Transgender Catholic Envisions a Church for Everyone

“Our church needs to welcome everyone—not just transgender persons or LGBTQ people—but everyone, including all those on the margins. It doesn’t matter whether you’re rich or poor, what you look like or where you come from.”

Christine Zuba

This is what Christine Zuba, a transgender Catholic and Eucharistic minister, believes the Catholic Church should set its sights on as the political narrative surrounding trans people grows more fraught. Writing for Outreach about her experience as a trans Catholic, Zuba believes the Catholic faith was “born on” the inclusion of those on the fringes of society: 

“St. John the Baptist, who proclaimed Jesus’s coming, wore camel-skin clothes and a leather belt, and ate locusts and honey in the desert. In other words, John was different. Obviously, I’m not saying he was transgender or LGBTQ, but he was definitely “different.” Later, Jesus himself ministered to those who were “different,” to those whom others would not talk to nor walk with.”

It is essential, Zuba insists, for the clergy as well as lay people to truly “encounter” trans people, to listen and learn, as Jesus did. “Our lives are real,” she writes. “We are not a source of scandal or confusion…. We are human beings with dignity.”

This plea is especially apt as many organizations, even the church, scramble away from anything that seems “pro-transgender.” Zuba recounts a specific instance in which two separate parishes scheduled a friend of hers to speak to their LGBTQ ministries. “At the last minute,” Zuba says, “the diocese stepped in to halt both presentations.” Both presentations were able to happen anyway at other, non-Catholic venues.

It isn’t just the church responding to an atmosphere of fear and doubt. Zuba describes our present historical moment  as a “very scary and worrisome time” for all LGBTQ+ Americans, and transgender Americans in particular. Though trans people make up less than 1% of the population, the media shines a disproportionately large spotlight on them. Various legislation makes it difficult for them to use the bathroom they prefer, gain access to gender-affirming care or play certain sports. In states like Florida, it might become illegal for employers to discipline employees for anti-trans discrimination. 

In this climate, many trans people look to the church and its leaders for comfort and guidance.

The church, Zuba says, is listening and learning from transgender parishioners in many places, and must continue to resist the tide of anti-trans sentiment:

“More and more ‘people in the pews’—at least in the United States—are coming to know us. On the local levels, more pastors, deacons, bishops, cardinals, members of religious orders and Catholic lay leaders are listening in order to better understand us.”

Pope Francis, in the waning years of his life, met with transgender Catholics monthly in order to “listen and learn.” Zuba says it is those who “refuse to encounter” who cause “confusion” and mistrust. When trans people do not share their lived experiences, or when others don’t hear them, that gap is filled by fear and untruth. “Perhaps everyday,” she says, “should be a Transgender Day of Visibility. We cannot allow others to dictate the narrative of our own lives.”

Zuba says the church could, and should, become an important lifeline for its trans parishioners. She reiterates that “on both a national and worldwide level, we desperately need the voices of Catholic leaders to help us raise our voices.”  And her message to other trans people is to “stay visible and, most importantly, stay safe, confident in our knowledge that God loves us deeply.”

—Lynnzee Dick, New Ways Ministry, January 19, 2026