Raise it for the dead Cameron Thompson, age 26. Shot in the streets of Chicago, Black and trans, and barely a headline.
Raise it for Dymond “Tayy” Dior Thomas, stabbed in the Bronx. Misgendered in the news. Buried under apathy.
Raise it for the 32 trans and gender-expansive people murdered in America last year, that we know of. And for those whose stories were erased before anyone learned their names.
Raise the flag because Christian nationalism is not Christianity. And hatred wrapped in scripture is still hate.
Raise it because lawmakers are hunting our children with policy. Because bans on gender-affirming care are bans on survival. Because drag bans are not about clothing they are about control.
Raise it because they are legislating closets again. Because they are dragging truth from school libraries and burning it with a prayer. Because they are putting God on a ballot and crucifying Love again.
And Church, if we say nothing, if we do nothing, if we hide behind kindness and compromise then we are not Christ’s body. We are just a comfortable crowd.
So raise the flag. High. Loud. Unashamed.
Raise it for the queer teen on your block who hasn’t yet found the words to say I am. Raise it for the elder in your pew who has carried a lifetime of silence. Raise it for your children, so they know this faith isn’t founded in fear.
Raise it because the Gospel doesn’t whisper, it roars: “Whatever you did to the least of these… you did to me.”
Raise it because Jesus broke the rules to save the brokenhearted. Because he touched what was “unclean,” loved what was “unacceptable,” and flipped the tables of empire.
Raise it because Christ is queer in his rejection, his body, his resurrection.
Raise it because Love is not safe it’s sacred.
Raise it in your church. In your heart. In your vote. In your sermons. In your protest.
Let the flag be our communion cloth in this wounded world.
And if anyone asks why
Tell them: I am raising the flag because the world is setting fires and I will not stand in the ashes and call it peace.
To the ones grieving May you be held.
To the ones rising May you be unstoppable.
To the ones afraid We are holding the line until you’re ready.
And to those with power Repent. Reform. Or step aside. Love is coming… And Love will have the final Word!
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Yes, I did just title this “A Kinda Final Reflection.” Jerusalem, the Holy Land lives within side of me as a transformative subtle haunting, calling me back yet illuminating so much of all that makes up me. I feel myself as clay being morphed and molded in the hands of God’s gentle imprints as cliché…
Originally published: April 19, 2025This is the day between.Between nailed fists and risen hands.Between breath stolen and breath restored.Between empire’s cold triumphand love’s defiant return.We live here—in the ache between crucifixionand resurrection.We walk among the tombs.We carry the spices of mourning.We kneel beside graves with no names.And we whisper to God,“How long?”This is Holy Saturday.Where…
You,with the heart that hearsthe quiet sob between the words,the tremble in the voice before the tears fallyou carry more than most will ever see.You,who stands stillwhen the world moves fast,noticing the shadow behind the smile,the story behind the silenceyou are a sacred kind of rare.Empathyis your native language.You speak in sighs and solace,in glances…
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