“And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.” - Christian hymn
As a longtime progressive pastor, I’ve come to understand that there are few people as unloving as Conservative Evangelicals claiming to hate the sin but love the sinner.
And yet, when the snarling ugliness is a few feet away from you, showing you just how unloving it intends to be, it’s always disorienting.
Yesterday, for the second year, our town of Wake Forest held a Pride Festival in our quaint, historic downtown area. As I turned the corner and entered the blocks of the festival grounds, I was immediately taken aback by the scale and scope of the event, which had grown substantially from its successful inaugural incarnation twelve months ago.
Though it was still early in the day, the streets were already absolutely packed with a kaleidoscopic display of jubilant life: parents pushing kids in balloon-laden strollers, a sprawling parade of dogs decked out in rainbow gear, teenagers (and plenty of older folks) in glittering unicorn face paint, straight and queer couples holding hands with their partners, middle-aged dads dancing with their daughters to Chappell Roan’s “Pink Pony Club,” a local high school drum line winding through the crowd, and beaming young girls from the local roller derby skate club zooming by. (This must be the dangerous woke mob I’ve read so much about.)
There were rows of local artists displaying their handiwork, area businesses, churches, and nonprofits connecting with the community they serve, and an array of food trucks ensuring everyone was well-fed (or, in my case, overfed).
And swirling all around were the sounds of music, laughter, and conversations. Everywhere you turned, there were fierce embraces, impromptu dance parties, wide smiles, and unbridled joy. It was a glorious thing to behold.
And then, the “Christians” showed up.
As they did last year, a sullen, stone-faced cadre of almost exclusively young white men from local (and out of state) Evangelical churches descended upon the festival, wielding signs promising an afterlife in Hell, shouting cherry-picked Leviticus quotes through megaphones, accosting people upon entering with warnings of the perversion they were contributing to be attending, and rudely breaking into the path of hundreds of strangers who they had to work hard just to be there to interrupt.
But the people of this town were not having it.
At every turn, these dour, sanctimonious ministers of misery were met with waves of volunteers and moms and pastors and teenagers and drag queens; with drummers and cheer squads and wooden fan clickers and Bluetooth speaker-wielding seniors, and the deafening chants of “Love is Love” that drowned out their performative religiosity.
It was a vivid display of actual love showing up in response to cruelty in love’s clothing—and these Christians won’t get it.
Based on their self-congratulatory social media posts later in the day, these supposed followers of Jesus were and remain oblivious to the irony of their efforts:
That, in the name of ridding a community of threats to children, they were the predators: hovering around the family zone’s bouncy houses waving signs assuring eternal damnation, getting into the personal space of young girls on roller skates, shouting Bible verses about God’s judgement, and impeding the path of strangers with their kids, all while having their own, obviously embarrassed children in tow.
That a massive police presence and a diligent volunteer staff of dozens were required to continually protect families, adult couples, children, and elderly attendees from them; people there simply to enjoy life, center love, and declare community solidarity—and whose sense of safety and belonging they were purposefully disrupting.
That, as they screamed at people at point-blank range through bullhorns instead of grabbing coffee and actually learning their stories and as they continually shouted above event speakers (like me), instead of listening to what we had to say about the compassion that can save us all, they were displaying the very intolerant, bullying, loveless ugliness the rest of this nation encounters in Conservative Christians.
That, with the heavy rain forecasted never materializing, they were the single dark and dangerous element in an otherwise beautiful, light-filled celebration of our diverse community; that a disparate gathering of the very neighbors their Jesus calls them to love was all around them, and they made them feel hated.
One of the disrupters later posted that he and his partners were celebrating that “the Gospel was preached.” What he doesn’t understand is that their “Gospel” provided no good news, brought no love for neighbor, exuded no joy, and was bereft of Jesus.
All that stuff came from those they were targeting.
Our amazing Wake Forest Pride team worked tirelessly for the entire year to create something truly beautiful for our town. They navigated the incredible logistical obstacle course, pulled together financial support, recruited and trained volunteers, assembled a roster of vendors and singers and poets and leaders and dance teams and entertainers, and they crafted a thoughtful, inclusive, family-friendly experience for every member of our community.
It was in every sense and by every measure an irrefutable success.
Our community-at-large showed up this weekend in ways that surprised me and brought tears to my eyes and reminded me how much good there still is in the world, and in this town. They showed up in numbers I could not have imagined, they came with a spirit of unity, and they refused to let the violence directed at them derail them from the joy of the moment.
Love was everywhere in our town yesterday.
And then, the “Christians” showed up to try and eradicate it.
Seems like America these days…
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Of course, they did. And then they can't understand why no one wants to listen to them and play the victim. 🙄
Further evidence that many Christians are oppressive assholes. I'm sorry it makes the rest of you look bad.