Being Gay or Being Christian: The Unnecessary Choice
This post has been a long time coming and will drop some bombs and some mics along the way. Try to follow me on it.
I’ve been reading my Bible recently (for the first time in years), and I came across a passage that discussed steadfastness.
Steadfast. What does it mean to be steadfast? According to the Bible, it means the strengthening of your faith through tests and temptations. Remaining steadfast in your faith is a very difficult thing to do.
So, this got me thinking...what tests my faith? What has made me want to walk away from God the most? An obvious struggle came to mind: I knew I was attracted to girls when I was 6 years old. I didn’t realize my church viewed those feelings as sinful until I was 12 or so. When I first asked myself what tests my faith, my answer was immediately the dichotomy I’ve experienced over my sexuality and my faith. It’s taken me 20 years to feel comfortable loving God and loving a person of the same sex at the same time.
But, after meditating on this further, I realized that those times when I was struggling the most with my sexuality were actually what brought me the closest to God. I was constantly considering Him in the biggest area of any teenagers’ life - that infamous and tumultuous love life. Even when I was dating a girl, He was still at the center of it because I was constantly wondering if He approved of my choices. I left behind a wake of broken friendships and relationships as I ping-ponged between being born a gay and being born again. I even stood in front of an entire church (twice) and told my story about how I used to be gay but was no longer, or was at least trying not to be.
A friend of mine who is also a lesbian, let’s call her Jane, told me a story recently about when she came out to a fellow Christian. Her Christian friend’s response was that she must overcome her homosexual attractions - that it was simply a cross God had given her to bear. “We all have crosses to bear”, she claimed. My friend processed this information and considered it. Jane asked, “So...what’s your cross to bear?” The girl responded, “Well, I really struggle with my self-confidence. I have to tell myself daily that I’m likable. It’s a struggle, you know, loving yourself.” Jane - who had just opened up about deeply loving a person who happened to also be a female - was pissed.
“You’re saying that my cross to bear is not being with the person I love, while yours is trying to feel more confident in a swimsuit?”
This isn’t to downplay how difficult it is for us to love ourselves (in fact, that’s a very unifying piece to this puzzle). It’s just one story of a painful and absurd response that homosexuals receive when trying to tell their fellow Christian friends about their feelings and uncertainties.
That said, the time to be homosexual in our society has never been better. When I started having feelings for the same-sex, I thought I was the only person on the planet that felt that way. Nobody talked about gay people, there were no publicly out gays (that I knew of, at least). I felt like I was on the Island of Shame: population one, thankyouverymuch. But now, homosexuality is a commonly discussed topic. While this has made my life easier as a homosexual, it has made it much harder as a Christian.
You see, I’m realizing now that what’s tested my faith the most isn’t my sexuality - it’s the church’s response to my sexuality. It’s one thing to personally and quietly wrestle with God over my relationships. It’s a totally different animal to be told with certainty by your Christian friends that you’re going to hell for who you are.
You could sit here and argue that the Church is doing its job if it’s making me question my sexuality. But I’ve read something that has shown me this is the opposite of what God wants the church to do.
Over my short time on Earth, I have devoured many books on homosexuality and Christianity. I have searched relentlessly for that magical interpretation that I could be gay and Christian at the same time. The hateful Christian response to homosexuality almost drowned out the quiet yet firm voice of my loving God. Lo and behold, the book that carries the answer to my question is the one I had been avoiding: The Bible.
Now, disclaimer: I’ve never been to seminary school. I don’t know Greek or Hebrew. I’m broken and being molded daily. But I may also be someone with a great perspective on this issue once you take into account the seemingly endless hours of fighting/indifference/crying/wrestling God and I have had over sexuality. A person who has never struggled with being gay is probably not the best person to give an opinion on what it means to be a gay Christian. So I’m going to offer you what may feel like a groundbreaking way to look at the Gospel. Then again, the Gospel has always been groundbreaking, hasn’t it?
In Galatians, Paul addresses this issue of Jewish followers locking Gentiles out from Jesus because the Gentiles aren’t adhering to Jewish laws and traditions. The specific issue at hand is circumcision. Peter himself (the man who Jesus asked three times if he loved Him, or really just if he understood what it meant to love Jesus) is spearheading this divide. Paul breaks onto the scene and calls Peter out on missing the point of the Gospel: if we could be saved by our works and our traditions then what was the point of Jesus dying? He takes it even further and says that circumcision was once a way for Jews to be set apart from other nations, but that now we are set apart by the circumcision of our hearts.
Then, in 1 Corinthians, Paul again has to deal with this annoying problem of people being unable to let go of old traditions. People in Corinth were struggling over if they could eat shellfish or not. Some thought it didn’t matter, others thought it was critical to their identity. Paul’s approach to the matter is simple: Some people have weaker faith than others. They don’t understand that the laws no longer bind us to our salvation. But those of us that understand the freedom we find in Christ must “Be careful...that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak.”
This part is important: we must be relentless in our attitude so that whatever we believe does not become a stumbling block for others. With this in mind, I’m Jesus-flipping-over-tables-in-the-temple angry at the Church. I know many homosexuals that loved Jesus, but have been forced to feel like outcasts from their own relationship with Him. And it’s over something that could be equated to laws about shellfish and circumcision.
We don’t have to agree if marriage can be beyond being between a man and a woman, just like we don’t have to agree if shellfish can be eaten or not. But, we do have to respect each others different approaches to the issue so we do not cause the other person to question their entire relationship with God. We have to allow others to have access to Jesus no matter what.
I’m going to drive this home now with two questions.
Why did Old Testament laws exist in the first place? To make the Jewish people look set apart from other nations. God wanted them to look as though they belonged to Him. In the Old Testament, people could tell a Jew from a Gentile because they didn’t eat shellfish, or wear mixed fibers, or get tattoos. There were over 600 ways that Jews could look different than other races.
What was the point of Jesus dying? To fulfill those laws, not abolish them. After Jesus returned, he said the most important law now is to love others as we love ourselves. So, with this logic, the way to seem as though you belong to God now is only seen in how you love yourself and how you love other people.
That’s a beautiful concept. So why are Christians so ugly most of the time?
Here’s the catch, and Jane’s friend could learn from this: the main problem is that we don’t have a solitary clue as to how to love ourselves. How can we love others if we can’t even love ourselves? It’s a lot easier to hate others than it is to love ourselves. We have got to work on this one command that actually matters. Too many people are being kept from the Gospel by those that think you have to be a certain way to have access to Jesus. Do we never learn?
Bottom line: I believe God still speaks with us and through us. I believe the Bible didn’t just happen once, it happens repeatedly. I believe that my sexuality doesn’t separate me or any other non-heterosexuals from God. I believe the church establishment looks more like the pharisees of biblical times than it looks like disciples of Jesus. And that’s not okay.
The truth is - and we have to reclaim this truth - that the church as an establishment is not always reflecting Jesus. Jesus loves us in radical ways that defy our logic and understanding. His love is radical and transformative because He gives it fully and freely knowing full-well we may never awaken to receive that love or take the step of loving Him back. No human being should cause you to feel denied of that love - no matter who you are or what you’ve done.
Aren’t those of us that claim Jesus supposed to love just as radically as He loves us? What if the reason churches are empty isn’t because our culture is falling apart? What if it’s because the church is hating instead of loving, and we know in our souls that’s wrong?
I will never claim to speak for God, but I do speak for my own relationship with Him. That relationship tells me God loves gays.
And, yeah, I’m feeling pretty steadfastly about that.