Meeting Christ in a Rideshare–and in Gaza

Today’s reflection is by Bondings 2.0 contributor Michael Sennett.

Today’s liturgical readings for the Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time can be found here.

One Friday night in Washington, D.C., three gay theologians and I squeezed into a Lyft. Although this might sound like the genesis of a joke, we weren’t heading toward a punchline but a pastoral encounter. We were attending the 2024 Outreach conference hosted at Georgetown University and the activities had wrapped up for the evening. Our driver (I’ll call her Miriam) was cheerful and the car was chirping with small talk.

Out of the blue, Miriam mentioned that she was a transgender woman and shared the joy of her transition with us. Miriam also expressed grief, believing God rejected her. None of us had mentioned the conference or our backgrounds, so we were astounded at the turn our conversation had taken. Collectively, we assured Miriam of God’s unconditional, enduring, liberating love.

“You also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.” True to the counsel of today’s gospel reading, Jesus unexpectedly came forth in our rideshare. Our lamps, however, were lit with the love burning in our hearts. Through our conversation with Miriam, we greeted God on arrival. Moments like this are sacred reminders to LGBTQ+ Catholics that God’s love always shines through darkness.

The vigilance Jesus speaks of in today’s gospel encompasses more than passively waiting for his return; it is an active readiness to meet Christ in all the places He dwells. Jesus is present in all the joy and goodness in the world, and He is no stranger to the suffering. Jesus suffers today in Palestine, where the people have endured decades of illegal occupation, systemic violence, and deliberate displacement.  

To be vigilant is to refuse silence. Today’s first reading, from the Book of Wisdom, recalls God’s liberation of the oppressed in Egypt; today, Palestinians cry out for that same freedom. For nearly 80 years, since the Nakba began in 1947, much of the world has observed in silence as Palestinians are continually exiled from their land, stripped of their dignity and humanity. 

Pope Leo, like his predecessor Francis, has recognized the atrocities being committed and has pleaded for an end to the suffering. Queer Catholics are intimately familiar with silence.  We must elevate the voices of our Palestinian siblings crying out for justice.

In Hebrews, we read that faith is “the realization of what is hoped for.” The Catholic LGBTQ+ community often forges hope in spaces we are told we do not belong, yet we remain vigilant to God’s love for us, and work to transform our Church with that love. Hope in God’s love sustains Palestinians too, amid relentless attempts to erase them. Our hopes are not separate but rise from the same God who promises life in abundance. Sharing in hope deepens our solidarity to one another and calls us to act, that God’s promise of liberation may become visible. Our liberation is dependent on one another. None of us are free until all of us are free.

Vigilance is not fear keeping us awake. Vigilance is love. The readiness of my colleagues and I during our Lyft ride allowed us to meet Jesus in Miriam’s sadness and offer her the truth of God’s boundless love. We are called to bring the same alertness to the suffering in Palestine, responding with God’s love in our struggle for justice and liberation. 

This is the watchfulness the Gospel demands: a refusal to turn away, a commitment to act, and a hope that does not falter. This unwavering hope and steadfast love sustain us, after all, step by step on the path to freedom. 

Fear not, little flock, for the lamp of God’s love is ablaze in each of our hearts, lighting the way to the reign of justice and peace.

—Michael Sennett, August 10, 2025