Feature photo by Alyssa Williams
Story by Alyssa Williams
For some, Christianity and queerness represent two separate circles, rather than parts of the same Venn diagram.
MTSU students Wren Miller and Grace Holland live in the intersection.
Miller and Holland attend First Cumberland Presbyterian Church in Murfreesboro, which abides by the welcoming words on its website: “A church without barriers providing God’s love through inclusion to all people.”
Holland, a bisexual woman, uses she/they pronouns, while Miller, a transmasculine, queer and non-binary individual, uses he/they pronouns.
Both have become integral parts of their church. They serve as officers of MTSU’s UKirk Collegiate Ministries, a local chapter of a presbyterian organization on campuses nationwide. Members of MTSU’s chapter lovingly refer to it as “gay church.” They are also Sunday school teachers for elementary school students during weekly services for First Cumberland Presbyterian Church. On Oct. 24, the church unanimously approved their wedding for May 3, 2025.
“We haven’t gotten any backlash about the wedding, but there’s been concern about backlash,” Holland said. “At the end of the day, we’re just two people in love.”
According to the Human Rights Campaign, the Presbyterian Church is one of 15 organized religious groups in the United States that affirm gay marriage, which can be incredibly hard to come by in the South. Traditionally, churches consider marriage between a biological male and a biological female. Congregations that affirm the LGBTQ+ community are hard to come by, and even fewer are open to hosting queer weddings.
Miller and Holland felt fortunate to find one only five minutes away from MTSU. However, churches haven’t always accepted them.
Miller, raised as a Southern Baptist and baptized at eight years old, didn’t realize that he – who identified as a woman at the time – was gay. Although he tried to hide it, he eventually openly dated a girl. Someone from his church found out. It didn’t go well.
“One Sunday morning in freshman year, he brought me up on the stage and told everyone in the congregation that I was dating a woman,” Miller said. “He told me that I was going to hell, and then kicked me out of the church.”
Miller felt isolated, afraid and confused. He did not understand why a place that loved him for so long suddenly turned him away. Even after being permanently kicked out of his church, his father continued to attend with Miller’s two sisters.
Miller, however, wasn’t allowed in.
“Being alienated from my church made me doubt my faith a lot,” Miller said. “I very much stopped believing that God was real. I got rid of my Bible. In fact, I set it on fire.”
These religious differences did not affect the family dynamic, Miller said, but his sexuality and gender caused a divide. Over time, his father grew a little more comfortable with the idea of him dating a woman but never truly accepted it.
“He would always call her my friend and never said she was my girlfriend,” Miller said. “He would tell anybody and everybody that he knows I was straight, that it’s just a phase type thing.”
When Miller started attending MTSU as a freshman, he joined a GroupMe group chat titled MTSU LGBTQ+. During the second week of classes, the group decided to meet at the Student Union. That afternoon he met his now-fiancee.
Miller can recite the date: Aug. 31, 2020. They began dating not long after.
“On Feb. 1, I took her to Just Love and asked her to be my girlfriend on a coffee sleeve,” Miller said. “She collects them from places she really likes or on dates.”
Holland inspired him to reconnect with his religion. Not long after, she invited him to the weekly Thursday UKirk meeting to watch “Mean Girls.” At the screening, he could spot other gay people in the crowd. He wouldn’t be kicked out of this space.
When Miller started attending UKirk, he identified as a woman. When he came out as non-binary, UKirk still accepted him. After he came back from winter break, he wore a name tag with his new name on it.
He talked to his friends and youth pastor about his gender identity, concerned about what it meant in terms of his religion.
“And then I was like, ‘But, is that wrong?’ And they were like, ‘No. Why would that be wrong?'” Miller said. “I also don’t know of anything in the Bible that says trans people aren’t real or that it’s sinful. That’s not even talked about.”
However, this was a step too far for Miller’s family. His stepmother presented his father with an ultimatum: her or Wren.
The members of UKirk became his family.
“If I had started going to other campus organizations that don’t accept queer people, I probably would not be a Christian today,” Miller said. “A lot of our deep dives in the Bible definitely made me think this is just about humanity as a whole, and that includes gay people, trans people, black people, white people, everybody.”
