer activist and an aspiring clergy member. He created HIMN as a sanctuary for other people of faith with complex identities. This is his story:
I grew up in a church with all the worst parts of modern Christianity. I was sickened by it all: the racism, sexism, and homophobia, the hatred of the poor and disabled, the use of God to justify war, and the general hypocrisy. When I was kicked out of the church in my teens, I spent the next decade trying to convince myself I was an atheist... unsuccessfully. Despite everything, I couldn't get shake this feeling that there was inherent holiness in the universe. I explored everything from Buddhism to Wicca then finally revisiting Christianity, trying to figure out where this tug toward divinity was coming from.
At the same time, though, I was discovering my larger identity. I'm queer. I'm trans. My punk-rock phase never ended: I still love my tattoos, piercings, patch jackets, and loud music. I swear like a sailor. I'm a massive nerd. I'm sex- and body-positive. I've lived with depression and chronic pain. I have a therapist. I deeply believe that people shouldn't be shamed for their clothing, hobbies, diagnoses or disabilities, relationship styles, and sexual preferences. I also realized that faith is incredibly important to me - just in my own, deconstructed way.
I was incredibly happy with who I grew up to be. However, comparing myself to what's acceptable in churches, temples, and mosques, I came to a very painful conclusion: I was pretty sure that God loved me just as I was, but organized religion found me lacking. I would never be "good" or "devout" in their eyes, and I absolutely wouldn't be welcome in any faith community I'd ever heard of. I resigned myself to the reality that my faith journey would be very lonely.
Then I stumbled into a group of theological activists in my mid-20s. It was a small world of diverse, beautiful, brilliant voices engaging with faith from a perspective of wonder and curiosity, all deeply committed to ending oppression. I felt holiness while dreaming of a better world alongside them. It felt like a homecoming. But even while my life was being changed, I knew that my experience was the minority: the most common experience with faith today is still steeped in fear, oppression, and exclusion.
I want to change that. I've committed myself to becoming clergy so I can pass on the gift that has been extended to me.
That's where HIMN started - that desire. I've been asked many times to start a church, but I haven't felt ready. I'm afraid that I don't know enough, that I haven't learned enough, that it's not appropriate for me to take on a pastoral role. I still feel this way. But with everything going on in the world, I've realized that I have to do something. HIMN is my something: A sacred space for religious outsiders, stories that reignite your spirit, community in a time of isolation, courage to act in a time of fear, resources in a time that feels horribly cutthroat, and love. Simple, authentic love.
More than anything, I want HIMN to remind you that there's still hope. I truly believe that there's still more love running through the universe than hate, diversity is still a holy thing to be celebrated, and we can still have a bright future. Look around us: despite everything, life is still persisting. We are still persisting. HIMN is a celebration of our persistence.
No. :)
For a better explanation: We at HIMN know that the Paradox of Tolerance is alive and well, so we keep our space welcoming by removing those who are unwelcoming. We welcome curiosity, discussions, and the exchange of ideas, but we will not prioritize debate over the safety and humanity of others.
Additionally, our community spaces have to be considered 18+ for liability. Until queerness, non-whiteness, and femininity stop being treated as inherently sexual, this is an unfortunate reality that we have to deal with.