March 31st is International Transgender Day of Visibility, so I’ve come out of my writing hibernation to say to my trans and non-binary readers – I see you; I welcome you; I celebrate you! And I believe God does too, for anyone who needs to hear that today.

For some reason, opposing trans people seems to be the hill a lot of Christians want to die on these days. There are so many reasons I find faith-based transphobic arguments actively harmful and theologically unconvincing. (For a more in-depth Biblical analysis, check out my post from last year, “The Trans Ban and Why Christians should Give a Damn.”) One, the Genesis binary language of light/dark, land/sea, male/female is clearly a poetic device and not an exclusive anthology of all the diversity found in creation. Two, Jesus’ radical inclusion of women and the baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch in the New Testament are compelling evidence from Scripture that the Christian faith is about your heart, not your genitals. And three, it takes 15 minutes of research to see that transgender people face particular challenges from prejudice that cisgender people do not, so it seems to me the Biblical thing to do would be to follow the many, many verses about carrying each other’s burdens, loving one another, and looking to the interests of others.

I see no conflict between my faith and supporting my trans and non-binary family – in fact, my faith motivates me to greater love. But since faith without deeds is dead, what are some ways you can do good for trans people today (and all year)?

Loving is Giving (2 Corinthians 9:6-8)

There are many ways to give. Buy a book from a trans author or download music from a trans musician. Donate to a charity or organization looking out for transgender people.  Here are some suggestions:

• A local charity (use those Googling skills to find one!)
• The Trevor Project
• Transmission Ministry Collective
• National Center for Transgender Equality
• Transgender Emergency 101 Fund(started by Latinx activist Lorena Borjas, who just passed away from corona virus complications)

Loving is Learning (Galatians 6:2)

Sometimes we fear and resist what we do not understand. So it’s up to each of us to listen to transgender people to educate ourselves about their specific needs and stories. Whether your favorite media medium is Youtube, Netflix, Podcasts, or good ol’ fashioned paper-and-ink books, there are resources everywhere. Here are more resources to get started:

• Learn more about TDOV

  • Understanding the Transgender Community

  • International Transgender Day of Visibility (Wikipedia)

• Learn more about trans people past & present
  • 16 Remarkable Historical Figures who were Transgender

  • 16 Transgender Celebrities who are Changing Television

  • For Trans Day of Visibility, 38 Transgender People Sound Off on Technology and Media
• Read books by and about Trans People

  • The Best of Trans Literature recommended by Susan Stryker

  • Transgender Reading List from PFLAG

Loving is Speaking Up (John 15:12-13)

If you’re a cisgender person, now is not the time to be passive and silent in our support. Post about trans issues and accomplishments, share articles on your social media, call out hurtful comments when they come up in your friend groups and churches. Be vocal about welcoming trans people in your life and community. Use pronouns when you introduce yourself to normalize it, or instead of saying he/she, use the more inclusive “they.” And for God’s sake, use the person’s chosen name. If the Bible writers can do it (seriously, name changes happen all the time in the Bible and are always significant), you can too.

• Get more tips on being a good ally
  • Tips for Allies of Transgender People (from GLAAD)
  • Supporting the Transgender People in your Life: A Guide to being a Good Ally

 

So go put your faith and/or values into practice, and show some love to transgender and non-binary people!

Beloveds, you’re not alone.

Earlier this month, the United Methodist Church officially announced a proposal to split the denomination due to differences in beliefs about whether to conduct same-sex marriages and hire LGBTQ clergy. Both sides had apparently reached a point where they could no longer compromise their belief systems. Previously, any ordained pastors officiating same-sex marriage or living out as an LGBTQ person risked disciplinary action. If the proposal passes at the general conference in May, the United Methodist Church will become affirming of gay marriage and allow LGBTQ people to be ordained. A new traditionalist denomination, which will maintain the previous restrictions for LGBTQ marriages and ordination, would receive $25 million over four years. Local churches will be able to choose which branch they would like to join. As the 2nd biggest Protestant denomination in the US, this would be a significant step in the evolution of the church.

When I was studying Catholicism in undergrad, I had a season where I grieved the fracturing of the church. It seemed that something was lost in sacrificing a unified church for doctrinal differences, especially when the tenants of faith were so similar. I felt that the many denominations created confusion and damaging division. Who was the most right if anyone could start a new version of Christianity? If I had stayed in this mindset, maybe I would have felt sad about the splitting of the Methodist Church.

Since then, my faith has grown and expanded as I gain more knowledge and experience (as any healthy faith should). A simple Wikipedia search of the history of Christianity shows that we have never been a monolithic faith. From the Christians living under the Roman Empire in early BCE, to Martin Luther nailing his theses to a church door in Germany in 1517, to tent revivals on in the 19th century during the Second Great Awakening, organized Christianity has taken as many different forms. I don’t say this to undermine Christianity, but to emphasize that churches splitting over doctrinal details is nothing new or earth-shattering. Ultimately, I think it’s been healthy for Christianity because the many branches have yielded different kinds of fruit.

So I was taken aback when a few days after the announcement about the Methodist split, the Christian satirical website “The Babylon Bee” made a post titled “United Methodist Church decides whether to be Christian or not.”

When I read that, even knowing it was meant as a joke, I felt a range of emotions pass over me. Always first, when I read sentiments implying that queer people and Christianity are mutually exclusive, I feel an echo of the old fear and despair. For a heartbeat I panic that maybe they’re right, and God wants nothing to do with me. Maybe they’re right, and there is no place in the community from my upbringing. Maybe they’re right, and your sexual orientation is a requirement for salvation, and my loved ones and I are doomed to separation from God. This fear is the fruit of homophobia. When I’m feeling that chill creep over my soul again, these days I combat the lies with Romans 8:28-29: “Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Fortunately, the people writing content for the Babylon Bee don’t get to determine the status of my relationship with God. I believe that Jesus loves even me, and I have a faith community of people who remind me of this every week.

After the gut-response of fear passed, I felt furious because I knew this “joke” from the Babylon Bee was going to cause other queer people to react the same way I did initially. Perhaps those people wouldn’t have a good support system or weren’t as far along on their faith journey as I was. Perhaps they concluded that neither God nor God’s people could love them. Perhaps this would be the straw of shaming that broke their back and sent them to self-harm in desperation. When I think of the scared Christian teens, ingesting a doctrine of self-loathing and salvation-by-works, the millstone verse comes to mind.

But then I just felt sad. The people who wrote that article are blind to the good, beautiful fruit the Holy Spirit is bringing about in the LGBTQ-affirming branches of Christianity. Like in Jesus’ time, people who thought they could not enter the temple are being welcomed. People are being healed. There is freedom and joy instead of shame and suffering. There is thoughtful theology and a genuine love of Scripture. By making cisgender heterosexuality a tenant of salvation (which isn’t in either the Gospels or the Nicene Creed), they have missed where Christ is working.

