Repentance and Repair in Covenant Relationships: Why Rainbow Are Never Enough

In 1978, artist and activist Gilbert Baker stitched together the first rainbow flag by hand, hoisting it into the sky at the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade. It was never meant to be just decoration, but a rallying cry, a tapestry of hope and defiance stitched in bold, beautiful color. Each stripe stood for something vital: life, healing, sunlight, nature, art, harmony, and spirit. This rainbow wasn’t just going to be a symbol because it was a lifeline, a visible sign that queer people belonged in this world and had a place in each other’s hearts. Baker's flag declared, in bright, brilliant fabric: you are seen, you are sacred, you are safe here. But the rainbow was never enough, as Ntozake Shange reminded us so poignantly. So we tried to adjust the symbol. We added black and brown stripes to honor our siblings of color. We added pink, blue, and white for our trans family. And intersex symbols. Then new flags altogether, dozens of them, each one trying to name what had been erased, each one trying to say to another group: we see you now. And still…people kept getting hurt.

So some allies reached for safety pins. Tiny, quiet promises worn on collars and bags: you can talk to me, I’ll protect you. But when the threats came and when the laws rolled back rights, when the child was kicked out of their home or the elder couldn’t get health care, what good was a safety pin in stopping those threats?

In all that time, what we really needed wasn’t another symbol. We needed a safety net not a safety pin, a living, breathing web of people and communities ready to show up, hold ground, share resources, open homes, resist injustice, and rebuild covenant.

We needed each other.

That is what this moment calls for. And that is where TransVersals begins.

Movement building and social transformation begins in the hearts of the people, not in statements. No boards or bylaws or branding can replace the embodied actions of those who have heard the call to change. Justice cannot be just congregational declarations, but must match those declarations with daily lives and the decisions we make. “Who cleans the sanctuary? Could we hire that young trans man living in the tent down by the railroad?”

“We are out of food and people are hungry. Let’s do a collection to restock the food pantry.” “Who is up to drive the van to take elders to the polls, and who is going to make sure they can jump through the hoops to stop them from voting?” The people responding to these needs are the people who shape the spirit of a community. This is what it means to walk the path of justice and social transformation every day.

I believe that shifting our focus from performance to practice and from certificates to community begins with reclaiming the hidden and untold stories.

We are living in a time of escalating danger. And when the threat is real, when lives are on the line, community is what protects as some of these stories will illustrate better than a blog could. We must let a forgotten truth reshape our understanding of inclusion: it's not about being nice and welcoming, but opening up more spaces that can become sanctuary.

As Bishop Yvette Flunder insists, “True community must be forged at the margins, not at the center.” There stories begin at those edges, where hurt has happened and hope still flickers. It honors the principle that inclusion is not a single moment of welcome but a lifelong spiritual practice of building structures that can hold healing, resistance, and joy. This program is, at its core, Flunderian theology in motion (and if that is not a word yet, it should be).

This work is born out of a refusal to accept that harm is inevitable; a belief that systems can be rebuilt if we are willing to tell the truth and seek new knowledge; and an awareness that we are shortsighted in how we view the willingness of the people within the communities we serve to transform and do the work of transformation.

I believe our communities are not just ready, they are actively seeking it.