Finding Divinity in Queerness

The first time I remember being brought to tears by a song was only a few years ago. I was working an internship at a magazine when I came across an artist named Trey Pearson on Spotify. His song “Hey Jesus” came on my AirPods, and I remember sitting in my cubicle, crying as he sang, “Hey, Jesus, can you hear me now / It’s been a while since I came out / I was wondering, do You love me the same?”

I was shocked. This was a Christian artist singing about being gay and his relationship with God. I remember thinking, “There’s someone like me out there.” And it reinforced the idea that it was okay to be myself.

When deciding whether to pursue music, I constantly asked myself: “What do I have to say? What story am I supposed to share with the world? What sets me apart?”

The first song I wrote was about my faith as a gay person. Since then, I’ve honed my craft quite a bit and grown as a songwriter, but that song about queerness and Christianity set the tone for a lot of my art going forward.

My relationship with music has always been intertwined with my identity and my relationship with God. As a kid, I got a radio one year for Christmas. Through this, I found some of my favorite artists at the time, like TobyMac and Mandisa. Worship and gospel music was consistently a source of comfort for me growing up.

As I've gotten older, the way I think about religious music has changed -- it's become a lot more complicated.I know that many of the artists I looked up to as a kid hold homophobic and problematic beliefs, and the association between religion and the political right has driven me away from many of the singers I once idolized.

I started to seek comfort elsewhere, in my own music and in that of others. The most obvious example is “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga. “I’m beautiful in my way ‘cause God makes no mistakes,” a line that resonated with me, especially as I began to figure out my own queerness. I sought out other artists, like the aforementioned Trey Pearson, Semler, and Flamy Grant, all of whom sing about religion through a queer lens.

Even more mainstream pop artists, such as Conan Gray, Lil Nas X, Demi Lovato, and Maren Morris, have alluded to the intersection of queerness and religion in their music.

I only have a few songs out at the moment, but the focus on the queer experience growing up is a large part of my artistic identity. I've been working on a song called "The Divine," about queerness as an example of God's creativity. I've wrestled with the song for over a year now -- it feels risky and quite a bit more vulnerable than the other songs I’ve put out. My relationship with God is so personal to me, and to be completely honest, I’ve been worried about saying the wrong thing.

A few months ago, I decided to submit the song to a queer Christian songwriting contest. I was surprised when I heard back that the judges had given it an honorable mention. The contest organizers, Affirming Connections, published the song on their website and shared it with other faith organizations.

Soon after, I received several messages telling me how much the song meant to people. I was surprised and flattered. But most importantly, I felt purpose. I had written something that had made people feel less alone; I had shared something important with the world. Because why do we even make art in the first place if not to touch people’s hearts?

Queerness has and always will be a part of my identity, as will religion. I hope that through my work, I can prove that those two aren’t mutually exclusive and that I encourage people to open their minds to possibilities beyond the archetypical caricatures of queers and believers.

Listen to The Divine here:

Learn more about Dylan Dhindsa's work on the latest episode of The Sewing Circle: