09/03/2026
Hate Has No Address
This week, two men — Vincent Anthony Siqueiros and Cameron Davis Capara — were killed outside an LGBTQIA+ gathering place in Tucson, Arizona. Police have confirmed what many feared: this was a hate crime, deliberately targeting the LGBTQIA+ community.
Tucson is many states away from Cadillac.
But hate has no address.
For members of the LGBTQIA+ community here in our own congregation and community, violence like this does not always feel far away. When someone is attacked simply because of who they are, others who share that identity are reminded that there are still places where simply being themselves can make them a target.
And as followers of Jesus Christ, we cannot simply look away.
Fear is powerful.
We fear people we do not understand. We fear people whose lives are unfamiliar to us. We are taught to fear gay and transgender people. We are taught to fear Muslims living peacefully alongside us. We are taught to fear immigrants. We are taught to fear people whose politics differ from our own.
And when fear is fed long enough, people stop being neighbors and become threats.
That is where fear becomes dangerous.
But the Gospel does not teach us to fear our neighbors.
Jesus repeatedly crosses the boundaries people were told not to cross. He touches the untouchable. He eats with the rejected. He speaks with the outsider. He sees people others have decided not to see.
And again and again, Scripture tells us:
Do not be afraid.
Not because there is nothing frightening in this world.
There clearly is.
But because fear does not get to determine how followers of Christ treat another human being.
Love does.
And Christian love is not timid.
It is bold.
It is courageous.
It crosses boundaries.
It stands beside people others push aside.
It sees the image of God in people we have been taught to fear.
At First Presbyterian Church, we do not believe LGBTQIA+ people are problems to be solved, sinners to be singled out, or strangers merely to be tolerated.
They are our friends.
They are our neighbors.
They are members of our congregation.
They are leaders in our church.
They are beloved children of God.
And when one part of the human family is targeted by hatred, Christians should not have to ask whether those people are enough like us before we care.
Jesus already answered that question.
They are our neighbors.
So today we grieve with the LGBTQIA+ community of Tucson. We remember Vincent and Cameron. We pray for those who loved them and for a community whose sense of safety has once again been shattered.
And then we do something more than pray.
We choose courage over fear.
We choose curiosity over suspicion.
We choose neighbor over stranger.
We choose love over hate.
Because hate may have no address.
But neither does the radical love of Jesus Christ.
Let us pray.
God of boundless love,
We grieve today for Vincent and Cameron,
for those who loved them,
and for the LGBTQIA+ community in Tucson whose sense of safety has once again been shattered.
We pray also for those much closer to home who hear news like this and wonder whether they are safe simply being who they are.
Forgive us, O God, for the ways fear shapes us.
Forgive us when we fear what we do not understand,
when unfamiliarity becomes suspicion,
when suspicion becomes judgment,
and when judgment allows us to forget that the person before us is our neighbor.
Give us the courage of Jesus.
Courage to cross boundaries.
Courage to listen before judging.
Courage to stand beside those who are targeted.
Courage to speak when silence would be easier.
Courage to love when the world tells us to be afraid.
Make your Church a place where no one needs to hide who they are in order to be welcomed, where those who have been wounded by religion find healing, and where every person knows they are seen, valued, and loved.
And when fear tempts us to build walls between “us” and “them,” remind us that in your family there is only us.
May our words proclaim your love.
May our lives embody your love.
And may our courage make your love visible in a frightened and divided world.
In the name of Jesus, who taught us what radical love looks like,
Amen.
And wherever we go, whoever we encounter, however different their life may be from our own, may we never forget:
You will never look into the eyes of someone God does not love.
