Love Beyond Division: Christians and Transgender Dialogue

Introduction by Desmond Tutu 

My dear brothers and sisters, today we gather not to win arguments, but to find one another again. Too often, our words wound when they were meant to heal, and our convictions collide instead of converge. But beneath our differences beats the same longing — to be seen, to be loved, to belong. This conversation is holy because it asks us to remember: there is no ‘them,’ only ‘us.’ May we walk into this dialogue with open hands, willing to listen as much as to speak, and to discover that God’s light shines brightest when reflected in our shared humanity.

(Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event)

Topic 1: Truth and Love: Can They Coexist?

Participants:

• Tim Keller (Christian pastor/theologian)
• Rosaria Butterfield (Christian author, formerly LGBT activist)
• Laverne Cox (transgender actress/activist)
• Abigail Thorn (philosopher, transgender creator)
• Cornel West (philosopher, public intellectual)

Moderator:
We begin with a tension at the heart of today’s discussion: Christians often say they are speaking Biblical truth in love, while transgender individuals often hear those same words as rejection or denial. The question is: Can truth and love truly coexist when they collide so personally?

First Question — What does it mean to speak the truth in love in this context?

Cornel West:
Love, my friends, is not sentimental. Love is justice overflowing. To speak of truth without love is cruelty, and to speak of love without truth is sentimentality. When the church declares truth, it must embody the cross — sacrificial, humble, embracing. If transgender brothers and sisters hear hatred, then the church has failed to embody love, no matter what words it claims.

Rosaria Butterfield:
As someone who once lived in the LGBT world, I understand how words of Scripture can feel like arrows. Yet God’s Word is not hate — it’s the most profound expression of love, because it tells us who we are in Christ. To me, speaking truth in love means refusing to compromise God’s design, even when the culture tells me to. But it also means opening my home, my table, my life, and saying: you are not my enemy.

Laverne Cox:
When people tell me they love me but insist that who I am is a sin, I cannot experience that as love. It feels like conditional tolerance. To me, love affirms my dignity, my right to exist as I am. Truth spoken without recognition of my humanity is not love — it’s dismissal.

Tim Keller:
Paul’s call to “speak the truth in love” assumes a posture of humility. Christians must remember: the truth is not ours — it’s God’s. If our tone, our actions, or our lack of compassion obscure Christ’s love, then we are misrepresenting Him. So the challenge is not abandoning truth, but embodying it so tenderly that even those who disagree recognize sincerity, not hostility.

Abigail Thorn:
Truth, from a philosophical lens, is not a static block handed down but something we experience in dialogue. Love requires listening. If you say, “I know the truth about you better than you know yourself,” that isn’t love — it’s domination. For truth and love to coexist, we must allow others’ experiences to shape our understanding.

Second Question — Why do many transgender people hear Biblical convictions as hate, even when Christians intend love?

Laverne Cox:
Because our lives are already fragile in society. When someone says, “Your identity is false,” it echoes all the violence, the rejection, the bullying, the unemployment, the family estrangement. The words aren’t just theology — they connect to lived harm. That’s why it feels like hate.

Tim Keller:
I hear this deeply. Christians often underestimate how words are received. We may be intending to guide, but if our language ignores the suffering already endured, then it compounds the wound. The Bible calls us to bind up the brokenhearted, not to break them further.

Rosaria Butterfield:
But we must also be careful. The truth of God’s Word will always offend human pride, whether that’s in me or in anyone else. The Gospel demands dying to self, and none of us finds that easy. It’s not hatred; it’s the same call Christ gave to every disciple.

Abigail Thorn:
Yes, but there is a crucial difference: calling someone to humility before God is not the same as calling them nonexistent. When you tell a trans person that their gender is not real, you’re not asking them to die to sin — you’re asking them to die to their very sense of self. That is why it is felt as annihilation, not love.

Cornel West:
Exactly. That’s why the church must be attuned to the cries of the marginalized. If your truth doesn’t sound like good news to the poor, the rejected, the outcast — then maybe you’re speaking less of the Gospel and more of your own fear.

Third Question — How can both sides move toward one another without betraying what they hold most dear?

Tim Keller:
By recognizing the imago Dei — the image of God in every person. Christians need to affirm that dignity first, before any debate about doctrine. That doesn’t mean agreement on gender identity, but it does mean refusing to reduce a person to a theological category.

