Prophetically Reimagining the Church: A Sacred Commitment to Do No Harm 

In every generation, the Church is called to examine itself, not just in what it proclaims, but in how it embodies the love of God in real, lived ways. During Pride Month, that call becomes even more urgent. This is not merely a time of celebration; it is a moment of reckoning. A moment to ask whether our faith spaces are truly sanctuaries, or whether, for too many, they have been sites of harm. 

The principle is simple yet deeply demanding: “do no harm”.  

And yet, harm has been done. 

For LGBTQIA+ siblings, specifically our transgender, gender non-conforming, and non-binary people, the Church has too often been a place of contradiction, where the language of love is spoken, but exclusion is practiced, where identity is debated rather than dignified, where theology has been weaponized instead of used as a tool for liberation. Too often, the harm has not been loud or overt. It has come through silence, avoidance, and a refusal to learn, to grow, and to listen. But harm, intentional or not, is still harm, and the Church must be accountable. 

To prophetically reimagine the Church is to recognize that our responsibility to affirm LGBTQIA+ people is not rooted in cultural trends or political alignment. It is rooted in the very character of God. The call of Micah 6:8, to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly, is not conditional. It does not bend to comfort, tradition, or fear. It demands transformation. To do no harm is not passive; it is an active, ethical commitment that requires intentionality in how we lead, teach, preach, and build community. It calls us to examine theologies that exclude and dismantle those that dehumanize. It requires us to refuse conversations that debate someone’s humanity and to practice humility when we do not understand lived experiences. It invites us to be open to correction without defensiveness and to grow beyond what we have known. 

Many churches pride themselves on being welcoming, but welcome is only the beginning, and far too often; it is where the work stops. The prophetic call before us pushes us further. It compels us to create spaces that are not only welcoming but safe and brave. Spaces where people are protected from harm and where communities are courageous enough to confront bias, name injustice, and move beyond comfort into transformation. This kind of Church respects names, pronouns, and identities without exception. It protects confidentiality and honors the sacredness of personal stories. It builds internal policies that clearly define harm and establish systems of accountability when harm occurs. These are not optional practices; they are expressions of discipleship. Love that does not protect is not love, and faith that does not affirm dignity is not faithfulness. 

If we are honest, transformation must begin with congregational leadership. Clergy, ministry leaders, and lay leaders do more than guide; they set the tone and serve as a living example for our laity and the broader community. The culture of our faith spaces is shaped by the leadership models it affirms and is willing to challenge. 

To prophetically reimagine the Church, leadership must embody affirming language, commit to ongoing education, and cultivate environments where learning replaces debate. It must center the voices and lived experiences of transgender and gender non-conforming individuals who are too often disregarded, not as an afterthought, but as essential to the body of Christ. In doing so, leadership teaches the beloved community how to love, listen, and grow. 

This is not about perfection; it is about commitment. The kind of commitment that chooses growth over comfort, accountability over avoidance, and courage over fear. When leadership models this well, it invites the entire community into transformation. When it does not, harm is allowed to linger. 

At its core, the Church has always been called to embody the Beloved Community, a place where all are seen, heard, valued, and loved. But that vision cannot be realized without inclusion. Affirmation is not an add-on to the gospel, the Good News; it is evidence of it. To affirm people, especially those not in the majority or those whose identities are being legislated with the threat of erasure, is to recognize their divine creation, celebrate their identities as sacred, and ensure their full participation in the life of the Church. This is not radical; it is faithful. 

Prophetically reimagining the Church also requires a collective commitment. This work does not belong to a select few; it belongs to all of us. Together, we are responsible for shaping communities where harm is not tolerated and where love is not conditional. We are called to embody a faith that listens, learns, honors dignity, and creates space for all people to encounter God without fear. 

If the Church cannot be a place of safety, then it has lost its witness. If the Church cannot be a place of affirmation, then it has misunderstood its calling. But if the Church chooses courage, if it chooses accountability, growth, and love, then it can become exactly what it was always meant to be, a sanctuary for the Whosoever, a reflection of divine love, and a living testimony that all are created good, worthy, and beloved. 

This is the work before us. Not just in Pride Month, but every day. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: The Rev. Elder Carmarion D. Anderson serves as Minister for Congregational Leadership in the National Setting of the United Church of Christ.