Two Different Fights

Two Different Fights: The Work of Inclusion and the Fight Against Exclusion

Introduction: The Tension We Rarely Name

Being in LGBTQ+ Christian ministry has taught me something most people don’t say out loud, something we often feel but struggle to articulate:

The fight for inclusion is not the same as the fight against exclusion.

They’re both necessary. They both matter. But they are not the same fight. And when we blur them together, we lose clarity. Worse, we risk turning the work of healing into something reactive, defensive, and unsustainable.

If we don’t understand the difference, spaces meant for belonging can quietly start functioning like battlegrounds. And then the exhaustion, tension, and frustration set in, not because the mission was wrong, but because the battle lines were confused.

Defining the Two Fights

The Work of Inclusion

This is the constructive fight. It’s not driven by reaction; it’s driven by vision. It’s about building.

Inclusion asks:

“How do we create a space where people of different experiences, identities, and stories can belong, not by being the same, but by being honored in their full humanity?”

It requires courage, patience, and a commitment to dignity. It means choosing compassion, curiosity, and mercy as the ground we stand on.

Inclusion isn’t about agreement on everything. It’s about shared respect, safety, and the willingness to be in community even with difference.

It’s about nurturing belonging.

The Fight Against Exclusion

This is a defensive and protective fight, and it’s necessary.
It means standing up to systems, theologies, behaviors, and ideologies that shame, marginalize, dehumanize, or erase.

The fight against exclusion asks:

“How do we name harm? How do we set boundaries? How do we refuse to tolerate theologies and practices that destroy people’s dignity and well-being?”

It’s the work of truth-telling. It’s uncomfortable. It’s confrontational. But it’s holy work, work that has saved lives.

Why These Fights Cannot Be Confused

When inclusion spaces adopt the energy of resistance all the time, something shifts.

• The space becomes tense, reactive, and defensive.

• Belonging starts being defined not by shared care, but by shared enemies.

• People bond over what they’re against, instead of what they’re building.

That’s when inclusion accidentally becomes another in-group. A new kind of gatekeeping emerges:

“You can only sit at this table if you think exactly like us, process like us, believe like us.”

The message of inclusion starts sounding a lot like exclusion, just with different language.

The Hard Truth: Inclusion Has Boundaries Too

Total, boundaryless inclusion is a fantasy. Every community, even the most loving one, has boundaries.

The question is never “Do we have boundaries?” — the question is “What do our boundaries protect?”

In truly inclusive spaces, boundaries are set to protect dignity, safety, and compassion, not sameness, not superiority, not control.

“You don’t have to be like me to belong here. But you do have to honor that everyone belongs here.”

Discernment: The Sacred Skill We Need

The wisdom is knowing which fight you’re in.

• When we’re building inclusion, we lead with hospitality, curiosity, mercy, and love.

• When we’re fighting exclusion, we lead with clarity, courage, truth-telling, and boundaries.

Trying to do both at the same time — in the same space — usually breaks the space. It confuses the mission. It exhausts the people.

It’s okay to say:

“This space is about belonging. This isn’t the battlefield today.”

It’s also okay to say:

“Right now, this is the line. This is the boundary. This is the fight.”

Conclusion: Both Are Sacred, But They Are Not the Same

Both fights matter. Both are valid. Both are needed.
But they are not the same.

If we’re not careful, the fight for inclusion can become another version of what it stands against, dressed in better language but rooted in the same old patterns of us-versus-them.

The future of LGBTQ+ faith spaces, and really, any justice-based community, depends on having the wisdom to know the difference.

Build the table. Protect the table. But don’t confuse the work of nurturing belonging with the work of resisting harm.

Both are holy. But they are not the same fight.