God Hates Who, Exactly?

Let’s set the record straight.

The ongoing attacks on the LGBTQ+ community from America’s political Right have nothing to do with “protecting children” or “defending religious values.” These slogans are just moral window dressing—cover for something far more familiar: the need to punish nonconformity.

Much of conservative ideology depends on rigid structure—binary thinking, fixed gender roles, and a world where deviation from “norms” equals danger. The mere existence of queer people—especially trans and non-binary individuals—upends that worldview. Not because they’re doing harm, but because they refuse to obey the script.

To the Right, gender isn’t just a matter of biology—it’s a set of instructions: boys become men, girls become wives. Men provide. Women nurture. Families conform. Everyone plays their assigned role. Step outside that and you’re not just different—you’re disruptive. And disruption, to those clinging to tradition like a security blanket, must be dealt with.

Layer in religion, and the narrative gets weaponized. Many conservative Christians selectively quote scripture to justify anti-LGBTQ+ policies, ignoring the actual teachings of the faith they claim to uphold. Leviticus 19:18 reads: “Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge... but love your neighbor as yourself.” That passage rarely makes it into campaign speeches or legal briefs. Neither does Romans 13:10: “Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.”

Jesus himself warned against this kind of hypocrisy. Matthew 7:3–5 calls it out: “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?” And Mark 2:17 is blunt: “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” The message is consistent: lead with humility, not judgment.

But the judgment flows freely.

Even those who aren’t queer in the traditional sense—non-binary people, gender-nonconforming folks, anyone whose identity doesn’t fit neatly into a checkbox—face the same vitriol. Why? Because they threaten the most sacred binary of all: male or female, us or them. When your identity is built on strict social hierarchies, ambiguity isn’t tolerated. It’s feared.

Let’s be honest: some of the loudest crusaders against LGBTQ+ rights seem unusually preoccupied with the people they condemn. This isn’t just policy—it’s obsession. And we’ve seen enough scandals to know that projection is often lurking behind the podium. The politician railing against drag queens turns out to have their own closet. The pastor preaching hellfire ends up in the headlines. It’s a tired cycle—but still effective.

There’s also undeniable political utility in targeting queer communities. When inflation rises, healthcare collapses, or wages stagnate, scapegoats are needed. LGBTQ+ people—visible, vulnerable, and misunderstood—become convenient villains. You can’t tax billionaires or regulate corporations without upsetting donors, but you can pick a fight over bathrooms and schoolbooks. The culture war is cheaper—and great for fundraising.

And it’s not new.

In 1930s Germany, Jews were blamed for economic collapse, cultural decay, and moral decline. The state didn’t need truth—just someone to point at. Today, queer Americans are being cast in that same role: the ones supposedly corrupting children, degrading culture, and threatening national identity. It’s a familiar script. And we know how that story ends when left unchecked.

But this isn’t Europe in the 1930s. This is the United States in 2025. And the echoes are too loud to ignore.

Books are being banned. Teachers are being silenced. Healthcare for trans youth is being outlawed in state after state. Parents are being criminalized for affirming their children’s gender identity. And politicians are running entire campaigns on promises to "eradicate" what they call "gender ideology." This is not a debate. It’s a purge.

The truth? Queer people aren’t destroying society. They’re surviving in it—despite staggering levels of discrimination, harassment, and erasure. What’s truly corrosive is the authoritarian impulse to crush anything that doesn’t conform to a rigid, sanitized vision of the world.

History doesn’t look kindly on moral panics. It tends to remember who stood up—and who stayed silent.

You don’t have to be queer to recognize what’s happening. You just have to be willing to see it. The question isn’t whether this will end—because eventually, like all crusades against human dignity, it will. The question is: where will you have stood when it counted?

Because when fear wears the mask of tradition, cruelty becomes policy.

And if you think this is just about pronouns or bathrooms, you haven’t been listening.