Across the United States, voters turned out in remarkable numbers, sending a powerful message that they long for a different direction for our country. A blue wave swept across much of the political landscape, bringing with it renewed hope that the direction of our nation can change.
For many of us, there was a palpable sense of relief. Perhaps even a little joy. After so much division, fear, political cruelty and uncertainty, there was something profoundly encouraging about witnessing millions of people exercise their democratic right and make their voices heard.
I found myself thinking of the words of the Irish poet Seamus Heaney, who imagined a moment when the long-awaited tide of justice might finally rise and, as he so beautifully put it, “hope and history rhyme.”
Brian Henderson
Perhaps we caught a glimpse of that possibility Tuesday night.
As Baptist pastor, judge and longtime champion for justice Wendell Griffen reminded us: “Last night we celebrated. Today we rest. Tomorrow we get back to work.”
And there is still so much work to do.
Because even as many Americans celebrated the election results, another story was unfolding. A story that should give all of us, especially those of us who claim to follow Jesus, reason to pause.
For many of our transgender siblings, election night brought not only hope but heartbreak.
In Arizona, Nebraska, Colorado and Washington, voters approved ballot measures further restricting the rights and participation of transgender people, particularly young people. These initiatives address everything from participation in school athletics to access to appropriate facilities and, in some cases, gender-affirming health care.
Consider the painful contradiction.
On the very same night that millions of Americans voted for change, other voters supported measures that further marginalize some of the most vulnerable members of our communities.
“What does it say about us as a nation when the dignity, rights and well-being of transgender children are subjected to the will of a popular vote?”
Some celebrated political victories while others were left wondering what those same election results might mean for their safety, their dignity and their futures.
What does it say about us as a nation when the dignity, rights and well-being of transgender children are subjected to the will of a popular vote? What does it say about our collective moral imagination when young people, already navigating the complexities of adolescence, are made the subjects of political campaigns that question their very belonging?
And perhaps most importantly for those of us in the church, what does our faith require of us in such a moment?
I have spent more than 25 years in Baptist ministry, and today I serve as executive director of the Association of Welcoming and Affirming Baptists. Throughout those years, I have witnessed extraordinary changes in the ways churches understand and embrace LGBTQ people.
Congregations once unwilling even to discuss sexual orientation or gender identity have become communities of genuine welcome. Pastors and church members have discovered the people they were once taught to fear or reject are, in fact, their neighbors, their friends, their children, their colleagues and their fellow disciples of Jesus.
And yet, I am increasingly convinced that welcome alone is not enough.
It is one thing for a congregation to declare transgender people are welcome in its pews. It is quite another to stand alongside those same people when their dignity is questioned, their access to health care is threatened or their participation in everyday life becomes a political controversy.
“A welcoming church cannot remain silent when the people it welcomes are being harmed.”
A welcoming church cannot remain silent when the people it welcomes are being harmed. This is not simply a matter of political preference. It is a matter of theological conviction.
Our faith tradition teaches that every human being bears the image of God. Jesus consistently crossed the boundaries that religious and social systems established to determine who belonged and who did not. Again and again, he directed attention toward those who had been pushed to the margins, reminding his followers that love of God and love of neighbor cannot be separated.
If we take those teachings seriously, then our response to the struggles of transgender people cannot be limited to expressions of sympathy.
Our faith calls us to something more. It calls us to listen to transgender people rather than merely talk about them. It calls us to challenge harmful narratives rather than quietly tolerate them. It calls us to create congregations where transgender children and their families can experience genuine safety, belonging and joy. And it calls us to recognize that the pursuit of justice is not a competition in which the dignity of one group must be diminished for another to flourish.
Brian Henderson is a pastor ordained in the American Baptist Churches USA. He serves as executive director of the Association of Welcoming and Affirming Baptists.