The Babylon Bee’s “joke” (and the belief behind it) suggests that in the split of the United Methodist Church, there is only one “real” Christian denomination – the straight, cisgendered one. In an inverse way, I suppose I could relate to the Babylon Bee – I’m tempted to want ALL churches to be LGBTQ-affirming because I see the harm that’s being done, and I want to draw a clear distinction between “right” and “wrong” versions of Christianity. However, Christian Scripture, history, and experience show that when denominations split, the truth is more nuanced and complex than that.

Jesus spoke about what to do when the old and new clash. In Mark 2:21-22, he tells the following parable:

“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the new piece will pull away from the old, and a worse tear will result. And no one pours new wine into old winsekins. If he does, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. Instead, new wine is poured into new wineskins.”

I never understood that verse, but now I think it could speak wisdom into the division of the United Methodist Church. Some members of their denomination are deeply convicted to follow the Holy Spirit in a new direction, as Christians have been doing for centuries. Other members are not ready yet. Maybe they never will be, and while that makes me sad for what they’re missing and frustrated at the harm being done, the other side is also strongly convicted in what they believe is right. We cannot force any kind of faith upon anyone or it ceases to be real. Perhaps the best thing for both groups of people, as Jesus suggests, is to go in separate directions so that the essential purpose of both might be preserved. In the meantime, as the Bible reminds us so many times, we should not sit in judgement over each other about who the “real” Christian is. There is enough good work to do in the world without wasting time on that bullshit.

I’m currently reading Rachel Held Evans’ first book, Faith Unraveled: How the Girl Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask Questions. She has many beautiful quotes about why we shouldn’t fear change in our spiritual beliefs or differences in Scripture interpretation. This was one of my favorites, and I think it applies to this situation:

“I have a feeling that if Darwin turns out to be right, the Christian faith won’t fall apart after all. Faith is more resilient than that. Like a living organism, it has the remarkable ability to adapt to change. At our best, Christians embrace this quality, leaving enough space within orthodoxy for God to surprise us every now and then. At our worst, we kick and scream our way through each and every change, burning books and bridges and even people along the way…if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that faith can survive just about anything, so long as it’s able to evolve.”

To use her biology metaphor, only when cells divide is more abundant life able to flourish. So I pray for all the Christians in both parts of the United Methodist Church, and I take heart in the evolution process, for that means Christianity is still growing and alive.
Remember dearly beloveds, that you are not alone.

A year ago, I started this blog to share my reflections about the intersection of queer folks and Christianity. I wrote about how straight Christians could better love LGBTQ people, and I wrote for LGBTQ people who are also Christians. I wrote about the Bible, the news, my life, and the writers that impacted me. I’ll always feel like I can do more, but it wasn’t a bad start. If you’ve been following the blog from the beginning, thank you! You give me hope. If you’re new here, I welcome AND affirm you. Feel free to reach out.

As I make my first post of Year 2, I want to take a minute to process what I learned last year, and how I want to apply that to 2020. Here are my top three take-aways from my experiences writing an LGBTQ-affirming Christian blog in 2019.

1. No matter how eloquent your writing, you won’t be able to change someone’s mind if their heart isn’t ready to hear what you have to say.

I hate these kind of truths because they’re always painful for me. I’m an Enneagram Type 4, so when I’m at my integrated healthy self, I move toward the best of Type 1. In that mindset, when I see something wrong in the world, I believe with enough education and passion, we can fix it. At my normal Type 4, I want so desperately for my words to mean something to someone because I want to know that my life is significant.  Those two motivations make it especially frustrating when someone dismisses what I write, especially if it’s a topic I’ve researched and believe is important. So when a loved one tells me “I’ll die before I change my belief that all gay relationships are sinful” (true story that happened last year), I feel useless and hopeless.

So in 2020, I’m praying for peace and wisdom about those conversations. I won’t stop writing or speaking up, but I also can’t force a conversation if the other person has put up a wall. I’m also practicing seeing that even seemingly dead-end exchanges can still mean something. I have to trust that my words could be part of growing a seed that I don’t get to see. I’ve also been trying to use these interactions to understand where the communication breaks down. For example, a recurring obstacle I’ve encountered in discussing LGBTQ inclusion relates to how people approach the Bible in general. We all read the Bible with our own personal cultural lens, and we all pick and choose which parts to apply. This is actually a good thing, or how would we know whether to follow the God of the book of Judges and annihilate whole cultures, or the God of the book of Acts who commands the early church leaders to welcome Gentiles into the faith? Every Christian uses discernment when applying Scripture to our lives, but if someone isn’t willing to acknowledge that, I can’t discuss the specifics of how and why we interpret parts of the Bible in different ways. I want to cultivate patience in these conversations so that I can learn where the deeper disconnects are occurring. That’s the hard work of changing hearts.

Holy Spirit, help me to know when to push a conversation and when to trust my part is one of many in someone else’s story. Show me where we are misunderstanding each other and give me the courage to confront it so that I may be part of positive change this year. 

2. I am not alone in this conversation, and there are so many LGBTQ and allied voices speaking up in Christianity right now.

When I started writing this blog, I wondered if I was a lone voice in the wilderness, but even a little digging made me realize that there are more books, blogs, and podcasts made by queer and affirming pastors, Christians, and theologians than I could consume in a year! People smarter and more experienced than me have been forging this path for decades. Their work has been influential in the spiritual growth of people like me, who wondered if there really is room in this faith for our authentic selves and our loved ones. I see now that I am surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses who show that Jesus is for all people. Even a brief study shows that LGBTQ Christians and their allies are producing good fruit, to borrow from Scripture.

In 2020, I commit to going through more of the “resource list” I’ve compiled for this site. Everyone should check out that list for themselves, but since I know not everyone has time to do an independent study of theology and sexuality, I will also summarize and analyze what I’ve been reading/listening to/watching in this blog so that others can access the information too. I look forward to deepening my understanding of God and queer experiences with Christianity.

Jesus, thank you for leading the way in showing us that we are all beloved by our Creator so that others may heal as you healed, help as you helped, and include as you included. Continue to bring strength to those doing your work this year so that we can emulate their example and be encouraged that your Presence is living and active even today.

3. Just write.

Every time I wrote a post here last year, a hundred little slithering doubts crawled through my brain. I worried I didn’t have a theology degree, so how could I write about Scripture? I thought maybe I’m too young and new to this, so I should just keep my mouth shut. I feared the cutting words of the non-affirming Christian gatekeepers on Twitter, or worse, the words of disappointment from loved ones close to me. And what if my words wouldn’t mean anything to anyone? Why write at all?

But who am I to tell God that I cannot be used if God gives me an such a desire and opportunity? I received a bunch of Rachel Held Evans’ books for Christmas, and I started with her first book, Faith Unraveled. She wrote it in 2010 when she was 27 years old! Here I am, doubting if my 30-year-old self could ever write something worthwhile. What if she had waited until to write about her faith experiences? She had no way of knowing that her life would end so much sooner than expected at age 37. What would the world have missed if she didn’t write because she felt it wasn’t good enough? I know we’re not all RHEs, but her example shows that God can use anyone who is willing to share and serve, regardless of age or experience. So in 2020, I’m going to ignore the second-guessing and keep writing because we’ve all been given a story and knowledge up to this exact day of our lives, and that has value.

