Mary Held Everything in Her Heart

December 25, 2025 - Christmas

Gwendolyn Glover DeRosa (she/her)

Director of Student Ministries, King Avenue UMC (Columbus, OH)

Queer Christian

“It’s okay to go quiet, to pause long enough to hear your own interior world with the regard it deserves. Don’t let the noise of the world drown out the sound of you. Sometimes silence is presence.”

Cole Arthur Riley

Merry Christmas, friends!

I know that many in the LGBTQIA+ community carry a lot of emotions during this time of the year. Some of us were not welcome to be ourselves when we were growing up. Some of us are not welcome now.

So today, I want to say…all of who you are is welcome here.

Many of us are carrying stories of regret, disappointment, jealousy, or grief. If that’s you, your feelings are valid. You don’t have to fake happiness. God loves you just the way you are.

Christmas is not always a happy, joyful time for everyone, and it hasn’t been for me either. But since 2016, I have had the pleasure of sharing the Christmas story with young people.

It begins this way…the story of Christmas is a journey.

We all know the characters: the shepherds, the wise men, Joseph. But today, I want to talk about Mary.

Mary is a young Jewish woman living under an oppressive empire, who risked it all because she dared to say yes to God. She dared to be different and to have people judge her. She dared to be a vessel of life that nobody else understood.

Let’s imagine the scene. Mary and Joseph had been traveling from their hometown of Nazareth to Joseph’s ancestral village of Bethlehem. They were exhausted.

Mary was pregnant and in pain.

I wonder where the relatives were in this story. Why didn’t they stay with Joseph’s family? Were they ostracized because of Mary’s pregnancy? In any case, we are told in Luke that there was no room for them at the inn. They couldn’t find a place to rest. They ended up staying in a room for animals.

Think about the smells, the sounds, the chaos that surrounded Mary as she was giving birth. It was not a silent night for Mary. The animals would have been making quite a bit of noise. And she was too. Birth is not nice and neat. It’s messy.

Making space for God can be a bit chaotic.

Knowing just a bit about customs at the time, I am sure that there were women with Mary, that she didn’t give birth alone. Women definitely ushered in God incarnate. Women did this and it was not easy.

Mary held everything in her heart. All that she experienced.

Other people told their stories. But Mary didn’t. She was quiet. She was not quiet because she was ashamed or because she was afraid. She wasn’t quiet because her feelings were fake.

Mary was quiet because her lived experience was precious to her.

I was quiet about who I was as a young person. Being bisexual was a joke when I was in high school and college. If you were a woman and you were bi, then you were just experimenting. It was just a phase. If you were a man and you were bi, then you were really just gay. No one ever mentioned that a person could be non-binary or genderfluid. There are many reasons for being silent.

Sometimes we are silenced by shame or grief or by those in power.

Sometimes we choose silence because we are not ready to share our story.

Sometimes we are silent because our journey is so very precious.

I was quiet while I processed and unpacked my own sexuality. My lived experience was a fragile, precious thing and I didn’t want anyone to harm it. Have you ever held a tiny baby chick in your hands? It’s so soft and doesn’t weigh a thing. You hold it lightly, gently, so you don’t hurt it.

This was how I held my own identity. It unfurled like a delicate flower, and I watched the beauty of who I was unfold. Even as I embraced the God-given joy of my queerness, even as I celebrated my weird, unique, beautiful self, I didn’t shout my testimony from the rooftops.

I shared quietly, slowly, with my people. With those who would understand. Who found their voice in my own story. We whispered together; this is who we were created to be. And it is very good.

When people learn of my identity, they often ask me what the difference is between being bisexual and being pansexual. I am bi because I am attracted to people like me and people different from me. I include pan because I can be attracted to any gender.

And I love owning the word Queer because I’m proud to be different, to not fit into a nice

and neat little box. Shame imposed by those in power forced me to be silent for much of

my life.

I won’t be silent anymore.

We know that Mary was not always quiet. Mary had a prophetic voice. She had something to say. Something to share with people who had ears to hear. Mary tells her story to someone who understands deeply what it’s like to have an encounter with the Divine. She tells her cousin Elizabeth. Mary’s prophetic words (known as the Magnificat) are found in Luke 1:46-55.

Mary’s Magnificat is not a nice, submissive poem. It’s a song of revolution for the most marginalized, discarded, and oppressed communities. In fact, I was doing research about this scripture passage, and it turns out that Mary’s prophetic poem was actually banned from being sung or read in India under British rule. And during the 1980’s, Guatemala’s government thought this scripture passage was too dangerous. Mary’s words inspired the poor to take action against the government. So those in power banned any public reading of this scripture passage.

When we share our stories to empower others, something big happens. But it is our choice. You might be a late bloomer like me. It is okay for you to wait until you are ready. Your journey belongs to you. Your experiences belong to you. Your Divine encounters belong to you.

There are many ways to be a witness of God’s grace. We aren’t meant to experience the Divine or testify of God’s goodness in the same way. The shepherds excitedly shared their story with everyone they met. The wise men lied to Herod to protect the Christ child.

And Mary treasured all these things in her heart.

Reflection

I wonder if you’ve ever had your story silenced. I wonder what chosen silence feels like for you.

I wonder how it feels to share your story with those who understand.

I wonder what your prophetic voice is saying in this moment. To yourself. To others.

Action

Find a space where you feel safe to share your story. Maybe you’re part of the trans and non-binary community, check out T Talks’ monthly storytelling event. Or maybe you write poetry, check out Poetry Cauldron’s weekly open mic at Kafe Kerouac. Or maybe you just need to find one person to get coffee with at a safe place like Community Grounds. If you’re an ally, find a space where you can listen to the voices of the Queer community.