Discernment Is Queer

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“Do I have what it takes to do this? Will people trust me enough to lead them in their spiritual lives? Will I even belong here?”

Chris Clark, a student in the Master of Divinity program at the Vancouver School of Theology, asked himself these questions as he worked on his first TFE class proposal (to develop and facilitate a spiritual formation series about the Christian Mystics over the summer).

Such questions are not easily silenced. Ministry rarely unfolds in straight lines, and the path is often shrouded in uncertainty. And yet, each hesitant step draws us closer to the leaders we are learning to become, and to the kind of care we hope to offer a world in need of listening hearts.

In a similar spirit, Chris wondered whether the congregations he hoped to serve would be welcoming and affirming. Identifying as queer and neurodivergent (neurospicey, as he calls it), he shared with beautiful vulnerability the fears that come with entering a new community: hesitation, questions, and a quiet hope that all of who he is would be received and affirmed.

We live in an age where the Church is marked by a need for innovation, change, and transformation. This transformation requires embracing the body of Christ as diverse and lifting up the voices that have been historically pushed to the margins. These voices have the power to illuminate the pathway forward for the church in ways the Church may never have seen without them.

Patrick S. Cheng, theologian and author of Radical Love: An Introduction to Queer Theology, describes queerness as whatever unsettles binary, fixed, and exclusionary ways of thinking—especially within theology. For Cheng, queerness is not confined to identity but emerges as a way of doing theology: a practice that resists normativity, loosens rigid boundaries, and listens for God beyond inherited categories. In this light, queerness is not only theoretical but also deeply experiential, shaping how one moves through uncertainty and engages with the unknown. Couldn’t we say this of discernment generally?

Despite the stress and nervousness of gathering the confidence to lead, honest conversations with his supervisor and the courage to push through his own fear brought Chris to a sense of clarity beyond conventional ideals. Not only this, but the people in the congregation he was serving proved to be not only encouraging but prophetic as he discerned his call. This clarity allowed him to affirm the direction he felt the Holy Spirit was leading him, not only through observing others’ responses but through attending to his own unhurried, non-linear process of discernment.

“Vulnerable conversations allowed me to unpack the narratives I had running in my head,” Chris reflected.

“I did a kind of fact-checking, and through my field education, I gathered insights about the communities I hope to foster. Now, I don’t have a rigid plan, I’m simply looking to see what can be offered, seeking relational communities that allow laughter, provide space for mistakes, uphold equality, and foster connection without hierarchy: just people connecting with other people.”

After finishing his classes and returning to the beauty of his beloved home in Alberta, Chris demonstrates the power of being fully yourself (sparkling, honest, and open) and trusting in God as the ultimate loving guide. Our paths through ministry may call us to resist normativity, to listen beyond what already exists, and to live each day more authentically: more queer, more neurospicy, more fully ourselves. Discernment is queer. It resists rigidity, embraces the uniqueness of our stories, and invites us to live and lead authentically, with our whole selves, just as we are.