Pride Month Reflections from LGBTQ+ Catholics, Part 5

Earlier this month, we posted an open call for submissions, asking LGBTQ+ Catholics around the world to offer their reflections on Pride Month as a Pilgrimage of Hope. We’ve been deeply moved by the responses we’ve received.  We shared some responses on June 13th,  June 20th,  June 23rd, and June 26th,  Today we’re sharing the final four reflections.  Thanks to all who contributed part of their journeys!

Ocean Zotique

Ocean Zotique (all pronouns) is a co-founder of the Ignatian Q conference, former president of the Fordham University Rainbow Alliance, and the first gender nonbinary person to run for federal office in upstate New York. His is a parishioner at the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Atlanta, Georgia.

This Pride Pilgrimage has been a journey of fierce love and unwavering faith. I’m profoundly proud to be an LGBTQ+ Catholic because my identity, fully embraced, has deepened my understanding of Christ’s boundless compassion. My queer experience has cracked open the narrow confines of traditional interpretations, revealing a God who creates in infinite diversity and loves without condition or judgment.

What sustains my Queer Catholic hope is the “indelible mark” of Confirmation. That sacrament made me a citizen of the Church, a bond no human institution or prejudice can sever. My daily prayer with my fiancé through the Liturgy of the Hours and the Rosary isn’t just ritual; it’s a defiant act of loving Jesus on my terms. My hope is ignited by the knowledge that my faith is a personal relationship, not subject to anyone else’s approval. “Who are they to judge?” is not just a question, but a declaration of spiritual freedom.

Gab Lisi

Gab Lisi (she/he/they), is a Xavier University alum (2019) and holds an M.Div. from Union Theological Seminary (2022).

Most Sundays I cross myself, slip into a pew on the right side of the chapel, and feel two currents run through my body: the solemn joy of a lifelong Catholic and the bright insistence of my queerness. Even as a small child, Communion was my favorite part of Mass; it is God’s habit of drawing near. Pride invites us to do the same—making every threshold a place of encounter rather than exclusion. My hope endures at the intersection of altars and riots: the Eucharist roots me in communion in others and the Jesuit commitment to justice and magis propels me to widen that communion with every march, hymn, and handshake along the way. My grandmother’s rosary, Jesuit mentors, and Eucharistic ministers who offer me the Body of Christ without hesitation all testify that the Church’s deepest truth is welcome, not exclusion. My hope rests there: in a faith spacious enough to hold my whole self, and in a God whose glory shines through all bodies and persons.

Michele Lewis

Michele Lewis (she/her) is a lifelong Catholic, historian, and a transgender woman who is a member of Mary, Seat of Wisdom parish, Chicago/Park Ridge, Illinois.

I was raised in the Faith and educated entirely in Catholic schools from kindergarten through graduate school. I remember being cast as a woman of Jerusalem for the 8th grade Living Stations of the Cross, and my teachersfussed over if it was acceptable for a boy to play such a role.

It wasn’t until I was 25 that I accepted myself as a daughter of God. Before I could find any pride in how God made me, I needed my faith to carry me through my darkest hours. I feared I would lose my life, family, friends, and my Church. While I did end up losing some family and friends, my faith grew stronger. In many ways, accepting myself as a woman was the trial of faith my teachers spoke of during preparations for Confirmation. We are all made in the image and likeness of God. In celebrating Pride, LGBTQ Catholics and our allies are celebrating the true expanse of God’s glory. My faith has a purpose it never had before, and even in these difficult times, I have undying hope for the future.

Juner Sonia Mendoza

Juner Sonia Mendoza (he/elle/they) is a queer, trans man, who is currently health policy researcher, an advocate for marginalized communities, and will be applying to medical school with the hope of becomingto a doctor for the most vulnerable populations in the San Joaquin Valley of California. He is a member of St. Paul Newman Center, Fresno, California.

Four-year-old me knew his identity, and I was still petrified of being trans, for fear of ostracization. One night, I prayed to God to have the courage to come out as a trans man. So, I came out to my parents in 2014, and I was 25 years old. They were loving and accepting. Once I started to transition more, members of the faithful whom I trusted with my identity privately condemned me and told me I shouldn’t receive the Body of Christ. My healing journey started when a priest offered me a hug in the confessional in 2021. The peace of the Holy Spirit came upon me in 2024, and so I underwent top surgery. Each day, I am learning to accept myself. I love being Catholic! My pillars of strength are my love for the Eucharist and the confessional, which have guided me throughout my pilgrimage of pride.

—Francis DeBernardo, New Ways Ministry, June 27, 2025