At this point, it seems like common knowledge, but I’ll say this again just in case:

“All Are Welcome” doesn’t equate to
all are loved,
all are equal,
all are celebrated,
all are empowered,
or all are free to be themselves.

“Welcome” implies you are invited to enter a space, but it says nothing of the things you will experience and feel there. It says nothing of the roles you will be able to take or the parts of yourself you may be expected to edit or the voice you’ll be permitted to have. It says nothing of how a community will regard you beyond that initial hardy one-word “welcome” which might be masking all kinds of prejudices.

Simply put, “welcome” isn’t enough, and it never was,
but what should be its replacement?

One night several months ago, as I observed one of our in-person gatherings, I noticed how none of the people in the circle felt the need to explain themselves. As people shared experiences, there wasn’t a need to preface them with qualifiers like
“As a queer person…”
or “As a person with a disability…”
or “As someone who was once run out of church…”
Rather, the group felt comfort speaking their stories to one another and asking questions openly. They knew their perspectives weren’t just welcomed; they were deeply valued. An unspoken understanding governed the whole night: all in this circle have powerful insights to offer one another, even if they disagree.

I don’t have a word for this feeling yet.
Acceptance, openness, affirmation— they all feel a bit too vague.
Inviting, comfortable, hospitable— they all feel a bit too weak.
Diverse, inclusive, intersectional— they all feel a bit too hip.

But if I had to call it anything,
I guess I’d call it “holy,”
and with holiness open to us,
why would anyone settle for “welcome?”