LGBTQIA2S+ Struggles for Justice in Puerto Rico: An Interview with Rev. Abigail Medina Betancourt

Abigail holding a sign that reads Trans Lives are Sacred.

Editorial note: This is an interview with Abigail Medina Betancourt. Abigail is a member of the BPFNA Board, and the National Coordinator of Intercultural Relations in American Baptist Home Mission Society. She is also the and Associate Director of Creciendo Juntos, and Associate Pastor of the First Baptist Church of Sabana Llana, in Puerto Rico.

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1.     Abigail, you took part in the rally held on May 17 in Puerto Rico, organized by LGBTQIA2S+ communities. To start, can you tell more about it? What was its purpose, and what were some of the key demands being raised?

May 17 is the International Day Against Homophobia, Lesbophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia. The LGBTQIA2S+ Federation took this opportunity to organize a rally defending the rights of this community. The rally also called attention to the fact that the government of Puerto Rico has been pushing legislation that undermines LGBTQIA2S+ rights.

2.     As a Baptist pastor and a graduate student at the Evangelical Seminary, what inspires you to participate in gatherings like this as a Christian? How do you see the connections between your pastoral work, your theology, and the struggle for LGBTQIA2S+ rights in the island?

My theology follows the example of Jesus. From the Bible, we see that Jesus walked with people who were pushed aside by society. He spoke up against those in power who used their position to oppress others. He always showed compassion and left us a legacy of love. I will always stand up for those who are oppressed by unfair systems. Many times, these struggles are also my own, like the fight for women’s rights, for Latinas, and for the poor. In this case, I stand in solidarity with this struggle.

In daily life, we may find ourselves with certain privileges. I know I have privilege as a Christian from a Protestant background and as a cisgender woman. This means I have a duty to use that privilege to speak out against the injustices this community faces. When we work together, our call for justice grows stronger.

3.     Your work with the American Baptist Home Mission Societies also intersects deeply with advocating for marginalized communities. In your view, how can ABHMS and, more broadly, the Baptist church in Puerto Rico become part of these conversations around the fight for LGBTQIA2S+ rights?

I am fortunate to work with an organization that has long spoken out and acted against injustice. I think many Puerto Rican Baptists have been affected by misinformation and division. We need to join the conversation to help clear up theological and biblical questions about this issue, which is really about human rights. What people are asking for is equal rights for everyone.

I know this is a long journey. Honestly, there are only a few Puerto Rican Baptist leaders involved in these efforts. But what matters is that the first steps have already been taken.

4.     Gender-based violence, particularly femicides, remains a critical issue on the island, with numbers rising significantly in recent years. How do you think public events like this help raise awareness about the urgent need for new and better mechanisms to address such violence?

Public demonstrations are one of the main ways people can make their voices heard and show that we are paying attention to what is happening in our country. I am sure this rally gave hope to someone, maybe a gay man or a lesbian woman watching on TV, who is still looking for the words to come out to their family. I believe that for many, this message of solidarity brightened their day.

For me, I made sure to attend so that a young trans Baptist I met a few years ago would know that I love him and that I was there representing him, since he could not attend because of work. Here, we confront hatred with love.

5.     In Puerto Rico, public opinion about LGBTQIA2S+ communities is still deeply polarized, especially within Christian churches. From your perspective, how can churches begin to leave behind outdated and harmful ideas about gender and sexuality? What steps might they take toward that transformation?

I always place my hope in education. A few years ago, the First Baptist Church of Sabana Llana (where I serve as associate pastor) began an educational project for our congregation. We discuss current issues such as gender-based violence, the genocide in Gaza, religious freedom for everyone (including those who choose not to believe), and the historical-critical study of the Bible, among others. We make sure that the courses are taught by experts in each field. Among the speakers we have invited are professors from the Evangelical Seminary of Puerto Rico, a lawyer, a licensed professional therapist, and an expert in Baptist principles and religious freedom.

