Justin Fung

When I first started out as a young pastor, over ten years ago, I remember being surprised at the number of parishioners who came out to me. They were at different points of the journey, coming from different church backgrounds, with different baggage, and with different struggles. Some were wanting to know if it was okay to pursue same-sex relationships, others felt called to remain celibate and were trying to figure out how to do it in community; but one thing that each of them held in common in their wrestling was whether God still loved them because they were queer. It was heartbreaking to see, and I knew that my role as a pastor, as a representative of Jesus in those moments, was not to prescribe a particular journey for them but to remind them of God’s deep and unshakeable love for them as ones made in God’s image and children of God.

I grew up in Hong Kong, a city whose culture is, at least in some ways, more conservative than the US—same-sex marriages are still not legally recognized. Thus, I grew up in church settings where heterosexual marriage was just assumed; it was the norm, and there was no need to talk about any alternatives.

What I did learn was a deep love for the Bible as the clearest revelation of Jesus, who in turn is the clearest revelation of God, and vital importance of recognizing every single person as beloved by God. “For God so loved the world …”, after all.

So, years after leaving Hong Kong, when I began to meet LGBTQ folks and then LGBTQ Christians, and especially when I had a pastoral responsibility for those who were coming to me, often in times of great distress and vulnerability, I realized that the theology I had grown up with was inadequate to handle the realities I was being confronted with. I needed to be able to preach and embody a gospel that was good news for everyone, a gospel that at its very heart speaks to our belovedness and our value and our identity.

I have landed in a place that I would describe as affirming, with a heart that strives not just to provide a proclamation and embodiment of that welcome and love to LGBTQ folks, who have so often struggled to find a church community that does not condemn, but also to challenge and walk with others on a journey toward affirmation.

First and foremost, the stories of LGBTQ folks have moved me along the way, not just my friends and the people I pastored, but also those who had been brave enough to share their journeys more publicly.

As a cishet male pastor, I have been shaped by others like me who have walked the journey towards affirmation. One of the key resources, particularly early on, was Ray Anderson’s writings on what he called ‘the tragic.’ He wrote about how we need to not simply have a theology about creation (what was) and new creation (what will be), nor even just of sin (what separates us from God) but also of the tragic, that which defines our limited human existence. What this introduced me to was the idea that the binary system that I had previously held—of something being as God intended on the one hand and of something being sinful on the other—was overly simplistic and inadequate to describe the nuances and complexities of life.

I was also deeply shaped by Pastor Ken Fong’s teachings on God’s welcome to all and how our care for LGBTQ siblings is not just a theological or philosophical exercise but an urgent response to a pastoral emergency. And Ken Wilson’s A Letter to My Congregation was a key resource as I helped our church walk through a process toward inclusion as well.

The church I pastor now is what we describe as “fully inclusive”—a posture we came to a few years ago, which we define as one where all are welcome to serve, engage, and lead at all levels of the church, whether you identify as LGBTQ+, hold a more affirming theology of sexuality or marriage, or hold a more traditional theology of sexuality and marriage. In other words, there is room for everyone.

Coming out of a church that essentially had a Don’t Ask Don’t Tell approach, this felt like the right next step, though I know it is not the place for all. We seek to make room for all those on the journey of becoming more like Jesus, especially reflected in a welcome and inclusion of God’s kingdom. It is a place of continuous growth and learning, of knowing when to step up and knowing when to step back.

And for me, as the lead pastor of a congregation that is becoming, it is essential that the love of God, the character of Christ, and the welcome of the Holy Spirit undergird every aspect of our life together. It is not an easy journey to be on. But I believe we are moving in the right direction.