“A Church Without Us”: LGBTQ Catholics Respond to Pope Leo’s Ban on Same-Sex Marriage

By [Your Name] — May 22, 2025

VATICAN CITY — When Pope Leo stood before the Synod on Doctrine and Family last week and declared that “marriage can only be between a man and a woman,” the words reverberated far beyond the marbled halls of the Vatican. To many, it marked a turning point—one not merely in Catholic teaching, but in the Church’s already fragile relationship with the LGBTQ community.

For queer Catholics who have spent years trying to reconcile faith with identity, the Pope’s remarks felt like an excommunication in everything but name.

“He has declared war—not just on our rights, but on our humanity,” said Gabriel Flores, a queer Catholic from Mexico City. “We are baptized members of this Church. We are the faithful. And yet, we are told, once again, that our love is counterfeit.”

From Doctrine to Damage: The Real-World Consequences

Pope Leo’s comments, delivered in Latin but swiftly translated into dozens of languages, were framed as a “clarification” of Church teaching. In his address, the Pope warned that “attempts to redefine the sacred union of marriage to accommodate cultural fads” were “gravely harmful to the soul of the Church.”

But for many LGBTQ Catholics and their allies, the consequences are not theological—they are immediate, emotional, and even dangerous.

“Every time a global religious leader reaffirms this kind of discrimination, LGBTQ people suffer,” said Tatiana Okoye, director of Rainbow Faith Africa. “It legitimizes state-sanctioned homophobia. It fuels violence in the name of doctrine. And it tears families apart.”

In countries like Uganda, Poland, and the Philippines, where Catholicism is deeply entwined with politics, activists warn that the Pope’s words may embolden anti-LGBTQ legislation and cultural repression.

In Nigeria, where same-sex relationships are criminalized, a Catholic bishop praised the Pope’s speech, saying it “restored moral order.” The next day, a queer couple was reportedly arrested in Abuja for “public indecency.”

A Grassroots Uprising: From Anguish to Action

The backlash has been swift. In cities across Europe and the Americas, protests erupted outside cathedrals. LGBTQ Catholics and their supporters held vigils, kissed outside churches, and distributed pamphlets quoting Scripture in defense of queer love.

In San Francisco, Father Michael Liu, a Jesuit priest, led a “Mass of Lamentation” for LGBTQ people “wounded by the Church they call home.”

“This is not rebellion,” he told a packed congregation. “This is grief.”

Online, the movement is surging. Hashtags like #QueerAndCatholic, #NotMyPope, and #LoveIsSacramental are trending. Queer Catholics are sharing personal testimonies of exclusion, despair, and spiritual survival.

One viral video shows a gay Catholic couple in Brazil burning their wedding certificate outside a parish, not out of hatred for marriage—but in protest that their sacred bond is now officially dismissed as invalid by the Church they grew up in.

“I sang in the choir. I was an altar boy. My husband was confirmed here,” said Luiz da Costa through tears. “Now we are told we are not a family.”

Internal Dissent: The Hierarchy Fractures

Perhaps most striking is the pushback from within the Catholic hierarchy itself.

In Germany, the Catholic Bishops’ Conference released a cautious but pointed statement, noting that the Pope’s declaration “does not reflect the pastoral realities of our communities.” In Belgium, several parishes held public blessings of same-sex couples days after the Vatican’s announcement, in open defiance of Rome.

In the United States, Cardinal McElroy of San Diego published an op-ed in America Magazine arguing that “love, fidelity, and mutual sacrifice are the true signs of sacrament—not the gender of those involved.”

Privately, several bishops have expressed concern that Pope Leo’s hardline stance could accelerate the decline of Catholicism in the West, where younger generations increasingly support LGBTQ rights.

According to a 2024 Pew Research Center report:

• 72% of Catholics under 30 support same-sex marriage.

• 68% believe the Church should bless same-sex unions.

• 58% say they would leave the Church if it formally condemned LGBTQ relationships.

“If Pope Leo believes he is defending tradition, he is doing so at the cost of the future,” warned Professor Elena Rossi, a Vatican historian at Sapienza University in Rome. “He may preserve the institution, but he is hemorrhaging the faithful.”

The Legacy of Francis—and the Undoing by Leo

Under Pope Francis, there had been cautious but historic movement toward inclusion. While he never altered official doctrine, Francis signaled a more compassionate approach: endorsing civil unions, advocating against unjust discrimination, and famously saying, “Who am I to judge?”

That rhetorical openness offered hope to millions of LGBTQ Catholics that their lives and loves might one day be fully embraced by the Church.

Pope Leo, however, appears determined to reverse even that small progress. A conservative intellectual and former Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Leo has emphasized “moral clarity” and “doctrinal security” over pastoral flexibility.

In his first encyclical, Veritas Aeternum, he warned that “moral relativism has infiltrated the Church” and called for a “return to uncompromised truth.” LGBTQ relationships, he wrote, are “objectively disordered and incompatible with divine design.”

To critics, this is not clarity—it is cruelty.

“Pope Leo’s vision is not eternal truth—it’s historical amnesia,” said Dr. Miguel Campos, a queer theologian in Spain. “It forgets the radical love of Christ. It forgets that justice and mercy are not mutually exclusive. It forgets that real faith evolves.”

Faith, Exile, and the Future

Where does this leave LGBTQ Catholics?

Some, like Gabriel Flores in Mexico, are choosing exile—leaving the Church entirely and seeking spiritual refuge elsewhere. Others are staying, but with clenched fists and broken hearts.

There is also a growing number of so-called “underground parishes”—small, independent Catholic communities not officially recognized by Rome but operating in defiance of its hierarchy. These groups celebrate inclusive sacraments, host queer-led liturgies, and offer a vision of Catholicism rooted in conscience over canon.

“We are not leaving the faith,” said Sister Joan-Maria Chen, who runs such a parish in Toronto. “We are reclaiming it.”

Still, many LGBTQ Catholics remain in limbo—too faithful to leave, too wounded to stay.

“I don’t know if I can keep walking into a church that calls my marriage a sin,” said Marcus Tillman, a Black gay Catholic in Atlanta. “But I also don’t know who I am without this faith. I was born into it. I breathe it. What do you do when the thing you love doesn’t love you back?”

A Defining Moment

As the Catholic Church stares into the third millennium, the question is not merely whether it will adapt to social change. It is whether it can survive without the people it is actively pushing away.

The Pope has drawn a line. But across the globe, millions of queer Catholics are drawing theirs, too.

And in the silence between the Vatican bells and the chants in the streets, a question hangs heavy in the air:

Who, truly, has the moral authority to define love?