This past Tuesday, I traveled to Jefferson City to testify against the removal of the sunset on bills that could permanently ban gender-affirming medical care for trans youth in Missouri and permanently bar trans youth from participating in sports alongside their peers.
What happens in Missouri matters. Many states look to Missouri to see what is possible legislatively, so what gets passed here — and what does not — carries weight far beyond our borders.
As I’ve been reflecting on this week, I keep returning to our theme: By a Different Light. On Sunday, we will talk about day — about how daylight exposes what has been hidden, how it calls things out into the open. And that truth feels especially present right now.
There is a growing number of trans adults, parents of trans kids, and even medical professionals who are afraid to testify publicly against these bills. They are afraid of retaliation, professional consequences, harassment, and real harm. To speak in the light right now comes with real risk.
I am deeply grateful, and humbled, to serve in a role where I can speak not only as a faith leader, but as a trans faith leader, calling our representatives toward a deeper practice of justice, mercy, and compassion. To invite them into holy curiosity about the lives that are most impacted by these decisions. To ask them to truly listen to those who are being harmed.
On Wednesday morning, I also joined dozens of organizations from across the state at a rally in the Capitol rotunda. We linked arms and stood shoulder to shoulder, singing and chanting, reminding one another that we show up for one another. We show up for Black lives. For immigrant lives. For trans lives. For queer lives. For workers’ lives. Because together, our voices carry a deeply moving power.
That rally was deeply needed after the heartbreaking and exhausting hearing on Tuesday. Missourians have been fighting these anti-trans bills for years now, and at times it feels as though those in power have not heard a word, as though harm is dismissed in the pursuit of an agenda at any cost.
And yet, I remain honored to be one voice among many who continue to speak love into the hearing rooms. Love for trans youth who desperately need to know they are not alone. Love for parents doing everything they can to protect their children. Love for trans adults who are not only advocating for today’s youth, but also for the younger versions of themselves, the children who always knew who they were.
For such a time as this, my friends, it is urgent that we keep showing up. Each in the ways we can. Whether that looks like someone who knits blankets for trans folks who testify, wrapping them in warmth and protection. Whether it means traveling to Jefferson City, attending a rally, having hard conversations with loved ones, or choosing to hope even when hope feels fragile and distant and perhaps beyond our reach.
This work is not easy. But it is sacred. And it matters deeply. When we share our light and our love, when we refuse to turn away from one another, we participate in bending the moral arc of the universe toward justice, peace, freedom, and love for all. May we keep showing up. May we keep loving boldly. And may we continue to believe that what we do, as we link arm in arm, truly matters.
In Solidarity,
Pastor Eli