Father Mills: "LGBT+ parish pastoral care reminds us that nothing can separate us from the love of God"

Article by p. Brad Mills sj, published on the website of Outreach (USA) on 9 january 2026 and freely translated by Teresa Mugno, volunteer of La Tenda di Gionata

In the parish of Our Lady of Guadalupe in San Diego, California (United States), two large banners on the facade of the church read “Nosotros Pertenecemos” (“We Belong”). The banners are visible to thousands of cars that pass the church every day on Interstate 5, near downtown, and are placed there to remind all who see them that the parish seeks to be a community of belonging.

This is especially important because the majority of the more than 2,000 faithful who attend Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish weekly are in some way influenced by the current discourse on immigration, which often portrays immigrants as problematic and unwanted.

However, this message of radical welcome goes beyond the countless immigrant parishioners, or sons and daughters of immigrants. It is truly meant to include absolutely all who seek Christ with a sincere heart.

This message of radical belonging is profoundly significant for members of the parish ministry Bridges – “bridges” in Spanish – who, over the past eight years, has found a way to assist LGBTQ Catholics and their families in this Jesuit parish that has existed for more than 100 years. Bridges is the only Spanish-speaking LGBTQ Catholic ministry in San Diego (its name draws inspiration from the book by James Martin S.J. Building a Bridge).

The ministry seeks to be a place where being LGBTQ and being Catholic are not seen in contrast, but rather as two identities that can be embraced and integrated into one's journey as followers of Christ.

The group began as a small initiative between the Jesuits of Our Lady of Guadalupe (including myself, when I was still a Jesuit in training) and Kino House , a Spanish-language Ignatian spirituality ministry based in San Diego.

The first meeting, on October 23, 2017, was by invitation only. It was a space where people could authentically share their stories and abandon themselves in God's embrace through Ignatian prayer. Since then, the group has met regularly once a month.

For his early years, Bridges continued in this way: little known by the entire community, advertised only by word of mouth.

There was reluctance to make it known Bridges more broadly, as discussing LGBTQ issues in Latin American Catholic circles presents some specific challenges, such as the predominance of a rigid, rule-based religiosity, and machismo, as described by Ish Ruiz in a outreach article .

Three years ago, I was reassigned to Our Lady of Guadalupe as associate pastor. When I rejoined the community of Bridges, told me that they felt their numbers were dwindling and that they wanted to have a more active role in the parish.

Over the last three years, little by little, this has changed. For example, meetings are announced periodically in the parish bulletin and a flyer on Bridges it hangs in the atrium of the parish. The members of Bridges they enter the parish in procession on the feast day of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, together with other parish pastorals.

During the annual parish festival, members of Bridges they proudly sell the esquites [popular specialty ofstreet foodMexican made from soft corn kernels] to raise funds for the parish, directly next to other long-standing parish ministries that serve a variety of mouth-watering antojitos mexicans [typical mexican street food NdT].

Lluvia Jimenez, one of the pastoral leaders Bridges and member from the beginning, explained it this way:

“Initially, I felt scared to be 'out there.' Others in our group thought we weren't ready, 'there's too much machismo,' they said, or 'some won't understand.' It seemed like a tall order, standing among our conservative churchmates and openly discussing our different identities.

I felt like we were going to come out again and again. But it was nothing like that. The members of our parish community have been completely loving, welcoming, warm and supportive, just like Jesus Christ himself. Many have expressed gratitude for our mere presence and we continue to be included in most, if not all, parish events.”

In the annual Via Crucis on Good Friday, a faithful reenactment of Jesus' crucifixion that parades through the streets of the barrio, several parishioners often give personal testimonies of how they have felt Jesus walking with them in their difficulties.

They often talk about being illegal, struggling with mental illness, or experiencing a personal tragedy. Several years ago, among these testimonies there was also that of Rocio Rodriguez, member of Bridges and mother of a transgender child. In front of hundreds of people, Rocio shared how she came to know God's unconditional love despite the pain she once felt over her son's identity, and how He walks with her and her son just as they are.

The overwhelming support that parishioners have given to Rocio proves that bridges are truly built by listening to other people's stories of faith. As Rocio said: “I want to make this pastoral of Bridges a real bridge.

Although it was a very narrow door, I will continue to give my best so that this pastoral ministry can continue and we can open our arms to every person who needs our understanding."

While the response I receive from people is overwhelming support, it can be difficult for some to understand why this ministry exists.

For example, I have had people wonder why this “ideology” was allowed in a Catholic parish, often emphatically pointing out some passages from the Bible , often called “steps clobber” [verses that act like a club NdT] These answers do not surprise me; rather, they are a predictable consequence of trying to live the Gospel, to include the marginalized in the way that Jesus tried to do.

The same members of Bridges they are a reminder to me on how best to respond to comments like this: I don't start an argument, but I kindly offer to share the story of Bridges and why it was created. The banners hanging on the facade of the parish help to dispel these criticisms.

We are all under the mantle of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Regular or illegal. Mexican, Chicano [American of Mexican origin], Latino or gringo [in the Hispanic/Mexican context it is a colloquial term used to indicate a white person from the United States]. Old or young. Gay, heterosexual, bisexual or transgender. Whatever our gender, whatever the color of our skin. We all belong. No asterisks. No exceptions.

The story of the apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe also lends itself well to justifying the existence of Bridges. Mother Mary could have chosen to appear to anyone 500 years ago.

Rather than to the cultural or ecclesiastical elites of the Spanish empire, he appeared to a campesino, a poor peasant named Juan Diego. It was to him that he proclaimed the message: “Am I not here, your mother?”.

A mother's warm and enveloping love is not denied to any of her children, and she often does everything to make this love known to her children in difficulty or marginalized. This was the case of Juan Diego. This is also the case for many LGBTQ Latino Catholics: the harsh, religiously fueled stigma and sense of unworthiness many feel are real and often result in depression, confusion, and a perpetual sense of not being good enough for God.

This is an effort, and it is logical that the mother of Jesus wants, in a special way, to approach them and embrace them. To help them know that they belong to the Sacred Heart of their child and that nothing can ever change that. The ministry t-shirt Bridges proclaims this truth: “Nothing can separate us from the love of God” (“Nothing can separate us from the love of God”).

I believe the key to the success of Bridges lies in the authenticity of Its mission: “To help the catholic church be a place where lGBTQ People and their families know the unconditional love of God”. It's about helping human beings get closer to god. The Only “ideology” of Bridges it is Jesus Christ.

Bridges he must often walk a thin line and discern deeply to remain faithful to this mission. Returning to people's stories and examples of how LGBTQ Catholics and their parents have encountered God's healing love through Bridges helps us achieve this goal. Ultimately, any pastoral decision made is more effective when it is directed towards Christ.

I can say with humble certainty that walking with Bridges it gave a deeper meaning to my being a priest. Through Bridges i feel united with the mission of Christ: that of bearing witness to hope, healing and deep faith among people who have known exclusion by the Church, but whose hearts are firmly rooted in the reality that God's love is greater and embraces all. This faith, for me, is what Jesus meant by the “pearl of great price” (Mt 13, 45-46).

*Father Brad Mills is a Jesuit priest and assistant parish priest at Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish in San Diego, California.

Original text: Jesuit priest: LGBTQ parish ministry says nothing can separate us from God's love