Abigail Thorn:
And from the transgender side, perhaps we can acknowledge that not every Christian who speaks of sin is acting in malice. Some are wrestling sincerely with their convictions. We can hold them accountable for harm while still seeing their humanity too.

Rosaria Butterfield:
I would add that true bridge-building doesn’t mean abandoning conviction. Christians must not surrender Biblical authority. But we can surrender hostility. We can be hospitable, even while holding the line of truth.

Laverne Cox:
I want to believe that’s possible. For me, moving toward one another means beginning with shared humanity. I am not asking Christians to rewrite their Bible. I am asking them to treat me as fully human, not a theological problem to be solved.

Cornel West:
That, my sister, is the heart of it. We don’t need a cheap unity that erases differences. We need a deep solidarity rooted in love. Christians can still believe what they believe, and transgender siblings can still live authentically — but both can refuse to dehumanize. That’s where the music of justice begins to play.

Closing Reflection

In this first exchange, we see the ache and the hope: Christians speak of a truth they believe is love, while transgender voices describe the pain of hearing that truth as denial. The bridge may not be agreement, but mutual recognition — that both sides are human, fragile, longing to be seen.

Topic 2: Visibility and Existence — “Do You See Me?”

Participants:

• Pope Francis (pastoral care and mercy)
• Beth Moore (Christian teacher/author)
• Elliot Page (transgender actor, speaks on visibility)
• Janet Mock (transgender writer/director, advocate for representation)
• Brené Brown (researcher on shame and vulnerability)

Moderator:
For many transgender individuals, the question is not just about belief but about being seen and recognized as fully human. For many Christians, the call is to see people through God’s eyes. So the question becomes: What does it mean to truly see one another?

First Question — What does “being seen” mean to you in this discussion?

Janet Mock:
Being seen means being acknowledged as I am, not as someone wishes I were. Too often, trans people are forced to argue for their very existence. To be seen is to be met with dignity before debate.

Pope Francis:
To see someone is to look upon them with the gaze of Christ — not as a category, not as a label, but as a beloved child of God. Even where doctrine is firm, compassion must never be absent. If someone leaves feeling unseen, then the Church has not carried Christ’s mercy.

Elliot Page:
For me, visibility is survival. Growing up, I didn’t see people like me on screen, in my community, even in my church. When I came out, I finally felt real. To be unseen is to feel erased — and erasure is devastating.

Beth Moore:
I think of Jesus with the woman at the well. He saw her fully — her truth, her pain, her need — and he still spoke life into her. For me as a Christian, being seen is not just noticing someone’s identity but entering into their story with compassion.

Brené Brown:
My research shows that being seen is the antidote to shame. Shame thrives in silence, in invisibility. When someone says, “I see you,” they are saying, “You’re worthy of connection.” And without that, no real dialogue can happen.

Second Question — Why do transgender people often feel unseen, especially in faith spaces?

Elliot Page:
Because when we walk into churches, our existence is often debated like an issue, not respected as a person. It’s like we’re a theological puzzle instead of human beings sitting in the pews.

Beth Moore:
I confess this with sorrow: churches have sometimes made trans people feel like projects rather than people. We’ve placed policies above presence. And in doing so, we have failed to look into their eyes and say, “You matter.”

Janet Mock:
Exactly. We are reduced to a question — “What does the Bible say about you?” instead of “How are you?” It’s exhausting. Faith spaces often don’t allow us to bring our full selves without feeling policed.

Pope Francis:
This is where pastoral care is so essential. The Church must welcome, listen, accompany. Doctrine is not meant to erase the human face. The unseen Christ is present in every person we refuse to look in the eye.

Brené Brown:
And when someone feels unseen in a place that claims to represent God’s love, the wound is magnified. It’s not just rejection from people — it feels like rejection from God. That is why the pain cuts so deep.

Third Question — How can Christians and transgender individuals begin to see one another without requiring full agreement?

Brené Brown:
By leading with vulnerability. Instead of starting with “here is my argument,” start with “here is my heart.” Vulnerability is not weakness — it’s the doorway to true connection.

Pope Francis:
Yes, mercy first. Agreement is not the prerequisite for love. We must remember the parable of the Good Samaritan — it was mercy, not uniformity, that revealed the neighbor.

Elliot Page:
For me, it begins with listening without agenda. Don’t start by trying to fix me or correct me. Just hear me. I can respect someone’s faith more when I feel they respect my humanity.

