A Queer Prom, A Still Voice, and A Stormy Faith

Today’s reflection is by Bondings 2.0 contributor Allison Connelly-Vetter.

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

For the past four years, the Center for Sustainable Justice in Minneapolis, has thrown a big, gay party called the Totally Fabulous, All-Generations Queer Prom. The Queer Prom has it all: a live DJ, dancing, drag performers, a photobooth, balloon animals, and snacks for days. This intergenerational and sober event brings the entire community together, and everyone shows up in their own way. Over the years I’ve spied a toddler with fistfuls of fruit snacks chasing disco-ball balloons, a recently-out trans elder trying on high heels for the first time, and beaming teenagers in full-length glittery ballgowns waving dollar bills at the drag queens. 

The Queer Prom is hosted by a coalition of local churches and other faith communities, and I have the delight of serving on its planning team. This year, as the event was held in one of the churches, I chatted with a parent of two young kids, who were having the time of their lives in the sanctuary where we were all dancing. The parent gestured at the church’s old stained glass windows and said, “Jesus and drag — the way it should be!”

When I read the stories of Elijah and Peter in today’s liturgical readings, my understanding of what the parent meant became much clearer. I think you’ll understand more clearly as well when we explore the readings themselves.

 In our first reading, God tells Elijah that God will soon be passing by the cave where the prophet is in hiding. Soon after, a strong and heavy wind sweeps by, followed by an earthquake, followed by a fire. But Elijah is wise to God’s ways, and knows that God is not in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire. Finally, Elijah hears a tiny whispering sound. When he hears this, he recognizes that God has arrived, and goes to the entrance of the cave. 

In our Gospel today, Peter and his friends also have a moment of recognition. They are out in a boat on rough waters in the middle of the night whenthey believe they see a ghost approaching, walking on the waves. They are terrified. But it is no ghost — it is Jesus, who identifies himself to the disciples to calm their fears. Unconvinced, Peter tests Jesus: “If it really is you, tell me to walk to you on the water.” At Jesus’ invitation, Peter starts walking towards him on the water. But when he realizes how strong the wind and waves are, he begins to sink. When he calls out to Jesus for help, Jesus saves him, saying, “Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Then everyone in the boat recognizes Jesus and proclaims, “Truly, you are the Son of God. “

Like many of us, I grew up hearing this story about Jesus walking on water, and I always heard Jesus asking Peter why he doubted, his God-bestowed ability to walk on water. But reading it today, I am more inclined to think Jesus was asking Peter why he had doubted Jesus’ identity.

When it comes to my own ability to recognize God, I would like to believe that I am more similar to Elijah than I am to Peter. After all, Elijah seems to identify God so clearly and confidently, while Peter is quicker to test and doubt. Surely, if I were in that cave, I would not be distracted by the wind or earthquake or fire. Surely, if I were in that boat, I would trust Jesus when I heard his voice. 

However, as a queer person of faith, I have often been distracted by lies told to me about God and about myself. I have been told that God will send me to hell. I have been told that I’m a sinner, and “intrinsically disordered.” I have been told that God doesn’t want me to get married, or have a family. I have been told how wonderful it is that my queer wedding could never take place in a Catholic church. Maybe you’ve been told lies like that, too. 

It would be easy to believe that God is in those lies. After all, they are shared with such conviction. But those lies are like the wind, and the earthquake, and the fire: they are distractions, they are destructive, and they have nothing whatsoever to do with God. 

As I’ve become more comfortable reconciling my faith and my queerness, I recognize God more easily. I can more often distinguish the affirming voice of Jesus, coming to calm my fears, from the “ghosts” of homophobia, cruelty, and violence. I can more naturally notice God’s whisper at the mouth of the cave, reassuring me after the latest tumultuous round of manufactured political theatrics. I am much less likely to be distracted by the anti-LGBTQ+ religious protesters at Pride, and much more likely to find Jesus with the drag queens at the Queer Prom. 

The Totally Fabulous, All-Generations Queer Prom happens once a year, but we are called to identify God within and among us each and every day. I pray that God would clear away the distractions and lies in your life that keep from being your full, authentic self. I pray that God would be close to you and save you when forces around you try to drag you down. And I pray that you would find God, pay attention to God, and hold onto God, wherever you recognize God. Because God will always, always, recognize you — exactly as you are. 

—Allison Connelly-Vetter, August 9, 2026