A Queer Pastor on Why Progress Was Never Guaranteed and What We Can Do About It

Finding strength, hope and community when the world feels unsafe

Published: March 30, 2026 | Last Updated: March 30, 2026

Holy crap. When are things going to get better?

People in my church look at me funny if I say "holy crap" from a pulpit, so I will say it here. Wondering when things are going to get better is legitimate, especially in times like these.

As queer people, especially as a white queer person in this country, it would seem that recent history tells us things will only get better, that progress is inevitable. Our rights, once we have them, will never be taken away. Of course the history of any oppressed community reminds us that progress is never assumed, even when it is fought for and won.

As a queer clergy person of almost 25 years in a mainline Protestant denomination, I started my career as an outlaw, illegal because of my sexual orientation. I became tentatively accepted, and then it became almost in vogue to welcome gay people. Well, in vogue as long as we were in an urban or suburban community, white and cisgender.

Now it feels like the world has permission to question our existence again, even in public spaces and in places like Congress where we thought we had finally convinced people that we were too fabulous to cross. It is not difficult to be lulled into a state of denial when public figures were, for a while, canceled for using derogatory slurs to describe us. A couple of elections later, a cultural shift toward fear, and we are again facing those words and much more regarding queerness, race, gender, religious background, immigration status and beyond. Our immigrant neighbors, sisters who need healthcare options and friends who are in the military are all in danger, too.

It is OK to feel bad about that, or depressed, or angry or whatever we feel. Then we need to get moving again, reminded that this is what the ancestors always did, and what the next generations will also need to do. It does not stop. It never has. It never will. Whatever privilege we may have or claim can go away, often when we least expect it.

In the midst of all this, we can do some things that seem to be working for people around me.

First, we support one another. We check in when it has been a particularly difficult week. I am not always the best at this one, but it never fails that when the day's news is particularly bad, one of my best friends will at least text me, if not call me, to lament and build each other up.

Second, we can physically go to places we know are safe, and do so intentionally, with safe people. Maybe that is a coffee shop, restaurant, house of worship or the living room of a friend. That safe place becomes, even if just for a few moments, critical in finding our mental, emotional and spiritual grounding.

Third, remember that we are not the issue. Those who hate are the ones with the spiritual, moral and mental problems. Hate-filled people and systems are designed by broken people. It is absolutely unjust that oppressed people live in systems built to abuse or discriminate. We remind ourselves that hatred is not acceptable and that we must push back in any way we can, taking acceptable risks that remind the haters and oppressive systems that we will not accept this crap. (Sorry, I said it again.)

We are on the side of justice, and we have power, especially when we use it collectively. We organize, we vote, we speak up wherever we can. We spend our money in places that help oppressed communities. Remember, Amazon will never come to save us, but our local merchant may be a critical community supporter.

We are a community of communities full of life and vision. We need to remind ourselves of that. Easter is on the heart of my faith community this time of year. In our tradition, Easter is the morning where our faith leader, killed by the state because he believed in compassion and justice, quotes his sister, Diana Ross, from the inside of a tomb saying, "I'm coming out, I want the world to know." Then he does. Life always wins, even when injustice wins for the moment.

Whatever our faith or non-faith tradition, we need to come out as people who demand justice, who want a cohesive community, who want racism eliminated. We need to come out against verbal and physical attacks against the trans community. We need to come out. We do not get what we want, what we need, by waiting for oppressive people or systems to change their minds, or even just waiting for them to die.

Life may get a lot better or worse in the days and months to come, especially for those in marginalized places. Either way, we have strength, power and courage, not to mention the creative power of the universe that made sure we exist in the first place.