Beth Moore:
We must commit to presence. Sit at the same table. Share meals. Open homes. You cannot see someone fully from a distance. True seeing requires nearness.

Janet Mock:
And trans people can also recognize that not every Christian is our enemy. Some are sincerely wrestling. Seeing each other means choosing to interpret not just the words but the intent — and then asking for better when the intent still causes harm.

Closing Reflection

This conversation reminds us: to be seen is not to be agreed with, but to be acknowledged as real, as human, as worthy of love. For Christians, it means gazing through the eyes of Christ. For transgender people, it means being affirmed in their existence. The bridge may not be full agreement, but it can begin with presence, listening, and mercy.

Topic 3: Freedom of Belief vs. Freedom to Be

Participants:

• Al Mohler (Southern Baptist theologian, strong defender of Biblical orthodoxy)
• Rick Warren (pastor, known for bridge-building and compassion)
• Jazz Jennings (transgender activist, speaks for the right to live authentically from a young age)
• Mara Keisling (founder of the National Center for Transgender Equality)
• Martha Nussbaum (philosopher of law and ethics, expert on balancing freedoms and rights)

Moderator:
One of the deepest tensions in society today is how to balance two freedoms: the freedom to live according to one’s faith, and the freedom to live authentically as oneself. Both are essential, yet often they clash. So we ask: Can religious freedom and transgender freedom coexist without one erasing the other?

First Question — How do you define the boundary between religious freedom and transgender rights?

Rick Warren:
Religious freedom means I should never be forced to betray my conscience before God. At the same time, my conscience should not be a weapon to strip away someone’s dignity. So the boundary is found in respect — I hold to my beliefs, but I treat every person with compassion, even when we disagree.

Mara Keisling:
For transgender people, rights aren’t an abstraction — they’re about survival. The boundary is crossed when religious conviction is used to deny health care, housing, or jobs. Belief is one thing; discrimination is another.

Al Mohler:
The First Amendment protects religious exercise precisely because conscience is sacred. If Christians are compelled to affirm what they believe is contrary to Scripture, then religious freedom has been violated. That doesn’t mean Christians should hate, but it does mean they cannot affirm gender identities that conflict with Biblical teaching.

Jazz Jennings:
But when those beliefs deny me access to care or recognition, my freedom to exist is compromised. Religious freedom should protect belief and worship — not the right to erase others from public life.

Martha Nussbaum:
From a philosophical view, rights must coexist through the principle of non-harm. Religious liberty protects the inner life and practice of faith; civil rights protect equal participation in society. When belief becomes behavior that inflicts harm on others’ ability to live as citizens, the state must step in to balance.

Second Question — Is disagreement always discrimination?

Jazz Jennings:
Not always. I don’t expect everyone to agree with me. But when disagreement turns into exclusion — like refusing to use my name, or blocking me from opportunities — then it becomes discrimination. Words can hurt, but actions that deny my humanity are far worse.

Al Mohler:
I would argue disagreement is not discrimination. The church can hold a conviction about gender while still loving and welcoming people. The problem comes when society demands affirmation. Conviction does not equal hatred.

Mara Keisling:
But here’s the challenge: in practice, what you call “conviction” often results in trans people being treated as less than human. For us, the lived experience feels like discrimination, even if the intent is different. That’s why clarity is so important.

Rick Warren:
I think we must distinguish between disagreement of belief and denial of service or dignity. I can believe differently and still treat someone kindly, still sit at the table, still be a friend. When disagreement becomes an excuse to reject relationship, it stops looking like love.

Martha Nussbaum:
Philosophically, disagreement is inevitable in a pluralistic society. The danger is when disagreement becomes systemic exclusion. Laws should not compel agreement, but they should compel fairness in civic life.

Third Question — What practical steps can help both freedoms flourish together?

Mara Keisling:
First, enforce protections for trans people in housing, employment, and health care. That ensures survival and dignity. Beyond that, create dialogue spaces where faith communities can learn about our lives without fear of being silenced.

Rick Warren:
And from the church side, we can commit to radical hospitality. We don’t compromise Scripture, but we also don’t weaponize it. Invite people in, share meals, care for needs. Show love first.

Jazz Jennings:
For me, it’s about visibility. When trans people are known personally, it’s harder to reduce us to a debate. Practical steps include schools teaching respect, workplaces enforcing inclusion, and families affirming kids as they are.

Al Mohler:
Practically, society must protect space for conscience. Faith-based organizations should not be coerced to act against conviction. At the same time, Christians should avoid unnecessary offense. We should practice kindness even when we cannot affirm.

