Tim Otto is pastor of Church of the Sojourners in San Francisco, California, an intentional community that lives and serves together: “We believe God intends Christians to live out the pursuit of holiness not just individually but with a people, with a local church.” The community offers an apprenticeship program, where one can apply to join this unique fellowship for a year, as well as discern a long-term commitment. Tim, who is gay and theologically affirming of same-sex relationships, discerned a vow of celibacy in 2009 in order to devote himself to ministry. He has long given his life to serving others. As a Registered Nurse he was one of the first to work with AIDS patients. He has pastored Sojourners while simultaneously serving the broader San Francisco community.
Tim grew up in the Baptist church as a missionary kid (MK). Being an MK had its challenges, including attending seventeen different schools before he graduated high school. But Tim held fast to his Christian faith and began looking for ways to make a difference in the world from a young age, whether serving immigrants or teaching English through World Relief. In an article he wrote for Plough, he says, “Love perseveres in spite of failure, and humbly seeks forgiveness and love from God and others – and to forgive and love others – for the thousandth time. Love is rare because it is so difficult. At the Simple Way, a community known for service to its poor neighborhood, the participants say, ‘The most radical thing we do is choose to love each other…again and again.’” Tim has a Master of Theological Studies (MTS) degree from Duke Divinity School and has authored two books: Inhabiting the Church: Biblical Wisdom for a New Monasticism (co-authored with Jon Stock and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove) and Oriented to Faith: Transforming the Conflict Over Gay Relationships.
Listen to Tim Otto talk about the church and living in community in this podcast episode with pastor Tom of Sycamore Church.
One of the most amazing people that has changed history for the better, and yet who most people have never heard of, is Pauli Murray (1910-1985). I first learned about Pauli when I lived in Durham, North Carolina, which happens to be the hometown of this remarkable Christian. Across Durham, you will find beautiful murals of Pauli tucked away in various parts of the city, along with a childhood home still standing and now preserved as The Pauli Murray Center for History and Social Justice. It’s the home where Pauli was sent to live with relatives after becoming an orphan at the age of three.
Pauli experienced tremendous adversity from both racial and sex discrimination, including being barred from enrollment at the University of North Carolina for being Black and later being barred from Harvard for being a woman. Pauli also experienced the stress of being attracted to the same-sex and gender atypical at a time when both were taboo (looking for answers, an exploratory surgery was performed to discern if an intersex condition was present). Pauli persevered, eventually graduating from Yale Law School (1965) and is credited by Thurgood Marshall as the influence behind the arguments that overturned segregation laws. Ruth Bader Ginsburg (RBG) similarly credits Pauli with the arguments in Reed v. Reed, a landmark Supreme Court case that ruled against sex discrimination. Pauli was many things: a lawyer, poet, human rights advocate, professor, and pastor. This brief description doesn’t begin to do justice. I was awestruck reading Pauli’s autobiography, Song in a Weary Throat, which is rich with major historical events that Pauli was actively involved in. A true history maker.
A life-long Christian, Pauli entered seminary at the age of 62 and helped to overturn a ban on the ordination of women in the Episcopal church. In one interview Pauli said, “If you want to talk in theological terms, I would say I have been led, guided, and directed all my life. This door was closed so this door would open. I’ve always been more or less a devout Christian . . . I take very little credit for the things I’ve done except . . . that I’ve been responsive to the Holy Spirit.” To meet Pauli, watch the excellent new documentary My Name is Pauli Murray (available on Prime). The trailer is below:
I first encountered B. T. Harman through his amazing podcast called Blue Babies Pink, which tells the story of what it’s like to grow up in the Bible Belt and realize you are gay. Later, I was able to get to know him in-person through LGBTQ Christian leadership circles. His story, Blue Babies Pink, is truly riveting. Thousands of people have listened to it or read the blog version. Episodes of the podcast have been downloaded more than a million times and it reached #1 on iTunes Religion/Spirituality chart. The story has been transformative for many people who listen to it.
