Pride & Prejudice

I came out five years ago today. 

In many ways, the world feels more dangerous for people like me now than it was five years ago.

Bathroom bills, “don’t say gay'' hysterics, pundits calling for the eradication of transgenderism from public life, politicians making hay by scapegoating LGBTQ+ people at every opportunity, queer adults being called “groomers” and “pedophiles” for simply living their lives in public, or for no reason at all. Incidentally, you should check in with your gay, bi, and (especially) trans friends; they’re very likely exhausted. I know I am.

I left vocational ministry because I knew it would be neither safe nor possible for an out queer man like myself to make a living in that world, especially in Springfield, Oregon. Not because I ever lost my drive or doubted my calling, but because I knew that my brothers and sisters in faith would never allow for the possibility. That I would be seen as dangerous, even predatory, for simply wanting to work with kids, despite the fact that I have never, and would never, hurt or exploit a child. LGBTQ+ people in our country, especially within Christian circles, are treated as though they somehow pose a greater threat to children, when statistically the opposite is true. Can youth pastors be predators? The numbers and news suggest they often are, but overwhelmingly the faith leaders caught exploiting and abusing children are heterosexual, “upstanding,” “family men.”

The plain fact of the matter is that statistically, youth pastors represent a much more significant threat to your children than drag queens do. Does this mean that every youth pastor is dangerous? Obviously not. I met and worked alongside many noble, Christ-following, people-honoring youth pastors during my years in ministry. I tried my best to be one! My point is only that those raising alarms over the danger drag queens and trans people pose to children are overlooking the facts in favor of feeding their fear. And by doing so, they are stoking flames of intolerance and making our world less safe for people who are different. 

This sort of scapegoating is only Christian insomuch as Christians seem quite good at it. But is it Christ-like? Not if the Gospels are to be believed. In fact, the Jesus of the Gospels stood in radical solidarity with those harassed and harangued by the religious authorities of his day. And I believe in my heart that the risen and living Christ whom I serve does the same today. 

Then there is all this noise around pride. Conservative Christians decry LGBTQ+ people for giving into sinful pride, simply because queer activism often self-identifies with the term “pride.” This is, of course, self-evidently disingenuous, since English speakers obviously employ the term “pride” in multiple distinct ways. After all, would we call it sinful to be proud of one’s children for excelling in school? Is it sinful to take pride in one’s labor? Of course not. If we were being honest, we would all recognize that when LGBTQ+ people talk about pride, we mean loving ourselves and each other, appreciating our efforts and celebrating our value over and against the hateful voices that continue to berate and devalue us. Our pride is just love by another word.

On the other hand, it may actually be homophobic Christians who are guilty of the sort of pride condemned in Scripture.

After all, to be truly, sinfully proud is to usurp the authority of God, to take God’s place, and this is precisely what homophobic Christians do when they sit in judgment over others. Since it is ultimately God’s job to judge, they are the ones embodying the sin of pride by taking matters into their own hands.

May God have mercy on their souls (I suspect He will; He’s just like that).

So after years of agonizing, storming,and struggling with God’s calling on my life despite my inconvenient orientation, I finally decided to pivot away from ministry and toward a career in education. Instead of forcing my way back into the Evangelical spaces which no longer want me, I opted instead to manifest my passion for building up young people by becoming a high school counselor. I even went BACK to graduate school for a SECOND Master’s degree, because I will not be deterred from God’s call on my life by hateful and ignorant voices. I will continue my work of supporting young people through traumatic experiences and precarious life circumstances, albeit now within the milieu of public education.

The trouble is, the homophobic bigotry of American Evangelical Christianity has begun spilling over into my new chosen field. Indeed, the world of education seems to be the new frontline for the culture war, and it grieves me to see the place where I sought refuge become similarly embattled. Explicitly anti-LGBTQ+ legislation is being proposed in most US states, including Oregon, and many such laws specifically target what sort of LGBTQ+ awareness is allowed within schools. For a queer educator, and a refugee from American Evangelicalism, it is a scary place to be. A state of emergency, you might say.

What helps is that no part of me wonders anymore whether God loves me. I know it.

Sure, I don’t need two degrees in Christian theology to know that God loves me for who I am, but it doesn’t hurt. Because when hostile voices come at me with condemnation, I simply know better.

Still, it does take a toll. Some days, especially days following acts of public violence against my LGBTQ+ kin, it’s hard to get out of bed. And there are many, especially young people, who believe the lies of hateful men and lose confidence in God’s love for them, who get caught in the crossfire of this ridiculous, (mostly) one-sided war between gays and Christians. I worry about them.

For them, and even for the politicians and hatemongers who wish for my downfall, the best I can do is pray. I trust in God’s goodness and ultimate desire for our flourishing. But I’m also very tired.

Hard to celebrate pride when you’re surrounded by prejudice.