In the wake of Pope Francis’ passing, many LGBTQ+ Catholics wondered whether the momentum of synodal dialogue would continue. I can say with confidence: It has not stopped. If anything, it is evolving—and becoming a more permanent part of the life of the church.
From March 26 to 28, 2026, I had the opportunity to participate in a unique and deeply moving gathering: a bishops’ meeting on LGBTQ issues. Convened by New Ways Ministry at the Siena Retreat Center in Wisconsin, the meeting was held under the Chatham House Rule to protect participants’ privacy and foster a safe space where people could speak openly and honestly. (According to the Chatham House Rule, participants at a meeting or event are allowed to share The gathering was marked by listening, humility, and a shared desire to discern how best to serve LGBTQ+ Catholics, who are an integral part of the body of Christ.
The meeting brought together bishops, theologians, pastoral ministers, LGBTQ+ Catholics, women religious, priests, and a medical professional. The structure was intentional: four panels, each followed by table discussions and plenary sharing, with participants reshuffled regularly to ensure a diversity of voices at every table. Only after the formal sessions did we break into affinity groups, allowing for deeper reflection within shared experiences.
The first panel focused on pastoral ministry. The conversation quickly grounded itself in lived realities: LGBTQ+ students navigating single-sex Catholic schools, church employees balancing authenticity while working within the institution, and the particular dynamics of Hispanic LGBTQ+ ministry.
One reflection that lingered with many of us was the intersectional experience of undocumented Latino/a families with an LGBTQ+ loved one. These families are navigating both immigration enforcement and internal tensions around LGBTQ+ identity, facing the risk of family separation from two different aspects of their lives.
The call to bishops was clear: Support for families must be pastoral, visible, and consistent. At its heart, ministry is about accompaniment—about ensuring families are not left to navigate these realities alone.
During this panel, I encouraged bishops not to be afraid of making explicit statements of welcome. Hispanic communities, in particular, often remain deeply shaped by hierarchical structures and tend to benefit from hearing clear words of welcome from clergy and bishops.
I also noted that general statements such as “God loves all” are good but not enough. Specificity is sacred. For a long time, LGBTQ+ people have been specifically targeted by some clergy, laypeople, and Catholic media; therefore, statements of welcome should be equally specific.
The second day began with a panel of gay priests and lesbian religious sisters. Their witness was both tender and prophetic. A recurring theme was the cost of secrecy and the freedom found in authenticity.
One panelist reflected on how withholding parts of oneself diminishes one’s sense of belonging, while openness, even when difficult, can become a source of grace in ministry. Another noted that a culture of perfectionism in seminaries can inadvertently foster secrecy rather than integration. Their invitation was not to abandon vocation, but to live it more fully, bringing one’s whole authentic self into relationship with God and community.
Between sessions, table discussions became spaces of real encounter. People listened deeply. Perspectives shifted. There was no sense of debate for the sake of winning—only a shared desire to understand.
The third panel centered on transgender and nonbinary experiences, bringing together a transgender Catholic, a theologian, and a practicing endocrinologist. The conversation moved fluidly between history, theology, and a discussion of health care. We heard how gender diversity has existed across cultures and throughout history and how contemporary medical care is highly individualized.
There was also a sobering acknowledgment of the current political climate. Attacks on transgender people and the professionals who serve them are not abstract. They have real consequences, including what one panelist described as “moral injury” when care is restricted or denied. Yet even amid these challenges, there was a powerful testimony. For most transgender Catholics, their lived experience has deepened—not diminished—their relationship with Christ.
The final panel turned to theology: anthropological questions, natural law, and the implications of the revised religious directives for Catholic health-care services. The discussion was rigorous, and the bishops engaged with notable interest, especially around how certain frameworks fail to account for the lived reality of transgender persons. Much of the Q&A reflected a genuine grappling with complexity.
After the panels, we gathered in affinity groups—bishops, panelists, and planners—and watched a film together.
Throughout the gathering, what stood out was not only the content of the discussions, but the spirit in which they unfolded. One bishop remarked that “we need to get good theology outside of the echo chamber,” while another encouraged his peers to invite other bishops to future meetings, noting that organizations like New Ways Ministry are “a resource . . . not a threat.” There was a recognition that listening—to stories, to lived experiences—is not peripheral to the church’s mission, but central to it.
Multiple bishops spoke of the gathering as an opportunity for humility and mutual learning. One described it as “a safe space . . . created by the Spirit,” while another reflected on the unexpected joy that permeated even the most difficult conversations. There was also a candid acknowledgment of the broader reality: “We live in a time when there is a hungry church out there, but the people with hunger have left the church.”
Panelists, for their part, expressed gratitude simply for being heard. They spoke not as adversaries, but as collaborators—people who love the church and want to help it grow. “We want to help our church,” one shared. “How can our small ways be of assistance?”
At the same time, panelists named a central challenge: a persistent desire among laypeople for simplicity. As one panelist reflected, the gospel rarely offers simple solutions, with only a few exceptions, such as when Jesus is asked, “Who is my neighbor?” Others echoed that the church’s teaching mission must be expansive enough to hold complexity, reminding us that while we often seek easy answers, the gospel more often invites us into deeper discernment.
The panelists also offered a gentle but clear reminder of the bishops’ responsibility: Their vocation of teaching authority is a profound mission, and there remains much work to be done to acknowledge the complexity of faith.
We closed the bishops’ meeting with the Eucharist, joined by the sisters at the Siena Retreat Center, who sang beautifully and welcomed us into their home. They had made it known from the beginning that they would be praying for our meeting throughout, and it was beautiful to finally see the faces of those who had been praying for us and for the gathering.
The celebration of the Eucharist was deeply moving, and I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having experienced God’s grace throughout the gathering. The Eucharist is always beautiful, but there is something especially powerful about being in a space where all of us are truly seen as full human beings—as it should always be—where being an LGBTQ+ person is not an obstacle to remaining in relationship with Jesus, but simply part of who we are, embraced without condition, and where our journey of faith is truly celebrated, not just tolerated.
By the end of the three days, there were no sweeping resolutions or public statements—nor were there meant to be. But something real had taken place. Relationships had formed. Assumptions had been challenged. And perhaps most importantly, a space had been created where the Spirit could move freely—through listening, vulnerability, and a shared commitment to a more inclusive and faithful church. This bishops’ meeting was the third organized by New Ways Ministry—and there will be more to come.
If synodality is about walking together, then for those few days in Wisconsin, we did just that.
Image: Unsplash/Tong Su
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