Strap in, let’s talk about queer Christian trauma (a thread)
For many in our community, the church is not safe. Pastors are not safe. I don’t mean “not comfortable”, I mean “dangerous”. They jeopardise mental health, physical health, and spiritual well-being.
For safety’s sake, sometimes we queer Christians are forced to step away. To heal. To pray. To re-consider if staying in this church is actually worth it (spoiler, it’s often not).
And in this, as we step out, queer ppl are continually framed as the problem - the ones who walked away, gave up, caved in, capitulated. Not only do we bear the shame of our “broken” desires, but now also the guilt of “abandoning” the faith communities we love.
Unwilling collateral of a “culture war” we never asked to be part of, we are the unwitting wounded. Tired, bleeding, abandoned. Our hearts race with fear at the thought of entering a church building.
Our mind shuts down (dissociation we call it) in the presence of an old friend. Our hands shake as we attempt to pray. Our bodies fight us as we “stand to worship”, recognising and responding to danger and preparing us to fight or flee.
Our sense of worth shatters as loved ones become ignorant of the abuse they can perpetrate. Our sense of God distorted by the weaponising of scripture against us. We’ve internalised messages of hate, of disgust, of our own depravity.
Sound familiar? It’s all too common and it’s happening in our churches, our Sunday schools, youth groups and colleges. This is hardly the exception to the norm - we’re describing the status quo here. Which is why we need a path to change, and thankfully such a path exists.
If you listen to us, to queer Christians, actually listen, you will discover a remarkable depth of rich spirituality and faith. Here in the wilderness, we have discovered a God who is genuinely faithful, who stands with the outcast and who welcomes the stranger.
Our prayers are imbued with hurt AND hope (like Jesus). Our worship weaves together lament AND praise (like the Psalms). Our desire for this world is one of knowing Jesus, knowing justice, knowing love.
And so, knowing what we bring to the table, we have begun our own journey to healing. We are resilient. We are proud of our voices. We are far stronger than you dreamed possible, and we have a far more beautiful message of life and hope.
The church is a better place because you are here, queer Christian sibling. And while you may be in the grips of darkness, we trust together that there are better days ahead as we continue our holy work of living, loving and seeking Jesus together.
If you have messages of hope, calls for prayer, reasons for joy or cause for lament, we would love to hear them and walk with you. Feel free to comment or get in touch.