Martha Nussbaum:
The path forward is mutual limits. Religious communities must accept that in the civic sphere, all citizens deserve equal access. Trans communities must accept that in the private sphere, religious people will not always affirm their identities. The art is in building a society where both spheres are respected without domination.

Closing Reflection

Here, the clash of freedoms is undeniable. For Christians, conscience is sacred. For transgender people, existence is sacred. The bridge lies not in demanding sameness, but in setting boundaries: faith protected in worship and conscience, dignity protected in civic life. Agreement may be elusive, but coexistence remains possible if respect is held higher than power.

Topic 4: The Language of Harm and Healing

Participants:

• N.T. Wright (theologian with deep pastoral sensitivity)
• Jackie Hill Perry (Christian poet and speaker who wrestles with faith and sexuality)
• Caitlyn Jenner (transgender woman and public figure)
• Jennifer Finney Boylan (transgender author and professor)
• Dr. Lisa Miller (psychologist and researcher on spirituality and mental health)

Moderator:
Words are powerful. For some, scripture brings comfort and clarity. For others, the same words wound deeply. Today we ask: When does language become harm, and how can it also become a path of healing?

First Question — When does speech rooted in scripture become harmful rather than healing?

Jennifer Finney Boylan:
It becomes harmful when scripture is used as a weapon instead of a balm. I have sat in churches where the Bible was read over me like a verdict. The intent may have been correction, but the effect was erasure.

N.T. Wright:
The Word of God is meant to heal, but I acknowledge it has often been wielded clumsily or cruelly. Harm occurs when truth is divorced from compassion, when the messenger forgets that Christ came not to condemn the world but to save it.

Caitlyn Jenner:
From my experience, harm is when people use scripture to tell me I shouldn’t exist. That’s not guidance — that’s rejection. It drives people away from God rather than drawing them near.

Jackie Hill Perry:
I wrestle with this deeply. God’s Word is a sword — it cuts. But it’s supposed to cut in order to heal, like a surgeon, not like an attacker. Harm comes when we cut without love, without staying to bind the wound.

Dr. Lisa Miller:
Psychologically, harm arises when words trigger shame. Shame isolates, convinces people they are unworthy of love. Healing speech, by contrast, restores connection. The same scripture can do either — depending on delivery, context, and tone.

Second Question — How can Christians speak about conviction without causing unnecessary suffering?

Caitlyn Jenner:
Start with humanity. Look me in the eye and see a whole person before you see a “debate.” If you truly believe your words come from love, show it with compassion, not condemnation.

Jackie Hill Perry:
Be willing to walk with people, not just preach at them. Share meals, listen to stories, open your life. That way, when you do speak about conviction, it’s heard within a relationship of care.

N.T. Wright:
I would add: place scripture within its full story. Too often we pluck verses without context, turning them into slogans. The grand arc of the Bible is redemption, reconciliation, resurrection. Conviction must always be framed by hope.

Jennifer Finney Boylan:
What I hear in that is intent matters, but so does imagination. If Christians can imagine what it feels like to live as us — to feel unseen, rejected — then they may find gentler words.

Dr. Lisa Miller:
Yes. Neuroscience shows that compassion literally changes the brain. When conviction is expressed through empathy — gentle tone, affirming presence — it activates circuits of trust rather than fear. The words may remain the same, but the impact is transformed.

Third Question — What would healing language look like for both sides?

Jackie Hill Perry:
Healing language says, “I see you, I care for you, and I believe God has good for you.” It doesn’t hide conviction, but it makes sure compassion is louder than confrontation.

Jennifer Finney Boylan:
For me, healing language is when someone says, “You belong here.” I don’t need agreement to feel loved — I need assurance that my presence isn’t conditional.

N.T. Wright:
Healing language must echo Christ’s voice — full of grace and truth. He never shied from naming sin, yet people flocked to Him because they felt loved. Our speech must mirror that paradox of grace.

Caitlyn Jenner:
Healing language is respect. Call me by my name, listen to my story, allow me to live with dignity. That doesn’t mean you have to change your theology — but it does mean you don’t erase me.

Dr. Lisa Miller:
Healing language connects. It says: “We may not be the same, but we are in relationship.” It transforms “you are wrong” into “you are worthy.” That shift can lower defenses and open space for dialogue.