God, give me the courage to face down my doubts and share my testimony with others. Be with me as I continue to learn and write. Help me to not become weary of doing good and to have faith that you often prefer to work through the small and seemingly insignificant characters of this story. 

Have a happy queer year, everyone! May you know how thoroughly you matter, and that you are not alone.

 

I’ve always felt particularly intrigued by Bible stories featuring women as the protagonists (#representationmatters). Perhaps because only two of the sixty-six books of the Bible are named for women, I clung to any mention of women getting to be significant characters because it encouraged me that I might be important to the story as well. Although I know the woman in the Bible were living in a very different time period and culture than I am, I still read their stories looking for truths that I can apply to my life. I absorbed and admired the faith of Miriam, the resourcefulness of Rahab, the courage of Esther, the determination of Ruth, and (especially during the Advent season) the strength of Mary, mother of Jesus. So this year, I again found myself reflecting on that young woman of the Gospel books who gave birth to the Son of God.

How could her story possibly relate to me? The setting and circumstances feel like a world away. I have not been entrusted with such a monumental task as carrying the incarnation of God-made-flesh who would be the Savior of the world. Nor do I believe that I would have had the bravery and belief that she did. I’ve never even been pregnant, so that is not a point of connection at this stage of my life. How can I claim to have anything in common with the most important woman in the Bible?

And yet, we also carry the Spirit of God within us. It may not be in the literal sense that Mary did, but we are also given a gift in the love of Jesus and the voice of the Holy Spirit. We believe that God is still present with us. And like Mary, sometimes God asks us to carry that Light in ways that are scary, or difficult, or put us in uncomfortable circumstances, so that others might be blessed.

For me in 2019, the task I felt God calling me to carry was to write and work toward healing the wounds between LGBTQ people and non-affirming Christians, both individually and systematically. As I hit “publish” on my first post, I was trembling. There were going to be consequences for being vocal about where I stood on this issue. I would be making myself emotionally vulnerable by coming out publicly and speaking for other LGBTQ people regularly. Following through on where the Holy Spirit was leading me was going to hurt (again).

But in this risk was a way, albeit small in comparison, to relate to the Holy Mother. In Luke 1, when Gabriel greets Mary and explains the work God has in mind, I have to imagine she was scared. To agree to this task meant serious consequences in her community and family. She would be misunderstood and be putting herself at risk, not just emotionally in her situation, but physically as well. She would be starting down a road that would be an ongoing struggle. And yet, Mary replies, “I am the Lord’s servant; may your word to me be fulfilled.”

If Mary, who agreed to undertake a much more important and dangerous work for God than anything we could know, had the courage to say yes to the task appointed to her, how might we be encouraged by her example to take on the world-changing work God may be asking of us? For me, that will look like continuing to live out loud about who I am and what I believe, whether that means having difficult conversations with non-affirming Christians or sharing the love of God with LGBTQ people who have been hurt and mistreated.

There is another part of Luke 1 that spoke to me this year. The work of God feels heavy and scary at times, but like Mary, what we are carrying in us is Good News. I do this work because I believe God loved us enough to become one of us so that all people could be redeemed. Advent is the perfect time to remember that this belief is directly connected to the baby Mary carried, and it’s a message of joy. Mary’s song about what God is doing through her is one of enthusiastic praise: God is faithful and will help the outcasts of society! God has not abandoned us. God has chosen the humble over the powerful. I want to see my own activist and religious work in that light as well and give thanks for getting to be part of it.

This chapter also reminds us that we are not alone in what we carry. When Mary connects with her cousin Elizabeth who is pregnant with John the Baptist, they share an overjoyed moment realizing that the other person is also part of the work of God. The feeling of “wait, you too?!?” is powerful and life-giving. I can imagine a little of that joy thinking about how many voices I’ve found this year who are doing the same work of fighting the sin of homophobia and truly loving LGBTQ people. Pastors like Rev. Emmy Kegler who are creating safe spaces for queer people of faith and those who are questioning. Theologians like Pete Enns who are studying Scripture deeply to understand how we should be applying it to the real people and relationships of today. Authors like Austen Hartke who are willing to share their personal experiences to help others. Speakers like Jen Hatmaker who was willing to risk her standing in non-affirming Evangelical circles to stand in solidarity with LGBTQ people. And of course, my immediate circle of friends who are also doing all of these things. Like Mary and Elizabeth, knowing that others are doing God’s work fills me with all the Advent gifts of hope, peace, joy, and more love.

So my prayer for this Advent season is this: May we have the courage to carry what the Lord has asked of us from this year into the new one. May we be able to recognize that the work is also a gift and have joy in seeing what God does through us. And may we be reminded that we are not alone.

 

 

A month ago, I was scrolling through Facebook when I saw a post from an old high school acquaintance that surprised me. I knew this person was a conservative, Evangelical Christian who was against gay people getting married, and yet she was sharing a quote by lesbian talk show host Ellen Degeneres. The original post was Ellen’s response to criticism about her friendship with George W. Bush.

In case you missed the internet hubbub, here is the quote from the daytime TV celebrity:

“Here’s the thing: I’m friends with George Bush. In fact, I’m friends with a lot of people who don’t share the same beliefs that I have. We’re all different, and I think that we’ve forgotten that we’re all different. But just because I don’t agree with someone on everything doesn’t mean I’m not gonna be friends with them. When I say be kind to one another, I don’t mean only the people that think the same way you do. I mean be kind to everyone. It doesn’t matter.”

My Facebook acquaintance was applauding Ellen because even though she and Ellen had “different values,” they could agree that we need to treat each other with kindness.

Now, only an asshole would react negatively to such a sentiment, right? I mean, who would be against kindness? Isn’t “everyone getting along” a good thing? And yet, this post left me feeling frustrated. After mulling it over for a month, I think I can articulate why this kind of “kindness” feels empty to me.

Quotes and speeches don’t occur in a vacuum. That same week of the Ellen “controversy,” the Supreme Court was reviewing a case to determine whether LGBT people were protected from being fired for their gender identity or sexual orientation. In case that needs clarification, firing someone for those reasons is an incredibly unkind thing to do. I wondered if the same people sharing Ellen’s call for kindness would also stand up for the rights of their queer coworkers. Would the people sharing this, who believe marriage is exclusively for male-female couples, believe that lesbians like Ellen are excluded from Christianity unless they divorce their spouse? That sentiment is really dissonant with the whole “be kind to one another” platitude.

