Through prayer and study over the course of many months I came to believe that: a) church should celebrate and support same-sex covenant partnerships no less than we do mixed-sex ones, and b) church should welcome gifted and called people into all areas of ministry at all levels, without barriers of gender or sexuality. [1]
There are people (I was one of them, once) who would see such a position as popularity-seeking. Ha. My circle of acquaintance mostly divides into:
I’ve written piecemeal about my own belief-examination, and it feels about time I shared some more pieces. So here I’d like to tell you about some of the stuff I’ve read. Not that reading has been the only component: friendship, conversation, and opportunities to connect in fellowship with and be ministered to by LGBT+ Christians have also played a gratefully-received part. But I do like to read, and the circumstances and choices of my life have allowed me more time and opportunity to do so than most – it makes sense to try to share the benefit of that if I can.
This is (obviously) nowhere near being a comprehensive list of all that there is to be read on the subject. It is a selected list [*] of things I have read, and what I thought of them. Nor is it perfectly ‘balanced’: after 3 decades on the attentive receiving end of 'traditional/conservative' teaching, I was already quite familiar with that particular perspective at the start of my exploration. With those caveats in mind, and in the order that makes it easiest for me to follow my own train of thought, here goes…
‘Changing Our Mind’ by David P. Gushee
An evangelical [3] Christian ethicist explains his changed beliefs towards full inclusion of LGBT+ Christians in the “blessings and demands of covenant” and in the family of the church.
Of all the books I’ve read, this is probably the one that most corresponds with where I’m at personally. Gushee stands by the Bible’s rejection of promiscuous, power-oriented and self-serving sexual activity, whilst maintaining that such descriptions simply do not apply to same-sex covenant partnerships, which are fully compatible with Christian discipleship and the corporate life of the church.
He frames his reasoning in the context of a looong history of (often violent) Christian disagreement: slavery, colonialism, arpartheid and segregation, response to Nazism, inter-demoninational persecution, capitalism versus socialism, war, modern Israel, women’s rights... On some of these issues, majority opinion has shifted so profoundly that the fact they were ever up for debate now seems completely unthinkable. And yet, committed Christians have held positions on all sides of all these divides, always citing scriptural support. Believers in the inspiration and authority of the Bible have to face up to the reality that there is no “plain reading” of it. There are “better and worse” or “more or less defensible” ways of selecting, interpreting and applying scripture – and we are answerable for the choices that we make.
Gushee suggests that how we "join up the dots" largely depends on which narrative we tell ourselves. When we consider the increase of LGBT+ rights and visibility do we 'see' cultural, ecclesial and moral decline or do we 'see' marginalisation and resistance leading to equality? For Gushee, his existing love- and inclusion-centered biblical paradigm, combined with transformative encounters with real human beings, convinced him that a different way of joining up the dots (as outlined in the book) was plausible, and that he would rather “wrestle with these questions in the community of the bullied [...] than the community of the bullies”.
‘The Plausibility Problem’, by Ed Shaw
A celibate same-sex attracted pastor urges churches to take a stand for the traditional male/female model for marriage whilst at the same time honouring singleness and supporting single people of all sexual orientations.
This book paints a picture of a church that, in many ways, I would love to belong to – one where our distorted fixation on marriage and family is dethroned, singleness is honoured, and single people are supported in a committed community of fellowship and mutual discipleship. And I wholeheartedly agree that Jesus is worth giving up anything for, that a Christian’s fundamental identity is in Christ, that God gives us the resources to deal with whatever God asks of us, and that the church needs to resist secular ‘selfism’.
But … the plausibility of celibacy as a fulfilling life situation for a gay Christian does not in itself imply that it is the necessary or best situation for all gay Christians. And Shaw’s arguments for the latter were, for me, merely a reprise of the conservative dot-joining that I grew up with and that I believe there are good reasons to question.
