How LGBTQ-Friendly Churches Are Tackling The Trump Era
LOS ANGELES — On an ordinary Sunday, the Rev. Canon Susan Russell leads worship at All Saints Church in Pasadena. But on Feb. 2, as she stepped to the podium to deliver her sermon, it felt anything but ordinary.
Her sermon, “When Climate Crises Collide,” first acknowledged the devastating wildfires in Los Angeles, pointing out that they were exacerbated by climate change. Several All Saints parishioners lost their homes to the Eaton Fire, and the church has been fundraising on their behalf.
The second part of her sermon, however, acknowledged another climate crisis — a “cultural climate crisis” since President Donald Trump took office on Jan. 20. Her speech minced no words, calling out the surge of Christian nationalism, erosion of civic discourse, targeting of marginalized communities.
“It feels like it’s been a year and it hasn’t even been a month,” Russell said. “It's demoralizing to listen to the rhetoric rolling down, particularly for me as a priest and pastor, when so much of it is framed and couched in Christian nationalist diatribes that, from my perspective, hijack the good news of God’s inclusive love for Jesus and turn it into a weapon of mass discrimination.”
All Saints is one of several Christian churches in Los Angeles to provide a home for marginalized communities, particularly the LGBTQ+ community which Russell is a part of.
Mission Hills Christian Church, another LGBTQ+-affirming congregation, is also tackling social issues head-on, despite growing threats amid the second Trump era.
Since taking office, Trump has issued executive orders to acknowledge only the sexes of male and female, ban transgender people from military service, restrict gender-affirming care and end government DEI programs. He’s also issued nearly 30 executive orders curtailing immigration, and the Department of Homeland Security recently reversed longtime policies restricting Immigration and Customs Enforcement from making arrests in certain locations, including schools, hospitals and churches.
All Saints has a long history of supporting oppressed groups. In the 1940s, their chief pastor protested the deportation of Japanese Americans; in the 1960s, their White clergy stood alongside Martin Luther King Jr. at the Los Angeles “Rally for Freedom. In the 1970s, the church spoke out against the Vietnam War. Today, Russell speaks out against Trump.
In 2005, All Saints was subject to an IRS investigation after its former rector, the Rev. George F. Regas, strongly criticized the war in Iraq during a sermon that took place preceding the 2004 presidential election. The investigation looked into violations of the Johnson Amendment, a provision in U.S. tax code that prohibits 501(c)(3) nonprofit organizations from endorsing or opposing political candidates.
All Saints was able to maintain its tax-exempt status, and Russell notes that she and the church fully support the amendment. However, it’s on the back of her mind when she’s preaching today.
“We preach values in alignment with the Gospel as we understand it, which is protected by the First Amendment, not partisan politics aligned with the rise of toxic Christian nationalism,” Russell said. “We are in uncharted territory regarding the impact of what a government in free fall into fascism will have on all our freedoms — including the fundamental freedom of religion.”
Episcopalians, unlike other Christian denominations, do not understand the Bible as the literal word of God.
Russell uses the Bible, in tandem with other sources of authority, to fulfill the greatest commandment: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
“I believe that Scripture is the living word of God. I do not believe it's the literal words of God,” Russell said. “That frees us up to also consider other sources of authority, like science, like data, like experience. For some folks who read the Bible and take texts literally from thousands of years ago, at a time when we had absolutely no understanding of even human biology, and then decide based on that they're going to make decisions about people's gender identity or sexual orientation, that’s not how we read Scripture.”
Russell boldly professes her views — she is loud and speaks clearly. She commands the podium, and her congregation eagerly hangs on to her every word. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t difficult.
Every day, the church is subject to some form of hate, which has worsened since the current administration took office.
“It's an unusual day we don’t get at least a voicemail or an email,” Russell said. “When we get that kind of pushback … it's what we call the cost of discipleship.”
Ryan Pryor, lead pastor at Mission Hills Christian Church, faces similar challenges.
The congregation, which belongs to the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) denomination, welcomes people of all gender identities, sexual orientations, abilities, ethnicities, economic statuses and faiths.
Pryor started at Mission Hills in 2016, the same year Trump won his first presidential election.
The church made its progressive stance known during the campaign, putting up signs and rainbow flags, a show of support for equality that provoked pushback from its Christian community.
“It was like the curtain had been pulled back and it was all of the xenophobic, racist, homophobic rhetoric,” he said.
Since 2016, Mission Hills has been subject to hate, death threats and dozens of instances of people showing up to the property. The church has hosted conversations regarding LGBTQ+ inclusion, racism and other social issues, despite nonmembers disrupting them. During multiple Sunday services, Mission Hills had hired security.
“We had one person, I remember he brought this giant red-painted … rock. It had some Bible verse written on it,” Pryor said. “That was one of the most eerie feelings I ever got. He went back into his car after our conversation was over, and I was ready for him to bring a gun in.”
Despite growing concerns about safety and security, both Mission Hills and All Saints make it a priority to protect their most vulnerable congregants. Mission Hills partners with Somos Familia Valle, a local LGBTQ+ community organization, for volunteer work and pride events. It also works with the Social Impact Center in the San Fernando Valley, which hosts “Know Your Rights” events regarding immigration policy.
While All Saints is currently focused on fire relief, it has a continued commitment to the Sacred Resistance Task Force, a network of over 130 congregations that resist policies that target and harm immigrant communities. The church also runs a weekly LGBTQ+ support group and offers pastoral care and counseling.
When speaking to Russell, it’s evident she pours everything she has into her congregation. However, amid this new cultural crisis, she also fears for herself. Russell has been married to her wife for 15 years and now worries whether her marriage will remain valid.
“Neighbor means neighbor. There’s no asterisk that says unless your neighbor falls into a category that you don't agree with,” Russell said. “You don't love your neighbor by discriminating against them, denying them gender-affirming health care, deporting them and separating their family.”
Grace Galante is a freelance journalist based in California. She is also a master's journalism student at the University of Southern California.