I went to a queer Christian conference. Here are my thoughts.
At the end of January, I hopped on a plane at LGA with a dream and my gayest jacket. Where was I headed? Albuquerque [cue Weird Al]. I attended the 2024 Queer Christian Fellowship Conference, my second LGBTQ+ Christian conference ever.
As a baby queer, I'm new to the world of queer Christian life. I was peripherally familiar with the community back when I was "straight." I'd only been out to myself for about seven months by the time I went to this conference and was fairly freshly "released from membership" at my church. I wanted to check out the vibe of this conference (as with any group of humans, every conference/group has its own culture, etc., even amongst the different LGBTQ+ Christian gatherings).
As a Christian author, podcaster, coach, etc., I also wanted to network. Though I am grateful for every human who follows me, coming out tanked my follower count. Continuing to post about being bi also tanks my follower count. For example, this recent post about being bi coincided with losing 15 followers. I don't begrudge anyone unfollowing me if I'm not the right fit. However, I want to get a book deal sooner rather than later, and publishers REALLY care about numbers.
That's showbiz, baby.
As I mentioned, this was my second LGBTQ+ Christian conference. My main takeaway from the first was to look into queer theology because that sounded more like my vibe. Though I made some good connections at The Reformation Project conference, they made a point of distinguishing affirming theology from queer theology. You can read more about their position here.
I think equality for same-sex marriages is important. But I still don't think God's main directive to us humans is to get married. Nor do I think marriage equality goes deep enough or even scratches the surface of what queer folks bring to the church. I've never been an apologetics kind of gal. I also don't consider myself intentionally offensive or extreme in the ways Matthew Vines describes in his talk or the linked piece from the TRP website. However, I find queer theology far more compelling than a theology that feels like it reinforces the marriage/single hierarchy in all the least helpful ways.
Almost immediately during the first session, QCF was different. Both on-stage and among attendees, I noticed a ton more diversity. Race and ethnicity, orientation and gender, etc. Pronoun pins were provided, and we were directed to wear one color lanyard if we were comfortable being photographed and another if we weren't. There was a team of ASL interpreters who took turns up front. And overall, I'd describe the vibe as warm (this is hella objective, but I stand by it).
Where TRP felt very heady, QCF felt very heart-forward. That's not to say things were "dumbed down," whatever that means. Inclusion felt like the main goal, as opposed to apologetics.
My favorite session was Saturday morning when Brit Barron talked about hope. She used an Octavia Butler quote that has been living in my head rent-free ever since. "All justice work is fiction writing." She helped us remember that we could gather because we stand on the shoulders of folks who came before us. She told us that it's not us individually against the world. It's us, the people who have come before us, and those who will come after. I remember the way those words filled me with excitement. I'll carry them with me and use them to help me remember to zoom out when things feel impossible.
I'm grateful I attended with some Side B pals. I'm Side A, so I experienced the conference differently than they did. I was not as quick to notice when Side B theology was a punchline and how attendees reacted to those comments. My friends openly wondered if the conference was a space for them or even should be. Perhaps because so many who attend QCF are coming out of evangelicalism and have significant trauma around "traditional Biblical sexual ethics," would it make more sense to say that QCF is a space for Side A Christians?
I don't have an answer. I appreciated the intent behind having a Side B affinity group and ostensibly including Side B folks in the planning and purpose of the conference. But if many of the speakers and breakout sessions do not uphold this posture of welcome, then perhaps the culture that has developed in the larger QCF community is not on board.
I take a Side C approach (which is probably very bisexual of me). I am happy to be clear in my conviction, but I also want to meet people where they are. I want to make space for folks who have discerned differently from me. The truth is, I think that I find Side B theology to be compelling and beautiful. Side B folks get hate from straight and affirming/queer folks. I trust the Holy Spirit in my Side B pals, and I have a high regard for their agency. The same goes for my Side A pals.
However, this conference did leave me with a lot to think about. I had an incredible experience. Networking here felt so much more exciting and organic than at TRP. I felt welcomed and truly felt like I could BE in a way I haven't experienced in a church space in a long time. Next year, I hope to pitch a breakout session.
As a baby queer, I'm sure there were dynamics and issues I wasn't privy to. There were some that I also was privy to. I love the heart of what QCF is doing. But it's still an organization made up of human beings and thus is prone to its pitfalls and blindspots. Overall, however, it was a positive experience for me and led to some wonderful connections and healing moments.
What do you think? Have you ever been to a conference or gathering for LGBTQ+ Christians? Would you recommend it? Leave a comment and let the people know!
