#4952

Hi! When I use it, it’s shorthand for “open and affirming,” the phrase used by many churches to express their welcome and acceptance of LGBTA+ people. These churches are sometimes called “progressive” as well, but “open and affirming” is more specifically about the LGBT-welcoming aspects of the progressiveness.

I believe that the title open and affirming, like ally, should not be claimed by an individual or group but must be earned, must be bestowed upon them by the community they aim to support. There are many churches that claim the title open and affirming that are not so open and affirming as they think they are -- they may, for example, provide a safe and comfortable space for gay people but not so much for trans and nonbinary people; or many of their congregants may be accepting in theory but in practice continue to hold and evince homophobic, biphobic, acephobic, and/or transphobic beliefs even if they don’t realize it; or have no response beyond “Well, Jesus loves everybody” when asked about how God affirms LGBTA+ people.

It is my opinion that those of us who are LGBTA+/queer Christians often too readily bestow the title open and affirming on the congregations in which we find a home. That’s okay, and I get it -- when we are used to being rejected on sight, to being told we are broken and sinful and even demonic, to find a faith community where we can hold our significant other’s hand while worshiping God, where a rainbow symbol is present on the church website or even on the sign outside, where the issue of gay rights occasionally comes up from the pulpit, is a life-saving thing. We love these churches enough that we forgive them of their shortcomings.

A congregant asked you and your partner which of you was the “woman” in the relationship, or assumed that you and your girlfriend were “just friends” and responded awkwardly when you corrected them? Well, that’s okay, they meant well. There is no bathroom in the whole church building that you feel comfortable using? That’s okay too, you’re cool with just holding it most Sundays. Language that denies your existence often pops up from the pulpit, such as mentions of family that assume one father and one mother, or exhortations to “brothers and sisters” when you are a nonbinary sibling? Well, the discomfort you feel at that is a passing thing compared to the overall welcome you feel. It’s worth a few small microaggressions if you get to sit in the pew and worship God!

I get it, and I do it too. But we need to start holding our faith communities to higher standards or nothing will change. When we decide we can live with the occasional microaggression at church, not only are we doing a disservice to ourselves and our dignity in the Body of Christ, but we are also throwing many of our LGBTA+ siblings under the bus. There are plenty of us who are searching for a faith community who won’t accept the microaggressions, or who are more vulnerable than we are and will be hurt more by these supposedly-affirming churches than we are, who will walk out and never come back if the church doesn’t have a bathroom for them to use, if they feel gawked at or are constantly misgendered, if the language in the service doesn’t reflect them. For their sake as well as our own, we have to do the hard, often-uncomfortable work of improving our congregations.

How do we communicate to our open and affirming churches that they are doing wonderful, vital work so far but still have so far to go? How do we explain that “Jesus loves everyone” is not a full enough answer to so many desperate and despairing LGBTA+ people? How do we go about educating entire congregations, or transforming buildings and language and whole worldviews?

It’s not easy work, but it’s work that we -- and our allies -- need to take on. We have the God of the oppressed, of the marginalized, of the forgotten on our side as we undertake this work. And we have each other -- if one of us grows weary, others can take up the mantle; if one of us is unable to speak out, others can be their voice; if one of us is afraid, others can be their courage.

Rain, 13.0 C Measured the length and poured water. Probably 1.1 cm long.