On the eve of Super Bowl LIX in New Orleans, the “anti-vaccine, pro-Trump, guitar-strumming preacher” Sean Feucht staged a so-called Jesus March in the French Quarter of New Orleans.
Marc Boswell
In addition to Feucht’s rise to fame for defying safety orders and leading worship services in the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, he also associates with politicians who lead anti-LGBTQ crusades and champion Christian nationalist agendas. On March 9, 2023, for instance, Rep. Lauren Boebert, R-Colo., a known opponent of the trans community, joined Feucht for a charismatic-style worship gathering in the rotunda of our nation’s Capitol.
As New Orleans has long been known as a welcoming city for LGBTQ individuals, Feucht’s visit felt especially out of place. In response, faith leaders and laity from around the city gathered to engage Feucht’s march in very typical New Orleans fashion. In New Orleans culture, a “second line” is the tradition of parade onlookers joining in the back of a procession being led through the streets by a brass band. The occasion, even with funeral parades, is joyous and full of music and dancing.
In this spirit, the gathered crowd of New Orleans-based people of faith joined in at the back of Feucht’s march, playing tambourines, waving pride flags and insisting that “our faith does not discriminate,” as several signs said.
“They said they believed LGBTQ individuals were demonically possessed.”
As the march concluded in front of the St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square, several “theology bros” from Feucht’s march approached our group and asked why we supported the LGBTQ community, especially transgender individuals. I was holding a “Protect Trans Youth” sign and wearing a clergy collar, which particularly troubled them. They said they believed LGBTQ individuals were demonically possessed and if churches offered affirmation and support to trans youth, then the churches, too, they reasoned, were tools of the Devil. Literally.
Christians in New Orleans prepare their signs to march in protest of Sean Feucht’s event in New Orleans. (St. Charles Avenue Baptist Church via Facebook)
One muscle-shirt wearing, hyper-masculine man even offered his apologies, through gritted teeth, for “however it was that I was hurt as a child” — assuming a Chrisitan leader could only be so misguided to support the LGBTQ community if one had unhealed childhood trauma. This sentiment was also, undoubtedly, his explanation for why someone would identify as queer and not, as I countered, because it was the beautiful way in which God created the people in question.
As President Donald Trump now creates space for Feucht and friends in his newly founded White House Faith Office, led by Paula White-Cain, a colleague of Feucht, this particular strand of neo-charismatic Christianity is firmly entrenched within our nation’s executive branch. Feucht even gleefully shared on social media last November that “the sound of prayer and worship will once again fill the Oval Office!”
Nevertheless, our counter-protesters or second-liners, numbering 30 individuals or more, received nothing but an outpouring of support and encouraging words from other tourists and New Orleanians who watched on the streets as we marched and danced and held our signs. During this outpouring of anti-trans executive orders and heightened anti-queer sentiment, let us then stand boldly with our queer-identifying friends, neighbors, fellow clergy, deacons and community members.
The world is watching. And, at least in New Orleans, they’ll be pleasantly surprised to see welcoming and affirming Christian support.
Marc Boswell serves as pastor of St. Charles Avenue Baptist Church in New Orleans.
Related articles:
Of worship warfare, theocracy and a weekend with Sean Feucht | Analysis by Rick Pidcock
When worship becomes an act of cruelty | Analysis by Rick Pidcock