By Rev Lorenzo Fernandez-Smal
One year on, from the launch of LGB Christians in October 2023 and the launch article my progressive colleagues and erstwhile friends still ghost me, and I don’t think it’s now out of embarrassment. I suspect they feel bruised and are digging their heels in. I dislike calling them progressive because I find their uncritical embrace of gender ideology profoundly regressive, but it is how they think of themselves.
It is the reason why they won’t change; it is a form of self-righteousness. I am not the only one to bemoan broken friendships. It is sad that so many of us have lost friends or even alienated family members over this.
It is astonishing that, one year on, having seen the release of the Cass Report, the Tavistock’s closure, the outlawing of puberty blockers and so much evidence victoriously brought to light in courts and tribunals, after best-selling books were published on the matter and yesterday’s villains were rehabilitated, they have not budged.
The silence of self-proclaimed inclusive church organisations is deafening. Not a word from the Open Table Network, Inclusive Church, Affirming Catholicism, OneBodyOneFaith, Together for the Church of England. To inclusion and beyond, for them, without a pause for self-reflection.
It is like talking to members of a cargo cult. They believed they were on the verge of an intersectional new age, thought to be inaugurated by the destruction of an old, bigoted order but the gender critical crowd, like the colonials of old, intercepted the goods.
Last year was an auspicious one, but its achievements were not coincidental. They were the result of stubborn years spent in opposition by people who believed firmly that they were faced with a destructive social contagion and yet believed that they had the ability to create change.
We must not let heartache blind us to what is coming our way, however. Many of us have followed the Tickle vs Giggle legal saga down under, but few may have read the actual judgement. Yet it is extraordinary. The judge had to admit that, for all intents and purposes, the legal definition of ‘woman’ in Australian law now included men who identify as such. The discrimination against Mr Roxy Tickle hinged on the fact that the app failed to ‘distinguish between cis males and trans females,’ as he chose to call them. So, there we have it: someone was deemed to have been discriminated against because a facial recognition computer program considered garden variety males and trans identified females to be one and the same thing. Because they are.
We must not let heartache prevent us from opposing this kind of dystopia, because it is coming over here. Many activist organisations are still working hard for the concept of gender identity to be enshrined in law, medicine, sport and education.
One year on, after the skirmishes of last year, the main fight is only beginning. The ban on conversion therapy may still outlaw exploratory therapy for youths who are struggling with their self-perception. The Tavistock clinic may have closed, but it has spawned several regional centres where the same practitioners are still employed. Membership-funded advisory bodies are still listened to in their fight against good medical and psychotherapeutic practice, which to them boil down as mere restrictions on transgender healthcare.
Last year was an auspicious one, but its achievements were not coincidental. They were the result of stubborn years spent in opposition by people who believed firmly that they were faced with a destructive social contagion and yet believed that they had the ability to create change. They were the direct result of a collective belief in their abilities.
We too at LGB Christians, small and young as we may be, must believe in our own ability to influence outcomes. This self-belief is the most powerful tool we have to improve the lives of young people who are being hurt by pseudo-science and an ideology fundamentally at odds with our Christian faith.
As we begin a new year, our second, we face significant challenges in education, healthcare and our own churches. Our self-belief will be tested more than ever so far. Routines and habits which have been ingrained over many years will need to adapt to changes beyond our control, and we will need to dig deep, relying on the power within each of us to create positive change, even in the face of adversity and the opposition of friends who would rather we kept silent. We must keep talking to them because, if we fall silent indeed, we will look back in a few years on a barely believable medical scandal, the re-medicalisation of homosexuality among vulnerable teenagers and the dismantling of women and gay rights, so recently and precariously won.
Above all, delenda est Cartago: destroy, discredit and debunk once and for all the very notion of ‘gender incongruent’ children. Gender identity is the figment of the imagination of post-modern psychology and sociology. It must never gain theological credence, and it must never, ever become an educational or medical reality.
We are committed to these tasks. Thank you for your goodwill, as we move ahead into year two emboldened by your support in year one.
About Rev Lorenzo Fernandez-Smal
Q. How did you end up becoming a priest in the Church of England?
A. I grew up a Buddhist of sorts. When I read Oriental Languages at university I had to read the Gospels and discovered Jesus. I became a mendicant monk, a Dominican friar to be precise, because that was the nearest thing to what was familiar to me. I loved conventual life but I was way too liberal for the Roman Catholic church. The old Church of England was actually a lot more relaxed so I asked to be received, and they agreed.
Q. Haven’t you had enough hostility from other Christians to feel the Church is toxic?
A. Sometimes, but the secular liberal side is equally bad, so I’m staying put, hoping that it’ll help younger gay men and women see that they can find a home here.
Q. There must be an upside, even rewards, to parish life. What are they?
A. I love working across a wide, wide cross-section of the population; from studying Scripture in the original texts with people who’ve had prestigious academic careers, to singing ‘Sleeping Bunnies’ with toddlers, crafting and baking.