Preaching to the Choir

“You’re preaching to the choir” I was told nearly one hundred times during the afternoon I stood in a blocked-off lane in Indianapolis this past Saturday. My timing could not have been more perfect as I’d arrived at the end of the eucharistic procession which was the largest such North American Catholic event in the 21st century, and I’d positioned myself between the Indianapolis Convention Center and Lucas Oil Stadium where nearly every one of the 50,000 attendees would need to walk on foot in order to continue their day’s activities.

Around my neck hung a hand-painted poster blazoned with the colors of the transgender flag and printed with the slogan “KIDS CAN NOT CHANGE SEX.” Tens of thousands walked past me, many nodding, giving me a thumbs-up, fist-bumping, high-fiving, and thanking me for being there. Some said “That is the truth,” and I said “Thank you for saying so out loud” as I believe many people, including those attending the National Eucharistic Congress, would blanch at saying such a simple and true thing in front of friends, neighbors, and co-workers. It is right to recognize people who will speak the truth.

Some people would tell me “Adults can’t change sex either!” and I would acknowledge their correctness. However, my primary concern is with children, as they are innocent and cannot be accountable for what is done to them. In 2023 a group of progressive Indianapolis churches organized in an attempt to block a law that would have regulated sex-changing medical procedures in children. A coalition of 60 faith organizations was led by the Episcopalian Reverend Gray Lesesne of Christ Church Cathedral in Indianapolis who brought the clerics to the Indiana Statehouse to sing hymns in prayer that God would preserve the right of hospitals to medically interfere with the healthy sexual development of children. In response, I drafted the before-mentioned sign and brought it to the very next day the church held services, which happened to be Palm Sunday. This sign was created for a specific purpose but has been recycled for a broader purpose.

Throughout the day I was approached by parents and teachers who were struggling with family and work stress caused by gender identity ideology. A woman made the sign of the cross before my sign, and I intuited that she was especially affected by it. I asked if her family was suffering because of gender identity problems, and she told me her adult son in his senior year of college began identifying as a woman. I told her I hoped her son would return home soon. And then I heard another story–a niece. Then a nephew. A daughter. A granddaughter. These strangers appreciated that I was witnessing to the truth, that sex is immutable–or as they understand it, that God makes a person male or female for all time.

While I was prepared for many of these encounters, the repetitive and dismissive remark that I was 'preaching to the choir' rattled me. This made me question, doesn’t the choir attend church every week? Arrogance! How can anyone dismiss the importance of reconsidering an idea they already agree with? Just as I was pondering what might make for an effective retort a woman approached me and asked why I was at the event. I explained briefly, and she said “Aren’t you preaching to the choir?” I gave her a summary of my conundrum on how to answer that question. She became thoughtful. “My priest said once that his job is to preach to the choir, and the choir’s job is to bring the message to the rest of the world.” That was a key to turn my lock.

You might think I’m also preaching to the choir, but consider this: You may agree that kids cannot change sex and even laugh as you walk past me, muttering “everybody knows that.” However, can you confidently sit across from your child’s teacher and express that belief? And when she complains to the school’s administration about a non-supportive and transphobic parent, can you tell the principal? Can you tell your neighbors? The one who is resigned to going along with a double-mastectomy for her fifteen year-old daughter?

Do not dare to tell me that I’m preaching to the choir if you have not spoken those words out loud to someone who might not agree with you. There are children being hurt all over the country by doctors who understand that it’s their God-given right to tamper with the sexual development of children. What are you doing to protect the kids? Maybe you’re only shrugging, sighing “oh, but it’s a damn shame, isn’t it?” You may agree with me completely, but if you’ve done nothing to bring the message to the world, then you aren’t in the choir. You’re in a pew, mumbling into the hymnal, missing the notes and waiting for the song to end. You aren’t even aspiring to sing in the choir. But you could.