Science & Tech Quote by Malcolm Boyd

There is a quiet audacity in the way Malcolm Boyd makes the ordinary sound like a small liberation. He isn’t declaring a manifesto; he’s describing a commute. Five days a week, an office, a computer, a community. The sentence borrows the cadence of normal work life to smuggle in what used to be unthinkable in much of American Christianity: a gay-affirming ecclesial home that feels routine rather than radical.

The setting matters. The Episcopal Cathedral Center of Los Angeles isn’t just a workplace; it’s an institutional seal of legitimacy. Boyd, a clergyman with a long public history of challenging church norms, knows the rhetorical power of geography and bureaucracy. “Where I have an office” is a line that does heavy lifting: belonging becomes spatial, official, unarguable.

Then he turns the key word: “nurtured.” Community isn’t presented as a vague vibe, but as something cultivated, almost pastoral. The subtext is relational succession. The “several younger gay men and women” aren’t props for tolerance; they are friends, and their youth signals continuity, a church future that is not defined by secrecy or exile. Boyd positions himself not as the lone brave exception, but as part of an intergenerational network in which mentorship runs both ways: the elder cleric is sustained by the presence of those who come after him.

It’s also a subtle rebuke to churches that claim welcome while keeping queer people at arm’s length. Boyd names the friendship plainly, refusing the polite euphemisms that religious institutions often prefer. The intent is reassurance, yes, but also normalization: faith, work, and queer community can occupy the same sentence without apology.