B. T. Harman was born in Texas, but raised in Alabama after his family moved there when he was just six years old. As the son of a Baptist preacher, B. T. has a strong Christian faith and still attends a Baptist church in Atlanta, where he lives with his husband, Brett. For many years, B. T. worked for Booster, an organization that helps schools raise much needed funds. With his corporate team, he raised millions of dollars for elementary schools. In 2016, he launched his own speaking and consulting business, which includes teaching others storytelling for creative campaigns, leadership skills, as well as addressing LGBTQ concerns. One of the outreaches he started is Harbor, which provides support and education for parents of LGBTQ people.
But most recently, B. T. has become smitten with the Camino de Santiago, a network of walking routes popular with Christians on pilgrimage. After taking more than one pilgrimage himself, he foundedCamino Made.Is he about to start taking others on the journey? If so, I might be the first to sign up!
To get to know B. T. and be inspired by his story, click on the image below to get started.
I first met Pastor Candace Hardnett about four or five years ago through ministry connections, and I was immediately struck by her deep passion for Christ. Pastor Candace was born and raised in a small Virginia town. After serving in the Marines, she planted a church called Agape Empowerment Ministries, which she has served for the past fourteen years. She also started a podcast called Godly and Gay. In 2021, she created a popular TikTok channel that uses humor to challenge prejudice against LGBTQ people. Pastor Candace and her wife, Erika, have three daughters and live in Savannah, Georgia.
Trust me, you do not want to miss this encouraging word from Pastor Candace. Click on the video below to listen to her sermon entitled, “I’m Still Standing.” She starts preaching about the 15 min 24 second mark. But, I encourage you to enjoy the worship from the beginning (opening prayer and singing). It will encourage your heart as well. If the challenges of life have you down, the Holy Spirit can lift you up.
One of my favorite sermons is by a dear friend of mine, Matthew Vines, who directs a non-profit ministry called The Reformation Project. Matthew was born and raised in Wichita, Kansas. In his late teens, he headed off to Massachusetts to attend college at Harvard. But, while there, he began to wrestle with the question of faith and sexuality. The burden reached such a point that he left school to return home. Over the next six months, his dad and mom compassionately studied the issue alongside him. (Go parents!) The result of that discernment process led both Matthew and his family to accept his reality as a gay man.
Matthew has a deep love for God, Scripture, and the church. In fact, those three things drive his ministry work, which seeks to create greater understanding of LGBTQ people and encourage churches to fully include sexual and gender minorities into fellowship and active leadership. At the last Reformation Project Conference, Matthew preached a classic gospel message entitled, “Yesterday, Today, and Forever: The Heart of Christianity.” I hope it will encourage you, as much as it encouraged me.
For many of us who grew up in the church, our experience as sexual or gender minorities was not well understood. Our difference set us apart, making it difficult at times to know how to forge a path forward. It wasn’t until my senior year of college that I met any Christian LGBTQ mentors. They were all individuals I met at an ex-gay ministry (where a college counselor had referred me). They guided me in the same way their own mentors had—toward sexual orientation change efforts. While I eagerly worked the program, I became increasingly depressed when that change did not occur. After several years of running on that treadmill, I was left with no other option but to gather a few peers who also knew we needed another path. When we started the celibate gay movement, we had no role models. And several years later, when I became theologically affirming of same-sex relationships, I still had no role models in my life.
It’s not that Christian history does not have such role models. But, I didn’t know about them in my corner of the world. Curating a library of resources concerning this history is one endeavor that the Bakos Project hopes to undertake. But for now, I have started a blog series entitled “Uncommon Saints,” where I introduce you to Christian LGBTQ folk who deeply love Jesus, people like Tim Otto, Pauli Murray, B. T. Harman, Candace Hardnett, Matthew Vines, Amie Tyler, and many others. By starting the Bakos Project initiative, Sally Gary and I also hope to serve as role models for the next generation. Watch the Bakos Project blog for profiles of Uncommon Saints, and access the full archive. May your heart be encouraged and your faith strengthened.
