All are welcome in this place!

I got a phone call at one of my churches this week.

“Are you the church with the 'all are welcome' sign out front?” the caller asked.

“The one that says ‘All are welcome in this place’ with the rainbow?” I replied cheerfully. “Yes! That’s us!” 🌈

There was a pause. The kind of pause where your spirit quietly whispers, Here we go.

“Does that mean… everyone?”

“Yes,” I said. “Jesus is pretty clear that all are welcome into relationship with God.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“Including those homosexual sinners? Because in 1 Corinthians 6:9–11 it says—”

“Yes,” I said again, calmly. “I know the passage. And I think we read the Bible very differently.”

That’s when things escalated.

“Well, you’re wrong, and you’re going to hell, and everyone in your church is going to hell too with your wicked teachings. I’m going to stand outside your church with signs so no one goes in.”

“Thank you for calling and letting us know,” I replied. “Have a nice day.” Click.

Here’s the thing: there is no debating someone who believes the Bible must only be read through the lens of strict literalism or moralism. For them, their interpretation is not an interpretation—it is the interpretation. Full stop. No nuance. No context. No questions allowed.

When people argue against fully inclusive churches, they almost always reach for the same small handful of verses—what many have come to call the “clobber passages”: Genesis 19; Leviticus 18 and 20; Romans 1; 1 Corinthians 6; 1 Timothy 1; Jude; sometimes Genesis 1–2 for good measure. These verses get hauled out like theological baseball bats, swung wildly at LGBTQIA+ people and anyone who dares to love them.

Overwhelmingly, Scripture contains thousands of verses about caring for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the marginalized. Strangely, those rarely make it onto protest signs.

The truth is, everyone reads the Bible through lenses. No one comes to Scripture neutral. Even folks who read the Bible through the lens of literalism. The question isn’t whether we use lenses—it’s which ones we choose, and whether we’re willing to name and examine them.

In the United Methodist tradition, we talk about four sources that shape our faith:

• Scripture, which tells the story of God’s relationship with humanity

• Tradition, the accumulated wisdom of the church over time

• Reason, our God-given capacity to think, question, and discern

• Experience, where faith becomes real and embodied in actual lives

All four matter. All four inform one another. And all four help us discern how to live faithfully now, not just how people lived thousands of years ago.

Literalism insists that every verse must be read as historically, scientifically, or factually exact—ignoring genre, culture, context, poetry, metaphor, and contradiction. It flattens Scripture into something brittle and dangerous. And when that lens is used to exclude, shame, or threaten our neighbors, it stops being “faithful” and starts being harmful.

Zach Lambert, author of Better Ways to Read the Bible, names some of the most damaging lenses we use: literalism, moralism, hierarchy, and apocalypse. When these dominate our interpretation, people get hurt—especially those who already live on the margins. Lambert reminds us that Scripture should always be leading us toward Jesus, not away from the abundant life Jesus promises.

Jesus didn’t say, “I came so you could win arguments.”

Jesus said, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

Every interpretation of Scripture should move us closer to that promise—for ourselves and for our neighbors.

When theology tells people they are unlovable, disposable, or damned for who they are, that theology is not good news. It is not holy. And it certainly does not reflect the life-giving heart of Jesus.

So yes. Our sign really does mean all are welcome.

Even the people who call to yell at us.

But we’ll keep choosing theology that heals instead of harms, that opens doors instead of slamming them shut, and that trusts the Holy Spirit is still very much employed—thank you very much—and still speaking new life into the world.

And if that earns us a protest sign or two or ten?

Well. At least they’ll know where to find us. 🌈