The Third Coming: ‘Gay Jesus’ is returning to Utah Pride
In 2023, Ryan Barlow did something that would have shocked his former self.
Dressed in flowing white robes and a rainbow sash, he walked through the gates of the Utah Pride Festival not as a protestor, not as a devout Mormon, but as Gay Jesus — and the LGBTQ+ community welcomed him with open arms.
“And it was one of the most beautiful experiences I have ever had,” he said.
This year, he’s coming back.
What began as a personal act of healing has transformed into a symbol of hope for countless Utahns carrying the weight of religious trauma. Ryan, who was once a deeply committed member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, now walks with a different mission: to reclaim compassion, visibility, and queer joy — dressed as the very figure once used to shame and silence LGBTQ+ people.
“I grew up Mormon, like, strict Orthodox LDS,” Barlow recalls. “I was attending BYU in 2008 when the church told us to support California’s Proposition 8, so I did. Didn’t question it. I didn’t need to; the church was the source of eternal truths.”
But several years later, everything changed. It started with an essay, a deep dive into the church’s teachings on LGBTQ+ issues. The more he read, the more cracks formed in the theological foundations he once trusted completely. What emerged from that unraveling wasn’t just a new perspective — it was a calling, even as a new ally to the community.
“One thing I am passionate about now is queer pride. And that’s partially because now I understand that gender and sexuality is not black and white; it’s a spectrum, a colorful spectrum, that we all fall on somewhere,” he said.
From Doctrine to Dissonance
Ryan’s personal faith shift began with his growing awareness of the harm being done to others.
“I started to really see people’s pain,” he says. “The kind that’s wrapped in sermons and scriptures. And it was everywhere.”
That empathy turned into activism. And in 2023, it took on a visual form: Gay Jesus, an embodiment of radical love, holy mischief, and a divine reminder that queer people are sacred.
Miracles in the Crowd
What Ryan didn’t anticipate last year was just how deeply that costume, simple as it was, would resonate.
“Jesus was a celebrity! I had what I would estimate at least 300 individuals ask to take their photo with me, maybe as many as 500. Probably 100 people just wanted a hug from Jesus. I had a couple dozen separate people approach me to thank me for doing what I was doing. One lady embraced me in a hug and just stayed there for close to a minute, and when she finally pulled away, tears were rolling down her face. She said, ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be crying.’ I told her, ‘No, you really should. There’s plenty of religious trauma to go around.'”
For many at Utah Pride, Ryan wasn’t just a performer or a spectacle — he was a mirror, reflecting back a Jesus they wished they’d met growing up. A Jesus who embraced the marginalized, who flipped tables on oppressive systems, and who led with love, not judgment.
So was it controversial? “No. Not in the slightest,” Ryan says. “The people at Pride love the Jesus of the New Testament. The Jesus who taught to love one another, the Jesus who taught that the two Great Commandments are both to love, the Jesus who said that the blessed are those who are meek, who are lowly in heart, those who are peacemakers. They may not believe in his divinity, or even his existence, but they live his teachings — better than most Christians do.”
Utah Pride 2025: The Return of Gay Jesus
This year, Ryan returns to the Utah Pride Parade not just as a one-man act, but as part of something bigger. He’ll be marching with the Exmo community and Conversion Therapy Survivor Network—two groups leading efforts to support LGBTQ+ people harmed by high-demand religions, especially Mormonism.
Together, they’ll walk in honor of those still carrying shame that never belonged to them. They’ll walk for the kids who think they’re broken, for the adults still trying to unlearn self-hate, and for everyone who’s ever prayed to be someone else—just to be loved.
“There’s Nothing Wrong With You”
Ryan Barlow’s presence at Pride is more than clever cosplay. It’s a theological reclamation, a healing presence, and maybe even a little bit of holy disruption.
“I wanted to bring smiles,” he says. “But what I didn’t realize is how healing it would be—for them and for me.”
So if you see Gay Jesus at any of Utah’s Prides this year, including Davis County Pride in Layton on May 3 — stop him. Ask for a hug. Take a picture. Tell him your story. Because he’s not there to save you. He’s there to remind you that you never needed saving in the first place.
