Two years ago, I had the distinct honor of driving the truck for the Cio’s Playhouse float in Baltimore’s Pride Parade. Cio’s Playhouse is a nonprofit run by a good friend of mine that provides entertainment and community space for the Latino queer community in Baltimore. All of their events are a blast, but driving the truck that day takes the torta. It was amazing.
The truck was completely covered in rainbow flags. DJ Shyboy, another friend and local DJ in the community, was blasting vibrant Latino beats in the bed of the truck, earphones on, shirt off. Immediately behind the float was our planning group that had prepared everything for Pride, waving to the crowd that lined both sides of the road and filling the air with bubbles. Behind them was a group of baile folkorico dancers twirling as their colorful dresses spun in suspense, hovering in mid-air. Ahead of and behind us were over a hundred community groups representing themselves by putting their identities on full display and living who they are created to be to the fullest. It felt like all of humanity was there, proud and celebrated for being themselves.
The following year, I walked in the Pride Parade with my Redeemer clergy colleagues, friends from our church community, as well as priests and parishioners from all over the Diocese. And much like the year before, my eyes were filled with tears and my cheeks hurt from smiling. It is such a joy to witness hundreds of people embracing who they are, living in the light, and being loved.
Bishop Gene Robinson once said, “I think there’s a terrible price to be paid when your exterior life is not an honest reflection of your interior life.” My experience of the Pride Parade is that it helps me to avoid ever having to pay that price. Seeing people who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and every other experience of being queer leaning into their identities, proudly showing forth who they are as if they were glowing with divine love, and graciously being seen, known, loved, and celebrated precisely for being who they are. Going to the Pride Parade helps me to reflect externally who I am internally. And I believe that can be true for everyone.
Attending the Pride Parade is also an incredibly meaningful way to support, encourage, and lift up others who may be struggling to accept or reveal who they are. As people who have lived in the secrecy of the closet, it matters to have people welcome us to the light when we’re ready to come out. As people who have had to wonder if we would lose friends or relatives if they ever found out the truth about us, it matters to be known and embraced, even by strangers. As people who have been told and maybe even believed that we have no place in church, or that we are disordered because of who we are attracted to, or that we are not capable of having a relationship with God; it matters to have people who tell us clearly and loudly that they love us.
If you’re free this Saturday, June 13 from 12:00 to 3:00, I want to invite you to join in the Pride Parade. Unfortunately, I can’t make it, as I’ll be at a conference for Ignatian Spiritual Directors this weekend. So please go in my stead! I don’t think you’ll regret it. Be the light that helps others know that they are loved. Be the light that assures yourself that you are loved. Be the light. Be love.
Love,