There’s also an assumption that because the country is divided, kindness is equivalent to not challenging each other about beliefs. I’m happy to “agree to disagree” about matters of opinion, like whether pineapple goes on pizza (it does), or the best way to save our overheating planet (there are many good ideas). Sometimes, though, we have legitimate reasons for disagreeing. Not everyone is able to ignore politics. I had friends and coworkers scared that week because of that Supreme Court case. Is it really “kind” to disregard their concerns in the name of just getting along? If civility and politeness are more important than loving our neighbor, we have gone astray of Scripture. 

Kindness is a fruit of the spirit, but love is a commandment. Of course everyone praises an inspiration quote that makes us feel good and doesn’t require anything of us. Nice isn’t the same as kind. It’s a veneer of kindness, but if under the surface there are beliefs or actions that harm your neighbor, it’s not real. The belief that LGBT have a right to live with the same freedoms as any other person is not equivalent to an opinion that they should be denied those protections because of those values is directly damaging to real people. Voting against laws that protect LGBT people is not kind. Excluding LGBT Christians from your worship team is not kind. Turning a deaf ear to the concerns of LGBT people is not kind. If we hold a doctrinal belief that is keeping us from loving our neighbor through works as well as words, maybe we should reexamine that theology.

What might real, deep transforming kindness-rooted-in-love look like in action, if we practiced what we preached?

It might look like an LGBTQ person who chooses to maintain a relationship with someone who believes queer people should not exist, or that they are excluded from the Kingdom of God, or that their marriage can never be good and holy. Being able to maintain a friendship in the face of such beliefs (which hurt, no matter how stable you are) is a truly transforming act of kindness that is directly rooted in love.

Perhaps kindness is attending your queer loved one’s wedding, even though you think gay marriage is wrong, because it means a lot to your loved one. Or it’s showing warmth and hospitality to your son’s boyfriend, because Jesus never put the law above people.

Perhaps kindness is giving your loved ones time to untangle toxic beliefs that were never challenged or questioned, and acknowledging when they make progress, even if it’s incrementally or not as fast as you wish. Anyone can change, but some may take longer than others due to their previous experiences, and being patient with that shows kindness.

Perhaps kindness is taking the time to examine your theological beliefs, to be open to how the Spirit is moving, and to learn about other people’s perspectives on LGBTQ inclusion in the church.

Perhaps kindness is engaging your Uncle Joe at Thanksgiving when he claims that gay people are ruining the country.

Perhaps kindness is standing up for a queer loved one by telling Uncle Joe we won’t tolerate hurtful talk like that at the holiday gatherings.

Perhaps kindness is walking away when someone says something damaging to your mental or spiritual health, or setting boundaries on those relationships, because kindness to yourself is valid too.

Kindness can take many forms, but without real love, it might as well be a clanging cymbal. Ellen’s call for kindness might be an ok starting point, but it doesn’t let us off the hook of actually doing the internal and external work to care for our neighbor. Kindness rooted in love might sometimes involves disagreeing, self-reflection, listening, forgiving, and admitting we might have been wrong. It’s often difficult and messy, but it’s more believable than a meme on social media. If the greatest of these is love, true kindness must grow out of that, and the evidence will be that it will yield good fruit that nourishes and multiples. I want to see more of that kind of kindness in the world.

This Thanksgiving week, know that you are not alone.

 

 

 

I’ve been following Beth Moore’s twitter account with honest feminist Christian glee in the past few months. She is a Southern Baptist spokeswoman – a title with an important distinction from preacher according to many pastors of real churches who responded with condemnation when she used the word “preaching” to describe a speaking event she was attending. Beth was met with a misogynistic torrent of people claiming she had no authority from God to use that term. Only men could be preachers, because Paul says so (and Protestants criticize Catholics for elevating the early church founders too much). I watched Beth defend her choice of words – if God was speaking through her, how could humans speak against that? Did not God also call women specifically, even in ancient Scripture? And ultimately, why were other Christians putting those obstacles in the way of sharing the Gospel? I was heartened by her courage to stand up to people who seemed to think that despite a lifetime of writing, studying the Bible, and speaking, Beth was somehow less qualified than her male counterparts simply on account of her being born with a vagina. I wondered if I had been shown examples of female pastors as a teenager, if I might not have been able to discern a call to lead ministry, not just be a minister’s wife.

However, a recent tweet / blog post from Beth has left me with a feeling of lamentation. She recently wrote an explanation of why she removed some of her commentary in one of her earlier books Praying God’s Word. She wanted to amend her earlier teaching that same-sex relationships were not just sinful, but “satanic.” According to Beth, she wanted to remove that wording due to years of feedback from people who were hurt by the severity of her tone. Specifically, she realized that her word choice, and the beliefs behind them, were creating a stumbling block to the Gospel because people would reach that passage of her book and read no further (turns out telling people they’re Extra Evil tends to push them away from religion). She had also her evolved her understanding of Scripture to conclude that the Bible does not support gay relationships being especially sinful.

Although I suppose this is “progress” (awesome, you’re not calling people I care about abominations anymore!), this is also where my lamentation began. While Beth believes same-sex attraction is not worse than any other sin, she holds fast to the belief that it is still a sin, unlike heterosexual attraction. She reiterates that she believes that the Bible sets apart marriage as a covenant “between a man and a woman” (although if she really wanted to be “traditional,” wouldn’t it be one man and multiple women, according to the Old Testament, or that her husband should be the sole authority/property owner of the household, according to the New Testament?) She goes on to say that she wants to focus on the fact that she herself is a sinner, just like the possibly gay 13-year-old reading her book, and she tries to find common ground by saying that she would have been stoned to death according to Old Testament law as well. She writes that she is “weary of our blind spots” and hypocrisy, because no single sin (in this instance, the sin of being born with an attraction to the same sex) is worse than another.

Her words grieved me for many reasons.

Lamentations

I used to believe that only “positive” emotions were godly ones. However, Scripture is full of people lamenting and crying out to God from difficult situations. They were upset about the state of their community. They wept over feeling alone and betrayed. They wondered if there was any point to it all since evil always seemed to triumph. I didn’t really understand those verses when I was younger; they always seemed such downers! But as I’ve gotten older and experienced more of the world, I see the “negative” feelings in Scripture as a beautiful thing. The Bible not only gives us glimpses into the nature of the Divine, it’s also a record of human experience. It’s reassuring that the heroes of faith experienced pain and anger as well, and that we are in the company of saints and prophets when we cry out to the Creator. So in that spirit, here is why my spirit is heavy after reading Beth Moore’s blog post.

I’m lamenting because in her message that marriage can only ever be holy if it’s between a man and woman, she discounts the marriages of all of the gay Christians who have already made vows to their partners before God. Beth claims that these relationships are sinful, and unless they repent of that sin (break those vows?), there is no place for them at the table of God. I lament that gay Christians must once again feel the pain of that exclusion and rejection from the people who are supposed to be their religious family.