And while I deeply respect his personal commitment to his interpretation of scripture (even if I believe there are other plausible interpretations) I was disappointed by what seemed to me some gross distortions of observed reality. He writes as though same-sex promiscuity and same-sex covenant relationship are effectively the same thing. But marriage is (or should be) as much a framework for self-surrender as celibacy is! To suggest that a church which offers marriage in response to same-sex attraction is being overly 'permissive' is surely to drastically misrepresent marriage.
Meanwhile, he is upsettingly dismissive of the very real, church-catalysed suffering of very many LGBT+ Christians – the religious anxiety, the inculturated self-hate, the alienation, the high rates of suicide attempts and homelessness, the chronic mental and physical illness… I’m so, so glad for Shaw if he has not personally been subject to such harm and heartache. But his hypothetical case study characters (“Peter” and “Jane”) are far from representative of the LGBT+ Christians I have known or whose testimonies I have read. Moreover, I simply DO NOT AGREE with his exhortation to ignore emotional data. God gave us emotions; they are part of the ‘general revelation’ of truth and I confidently trust that there is an underlying harmony between the world as we experience it and the ‘special revelation’ of scripture. Cognitive dissonance (I suggest) is less a sign of strong faith than it is a warning sign of poor understanding. Besides, conservatives are hardly innocent of appealing to emotion: it is precisely the appeal to fear that keeps many Christians accepting what they’ve been told about sexuality (and other matters) without asking any difficult questions. (Mini rant over).
‘Same-sex relationships and the nature of marriage: A theological colloquy’, various authors, commissioned by the House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church, 2011
A pair of essays arguing for and against the expansion of marriage to include same sex couples.
I happened to read the ‘pro-expansionist’ half of this during a not-so-happy patch in my own (‘traditional’) marriage and OH MY GOODNESS it is so beautiful and inspiring and enriching in its depiction of marriage as a ‘school for virtue’ and a means of grace that honestly I/we have not been quite the same since. In the best of ways.
I then read the ‘view from the traditionalists’ and it was very … technical. As I recall. (And a little bit slippery slope-y). And then I read the responses from each side and the traditionalists were not overly impressed that the pro-expansionists had employed so much ‘emotional rhetoric’ and, well, I could see where they were coming from but still, just because a piece of writing stirs you to fall in love with your spouse all over again and inspires you to become a better follower of Jesus it doesn’t mean it isn’t true… [4]
‘Undivided’, by Vicky Beeching
An international Christian singer-songwriter shares her (not-easy) experience of coming out as gay after years in the evangelical spotlight.
This is a courageous and heartbreaking memoir. It was chronic illness – caused by years of self-suppression in the heavily-opinionated limelight of the Christian contemporary music scene – that prompted Beeching to re-assess her received beliefs about sexuality and, eventually, come out publicly as gay. The backlash from some of her fans was … distinctly un-Christlike. But her story had a huge impact on many – including me, as it marked the point when I committed to praying and seeking truth about what the church’s welcome and support of LGBT+ Christians should look like.
She spends a small part of the book unpacking the reasoned support for her changed beliefs. Compared with other books I’ve read, I didn’t necessarily find these bits decisively convincing. But so what?! It’s absolutely not her responsibility to account for her own self-acceptance, to me or to anyone. I just thank God that she has shared her story, and hope and pray that she continues to grow in her knowledge of God's love, and that she sees repentance in the church for the harm done to her and so many others.
‘The Mark of a Man’, by Elisabeth Eliot
A well-known evangelical Christian missionary exhorts her nephew to embrace the challenges and duties of Christ-like masculinity.
I feel in two minds about including this book, as it risks becoming a bit of a straw man argument. However, it was recommended to me as a counter-perspective in the context of my wider journey of reflection – which is to say, the ideas in it are alive and strong among people I care about, which makes it (sadly) relevant.
It’s primarily about gender roles, but it touches on sexuality. Quite forcefully, in fact – with suggestions that gay marriage and/or ordination will lead to the acceptance of polygamy, bestiality, incest and paedophilia. “If the original distinction is lost – the vital one between men and women – we end up recognizing no distinctions in sexual conduct. It is the logical conclusion.”
Well, suffice to say, I disagree. It is absolutely possible to re-evaluate the prescriptive distinctions imposed on men and women whilst holding firmly to (e.g.) a clear and significant distinction between sex inside and outside a covenant relationship. For me, this book was a reminder of how shallow and unscrutinised some ‘accepted wisdom’ on gender and sexuality really is. There are conversations yet to be had, for sure, but we should have moved beyond slippery slope arguments, cheap caricatures, and lazy assertion by now.
‘Rescuing Jesus’, by Deborah Jian Lee
A journalist and one-time-evangelical investigates feminist, racial justice, and LGBT+ affirming movements within American evangelical Christianity.
The third part of this book spotlights Christians who are challenging traditional teachings on sexuality and working to create opportunities (such as the GCN (now QCF) Conference) for LGBT+ Christians and their allies to find support and encouragement. I read it quite early on in my quest, and – especially the accounts of underground gay-affirming movements at Christian universities – it felt like hearing a familiar story for the first time from ‘the other side’. (As per Gushee’s insights on competing narratives). What if the ‘gay agenda to infiltrate and undermine Christian spaces’ is actually an ardent, self-sacrificing bid for recognition and acceptance within faith communities that have excluded and denied the existence of devout LGBT+ believers? Gulp. What if it’s that, church?
It also contains one of the most moving personal testimonies I've ever read, about Danny Cortez, a Southern Baptist minister who, through years of study and friendship, came to privately change his beliefs about same-sex relationships – just in time to receive his teenage son’s own coming out with unreserved affirmation.
‘The Lindchester Chronicles’, by Catherine Fox
A trilogy set in a fictional Anglican diocese, charting the lives and loves and ministries of clerical and lay, high, low and profane, with an eye on the particular challenges faced by the church today.
Lindchester has become something of a ‘happy place’ for me, not because only good and nice things happen there but because Fox so firmly embeds the assumption of image-bearing equality and the aspiration of neighbour love for all that I desperately believe for humanity but don’t always see or live up to.
By exploring the various ‘issues’ around sexuality using the tools of fiction, Fox reminds us that it is not ideas that are at stake but people – represented by characters who may not be ‘real’, but ring true, and evoke empathy. (To the awkward point where I’ve caught myself almost praying for them…) But just because the books are readable and relatable, it does not follow that the reasoning communicated is flimsy. The case for an expanded understanding of marriage is theologically and pastorally well-considered, while conservative views are also represented sympathetically and with appropriate complexity.
‘Journeys in Grace and Truth’, by various authors
A collection of personal essays by biblically evangelical Christians who have come to support same-sex relationships.
I read this book when I was already ‘there’, so to speak, and was glad of the further reassurance that I wasn’t alone. I don’t know that it would have persuaded me, as such, if I’d read it sooner – but it is always good and important to hear people’s stories. I was especially moved and humbled by the servant-hearted commitment to the church shown by those contributors who had themselves been directly hurt by our treatment of LGBT+ people. (Hayley Matthew’s account of powerfully encountering the affirming love of God during prayers for her ‘deliverance’ is both aargh and whoa).
For those still in need of ‘convincing’ the most compelling theological arguments for me were in the chapter by Rev. Jody Stowell. She suggests that our usual evangelical assumptions reproduce interpretations of texts like Genesis 1-3 that are not ‘necessary’; we need to recognise the freedom we have to explore the biblical story beyond those assumptions. And while humanity began in the Garden of Eden, we are not going back to the Garden – we are going on to the City. “In the unknowing journey towards the New Jerusalem there is a possibility that the conversation that is now being conducted on gender and sexuality [...] is going to show us something of the new humanity towards which we are headed.” I also particularly appreciated, and identified with, her honesty about the costs to speaking out, and the corresponding temptation to have her own private thoughts and wait for someone else to speak. Until “I finally knew that I would rather risk being wrong with a soft heart, than to grieve Jesus with my hard heart.” Amen to that.
