Pride isn’t an expression of the arrogance of queer people. It’s an expression of our humility. Being who we are is not a rebellion against God; it’s an end to rebellion, and an expression of who we were made to be.
I believe we will all celebrate together, one day. We will all see a renewed world where we can feast side by side. I believe we will receive our final wages and be glad for what we are given. But until that day comes, there is still soul work to be done, and wages to be paid on this side of heaven. Because the work of redemption is the work of reparation.
We may have lost a potential friend forever, because we, for all our talk of love and grace and justice, made a mistake in ignorance that we accuse our enemies of making in malice.
May we remember something that is as true of God during Advent as it is at Christmas, just as it is true on Good Friday and in the Easter narratives of Thomas and the resurrection. That truth is this: we serve a tender God.
Just like meeting a cat when they make you break out in hives, meeting people where they live, where they grow, where they love—in the sacred interiority of their homes—is not an endeavor without risk. But it is in these spaces where we move from encountering the world and expanding the reach of Christian community, into what it means to make and build and sustain and nurture the relationships on which a truly redeemed world relies.