When faith is meant to be practised in community, what happens if you are someone to whom that community does not always extend a full or warm welcome? Nicky speaks to the Things I Wish I Knew podcast about the space she inhabits as a trans Catholic theologian, and talks about how her academic and spiritual journeys ran alongside one another.
Questions of gender identity have become one of the most contested areas of contemporary public and ecclesial life. For many transgender people, the Church can be a place of tension rather than refuge, marked by misunderstanding, silence or outright hostility. Yet individual stories resist easy generalisation. In a recent conversation with Julia Corcoran on the Things I Wish I Knew podcast, Dr Nicolete Burbach, known as Nicky, a Catholic theologian and trans woman, reflects on her own journey of faith, identity and belonging within the Catholic Church. Her experience does not offer a template for others, but it does invite careful theological and pastoral attention.
Nicky’s path into theology was not a straightforward vocational decision. She describes arriving there almost by accident, initially imagining a different academic future. Over time, theological study became inseparable from a deeper reckoning with her own identity. Questions about God, the human person and embodiment were no longer abstract. They were personal, lived and at times painful. Theology became a means of reconciling faith and self-understanding, rather than choosing one at the expense of the other.
Living as a trans woman in the Church involves a constant sense of ambivalence. Nicky speaks honestly about this tension. On the one hand, Catholicism is the tradition that has shaped her imagination, prayer and intellectual life. On the other hand, it is a tradition within which transgender people are often spoken about without being listened to. That ambivalence is not resolved by optimism or goodwill alone. It is something that must be lived with, negotiated and revisited over time.
A recurring theme in the conversation is the centrality of community to the Christian life. As Nicky puts it, spiritual life is not a private endeavour but lived out in relationship. Her own experience within the Jesuit community, particularly through the London Jesuit Centre, has been one of welcome, accompaniment and practical care. That experience matters. It demonstrates that ecclesial spaces can offer genuine hospitality to trans people. At the same time, Nicky is careful not to universalise her story. Many trans people in Britain and elsewhere encounter suspicion or rejection in church settings. Others live in social and legal contexts far more hostile than her own. To acknowledge grace in one place is not to deny suffering in another.
The conversation also touches on the wider ecclesial climate, particularly under Pope Francis. Nicky notes a shift in tone towards a more explicitly pastoral approach. This does not mean that doctrinal questions have disappeared, nor that all tensions are resolved. Rather, it suggests a renewed emphasis on encounter, discernment and attention to concrete lives. For trans Catholics, this shift can make a meaningful difference, even while significant uncertainty remains about how teaching and practice will develop.
One of Nicky’s most distinctive theological contributions is her way of speaking about trans identity itself. She challenges the assumption that trans experience is best understood primarily as a problem to be solved or a deviation to be explained. Instead, she suggests that transness can be approached as a form of encounter with transcendence. This is not a romanticising claim, nor an attempt to spiritualise suffering. It is a proposal that experiences of gender transition can open profound questions about the limits of language, the mystery of embodiment and the relationship between self-knowledge and grace. In this sense, trans lives may have something to teach the Church about what it means to be human before God.
Throughout the conversation, Nicky resists both despair and triumphalism. She does not deny the harm that trans people have experienced within Christian contexts. Nor does she claim that welcome from certain communities cancels out structural problems. What she does offer is a quiet confidence in the possibility of growth. That confidence is rooted not in institutional guarantees but in a theological conviction about the goodness of creation and the patience of God.
Crucially, Nicky places her story within a specific social and ecclesial landscape. As a theologian working in the UK and Europe, with access to supportive academic and pastoral networks, her experience of inclusion is shaped by particular privileges. She is explicit that trans people in other contexts, including within this country, may face far greater risks and exclusions. Holding these differences in view is essential if we are to avoid mistaking individual, positive stories for evidence of a universal welcome.
Listening to voices like Nicky’s is not about finding easy answers. It is about allowing lived experience to inform theological reflection and pastoral practice. Her story invites the Church to ask not only how it speaks about transgender people, but also how it listens, accompanies and learns. In that sense, it is less a manifesto than an invitation to deeper attention.
Listen to ‘Things I Wish I Knew About Trans Inclusion in the Church’; and to get all of our new episodes and catch up on our back catalogue, subscribe now >>
You can follow us on Instagram @tiwik_pod.


