Faith as a beacon of Black resistance and LGBTQ+ liberation

Author: Rochelle Washington

I am profoundly reminded of the sacred bond between Black history and faith this Black History Month. How both have been integral in our advancement towards equality. For centuries, faith has been more than a spiritual practice for the Black community—it has been our sanctuary, source of strength, our never-empty well of hope, our place of community, and one of the most potent tools in our fight for liberation. The church was always more than a house of worship. It was in its pews, prayer circles, and among those choirs that some of our greatest movements were imagined into reality.

From the hymns of our ancestors to the faith passages interwoven into Martin Luther King Jr.’s words, faith has always carried a radical message. Its message of belonging, rooted in hope, has been woven into the fabric of Black history and continues to blanket us in hope today. But for some who sit at many intersections of identity, myself included, the church can impress that we are unworthy to be fully enveloped by faith’s warmth and protection.

Growing up as a Black lesbian woman in a church that celebrated my Blackness but condemned my queerness, and even my womanness, felt like a contradiction too heavy to bear. I learned to belong in the background—in the choir and fellowship hall—but never in the pulpit. In my entire time in the church, I have never had a female pastor or queer pastor. Anyone who was openly gay, lesbian, or queer was shunned, asked to hide themselves, or only tolerated because they were musicians. For my well-being, I realized that I had to remove myself from that environment of exclusion in search of complete acceptance and liberation.

And yet, faith never abandoned me, especially in my fight for belonging. It continued to call me back—not to the spaces that had harmed me, but to a place of true acceptance and unconditional love. I was fortunate to find a church that embraced my whole self. In 2024, I was able to create the change I wanted to see in the world and became ordained in the United Church of Christ, making me the first Black queer woman to have that honor.

I reclaimed my faith, not just for me, but for all who had been cast out or told parts of their identities did not belong in the room. I stand on the shoulders of bold and brilliant leaders, such as Bishop Yvette Flunder and Rev. Canon Kelly Brown Douglas, who have shown by example what a liberated faith can look like. Their courage is my inheritance, calling me into a present and future where our identities’ fullness is acknowledged and celebrated.

Faith has always been and still is a revolutionary force. It was the heartbeat of the civil rights movement, the backbone of every march, protest, and demand for racial justice. My hope is to see it leading a new charge for LGBTQ+ equality.

For the Black queer community that I serve, I am reminded of Galatians 3:28, which was quoted in Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have A Dream” speech: There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.

The church continues to have more work to do. It must rise above tolerance and step into radical love and vocal support. “Toleration” falls far short of true acceptance—it cannot mend the wounds caused by centuries of exclusion. The church must evolve—our faith spaces must be more than sanctuaries. They must be centers of change.

Black history is alive—it remains a call to action. It reminds us that we come from a lineage of people who have faced impossible odds yet have always risen. Faith, at its core, is our history’s partner in resistance. It fuels our activism, nurtures our spirits, and compels us to dream of a world where love is the loudest voice.

Our work is still not done. Amos 5:24 says, “No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.” This Black History Month, I invite us all to carry forward the faith of our ancestors. This faith dismantles oppression and builds a bridge to a future where everyone belongs. Let us allow faith to show us that there is love in liberation.

Rochelle “Shelley” Washingtonis the Service Director for The Normal Anomaly Initiative. Shelley advocates for community empowerment, transitioning from a 20-year career in education. Inspired by her involvement in The Normal Anomaly program, Project Liberate Cohort 3, she founded Be Owt Ministries, a nonprofit focused on financial literacy and resource allocation for underserved communities. Shelley is an avid faith leader who educates, equips, and encourages people to experience the Divine. Shelley Washington was the first Black queer woman to be ordained at St. Peter United in 2024.

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Original Article on The Advocate
Author: Rochelle Washington