Show Up for Pride
by Ret David North
I haven’t been to church in nearly a year. I know that most of us haven’t necessarily sat inside of a church in a year or so, but many of us by now are attending virtually or outdoors. I have not clicked a worship link, nor have I “church-shopped” since October of last year; I’ve told this to no one.
For over four years, I was working as social media coordinator for a church that, for most of that time, felt like home. But that feeling gradually went away.
As the sun stays out longer, schools are letting out for summer, and the first of June has come and gone, my friends have asked me how excited I am to celebrate Pride Month. We still won’t be able to attend a Pride festival this year, but the recognition that, at least for a month, it’s a little safer to express ourselves in public should be comforting. My friends have scoffed and scolded me when I admit that Pride Month, for me, comes with spiritual baggage.
When I was 17 years old, I had already spent a few years coming to terms with my identity as a gay transgender man and the closet walls were closing in. My parents and I were fighting on a daily basis about my hatred for dresses and skirts, makeup, heels, and long hair. Tokens of my identity and the community that came with it were creeping in through social media and I found myself deleting browser and app history multiple times a day. I was attending church with my family in addition to everything else we did together, and I felt smothered in fake love. A friend and mentor heard my cries for help and invited me to her church.
One service had me deciding to attend this new church on my own. I threw myself into multiple callings at this church and ended up taking over social media and website management for them. In my mind, I could make myself whole by throwing myself at God through callings and borderline excessive church attendance, no matter what any other stranger thought of me. I thought, “If I’m doing everything right by God, nothing anyone could do will hurt me.”
When I came out and started wearing men’s clothes, people were there with kind words and encouragement; the priest even offered me fashion tips. When I changed my name, the priest worked with me and my friends to create a blessing of my new name that involved people I loved. When I initiated my medical transition, men in the congregation offered me tips which, while a bit inconsiderate and even rude at times, were well-intended.
Most of my friends are agnostic or atheist because spirituality does not benefit them, especially not if the spiritual people around them don’t love them the way God does. My conversations with friends are complicated because, unlike most of them, I have never struggled with my sexuality or gender identity as things that are wrong with me, but rather as things that bother me because the rest of the world doesn’t seem to understand. Unlike most of them, (I thought) I found a community that enabled me to have a relationship with God while being genuinely and honestly affirmed and loved for who I was.
My relationship with God has been relatively strong, and I have worked to remind myself of one thing I learned from my church experiences: all God needs is for me to know that God loves me.
I have watched churches attempt to celebrate Pride Month (while asking me for advice) and fail before they even start, because the question being asked is often, “How can we get LGBTQIA+ people to show up to church?” I’m here to tell you: if that’s the first question you ask, stop right now.
We are called to let ourselves and the people around us know that God loves us. After that, each of us has an individual, personal, and private relationship with God and it is up to us to decide whether to share that with others, whether at church, at home, or even just over coffee.
God loves our LGBTQIA+ siblings. Full stop. As you and your communities ask yourselves how to celebrate Pride Month, the first question you should ask is, “How can I/we tell LGBTQIA+ people that God loves them and show them love as a community?”
The best place to start is by building a space for LGBTQIA+ people in your hearts and minds. Listen to our stories and hear our feelings, educate yourselves on the struggles we face, and find ways that you can help love the LGBTQIA+ community. Pride month is a time where LGBTIQIA+ people are empowered by each other through community and love. It is a time for celebrating people who have survived against all odds. Many of us are broken, tired, and cast out by our loved ones for parts of ourselves and our identities that many of us have tried and failed to change. Our calling in this time is to listen to the pain and suffering around us and help those who are struggling to feel proud to be who they are and to have made it another day.
Tell people you love them, and then love them like you said you would. That’s how I celebrate Pride.