When All Aren’t Welcome

The challenges of living authentically as a bisexual Christian pastor, military spouse, and mom of queer kids

I live my life with each foot in two separate worlds. They often feel at odds with each other for a variety of personal and professional reasons, and that tension is a part of my daily reality.

In one world, I’m a military spouse who’s been married to my Army chaplain husband (author of the following article) for nearly 20 years.

In the second world, I’m a pastor at a Christian church near where my husband is stationed in Maryland.

And, perhaps counterintuitively, I’m much more comfortable as a bisexual woman with queer kids in the second world than the first.

I grew up in a Christian tradition that taught that all same-sex relationships are sinful (and that women can’t be pastors!). It took me a long time to deconstruct all of that. But in doing so, and re-forming my faith in an Open & Affirming church — meaning affirming of LGBTQIA+ identities in all elements of church life — I am now at a place where my faith and my sexuality are reconciled without question.

It was a long road getting there. At first, I thought if I started changing anything about my beliefs, I’d have nothing left. But the more I learned about the Bible, the more I came to realize that all of those specific verses that people use against LGBTQIA+ people — often aptly referred to as “the clobber passages” due to the pain, abuse, and harm they cause the community — aren’t as clear as they might seem at face value.

Each one of those texts was written for a specific group of people, for a specific purpose, at a specific point in time — and zero of them are about defining consensual, age-appropriate relationships for all time and eternity. If there is one overarching takeaway from those passages, it has less to do with gender, and much more to do with manipulative and unhealthy power dynamics in sex.

In other words, Christians and churches might discriminate, but God’s love doesn’t discriminate — not because of sexual orientation, gender identity, family structure, or any other reason.

Coming to this realization was freeing for me. The church I now pastor celebrates Pride and people who have experienced religious trauma in other churches often find us a safe place to be. In my church, I am very open with who I am, who my family is, and what I believe. That is all celebrated and affirmed. It’s such a great place to be! When I’m with my church members — or other like-minded clergy colleagues — I feel like I can breathe freely, because I have no reason to hide or even worry about what people will think.

I find that same affirmation is much harder to come by with our military peers. Since my husband is a chaplain, for our family “the military” and “the chapel community” are nearly one-and-the-same. While so many chaplains are lovely and kind, and some are even affirming of my family, many aren’t.

I’ve had experiences with military chaplains and their spouses, in which it became clear they didn't think I was a “real” Christian, because their interpretation of the Bible doesn’t allow for people like me. Some have told me this to my face, while others prefer to keep their distance. I was kicked out of a chaplains’ wives Facebook group explicitly because of this. And as difficult as that is for me, I’m in a straight-passing marriage and don’t often experience the discrimination that others with more visible queer identities do.

This lack of acceptance doesn’t just impact me. My kids were once invited to an on-post, chapel-sponsored youth group and I immediately asked if my nonbinary child’s correct pronouns (they/them) would be used. While the leader smiled and said that “everyone is welcome,” she also made it clear that they would not support my child’s identity.

The same is true of other general Protestant groups associated with the chapel. While they might try to find more common ground theologically than local churches, if you look into their organizational documents, they are explicitly anti-LGBTQIA+.

I even wrote a guide on my website to decipher what your church believes, since these experiences of unexpected discrimination are so common. Below is an overview of some of the questions I recommend starting with to determine if a church is adequately welcoming.

When I was a newer military spouse, I kept all of these thoughts and concerns inside. I was active in the chapel community, but I slowly realized it was not a good — or safe — fit for me. Then, several years ago, I came out as bisexual publicly on social media. I felt that it was very important to increase bi+ visibility, because so many people think they don’t personally know any LGBTQIA+ Christians.

I made an offer in that post for people to safely come out to me, knowing that I would not out them to anyone else. If anyone needed practice saying the words, to think through how to tell loved ones, or just to say it out loud one time because they couldn’t safely anywhere else, they could reach out to me. In the following year, I had over two dozen people take me up on that offer.

Most interestingly, I also received private messages from multiple military friends — including chaplains’ spouses – who said they didn’t know what to do because their child, cousin, or sibling was coming out. They never had to reconcile their faith with their beliefs on sexuality before and they wondered how I was able to do so. While I wish it didn’t take the coming out of someone close to them to wrestle with these questions, I believe it’s never too late. The best we can do is to be better tomorrow than we were yesterday.

I still enjoy Army chaplain spouse coffees and other events. Many chaplain spouses are dear friends. And yet, this world of military life that I partially occupy still feels constrictive.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s getting better. The chapel community is more inclusive now than it was two decades ago when I first stepped foot in one, and I believe that trajectory will continue. More civilian churches are becoming affirming and faith communities where all identities are affirmed are growing. My fervent hope is that, in the coming years, more and more military chapel communities will become affirming, so that all service members and their families — whatever that family structure — can worship without discrimination.

While I came out because I knew people in my life had never known an openly queer Christian; I’m aware that perhaps others have never met an openly queer Christian. If that’s you, “Hi! I’m Sara. I’m a bisexual Christian military spouse with queer kids. I live my life in two worlds, and both are just as real and valid.”