In honor of National Coming Out Day, we are proud to feature an article written by the Rev. Melvin Soriano, Priest Associate at St. John’s Cathedral and Associate Chaplain of Canterbury USC. He is also convener of “The Gathering: A Space for Asian-American Spirituality” in the Diocese of Los Angeles.
On this National Coming Out Day, what does it mean to stand at the intersection of multiple identities: as a Filipino immigrant, a gay man, and a priest in the Episcopal Church? Each of these identities shapes who I am, but the beauty of intersectionality is that these facets are not separate—they intertwine to tell a fuller, richer story.
As a Filipino immigrant, my identity is shaped by a culture that values family, community, and spirituality. I carry with me the history, the struggles, and the beauty of my homeland. But being an immigrant means that I also carry the experience of dislocation, as my parents brought us to establish a new home in a foreign land. The journey of migration often involves navigating feelings of loss and searching for belonging in a new culture. But, as immigrants, we also encounter challenges of racism, exclusion, and misunderstanding. Even within faith communities, there can be a tension between holding on to our cultural heritage and integrating into a predominantly Western environment. The Episcopal Church, with its inclusive theology, offers a space that invites diversity, yet I, and others like me, must still navigate what it means to be fully seen as both an immigrant and a child of God in a predominantly white church.
For many of us who are LGBTQIA, coming out depends on whether we ever feel safe and supported enough to actually come out. The choice to come out is met with fear of rejection, or shame, especially when it comes at the potential cost of rejection both from your original culture and the new one. The Episcopal Church should be a space that is radically inclusive, embracing the dignity of LGBTQ+ people. And yet, the journey here was not simple. There are still places within the wider Church and throughout this country where our love and identity are questioned. Coming out as gay in a world that often marginalizes us takes courage. The action says: “I am here, I am worthy, and I am beloved.” It’s also a testimony of faith. We claim our faith by stepping into the light, finally letting our authentic selves be seen. We claim the truth that God loves us as we are and that the gospel speaks to all people.
But the challenges of the intersection between culture and sexuality pose multiple problems. The most obvious problem is invisibility and silence. For many queer people of color, particularly in immigrant communities, being LGBTQ+ is never discussed. Heteronormative standards are upheld to maintain the image of the model family, to avoid shame, and to reduce the potential for any more bigotry. This can lead to a sense of invisibility and loneliness as if parts of us must be erased to be accepted.
Moreover, we contend with cultural tensions. For Asian immigrants, the strong sense of duty to family and cultural expectations often clashes with the journey of coming out. In many Asian cultures, there is deep respect for elders and tradition, and being gay can sometimes be seen as challenging those norms. Coming out can feel like an attack on this identity.
These problems are not just our own here in the USA. Supported by Episcopal AsiaAmerica Ministry (EAM), I attended a conference in Bangkok whose participants were Asian LGBTQIA+ Christian clergy coming from churches of Asian and the USA earlier this year. Some attendees came from places where their LGBTQIA identities would be disapproved, and they had to refrain from social media lest they be involuntarily outed. We shared stories, struggles, and joys. Our experiences and stories were universal as well as unique to our particular context. One young man felt so comfortable being out while studying theology at university in another country and feared returning home because it could force him to be silent once more.
Coming out is not just about declaring sexual orientation or gender identity; it’s about embracing the fullness of who we are. When I stand in the pulpit as a Filipino immigrant and a gay man, I am not just telling a personal story; I am telling the story of many who have struggled to be seen, to be heard, and to be loved. When we can come out safely, we do so knowing that we live in a beloved community of love, trust, and support. Because the power of this day is that it is a show of love and community around us. Coming out is an act of love. It’s about loving ourselves enough to claim our identity. It’s about loving others enough to invite them into our truth. it is about letting others love us for exactly who we are. And, for us in the Episcopal Church, it is also an act of faith. By coming out, we trust that God has created all of us in divine love, that there is nothing about us that needs to be hidden or fixed. God’s grace shines within, from, and through our unique and diverse identities.
Psalm 139:14 reminds us to shout out “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” This is the truth for all of us. Our immigrant stories, our queer identities, our spiritual journeys—they all bear witness to the wondrous creativity of God. So, today, I come out once again, not only as a gay man, not only as an immigrant, not only as a person of faith, but as all of these, all at once. I claim them all. And if you’re able, if you’re ready, I invite you to claim your own identities, knowing that each part of you is a blessing, a different facet, a unique reflection of God’s image, and a testimony to the beautiful diversity that we see as God’s bountiful creation.
So whoever you are and wherever you are on your journey, come out and join us. There is room in God’s kingdom for all of us.