Pride as Ministry

Trevor reflects on more than 20 years of witnessing London Pride, sharing how offering visible Christian welcome and affirmation at St James’s Piccadilly has become a powerful ministry of love, healing, and belonging for LGBTQ+ people.

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Sometimes I have to pinch myself! That this wee city boy from Scotland gets to take part in London Pride and has witnessed this joy for over 20 years now.

I know there are fears of backlash from social conservatives. The recent TV series from Russell T. Davies (‘Tip Toe’) is a stark reminder to all liberals that the tolerance and acceptance of LGBTQ+ people shouldn’t be taken for granted.

However, today I want to set such concerns to the side and focus on the joy and goodness of the Pride celebrations here at St James’s Piccadilly.

A few years ago, Revd Daniel and I carved out a new role for ourselves on Pride March Day, coinciding with the route returning along Piccadilly, right past the church. We produced placards to affirm God’s love of everyone (no exceptions!). Daniel donned his clerical collar and the two of us stood on the mid-street isle and waited for the parade to pass by…

The response was extraordinary. So many marchers reacted positively to our presence with smiles, heart signs. Some broke out of the march, coming over to shake our hands, to give us a hug, to tell us how much it meant to read our messages of love.

We soon learned that we couldn’t, and shouldn’t, just be passive spectators of the parade. I started shouting ‘Happy Pride!’ towards some marchers. They beamed and returned the greeting. Many couldn’t believe that Daniel was a real priest; they were so inured to the idea that church people hate queers.

Pride Month is about affirmation but it’s also about loving your neighbour. So many LGBTQ+ people bear scars from their past and their present. One of the most important aspects of Pride March is to provide support for marchers and spectators alike.

A couple of years ago, the march paused just as the Royal Navy section was passing SJP.  We shouted our greetings and other spectators joined in. For one of the young ratings, it was cathartic and he started to weep. He wasn’t unhappy; he was overwhelmed. So many LGBTQ+ people have ingested the idea that they’re unlovable. We know that’s not true and Pride includes the (sacred) purpose of contradicting the voices of hate.

This year, a mother came over to Revd Matilda and me for a hug. She was distressed because the religious haters at the start of the march had told her that her lesbian daughter would be going to hell.  It meant so much to her to be reminded that the love of Christ is for all.

Now, the presence of SJP people out on the street of Piccadilly, shouting greetings to the Pride marchers, is an established thing. And we talk to nearby spectators. They understand why we’re there.

I’m mindful that what we do on the street is just a part of the wonderful work of Pride of St. James’s. I have so much admiration for Kate and her team. The way that the celebrations now embrace the whole site is truly uplifting.

So, now it’s Sunday afternoon and my voice is still a bit croaky after 6 hours of shouting but I hope I’ve given you a flavour of my experience of volunteering at Pride. At one point yesterday, I was eulogising to Revd Ayla about the whole thing and they simply said, “This is ministry”.  And I was a little overwhelmed…almost to tears.