At RCIA last night, a conversation sparked a profound reflection within me—a conversation about identity, faith, and inclusion. A young man expressed that he didn’t consider Episcopalians to be Christians, mainly because some church decided to display a pride flag in their congregations rather than a cross. His statement left me thinking: how many LGBTQ+ couples sit in the pews of Catholic churches every Sunday? Do we consider them Christians? And more personally, what does it mean to truly walk in faith when the boundaries of sin and grace are so intricately woven together?
In the wake of that exchange, I found myself ordering a rainbow rosary and a pride bracelet as a tangible act of solidarity and reflection. It wasn’t just about an accessory or a statement—it was about my faith, my identity, and how I reconcile the love that Christ offers with the complexities of human experience. As Christians, we know we are called to love, to reflect Christ's grace and compassion, even as we uphold moral teachings. But how do we balance this with the very real presence of LGBTQ+ individuals in our faith communities?
The Struggle Between Truth and Love
The question of sin, especially when it comes to sexual orientation and gender identity, is often a point of tension within Christian communities. The Church teaches that same-sex sexual activity is sinful, but at the same time, we are called to love our neighbors as ourselves. The challenge arises when we consider how these two truths can coexist. How do we reconcile a theology that teaches against certain behaviors, while also recognizing the humanity and dignity of every person, regardless of their sexual orientation?
Jesus never condemned people for who they were; rather, he reached out to them, offering love and healing. He didn’t shy away from engaging with those on the margins of society—the tax collectors, the sinners, the outcasts. In fact, his ministry was often defined by his association with the very people who were considered “other” by the religious elite of his time.
So, when we see LGBTQ+ couples sitting in our pews, seeking community and solace in God’s presence, what does our response look like? Does it look like judgment and exclusion, or does it reflect the love of Christ, which calls us to welcome all people with compassion, regardless of their struggles or perceived "sins"?
A Church of Welcome, Not Condemnation
There’s a saying that “the Church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.” This phrase reminds us that we are all in need of God’s grace and mercy. No one person’s sin is more severe or unforgivable than another’s. While the Church does call us to live in accordance with the teachings of Christ, it also calls us to be merciful, to be a people of grace.
This is where the conversation shifts from condemnation to empathy. How many gay couples sit in our churches? I would guess more than many of us realize. And perhaps they come not just seeking to fulfill an obligation or tradition, but to seek something more—love, grace, connection to the divine, and to the broader Christian community. Just like any other person, they are longing for God’s embrace.
The LGBTQ+ community’s presence in the pews of the Catholic Church does not undermine the faith; rather, it challenges us to ask whether we are truly living the faith we profess. Are we creating spaces where all people, regardless of sexual orientation, can encounter the love of God? Are we willing to listen to their stories, understand their struggles, and acknowledge their humanity?
Walking the Path of Grace
In my own journey, I have found that the act of placing a rainbow rosary in my hands and wearing a pride bracelet is not about endorsing sin, but rather about embracing a broader view of the people God calls us to love. In doing so, I am reminded that grace is not about condoning everything we do, but about meeting people where they are and walking alongside them, regardless of their circumstances.
To say that LGBTQ+ individuals are excluded from the body of Christ because of their sexual orientation is to forget that we are all sinners in need of redemption. Each one of us has fallen short of the glory of God, and yet, we are all invited to share in the love and life of Christ. Christ never turned anyone away, even when they were steeped in sin. He came to seek and save the lost, and that is what we are called to do as well.
We can’t condone sin, but neither can we condemn people. Instead, we are called to love. Love doesn’t mean ignoring the truth; it means seeing the person before us as a child of God, worthy of respect, dignity, and grace. It means walking with them through their joys and struggles, without judgment, but with the understanding that the path of faith is not one of perfection—it’s one of transformation.
Conclusion: A Community Built on Love
As we continue to navigate our faith, we must be honest with ourselves about what it means to love our neighbors. To love doesn’t mean to approve of everything they do, but it does mean offering them the same grace that God offers us. It means reflecting the unconditional love that Christ shows us every day.
So, to answer the question: “Do I consider LGBTQ+ couples Christians?” My answer is simple: yes. They are as much a part of the Body of Christ as any other person who professes faith in Jesus. They are invited into the same grace, the same love, and the same call to holiness. And while the journey may look different for each person, it is a journey that we all share together.
In the end, our role is not to condemn but to walk alongside one another, offering love, support, and understanding as we all seek to live out the call of Christ in our lives. And in this, we find that the Church, with all of its imperfections, can be a place of deep healing, grace, and transformation for everyone—no matter their identity or struggles.
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