Right now, we are planning a series on gender equity. I can tell you we have dealt with topics that might be considered polarizing or controversial, but we also discovered that polarization was often fueled by misinformation. It is equally important to create safe spaces where people can ask questions and clarify doubts without fear of being ridiculed. I can say with confidence that this educational program has borne fruit, and I am sure it will continue to do so.

6.     At the same time, many LGBTQIA2S+ individuals carry a justified aversion to church and Christianity, having been deeply wounded by these institutions. What do you think we, as the church and as God’s people, can do—not only to help heal those wounds—but to step into these conversations as true allies without seeking to control or dominate them?

When I decided to go to the rally, the first step I took was to educate myself. I read articles written by LGBTQIA2S+ people to better understand the trauma the church has caused them. One of those articles spoke about what they expect from Christians in those spaces. I read it and put it into practice.

The first thing I understood is that it is their space, not mine. I was there as an ally. That meant walking silently alongside them and being present. I believe the most important thing is for us to act with humility and acknowledge the harm the church has done. We should not step into their spaces to try to take control, or to tell them, “I forgive you,” as if they were doing something wrong or as if forgiveness was ours to give.

We need to be spaces of healing—and that has to happen on their terms, not mine. My role is to raise my voice when theirs is silenced, not when it is the event. I spent days thinking about the sign I wanted to carry. I wanted people to know I am a Christian and that I stand with them, but without using the Bible or the cross symbols that have been used to oppress them. It mattered to me that they know I am not that kind of Christian.

In the end, I carried a sign that read, Trans Lives Are Sacred, and I wore a stole so that people would know that a ministerial leader was walking alongside them.

7.     Finally, could you share a few words of encouragement? Perhaps for Christians reading this who want to learn more or begin addressing their own biases. And also a message of hope and peace for LGBTQIA2S+ individuals who may be longing to deepen their relationship with God.

I grew up as a Christian fundamentalist. I do not know how many times I shouted, “God loves the sinner, BUT not the sin.” For years, I parroted the same fearful, misinformed rhetoric that the institution fed me just to preserve the status quo. Maybe someone reading this is where I was back in the 1990s. Today, I can say that, in 2025, I am a very different person.

I have learned to discern the voices I listen to. I have learned to deconstruct the messages and the thinking I was taught. I have questioned my own prejudices. I have learned to focus on the example of Jesus. It has been a painful process of personal growth, but here I am. You can do this too. You are not alone—you have me, and you have communities like BPFNA, who can walk alongside you on that journey of growth and transformation.

For LGBTQIA2S+ people, all I can say is this: You are loved. You are God’s creation, which means you are inherently worthy. You matter. You are not alone. God wants you to live in the freedom He has given to every human being. Even if religious institutions have wounded you and still try to suppress who you are, know for certain that there are communities you can count on.

As for words of encouragement to allies, I will share the ones I received from a former classmate in the Graduate Program in Linguistics at the University of Puerto Rico in Río Piedras. We have not seen each other in over twenty years, but we still follow each other on social media. He sent me this message on June 14, the same day my cousin had asked me how I reconcile my beliefs in social justice with the institution of the church. I share what he wrote to me, with his permission:

I do not think I have ever told you this, but you are literally the only reason Christianity still has the possibility of making sense in my life. My grandfather was a pastor, a missionary who opened orphanages in Venezuela. I have uncles and aunts who did the same in Argentina. And within all that tradition, I struggle to identify with them, especially because of their stance toward the LGBTQ community.

On the days when I feel like giving up, one of your posts appears. And even though it is rare and different, it gives me hope that my own views still have a place within the culture of those who say they follow Christ. I do not live in Puerto Rico. I do not even go to church here. But the way you speak, the people you defend, the openness you show to those who do not live in traditional Christian ways—it gives me hope that there might be a church where I can belong. Maybe more ‘liberal,’ but still a place where one day I can find peace and community and worship God without conflict with my beliefs.

We need more people like you. Many, many more. Keep going with your mission, because even from far away—and maybe in a quieter way than I should—I support you. I believe in what you do and what you preach. May God bless you with the strength these times demand. A hug.