Gott in High Heels
The Church’s New Queer Icons
Table of Contents
Messiah vibes: Hundreds of people cheer the “divine” in Madrid Rosalía in a nun’s costume, an advertisement for her album “Lux”.
© IMAGO/Carlos Luján / imago images
New numbers are surprising: Gen Z, of all people, is rediscovering faith – in queer church services, TikTok devotions and the songs of the Catholic pop goddess Rosalía. But who really benefits from the desire for protection from “at the top”?
He holds queer services (and parties!) in his church, decorates the altar with rainbow flags, celebrates at the CSD and wears pink high heels under his robe. Tim Lahr is something like the Elton John of the Protestant church. The pastor (Cologne-Deutz/Poll community) and founder of the Queer Church of Cologne is known on social media under @amen_aber_sexy – around 65,000 people follow him on Instagram alone. He uses this reach to take the wind out of the sails of fundamentalists and haters in funny reaction videos and to interpret the Bible in a new, modern way.
Under the video of a young woman who lets her followers know that a woman who wants “a man of God” must also be “a woman of God” – by “submitting” herself to him – Lahr commented dryly: “That’s exactly the reason why I’m with a man, then I don’t have to subordinate a woman to myself.” Touché, Tim.
“Christfluencers” like Tim Lahr are one reason why church is becoming interesting again for younger people. New figures prove the trend: According to a recent Fowid survey, 16 to 29 year olds are the only age group where the probability of acceptance is higher than the probability of rejection. Anyway. And: The Catholic Church reported “only” 321,611 departures in 2024 – around 80,000 fewer than the year before. Things look similarly positive in the Protestant Church. A small triumph, because suddenly church seems to be an option again for Gen Z, who are growing up in constant crisis mode between the pandemic, climate change and war in Europe, looking for support and orientation.
“The church absolutely needs feminism”
This search is leading more and more people to social media, where popular pop stars like Rosalía show their love for God or approachable “Christ influencers” like Josephine Teske hold digital devotions. Teske, who has around 43,000 followers on Instagram (@seligkeitsdinge), shares a lot about her life as a single mother, feminist and pastor. She speaks openly about her depression, therapy and the stillbirth of her son.
In an interview, Teske emphasized that many are turning away from the church in disappointment. Therefore, she advocates for a church that is designed by people, not by God. For her, it is crucial that the church becomes feminist, as it still has an exclusionary effect – towards women and people of color. This call for a more inclusive church is also reflected in the way prominent figures like Rosalía live out their faith. For them, faith is a source of security and guidance – a protective element that can be felt in everyday moments. Rosalía says she feels protected and guided by her faith, prays the Lord’s Prayer every night and sees signs of a guardian angel in everyday events like finding a bird’s feather.
Rosalía with a halo and the Vatican cheers
Statements like these are, of course, a jackpot for the church: Cardinal José Tolentino de Mendonça, who heads the Vatican’s culture and education agency, says that Rosalía “addresses a deep need in contemporary culture for spirituality and emphasizes the religious experience as a fundamental experience of humanity.”
This trend, in which spiritual themes and religious symbols are reinterpreted through pop culture, is not entirely without controversy. It raises the question of the extent to which the appropriation of Catholic symbols, such as Rosalía’s halo bleached into her hair or a nun’s costume, actually has a deeper religious meaning or is rather a commercial game – similar to Madonna in the 80s. Although the “Berghain” interpreter hits the nerve of a generation that is looking for an alternative approach to (neo-)spirituality, it remains to be seen whether her “show” promotes a respectful approach to religious traditions or rather trivializes and appropriates them.
One thing is certain: the church is not suddenly the solution again. But the desire to believe in something is quite alive right now.
Who benefits from this boom?
Not only churches benefit from the new search for meaning, but also alternative spiritual providers (keyword: WitchTok), influencers and musicians. They recognize the business potential in the longing for spiritual content and serve this need of Gen Z.
And yet there is something comforting in all of this. Because the new longing for God shows that people continue to search for connection, meaning and hope. In a world that is often loud, overwhelming and fast-paced, faith, no matter what form it takes, offers moments of calm and pause. Ultimately, it’s less about where the strength comes from, but rather that it supports us in difficult times. And if God himself has to become an influencer – what’s wrong with that?