Closing Reflection

In this dialogue, we see the fragile line between harm and healing. Scripture can wound when wielded without compassion, yet it can also restore when spoken with empathy. Healing begins not with erasing convictions, but with transforming how they are voiced — from verdicts into invitations, from condemnation into relationship.

Topic 5: Building Bridges: What Does Respect Look Like?

Participants:

• Desmond Tutu (in spirit/voice) (champion of reconciliation, “No future without forgiveness”)
• Shane Claiborne (Christian activist, focused on love and peace)
• Sarah McBride (transgender activist and politician)
• India Willoughby (UK journalist and transgender voice for dignity)
• Jonathan Haidt (social psychologist, expert on moral disagreements and dialogue)

Moderator:
We’ve spoken of truth, love, visibility, and freedom. Now we turn to the practical heart of reconciliation: What does respect look like in real life when convictions and identities remain different?

First Question — What does respect mean in this dialogue between Christians and transgender people?

Sarah McBride:
Respect means I don’t have to fight every day for my humanity to be recognized. It’s not about everyone agreeing with me — it’s about being treated as if my dignity is not up for debate.

Shane Claiborne:
To me, respect means taking Jesus seriously when He said to love our neighbor. Even if I disagree with someone’s choices, I have no right to treat them with less compassion than Christ has shown me.

Desmond Tutu:
Respect is to see in the other the image of God. You may not understand them, you may not even agree with them, but you cannot deny their sacredness. That is the foundation of reconciliation.

India Willoughby:
For trans people, respect begins with the basics: using our names, our pronouns, letting us live without constant questioning. These are small acts, but without them, respect feels hollow.

Jonathan Haidt:
Psychologically, respect is the recognition of moral seriousness on the other side. If Christians see trans people not as frivolous or deluded but as earnest in their identity, and if trans people see Christians not as hateful but as sincere in conscience, the groundwork for mutual respect emerges.

Second Question — What gets in the way of respect in these conversations?

Desmond Tutu:
Pride and fear. Pride insists, “I must win.” Fear insists, “If I listen, I may lose myself.” These twin forces turn dialogue into battlefields.

India Willoughby:
What gets in the way is constant suspicion. Too often, respect is conditional — “I’ll respect you if you change.” That’s not respect; that’s negotiation.

Jonathan Haidt:
Another obstacle is moral framing. Christians often frame this as truth versus error, while trans people frame it as existence versus erasure. When both sides feel the stakes are ultimate, respect is easily lost.

Shane Claiborne:
And sometimes Christians confuse respect with compromise. We fear that if we show kindness, we’re betraying truth. That’s not true — Jesus respected people He disagreed with all the time.

Sarah McBride:
On the other side, some in the LGBTQ+ community may dismiss all Christians as hateful without listening. That makes respect harder too. It takes humility from both sides.

Third Question — What practical steps can we take to build real bridges of respect?

Shane Claiborne:
Start with the table. Share meals, share stories. When you eat with someone, you humanize them. You don’t have to solve the theology at dinner — you just have to show up.

Sarah McBride:
Legal protections are one step, but personal respect is another. Respect looks like teachers affirming trans kids in schools, churches opening doors without prerequisites, workplaces embracing diversity.

Jonathan Haidt:
From a social science perspective, structured dialogue helps. Create forums where both sides speak not about debating positions but about personal experiences. Stories move hearts more than arguments.

India Willoughby:
For me, it’s everyday respect. Call me by my name, let me live without constant scrutiny. That’s not agreement, it’s basic human courtesy.

Desmond Tutu:
Yes, yes! We build bridges by refusing to dehumanize. I used to say during apartheid: “Your enemy is your friend in disguise.” Respect means unveiling that disguise, seeing each other as fellow travelers under God’s sky.

Closing Reflection

In this final dialogue, respect is not presented as agreement but as recognition — recognition of sacredness, of sincerity, of humanity. Respect doesn’t dissolve difference; it creates space where difference does not mean dismissal. It is the soil where bridges grow.

Final Thoughts by Desmond Tutu

We have not solved every tension here, and perhaps we never will. But what we have done is something greater: we have chosen respect over ridicule, compassion over contempt. To my Christian family, I say — your faith is not diminished by your love; it is fulfilled by it. To my transgender family, I say — your dignity is not given by society or denied by scripture; it is already secure in the heart of God. Let us leave this place not as victors and vanquished, but as companions on the same bridge, carrying lanterns of truth and love together into the night.

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