As an ordained minister, Army veteran, and counselor, I have witnessed the power of faith to sustain and transform people across all walks of life. Yet, I have also seen how religious institutions can exclude and wound those who don't fit a narrow mold.
Growing up with an intolerant stepfather, I learned early on to reject prejudice and instead seek out and learn from those different from myself. My experiences in the military only reinforced the importance of this openness. Time and again, I saw LGBTQ soldiers serve with extraordinary courage and skill, only to face discrimination and discharge. I saw people of all identities put their lives on the line for each other, transcending race, religion, orientation, and gender.
These experiences and Jesus' example in the Gospels have shaped my approach to ministry. When Jesus heals and affirms the faith of those outside the Jewish tradition, he shows that God's love is not bound by religious affiliation. He calls us to love our neighbors without exception. How, then, can we justify excluding LGBTQ individuals or those of other faiths from our churches?
In my ministry, I strive to walk humbly alongside people on their unique spiritual journeys, helping them discern their own beliefs and encounter the Divine. Yet, as a straight, white, Christian male, I know my privilege can blind me and make me an imperfect ambassador. I am committed to listening to and learning from those I seek to serve, even when their experiences challenge my assumptions.
This has not been an easy road. I have faced harassment from within the church for my stances and from outside for my identity. I've seen the pain wrought by clergy misconduct and hypocrisy. Yet, I have also seen the unmatched resilience and faithfulness of LGBTQ Christians and so many others who persevere despite rejection.
Jesus' model of barrier-breaking ministry is needed now more than ever. The politicization of religious life and the deep wounds of the culture wars have left many disillusioned and spiritually adrift. In the story of the Good Samaritan, it is the outsider, the religious other, who proves himself a true neighbor. His compassion transcends tribalism and shows us the heart of God.
As Jesus ministered to Samaritans and Romans, the bleeding woman and the leper, so must we minister to all in our midst. True faith is shown not in righteousness but in love. May we have the humility to see God in the face of those on the margins. May we draw near and let their faith change us.
Our world desperately needs healing, which is only possible through radical openness and grace. This is the call of the Gospel—to let our certainties be shattered by God's reckless, boundary-breaking love. I pray that we can embody this love, however imperfectly, and in so doing, become repairers of the breach.