I’m lamenting because simply telling gay people they’re not demonic is not enough. She’s still saying that the love they feel for another human is a sin to be avoided and discarded if they are to be true followers of Jesus. I lament for the queer Christians who feel like they must repress part of their created self in order to access God’s love, and for all the people who will never experience the love of Jesus because his disciples have turned them away.

I’m lamenting because Beth worries about her words being a stumbling block to the Gospel, but all she does was change her words, not the message which remains: gay love is always a sin. She recently tweeted: “Can I just get this one thing off my chest? I reserve the right to sit with anyone in the high school cafeteria that I please. If you don’t like them, you get to take your tray somewhere else. That’s the beauty of it. You be you.” However, in this blog post maintaining that gay relationships are incompatible with being a faithful Christian, she has effectively put up a sign saying that they are not really welcome in her Christian club and can’t really be themselves. I lament over the pain that will cause for so many.

I’m lamenting that she should have found common ground with gay people not as equal “sinners,” but as minorities that have been discarded by a religious majority. She was just lectured on how women have no place at the pulpit, and she chose to make a stand for inclusion in that situation. She could have used that as a way to empathize with gay people, and gay Christians in particular. I lament because she missed this opportunity to use her personal experience to better understand the experiences of others, stand up for them, and serve God’s children.

I’m lamenting because she could have done the Biblical study work to reach a different conclusion. She already demonstrated that she could approach the Bible in this way by claiming that God could absolutely call women to be preachers. She even applies historical context in the blog post when she mentions she would have been “thrown out of the camp” in the Old Testament, but she does not apply that principal equally to gay Christians. Instead of seeing the ways in which society and Scripture progress over time, she concludes that although the rules of “sin” have changed for women (yay for not having to sit in a tent during our period!), love between gay people is still always sinful – they just shouldn’t be stoned anymore. She updates some aspects of Scripture but does not do the analysis to apply that to queer Christians experiences. I lament that she has settled for an interpretation of Scripture that will continue to hurt people.

I’m lamenting because Beth has a platform that speaks to many Christians, especially in places of the country that are not accepting, let alone affirming, of LGBT people. She has the potential to influence many people, and she could have been a leader in the Southern Baptist denomination. I lament that her words reinforce existing harmful beliefs about gay relationships and stall the progress of rebuilding bridges that many Christians are trying to do.

Praise

I mentioned earlier that one of the things I love about Scripture is how it captures a range of human experience and emotion. In one chapter of Psalms, David writes about how he despairs of ever seeing justice, and the next chapter he is praising God for the blessings in his life. There is time and place for both. So in the spirit of living out one of my therapist’s favorite verses – Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things (Philippians 4:8) – here are some praises for good things that are happening in my faith. (This next part will be full of links to resources and information so that any readers can join in the good things happening as well!)

I praise God for the faith leaders I’ve discovered in the past few months who are living out Christ’s love in service and sacrifice to others. There are so many pastors welcoming and affirming LGBT+ people, and many LGBT+ pastors who are writing and preaching the Good News: God loves you as you are, and you are welcome at the table. My Twitter feed is now full of LGBT and Ally voices that give me hope and make me feel like I still belong in this faith: Emmy Kegler, Anthony Peter, Jeff Chu, Laura Jean Truman, Austen Hartke, Jen Hatmaker, Nadia Bolz-Weber, Jess Kast (to name a few). They have led me to other writers, theologians, ministers, and regular people figuring out and living out their faith. I praise God for the work these people are doing to bring God’s love to all, and the absolute life-giving JOY #faithfullyLGBT has brought to my life.

I praise God for the Christian writers who have done the hard work of wrestling with Scripture and their preconceived notions about LGBT+ people. There are so many books and blogs with in-depth Scripture analysis around queer issues, from intersex Christians to Christians in same-sex relationships, to Christians writing about the specific challenges for queer people of color. Instead of ignoring the Bible, these writers engage with Scripture and history. They have reached the conclusion that being Christian and being LGBT+ are not mutually exclusive, and they have welcomed that population into the faith community. People like the late Rachel Held Evans, Sarah Bessey, Austin Channing Brown, Peter Enns, Megan Defranza, James Brownson, Matthew Vines, and David and Constantino Khalaf (to name a few). I have only begun to read and study the significant amount of works regarding the intersection of LGBT issues and Christian theology. I praise God for these writers’ open hearts, careful study, and their conviction that LGBT+ people have a place in the Christian church.

I praise God for the churches that welcome LGBT+ people in both words and deeds, who consider them full and equal participants in the faith. I have started attending a church, Commonwealth Baptist (if any readers are in the Alexandria, VA area!), and they practice what they preach: same-sex couples hold hands and sing hymns together, LGBT+ believers lead children’s church, and transgender people can be exactly who God made them to be without disrespect or judgement. I praise God for the beautiful diversity in that church and the kindness people show to one another.

I praise God for gatherings on a large scale of affirming and Faithfully LGBT Christians, like the Evolving Faith Conference. How beautiful and encouraging to see that we are not single voices crying in the desert, but a vibrant, vocal new tradition of the Christian Church. There are so LGBT people and allies doing such good work within the Christian faith. The Gospel spreads, not through clinging to every prejudice of the past, but through using our Scripture and tradition to inform how we can radically love people here and now. We may be a group that is pressed but we are not crushed. I praise God that the we are a growing force and we do not need to go out alone.

I praise God for the dear close friends I have who first demonstrated the possibilities of loving Jesus and also being queer. To quote King George in the musical Hamilton: “I wasn’t aware that was something a person could do!” Their example and faithfulness changed my life and made me realize that my faith community could be bigger and more beautiful than I had even imagined. They pointed me to resources like the ones I’ve already mentioned in this post, they had deep conversations with me, and they lived out Christ’s love in their lives. I am truly (not just “hashtag”) blessed to know such people, and I praise God for creating them and bringing them into my story.

And yes, I even praise God for Beth Moore’s post. I stand by my analysis that her words and theology remain hurtful to many Christians and potentially damaging to her ability to share the Gospel. However, I must acknowledge that her perspective has shifted from a less harsh stance on the issue. She listened to people who gave her feedback that her previous words where harmful, and she revised them. I disagree with her current theological conclusions, but I praise God that she was open to discussion with the LGBT community and adjusted her worldview and Biblical view accordingly, because if she was able to do that, there is hope that perhaps someday she can make another shift to seeing LGBT people and relationships as holy too.

Finally, I give praise to God for wonderfully making us and for Their promise to stay with us. I give praise that Christ died for all and that He specifically reached out to the people in the margins, the ones excluded from religious communities at the time. I give praise for the Holy Spirit and Her movement in the Christian faith right now as more hearts and minds become affirming of queer Christians and more people realize they can be joyfully and faithfully LGBT.

I hope this post can remind you today that you are not alone.

Ally (noun) – one that is associated with another as a helper : a person or group that provides assistance and support in an ongoing effort, activity, or struggle

– often now used specifically of a person who is not a member of a marginalized or mistreated group but who expresses or gives support to that group

Many straight people claim to love the LGBT+ community, but what does a good ally actually look like?

