The Protestant default
Queer people of faith deserve to worship communally.
I begin most mornings by fastening my little silver crucifix chain to my neck. Having grown up in the Greek Orthodox Church, wearing religious symbols has always been a no-brainer.
I had never questioned my faith until I was 12 years old—around the time I realized I was gay. Until that point, religion had always been something I associated with positively. As I began holding space for queer media, I was made aware of the horrific abuses so many queer people faced at the hands of religious institutions.
The Gay Pride movement itself is a repudiation of the Church’s views on sin. It dismisses the paternalistic and violent attitudes displayed by a great deal of heterosexual religious people towards our community. Organized religion is painted as archaic, despotic and too restrictive for queer lifestyles. What has resulted is the concept of gaytheism: the belief that the only way to be authentically queer is to renounce your religious background and modernize your belief system.
Whenever I go on dates with men wearing my little cross, I often get asked about my religious beliefs. Something I find interesting, though, is the sort of person asking those kinds of questions. I’ve noticed that white, gay men are far more likely to be hostile toward the pendant, while queer men of colour relate to it a lot more. For many queer men of colour, queerness is an add-on to their cultural identity, which includes the faith in which they were raised.
You do not have to renounce your religious beliefs to be authentically queer—authentically yourself. A major downside, however, is how isolating it can be to exist as a queer person of faith. So many of our religious institutions have made it clear that we are not welcome. When Greece legalized gay marriage last year, the loudest homophobic screeds came from the Church. Thanks, guys.
My queer Muslim friends have it just as bad, feeling like they cannot openly identify as both without fearing ostracism or abuse.
The result is what I would call a Protestant default: A situation where if we still want to be religious, we must do so by faith alone. We don’t feel comfortable entering religious spaces or forming a community with straight practitioners for fear that we will be shunned. Eventually, because we lack the structural support to uphold our beliefs, the lack of upkeep leads to a washing away of our commitment to our faith. Homophobic pushback from the institutions we have grown up in leads us to accept the gaytheist worldview.
The other option is to sit and hide. Last May, Pope Francis apologized for repeatedly being caught jokingly using the word “frociaggine” while referring to closeted gay men’s heavy presence in the Catholic Church. The word translates to faggotry, which I would usually find hilarious were it not for the Church’s extremely anti-queer stances. We have always been present in organized religion, and asking us to repress a core part of who we are is inhumane.
Let me get one more thing clear. Homophobia spewed by religious people is not merely a reaction to our so-called sinful nature. Go into any religious establishment during a time of worship and you will find a plethora of abusive, cruel, fundamentally ungodly people congregating. It has never been about gay sex.
I’m not ready to give up on God just yet. I’d like to think that a divine brick could eventually land on the head of some obstinate bishop, but I’m not too optimistic. Until our institutions are ready to bring us into the fold instead of making us choose sides, we must do our best to find one another and spread love.
If you are also a queer religious person, remember that you are loved for who you are and don’t have to change to fit those around you. Find your people—allies included—and cherish them with all your heart. Keep the faith, baby!
This article originally appeared in Volume 45, Issue 8, published January 28, 2025.