Miller and Holland found support in similar ways, but their journeys with faith took different shapes.
Holland, an 8th-generation member of Shiloh Cumberland Presbyterian, came out as bisexual in 8th grade, which is when she began to struggle with faith. She’s had periods of believing in God, but also times when she didn’t.
Unlike Miller, Holland always had the support of her family; they never taught her being gay was a sin. The criticism came from her youth group at McKenzie First Cumberland Church.
“My denomination kinda is not in agreement with queer people in ministry and whatever,” Holland said. “Initially, I was one of the people really fighting hard for that, but I’m just burnt out by it and people not believing that I should exist.”
The Cumberland Presbyterian Church released a statement on homosexuality in 1996. In 2017, two years after gay marriage was legalized, church leadership began to debate whether gay marriage was legitamate in their beliefs. The group still hasn’t come to an agreement.
Kids Holland knew her entire life stopped talking to her because she lived in the gay presbytery. One time, she went on a mission trip to a work camp, and one of the girls asked the youth pastor about cross-dressing being a sin.
At the time, Holland sported a pixie haircut and flannel shirt from the men’s section of Walmart. The girl and the pastor both looked over at Holland. Holland said that he danced around the topic, but it was a sin because she was wearing men’s clothing.
Holland felt hurt. She had known the pastor her entire life. He went to school with her mother, and he has known Holland since she was born.
“Sometimes, because of all of the hate, I think maybe God doesn’t love me,” Holland said. “I do think I carry some trauma from people in the youth group I would sometimes attend being really mean. Sometimes I’m like, man, maybe God hates me.”
As her church became more divided, she got a tattoo that says “whosoever will” with a rainbow next to it. It represents how God will always welcome her, and other queer people into the gates of heaven.
“That is the Cumberland Presbyterian hymn,” Holland said. “When the attacks on LGBTQ+ community began, that song was a rallying cry for those of us who truly believed and lived out that message. Growing up in an environment that had previously welcomed me and was now hating me was very hard.”
Holland found devotion and worship to be overwhelming because of her past experiences. However, UKirk’s fun activities and relaxed services helped her reconnect with her religion. It does not act as a traditional college ministry. During the meetings, members often participate in movie nights, karaoke and camping trips.
Introducing new members with activities helps UKirk seem more welcoming. If a queer student has not attended church for some time, it lets them dip a toe into the religious water again. Coming into a place of only worship and devotion can be overwhelming when trying to reconnect with religion, and it can remind a student of bad memories.
At UKirk, Holland worked to overcome the judgment she experienced in her church’s youth group.
“UKirk helped me get back into religion because it was a welcoming space where I could hang out with my friends without expectations or judgment,” Holland said. “Removing those barriers that can sometimes stop people from feeling welcome in churches really helped me get back in touch with God and create a better relationship with religion as a whole. Since I first started attending, I have gotten more and more involved, but none of it would have been possible without the fun, welcoming events that UKirk hosts each semester.”
Even when UKirk hosts activities, there is one part that Holland and Miller enjoy the most: “Hello God” moments.
During this exercise, members of UKirk share one high of the week, one low of the week and one moment where they saw God move around them. Spending time thinking about how God moved in their life helped them reconnect with religion the most, Miller said.
“The thing that helped me get back into religion was thinking about, ‘how did I see God this week?’” Miller said. “Once we started getting back into the devotion aspect of UKirk, it made me get to thinking more about, maybe, you know, God isn’t homophobic. Maybe he accepts me. Maybe I will get to go to heaven.”
For Miller and Holland, finding a community where they could embrace faith and identity helped build a foundation for their relationship and their faith. UKirk provided a space where they could voice doubts and personal reflections, and it offered a refreshing, nonjudgmental approach to spirituality.
“When it comes to coming back to religion from my traumatic experiences, UKirk helped me a lot by making sure I always knew that I was welcome for who I was and whomever I loved,” Miller said.
Alyssa Williams is the Managing Editor for MTSU Sidelines.
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