Let me start with what statements or behaviors are do NOT make an ally:

1. “I love my gay friends, but…” You just invalidated the first part of that sentence with that little conjunction “but.” Your love is conditional, and therefore not very useful or meaningful for your LGBT+ friends / family. Or as Jon Snow says here.…l
2. “Gay marriage is fine, I just don’t get these transgenders…” Ok, then educate yourself. Go read trans history and stories, or just sit back and listen to trans people. If you really want to be an ally, you have to do the work to understand. And use someone’s preferred pronouns. It’s such a small thing for us to do, but it means a lot.
3. Rainbow-washing – if a company (or an individual) uses rainbows in their advertising during Pride month but doesn’t support the LGBT+ community in any way for the 11 other months of the year, they’re not allies. I love representation as much as the next bisexual gal (I see you Rosa Diaz / Stephanie Beatriz!! #bicon), but if you support policies and politicians that deny trans people their rights or uphold discrimination against gay couples, your rainbows mean nothing.

Now, what does a good ally look like? To demonstrate, I will tell you a story about my husband Zak at the Baltimore Pride parade.

First, for context, I’ll share a few things about Zak. My husband is an introvert. He would very much prefer to be in the kitchen making food for a party or standing against the wall with a glass of whiskey in hand, than initiating conversation with strangers. Crowds usually exhaust him. His preferred climate is north, and if he won the lottery, he would build a cabin on a snowy mountain somewhere and host friends when he wasn’t hibernating. My husband is also straight, like a “0” if we were using the Kinsey Scale.

Last weekend, the LGBT+ resource group at my company (I’m working for some true allies, and it fills me with joy!) marched in Baltimore’s Pride parade. It was a relatively small parade, which was fine because this was our first year, and we were still a small group. Friends and family were invited to walk with us. So there is my solid-colors-preferred-unless-it’s-plaid husband, surrounded by people bedecked in rainbows, walking in solidarity with our group. Zak drove me to Baltimore, made us sandwiches, and participated in a crowd-filled event for an hour in the heat of June. He chatted with my coworkers who were marching and even stood behind our company sign to make sure it didn’t blow back in the wind. He was never for a second concerned that people might question his sexuality walking in the middle of a bunch of gays. He never made it about him, because he was focused on being supportive.

That is true masculinity right there, folks. Zak prioritizes listening and understanding, and so he never makes someone feel “less than.” He uses his privilege to help others. That is also true love – for me as an individual, and for his LGBT+ friends and family. Even though he was out of his comfort zone, surrounded by crowds, heat, and noise, he stood with us.

Zak is what being a real ally looks like. I’m aware that he’s is a rare find (I still can’t believe he was single when I snatched him up), but if people really want to be good allies to the LGBT+ community, Zak’s actions and attitude at the Baltimore Pride Parade should be the standard. May we all behave with such selfless love as my husband this month, and every month out of the year.

You are not alone.

“Same-Sex Attracted”

As I’ve started to wade into more difficult discussions of LGBT+ inclusion in the church, I’ve found that often the conversations are more nuanced than someone trying to bludgeon you over the head with Leviticus (although that is certainly still a popular reaction, unfortunately). One of the more common arguments I’ve heard is: being gay is not inherently sinful – BUT if you act on your desires, even in a loving and committed relationship, you will be sinning. Therefore, God’s will for all gay people is celibacy. There are several organizations such as Living Out, who teach this idea. Instead of referring to themselves as “gay Christians,” they say that they are “same-sex-attracted.” As long as they don’t act on their supposedly sinful desire for romantic relationships with the same sex, they are not actually gay and can stay in “obedience to Jesus.” Instead, Living Out encourages “same-sex attracted” people to be content to find intimacy and fellowship in Christ and in non-romantic friendship with other Christians. They must forsake their innately sinful LGBT identity in order to find a holy identity in Christ.

On one hand, I appreciate Living Out’s stance against verbal and physical violence toward LGBT+ people. That should just be a basic standard for religions, but here we are in a world where trans women are murdered and public leaders call for genocide of LGBT people. Living Out acknowledges each individual’s God-given dignity and call for honesty about the internal same-sex “struggle” instead of repression. I can see how this belief would be appealing to both heterosexual and gay people who grew up in the Evangelical tradition. If you’re LGBT+, Living Out presents a way to stay in the fold, to please God, and to have a community. If you’re bisexual it’s even easier – you can even have intimacy, as long as you choose the right (re: opposite) sex to be your lawfully wedded person, and your other attraction is just another sin to avoid. And if you’re heterosexual, you have a way to love and “accept” gay people in your church without having to challenge your assumptions about Scripture.

I appreciate the diversity of beliefs within the gay Christian community, and for some people, celibacy may be their God-ordained path. However, I think Living Out’s beliefs become problematic when presented as the only way to live faithfully to God’s will. That stance can mentally harm people by making the quality of their faith about their good works and ability to follow the rules. And the idea that celibacy is the only godly way to be gay just doesn’t hold up with how the Bible’s authors write about sin, desire, identity, and the purpose of marriage and celibacy. So get comfy, grab your favorite beverage, and let’s open our Bibles, shall we?

The Old Law and the New

The Old Testament is all about those commandments. There are the popular ones that most of us can agree on: don’t murder, honor your parents, love your neighbor. Then there’s the weirdly specific ones we ignore in 2019: don’t eat anything from the water without fins or scales, don’t wear clothing with two kinds of materials, don’t let a woman into the sanctuary after childbirth until a month has passed. There’s hundreds of books analyzing the purpose of Old Testament Law (seek out Jewish scholars for the most in-depth analysis), but one of the main themes is the idea that God wants Israel to be set apart from other countries and religions.

But of course, that’s only half of the Bible’s story for the Christian faith. In the New Testament, Jesus builds on the Law in shocking ways. Instead of just addressing the behavior – do not murder – Jesus teaches that the intention matters as well: “I tell you anyone who is angry with his brother or sister will be subject to judgement.” He reverses the former understanding of clean and unclean, or rather fulfills it. He touches women and lepers, calls out the hypocritical hearts of religious leaders, and becomes the final sacrifice for sins. Christ taught and demonstrated that sin, like holiness, happens from the inside out: “Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body? But the things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them.” Our inner feelings and thoughts matter as much as the actions that spring from them. What a challenging and amazing message, because it holds us accountable for our intentions and also opens the door for those who were considered “unclean” to be part of God’s kingdom!

Now, instead of God’s people being marked by their separateness, the Good News of the New Testament is that Christ’s love has been extended to include all people. In a vision to Peter, God continues to transform the clean vs. unclean narrative: “Do not call anything impure which God has made clean.” God is inviting Gentiles in just as they are, without requiring them to be circumcised or change what they eat, because salvation comes through belief and just not behavior anymore.

