When I first set foot in St. Thomas’ several years ago I was, quite simply, a spiritual mess. You see, I had been raised in a very religious, Southern Baptist home. And while church was a place of great comfort and peace for me when I was a child, it became a source of even greater fear and pain for me as I grew older, and I began to realize that I was gay. By the time I left home as a young adult, I was well on my way to completely turning my back on the Church. Even though I was deep in the closet, I was already numb from being battered over and over by those loud, reverberating “Christian” voices that were telling me I was a sinner and an abomination. I was exhausted from years upon years of fervently praying for God to change me into what I thought God wanted me to be. I was despondent because those prayers went unanswered. But I was still craving a connection with God; I just didn’t know how or where to find it. I felt adrift with no bearings and no way to find my way back home.

Somehow, I found St. Thomas’. I honestly can’t recall now exactly what led me here. Perhaps it was my best friend who, knowing better than I did that I needed a faith community, had suggested that I try an Episcopal church. Perhaps it was walking past St. Thomas’ on the way from the Dupont metro to JR’s. All I know for sure is that one Sunday morning I found St. Thomas’ and when I did, it was an epiphany. I was nervous and uncomfortable walking through those doors downstairs, but when I came up here into this room, I saw for the first time a Christian congregation with people just like me, and I heard for the first time a voice that preached an unconditional love for people just like me. For the first time since I was a child, I felt like I was welcome in God’s house—as I had sung many times in that Southern Baptist church—“just as I am.” I didn’t have to be ashamed of who I was, and I didn’t need to ask God to change me. I was simply God’s child, just as I was.

While my first visit didn’t turn into regular attendance for years, from that first moment, St. Thomas’ was a beacon for me—a light in the darkness to guide me back home. I know that St. Thomas’ has been a beacon for others who have felt rejected and abused by religion, by society, by their own families. I truly believe that St. Thomas’ is a special place where, as a community, we try with all our might to live out the “radical hospitality” of the Gospel. No matter who you are, we have room at the table for you. We say it every Sunday. We can’t know how many are out there who are adrift like I was, but we need to make sure they know we’re here. And that’s why I give to St. Thomas’—so that the beacon is bright for all the others who need to come home.