For 12 of my 15 years of pastoring, I pastored in an Anabaptist denomination — Brethren in Christ — that was not LGBTQ-affirming. For a long time, I was a closeted queer pastor and also closeted about my LGBTQ+ affirmation. But as I gained more courage, I came out, and when it became clear to me that the denomination would not become LGBTQ-affirming anytime soon, I finally relinquished my credentials.

I joined Mennonite Church USA as a pastor in May 2023. I did this less than a year after delegates affirmed the Resolution for Repentance and Transformation. It is precisely this resolution that has made MC USA a welcome place for me. 

I am deeply indebted to the labor of many queer people and allies for this resolution. Without it, MC USA could not be a home for me.

I am also indebted to the labor and care of my beloved West Philadelphia Mennonite Fellowship, which had many hard conversations about how it related to its nonaffirming conference, named Franconia at the time. Their work paved the way for me to serve as their pastor. I honor work that Allegheny Mennonite Conference did to move toward LGBTQ+ affirmation, as well.

I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to serve as a pastor in MC USA, Allegheny Conference and West Philadelphia Mennonite Fellowship. I thank God for this gift, and I honor the painful labor that came before me. 

This gratitude is met with sadness about how my inclusion as a queer person has resulted in division in the church.

Though the circumstances are more complicated than this, it is not controversial to suggest that the Resolution for Repentance and Transformation — which helped MC USA move toward being an LGBTQ-affirming denomination — played a part in Mosaic Conference’s decision to leave MC USA. 

Though Mosaic’s choice isn’t reducible to a difference of opinion about marriage and sexuality, it was a factor. This is a painful reminder, for me as a queer Christian pastor, that my inclusion is not normative and, in the eyes of some Christians, is sinful.

Adding to the pain, Mennonite World Conference, after hearing con­cerns from three U.S. member denominations, revoked Stanley Green’s appointment as North America’s representative because of MC USA’s LGBTQ-affirming position (AW, December). 

Less than two weeks later, the Ethiopian Anabaptist church pulled out of hosting the 2028 MWC assembly over “rumors and falsehoods” that “gay people are coming in 2028 to spread homosexuality through MWC” (page 24). As a queer person, this felt gut-wrenching.

That pain can lead me to feel ill-placed regret and remorse. On days when I feel less bold, I can blame myself for division in the church. I can feed myself the lie that if I had just stayed closeted, this wouldn’t be happening. 

I’m not alone in this belief, I am sure. Dialogue and theological debate about my identity are painful in and of themselves. For that reason, I try not to engage in those conversations and try to find affirming places to worship and to serve.

Thank God for every queer person who stays in the church, because it is not easy. I empathize with those who have left the church because, based on how they are treated, it makes total sense that someone would do that. 

If you are moved to, I encourage you to pray for and support queer people, as you are able.

The difficulties of these circumstances make me even more grateful for congregations, conferences and denominations that have not wavered in their commitment to LGBTQ+ inclusion. The cost of this inclusion is not lost on me.

It makes me proud that MC USA did not sell me out to avoid conflict. It stood by queer people, despite the cost. This gives me the courage to keep going.

So I write to encourage everyone who feels the pain of recent losses and decisions. I share in your sadness. I feel it in my body. But as a queer person, I am grateful you maintained your resolve. 

And if you have moments like I do, when you question my denomination’s direction, I want you to know that the harsh environment we live in also sometimes causes me to question my very identity. Our feelings are real, and we should tend to them, but they don’t have to lead us. 

Queer people need your love and support. It grows our faith, emboldens our convictions and helps us navigate the world as our beloved selves, created in God’s image.