Paul also focuses on intent instead of specific behaviors in his letters to the new Christians. Galatians 5 has a list of destructive mindsets to avoid, including hatred, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, drunkenness and sexual immorality. He also lists attitudes to emulate among which are love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness. The internal state informs external behaviors. 

So it’s clear that the idea of “it’s only a sin if you act on it” is not necessarily supported by Jesus and the early Christian leaders. If someone cuts me off in traffic and I curse them out in my head, it’s the same as if I did it to their face. I need God to work in me from the inside, helping me become a more patient person. Furthermore, the Spirit is moving to redefine what is considered “wrong” in terms of behavior. Peter and Paul aren’t focused on rituals, they’re concerned with the motivations behind the actions.

What does this mean for groups like Living Out that teach same-sex attraction is only a sin if you act on the desire, and all same-sex romantic interactions are inherently sinful?If sin comes from the heart before the action, then intention matters. So either same-sex attraction is inherently sinful whether you act on it or not, which would create a self-destructive, persistent sense of shame that seems contrary to the freedom of the Gospel. Or we agree that same-sex attraction is not in itself wrong sinful, in which case gay relationships are no more sinful than straight ones – meaning that the question of whether the relationship is “godly” should be determined not by sexual orientation, but by whether the couple is practicing love, patience, and kindness.

Celibacy & Desire

The idea that celibacy is the only godly solution to being gay also fails to acknowledge how Scripture discusses celibacy. It’s clear from the Bible that celibacy should not be forced on a person as a deterrent to desire. It’s meant to be a chosen lifestyle that serves God in a particular way. Paul’s writings about whether it’s better to be married or not leaves the question open-ended: ultimately it depends on the person and what God is calling them to do.

1 Corinthians 7 is one of Paul’s most in-depth letters about marriage and celibacy, and it turns out that there are no black-and-white answers. In one sentence, Paul says he wishes everyone could be celibate like him so they can better serve God. But the next paragraph, he acknowledges that if “your passions are too strong,” you should get married so that those desires find an holy, healthy outlet.

To add some context to this chapter, the early Corinthian church was concerned that their sexuality, even within marriage, would distract from following God, so they were practicing abstinence within marriage as well, trying to avoid desire to focus on holiness. But Paul doesn’t see sexual and romantic desire as a sin in itself; only when it became out-of-control or wholly self-seeking does it become something negative. He views marriage as a relationship where that desire can be directed toward the greater individual and community good and advises married people to not avoid their sexual expression so that they are not tempted to adultery.

Conversely, Paul writes about celibacy not as a way to escape or suppress God-given desire, but instead as a calling to devote the time and energy of married life to God. If someone’s self-control enables them to live single without their sexuality becoming a distraction, celibacy might be the best way for them to follow God. Both the person who marries and the one who chooses not to marry are doing the right thing, depending on their self-control and religious calling, and neither should be forced into one choice or the other. From a modern viewpoint, Paul recognizes that sexuality is a spectrum (I’m sure I’m not the first to posit that Paul sounds pretty asexual in his writings), and there are different ways to live righteously depending on the individual.

From this passage, I think if Paul were around today, he would advise that we can’t decide for LGBT people if celibacy is God’s calling for them because that takes away the individual choice. If celibacy is forced on a person, it becomes a burden instead of a gift. And if someone enters celibacy without the self-control needed for that life, they could end up more susceptible to sexual immorality. How can we say what God’s will is for someone’s life regarding sexuality, which is an extremely personal and unique aspect of our humanity? If even Paul didn’t presume to make that choice for people, we must let each individual discern for themselves whether celibacy, marriage, or singleness it the holy path for them, whether they are gay or straight.

Identity

The last part of this line of thinking I want to deconstruct is this idea that “Gay people should find their identity in Christ, not in their sexuality.” To a certain extent, I understand that teaching as it applies to all sexuality, not just LGBT people. Jesus had some hard words about prioritizing relationship with God over human relationships. The disciples left their identities as fishermen and sons to follow him, and he sends his own brother and mothers away to prioritize his ministry. However, the idea that we must necessarily sacrifice and eliminate all other identities to follow Christ is a false equivalency (and one that no straight person practices).

Like our sexuality, identities are also given by God and not inherently wrong. I can be a teacher and a Christian, a wife and a Christian, an American and a Christian, a woman and a Christian, a writer and a Christian. No one told me that I shouldn’t marry my husband because “my identity should be in Christ alone.” That would be absurd, because we all live with multiple identities. Instead of seeing them organized in a hierarchy, I see my Christian identity as flowing through the others like a river. My faith informs how I approach the many roles God has given me: trying to be Christ-like in my relationships and perspectives. And nowhere does Christ say “you must be straight to be saved.” According to the Bible, being Christ-like means having your intentions transformed by a divine love for your neighbor, talking to God, and helping people, especially those on the margins of society. I can absolutely celebrate my bisexual identity this Pride month while also living out my identity in Christ, as can the many LGBT Christians around the world.

A Beautiful Kingdom

It’s inconsistent with Scripture’s teachings on the significance of intentions to say that acting gay is a sin but same-sex attraction is not. If we acknowledge the latter is not a sin, we cannot categorically say all romantic interactions with a same-sex partner are somehow sins. Instead, if we apply what Paul says about desire, the question becomes not is our divinely-created sexuality good or evil, but are we living it through relationships that reflect the fruits of the Spirit? Instead of demanding “straight or gay” to determine a relationship’s holiness, I think it’s much more Biblical to ask is the relationship built on “selfish ambition or loving kindness?”

Secondly, while celibacy might be some queer people’s calling, just as it is some straight people’s calling, we cannot impose it on all LGBT people as the only option to live out God’s will. Celibacy, singleness, and marriage, are individual decisions, each with different gifts and possible holy outcomes. But as I said, if not even Paul could claim to make those choices for the early church, we cannot decide God’s will for people. When we do so, we impose our own human prejudices and limit how the Spirit is moving. We can encourage each other, as Paul did, to understand our own desires and to practice living them out in a way that produces love, joy, and peace.

Finally, enough of this “Christ should be your only identity” nonsense. He never said that, the early church didn’t live that, and it’s just not Biblical. Loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind doesn’t mean we exist in a vacuum where all other parts of us cease to exist. God made us with human bodies and calls us to different roles in our mortal lifespan. Even priests have an identity as a leader of their church, which comes with its own set of earthly responsibilities. Instead of pushing out all of the other parts of you (that God created), our identity in Christ is a foundation upon which we build the others, a lens through which we view the world, and the wind that moves through our life. Imagine if we approached every identity and role as a gift from God and did our best to live out the serving, healing, radical love of Christ in each one. I know many gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people living that way, and I’m filled with such joy and gratitude that God’s kingdom is as diversely beautiful as the imagination of the Divine.

So go forth and be single, married, dating, celibate, gay, straight, male, female, non-binary, friends, parents, partners, siblings, writers, athletes, leaders, artists, healers, helpers, scholars, activists, and the endless list of other callings and careers and interests and identities – and let the transforming love of Christ be in all of them.