One of the first references to the Ethiopian Eunuch (Acts 8:26-40) outside the Bible is from early church father Irenaeus, who wrote, “This man was also sent into the regions of Ethiopia, to preach what he had himself believed” (Against Heresies 3:12:8). According to Irenaeus, God appointed the eunuch as an evangelist to preach the gospel, teaching Ethiopians about Jesus from the Scriptures, including the book of Isaiah and other prophetic books.
To this day, he is honored by Ethiopian Christians for bringing Christianity to their part of the world. The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church calls him Bakos (spelled ባኮስ in Amharic; also spelled Bachos). The Russian Orthodox call him Djan Darada. Recently the Episcopal Church commemorated the eunuch under the name Simeon Bachos. This latter combination of names comes from the conflation of the Ethiopian eunuch with “Simeon called Niger” (Act 13:2; NIV). But, while they were both Black, Simeon is not the same person as the eunuch.
Image of Bakos by Karen R. Keen & DALL-E 2023
In the book of Acts, we meet Bakos on a desert road that extends from Jerusalem down to Gaza, as he travels south to his home in north Africa. His love of God had spurred him to make the long journey to Jerusalem to worship there. As a eunuch, he was normally barred from entering “the assembly of the Lord” (Deut 23:1). This meant not only exclusion from the Temple, but also from full participation in the civic life of God’s people. Nevertheless, Bakos was not deterred and went to great lengths in his pursuit of the LORD.
Apparently in Jerusalem, Bakos purchased a scroll of Isaiah. As a treasurer in the royal court in Ethiopia, he was literate. But, as an outsider, he did not have access to a Jewish education. He had no one to explain Isaiah 53 to him, the passage he was reading on the way home. Nevertheless, Bakos was not deterred and persisted in his quest to understand the Scriptures. Possibly, he also read a few chapters ahead to Isaiah 56:3-8, where the prophetic vision gives a hopeful revelation that even the eunuch has a place with God after all.
Most likely, the remarkable appearance of Philip, the apostle, who showed up to teach Bakos, was an answer to the Ethiopian’s prayer. As he studied the text and puzzled over it, no doubt he whispered, “God, help me to understand this. I want to know you and follow you.” God heard his prayer. More than that, God revealed to Philip and Bakos that even a eunuch and gentile was to be welcomed into the assembly. When the eunuch saw a body of water, he asked Philip, “What can stand in the way of my being baptized?” (v. 36). The answer? Nothing. Nothing and no one could stand in the way of his baptism into the Body of Christ.
We don’t know Bakos’s sexual orientation or gender identity. But we do know he was a sexual minority. He was unable to conform to physical and social norms expected of males. Not only were his genitals different from other males, having been castrated, but the procedure likely occurred prior to puberty, impacting the hormones in his body. Deprived of testosterone, he did not go through puberty to develop secondary sex characteristics. Socially, he was unable to conform to certain familial and procreative expectations that Jewish and Greco-Roman society normally placed on men. In other words, Bakos looked and sounded different from other men and could not perform socially or sexually in the same way as other men. The castration (without anesthesia) would have been traumatic for any child and had a lasting impact on his life.
But despite his difference—or more likely because of it—Bakos sought after God. He traveled long distances to worship, studied the Scriptures intensely, and was baptized following a confession of faith. He was one of the first gentile converts to Christianity and was chosen by God to reach the people of Ethiopia. Bakos is an example of how God welcomes sexual and gender minorities into the Body of Christ. Not only that, but also the life of Bakos reveals that God calls the “eunuchs” of this world to serve as leaders in the Church.
Note: I have chosen the spelling “Bakos” based on an academic paper by an Ethiopian author who states, “As Ethiopian exegetic scholars suggest, the proper name of the Ethiopian eunuch is traditionally known as Melchizedek or Bakos” (Andualem Dagmawi Gobena, “Mariology in Soteriology,” [St. Michael’s College, 2006], 2, fn 3). In recent years, the name “Simeon Bachos” was edited into Irenaeus’s quote concerning the eunuch, leading to the common erroneous assumption that Irenaeus called the eunuch by that name; he did not. The name Bakos has an Ethiopian Christian origin.
