Pride All Year Long

On the final Sunday of Pride Month, my local newspaper published an article by Pastor Tom, entitled “One Deadly Sin.” The column appearing in the Castlegar News begins this way: 

“Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” – Proverbs 16:18

The Bible is filled with warnings against pride. Proverbs 15:25: “The Lord will destroy the house of the proud.” Proverbs 16:5: “Every one that is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord.”

Was this another condemnation of our queer and trans siblings, complete ignorance, or something else entirely?

On one hand, a conversation about pride and humility is important. It’s important to contend with those areas of life in which we—as individuals and as communities—think of ourselves more highly than we ought. As a church, it’s possible that we don’t deal with this enough. 

On the other hand, bringing forth the warning against pride on the final Sunday of Pride Month doesn’t come across as particularly sensitive to the queer and trans community that has regularly experienced exclusion and violence at the hands of the church. Perhaps that wasn’t on Pastor Tom’s mind when he composed the article. Whatever the case, the timing was rather unfortunate. 

As I clicked through to the article, I couldn’t help but wonder, what would the presence of this article in the paper and email blast suggest to its 2S/LGBTQIA subscribers? What might this article---placed not in a church newsletter, but the weekly local paper--suggest about the kind of community we’re in? 

Further, I wondered what it might suggest about the church. Perhaps more to the point, would folks in the community assume that this article spoke for all Christians? Would they assume it spoke for me? 

For a number of months now, I have focused my regular columns on who I believe God is calling the church to be in this moment of increased violence and hate: a people of faithfulness, imagination, and bravery. This is a call for all who profess faithfulness to Christ, to be transformed by God in wholehearted worship, and sent into the world with Jesus to join in his healing work. 

The work of healing, of seeking right relationship, is the work to which Christ calls us. It’s vital work. It requires imagination and bravery. Such discipleship is costly. This serves as an ever-present reminder that we don’t join Jesus in his healing work solely for our own sake. This call and invitation, an invitation that we affirm and reaffirm in our baptismal liturgy, reminds us that we do not do it alone. This is the call of the whole Church. For you, for me, for all of us: to join in this work, grounded in wholehearted worship, fuelled by Holy Spirit, all for Christ’s sake and that of the world God loves. 

It is in this context that I chose to write a letter to the editor in response to Pastor Tom’s column. In writing I sought to muddy the waters, to demonstrate that there are other ways in which Christians approach such matters.

In an increasingly post-Christian province, how many people would know that the words he shared represented different commitments than mine? My suspicion is that for many, Pastor Tom and I are interchangeable voices of something called Christianity. Without specifically naming our disagreements, we all get painted with the same brush. 

"Christians," one could gather from this article, "stand firmly against Pride." 

But if the dominant cultural reference to pride is a month-long festival of resistance rooted in the history of Stonewall and the fight for 2S/LGBTQIA+ rights, it seems the least we can do is clarify there are Christian communities like ours, where we affirm that queer and trans folk are created in the Divine Image. 

In the end, the paper decided not to run my response. And yet for me, it was helpful in a number of ways:

• In writing, I was reminded of how many people have told me that they don't engage with the church because of the judgment they have experienced there
• It reminded me of the importance of being present and embodying an alternative way of being Christian in my local community
• It challenged me to try to find language to discuss these things with an audience beyond churchland
• It pushed me to imagine a future where all people have enough and know that they are enough -- in themselves, and in relationship to God
• It gave me a chance to go through the experience of doubt and nervousness when it came to expressing a different viewpoint in the face of prevailing winds (and still hitting send).

I don't think that my attempt was perfect. But it was an attempt.

This experience gave me an opportunity to practice what it means to be brave, taking one tiny action that sought to join Jesus in his healing work. It wasn’t until after I'd hit send that I remembered Bishop Mary Ann Budde's words, words that I quoted back in May:

“The courage to be brave when it matters most requires a lifetime of small decisions that set us on a path of self-awareness, attentiveness, and willingness to risk failure for what we believe is right.”

One small decision seeking to embody care for neighbour, come what may. One small decision seeking to align my life more and more closely with the way of Jesus. One small opportunity to live into my baptismal covenant, seeking to honour the dignity of our 2S/LGBTQIA+ siblings. One step, one decision, one letter, one word at a time. 

* * * 

Dear Editor - 

I am writing in response to Tom Kline’s Faith column entitled "One Deadly Sin," published online, on June 29, 2025. On the surface, Kline’s column commending the value of humility offers helpful advice for today’s world.

The call to humility is indeed an important call for those who have more than enough and for those who see themselves as better than others. Humility is a call to take off our shoes, to feel the dirt between our toes, and to recognise that we all come from the humus (soil, not the dip). That is to say, a call to humility is a call to live lives well grounded on this good earth, in right relationship with one another. 

Scratching the surface, however, I find myself concerned that the wisdom of humility might be obscured by his focus on the “pride” that “goeth before destruction.” In the midst of Pride Month, this column could easily be read as yet another condemnation of our queer and trans siblings. 

When we Christians wield our power – implicitly or explicitly, knowingly or unknowingly – against those our society already marginalizes, we compound the trauma. And yet it is not the way of Jesus to force others to bear the cross. The way of Jesus calls those who join his movement to embody a way of mutual liberation and love, that with God’s help, our world might break free from the cycles of suffering and violence we both perpetuate and endure. 

Why do we need to be reminded of such things? 

In a country where police-reported hate crimes motivated by sexual orientation have increased nearly 400% since 2016, we cannot turn a blind eye. In such a context, it is not enough to single out the so-called deadly sin of pride without condemning and turning from the truly deadly sins of hatred and violence we inflict upon 2S/LGBTQIA+ folk every day. 

And this, I think, is where I depart from Pastor Tom. 

If Pride is an act of resistance against oppression, it is not a sin. If Pride is an assertion of our right to exist, to love and be loved, it is not a sin. If Pride is to reclaim our sacred dignity and worth, it is not a sin. If Pride is an embodiment of queer joy in the face of all the world has to throw at us, it is not a sin. If Pride is part of our struggle for a world where 2S/LGBTQIA+ folk have the right to exist free from fear, violence, and hate, it is not a sin. How can it be? It’s about claiming what’s been ours from the very beginning.

Some may say that pride comes before the fall. But with the state of the world these days, we need Pride all year long.