You are not alone.

 

 

“For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.” – Psalm 139:13-14 (NIV)

Every chapter of the Bible has layers, which is one of the reasons I love studying Scripture – and Psalm 139 is no exception. The general idea is about God being with us always (although it takes a weird smite-my-enemies twist at the end). One of the more famous of the 150 poems, Psalm 139 is also frequently referenced by the Pro-Life movement to support the idea that life begins at conception: specifically, that God designs life, and that what God creates is good. However, I’ve noticed that those verses are not necessarily applied with as much conviction if the child grows up to be outside of what’s socially considered “normal” – for example, if they realize they’re gay or trans. So to kick off Pride month, I want to reflect on how those words are Good News for us queer Christians – and can also be very uplifting even if you don’t ascribe to that label.

This Scripture implies that we are each a masterpiece of heaven, a miracle in the details of our creation. The Psalmist is in awe that every part of us was divinely formed with purpose and precision. He uses the word wonderful twice to describe how God created him. Reflecting on his own created self, he sees evidence of something truly good, and he is filled with gratitude for how he was made. So if God has indeed made every part of us, then isn’t even our sexuality part of the Divine Design, deserving of appreciation? Shouldn’t we be wonder-filled at our unique beauty and give praise for it?

Many of us have internalized from prejudiced communities that the queer parts of us are inherently corrupt. Either you work it out through therapy and learn to accept yourself (no easy task when years of conditioning condemns you), or you go to war with that part of yourself and a burden that will separate you from God unless you suffer to bear that cross and suppress it. Looking at those verses from Psalms, I wonder if God’s heart breaks over this. God made something good – better than good, wonderful at the molecular level – and instead of delighting in the diversity of who we were made to be, we have the audacity tell God that the creation is flawed and immoral simply because it does not fit into our limited worldview.

I’ve also heard these verses in Psalm 139 used to condemn transgender people. “God made you one way in the womb, it goes against the Divine Plan to change yourself” the argument goes. Yet other verses in that same Psalm reflect that the omniscient God knows the details of our lives before we have lived them, even the parts that have not been formed yet.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.” – Psalm 139:16

Who are we to say that the Creator didn’t intentionally imagine an as yet “unformed body,” and that an individual’s transitioning wasn’t always part of the God’s plan? Instead of judging (which the Bible makes very, very clear is not our job), what if we celebrated that our transgender or non-binary family are fearfully and wonderfully made, with bodies and lives lovingly crafted by the Divine? We must listen to and value trans perspectives in our faith community, which show us that our created selves are ever evolving, and that too is wonderful.

This Pride, I want to give thanks for every part of me, especially my queerness, because it gives me a valuable voice in the Body of Christ, and also simply because God made me this way, so it is wonderful. I want to celebrate the specific ways that others have been made, for they are wonderful. I want to cultivate the belief that God loves exactly who I am and delights in every day of my life, for God is wonderful. What if we affirmed ourselves and each other like this in and out of the Church? Imagine the joy, love, and peace that could flourish as God’s community gave praise for the diversity of ways they were made!

And if you’re not Christian, I think the sentiment of the Psalm is still beautiful: that every part of us has value. I hope you find a way to feel gratitude for your wonderful self and appreciate all aspects of the way you are made. You make the world better by being true to who you are.

I pray you all shine with Pride. You are not alone.

CW: Homophobia

 

This weekend my former neighbor said that I was an abomination.

He didn’t say it to me directly. He said it about LGBT people in general, insisting there is no place for such in Christianity on earth or in heaven. This person was not someone I speak to regularly anymore, so the words didn’t cut very deeply. However, it’s still chilling to hear someone you grew up with saying that they don’t think you should exist.

I’ve had other people closer to me call me and those I love say similar things to me and avoid taking responsibility for it by claiming that it’s God’s words, not theirs. Unwilling to believe the Jesus who communed with the people in the margins would reject us now, I started studying Scripture’s moral logic of sexuality, gender, and salvation. For me, the stakes are high. Unlike a lot of theological disagreements, interpreting how the Bible applies to modern-day queer people and relationships can result in serious mental/spiritual harm if not studied carefully. Part of why I started writing this blog was to push back against theology that selectively insists on the letter of the law without taking into account that Christ’s message was about radical, inclusive love. Fired up by what I learned, I set out to convince people with anti-LBGT beliefs that queer people can absolutely faithfully follow Christ. I drew up my battle plans of Biblical analysis. I started crafting epistles that I let fly like arrows, hoping to pierce people’s hearts with conviction. I grounded myself in front of the lines of people who had been injured by anti-LGBT beliefs, and I prepared to fight for them.

But instead of confrontation, there was silence. I had psyched myself up for these spiritual arguments only to realize that no one wanted to engage with me. My blog posts calling for a more responsible study of Scripture were met with unresponsiveness from the Christians I was trying to convince. Rather than changing minds and hearts, I realized I was speaking to an empty (or maybe just inattentive) room. I felt deeply disappointed. How could I make positive change if the other side won’t even talk to me about it? I knew people like my old neighbor wouldn’t want to talk about the finer points of Biblical interpretation, but I was hoping for more moderate Christians, especially those close to me who have a deeper knowledge of the Bible, would want to talk more about this. Then maybe THEY could go out and disarm the most harmful beliefs of anti-LGBT Christians like my neighbor.

But there was no battle, just me writing into the void.

---

After Rachel Held Evans, a true ally for queer people, died tragically earlier this month, I was reading tweets about everyone’s favorite quote of hers, and I found one that convicted me deeply.

I considered what would happen if I shifted my audience for this blog. Instead of trying to convince other Christians that Jesus wants us at God’s table, what if I just focused on serving and inviting people – like Jesus himself did. To keep the battle metaphor going, it was like I turned around from facing the opposition (who had withdrawn anyway) to focus on the people I was trying to protect. How can I better serve other queer people? How can I bind wounds and help equip others for when the spiritual battles do come? How can I build up this faith community?

I need to divert my energy and attention from the minds that aren’t ready to move yet to the souls who need encouragement and hope. There is so much good I can still do if I focus on strengthening myself and my own people instead of despairing over the hearts that may never change. I can share my Biblical analysis so that other queer Christians feel empowered when people try to use Scripture against them as a weapon to wound. I can affirm that LGBT+ people have a place in my faith through my writing and interactions. I can contribute to the #faithfullyLGBT community through buying books, sharing resources, and donating to groups helping LGBT+ youth. I can live out, being true to ALL of who God calls me to be.  That’s not to say I’m not willing to debate the theological validity of queer people in Christianity (seriously, I will always answer those emails or meet you for coffee to talk about that!). But I can’t make people listen to me, so I’m going to stop thinking of them as my audience, and instead focus on the people right beside me I can help.

Then instead of being alone on the battlefield, we can take steps forward together, gaining ground by linking arms and strengthening one another. And they will know we are Christians by our love.

I am not alone.