Last Sunday evening, Easter Sunday, my friend Susan and I went to see another friend of mine perform a show at Christ Church United Methodist in Santa Rosa. That’s right, Flamy Grant (the “shame-slaying, hip-swaying, singing-songwriting drag queen from Asheville, North Carolina” — not to mention the owner of perhaps the best drag name I’ve ever heard, with the possible exception of my friend Samual, whose drag persona is named Joann FabriXXX, but I digress) was in town, and I was not about to miss it!

What transpired over about two and a half hours was a pretty standard evening of music: an opening act (the fabulous Story & Tune) followed by the headliner, backed up by said opening act. There were stories and songs, laughter and tears, audience requests and singalongs, a few brand-new songs and some deep cuts.

The audience was pretty diverse — lots of older adults with white hair, and then people in their 50s, 40s, 30s… maybe even down into their 20s? There was one child in attendance, belonging to a couple who were clearly big Flamy fans, singing along with many of her songs.

Oh, and did I mention the queers? Yeah, there were a lot of us. Gay and lesbian couples in rainbow regalia, trans and gender-nonconforming folks, and at the heart of it all, the glorious drag queen we had come to celebrate.

Now let’s talk about sexual content.

Because despite the very real queerness we were swimming in, there was no sexual content at that show. Nothing inappropriate for children beyond a few songs with adult language, all of which Flamy cleared with the parents ahead of time. And even those songs weren’t about sexual behavior at all.

I can almost hear the protests now: “But IT WAS A DRAG SHOW! There was A CHILD PRESENT!”

Well, yes and no. As I invited friends to the show, I kept having to explain: “This isn’t going to be a typical ‘drag show.’ It’s a concert. In a church. Meaningful songs played and sung by a person in drag. That’s it. No dollar bills required. No lip syncs in skimpy outfits.”

What I’ve learned over the last several years exploring the world of drag is that drag is incredibly diverse — from glamorous pageant drag to comedy drag, freaky avant-garde drag, political drag… to, apparently, former-worship-leader-turned-singer-songwriter-about-faith-and-doubt drag. Some drag is more sexually explicit and wouldn’t be appropriate for kids. But much of it is wholesome, beautiful and perfectly fine for all ages.

The thing about queerness is that it is constantly confused for sex. And the two are not the same. We must keep reminding the larger world: while queer people, of course, are sexual beings, our queerness is not inherently sexual. It’s the world that sexualizes us, not the other way around.

I see this all the time on Twitter. Conservative trolls bombard me with intrusive questions about my sex life. They assume all kinds of things about my relationship with my husband. And when I push back, they accuse me of “making my identity about sex” simply because my bio says “All gay, all Christian, all the time.”

To them, being “all gay” must mean I’m constantly having sex — never mind that my husband lives in Mexico and we rarely even get to sleep in the same bed! But being gay simply means I’m attracted to the same sex; it says absolutely nothing about my sexual behavior. You can be gay your whole life and still die a virgin.

Queer people work so hard to come out and be visible because we are swimming in a sea of heteronormativity. Straightness is assumed unless we say otherwise, and some of us refuse to live that lie.

I’ve written extensively about why visibility and representation matter. (Here’s one of my favorite posts on that topic — please take a moment to read and share it!)

Even within the queer community, we sometimes confuse identity and behavior. In my work with gay men married to women, many struggle to separate their gay identity from their sexual behavior. It can be life-changing for them to experience spaces (like my Monday night contemplative spirituality groups) where queerness is simply a shared identity, and the focus is on spiritual life, not sex.

Just this past Tuesday, the Supreme Court heard arguments from Maryland parents who want to opt their elementary-aged kids out of instruction that includes LGBTQ+ themes. Again and again in conservative circles, we hear: “Leave the kids out of it! You’re teaching kids about sex!”

But we’re not. They’re confusing queerness with sexual behavior again.

For generations, schools have talked about marriage, families, and love in age-appropriate ways. Teachers show family photos. Kids read books about weddings and babies. Miss Smith becomes Mrs. Jones over winter break, and everyone celebrates. No one ever called that “sexualizing children.”

Talking about queer families is exactly the same. It’s 2025. It’s time to understand the difference.

Driving home to Novato on Sunday night, Susan and I talked about how beautifully the Flamy Grant concert illustrated this truth. As we stood at the end, singing together:

“It’s a good day / Nothing’s gonna keep me out of the light / I’m not gonna hide / I’ve got a heart in the right place / Covered in the good graces / Of an endless love,”

… we were surrounded by queerness. And there wasn’t a single thing inappropriate about it. It was a beautiful, inclusive, family-friendly celebration of faith, hope, and love.

And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it brought joy to our good God.