The Bible
A collection of up to 79 books of various genres in Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek, understood in various combinations by Jewish and Christian believers of different denominations (and others) to be an inspired revelation of God.
Honestly, I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I went a day without reading at least something from the Protestant Christian canon of scripture. And, y’know what, it has a LOT more to say about human sexuality than those 6 or so ‘clobber passages’ that come out in every debate about same-sex relationships. A chapter I keep coming back to is 1 Corinthians 7, which rather pragmatically (and, note, without explicit reference to procreation) concedes that “it is better to marry than to be aflame with passion”. Paul was not out to change societal institutions but to help people live holy lives within them. In a society that recognises same-sex marriage I see no decisive reason why Paul’s concession should not apply to same-sex partners. “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it.” (Proverbs 3:27) What if it is within the power of the church to extend marriage to same-sex partners whose lives and discipleship would be enriched by it? To extend full inclusion in fellowship and ministry to LGBT+ people, whose participation would enrich our corporate lives?
This Sojourners article is good for further examples. But the list doesn’t stop there. I’m reminded of my teenage enthusiasm for underlining every verse in the Bible that seemed especially important; I stopped when I realised I was headed for a situation where so much of it was underlined that, in effect, I would be right back where I’d started. Similarly, when it comes to questions of personhood, relationship, image-bearing, community, it’s harder to find passages that don’t seem somehow relevant, than ones that do. In short, #WouldRecommend.
[1] Please understand that I am interested here in the quite specific question of how church can best serve and be served by our LGBT+ members – that is, people who choose to be a part of a community where we actually *want* to make the conduct and choices of our lives 'each others’ business' in some intentional and mutually-formative way. I am absolutely NOT interested in forcing anyone into such a community, nor in forcing the priorities of that community onto individuals or society outside it!
[2] It's not an excuse, but it is relevant, that my ongoing struggle with mental illness has often found quite severe and terrifying expression in religious anxiety…
[3] That is, he self-identified as evangelical at the time of writing the book. Since its publication, and largely as a result of the hostility he encountered for it, he has come to question whether the label (as currently understood) is one that he still wants to go by.
[4] If you’re not quite sure how facetious I’m being, well, neither am I.
[*] This is a special footnote for other directly or tangentially relevant written things that spring to mind. I'll add to it as and when I remember stuff: Rosemary Radford Reuther's 'Christianity and the Making of the Modern Family', Miroslav Volf's 'Exclusion and Embrace' (tangentially), Ann Memmott's blog, Jem Bloomfield's blog, Bryce Rich's blog, James Alison's blog.
[Thumbnail image cc. from Katey on Flickr.]
There are people (I was one of them, once) who would see such a position as popularity-seeking. Ha. My circle of acquaintance mostly divides into:
- those who are understandably shocked I could ever have believed otherwise, and disturbed that it took me so long to change my mind [2], and
- those who are appalled at my "rejection of truth” and have no further interest in anything I might say about anything.
I’ve written piecemeal about my own belief-examination, and it feels about time I shared some more pieces. So here I’d like to tell you about some of the stuff I’ve read. Not that reading has been the only component: friendship, conversation, and opportunities to connect in fellowship with and be ministered to by LGBT+ Christians have also played a gratefully-received part. But I do like to read, and the circumstances and choices of my life have allowed me more time and opportunity to do so than most – it makes sense to try to share the benefit of that if I can.
This is (obviously) nowhere near being a comprehensive list of all that there is to be read on the subject. It is a selected list [*] of things I have read, and what I thought of them. Nor is it perfectly ‘balanced’: after 3 decades on the attentive receiving end of 'traditional/conservative' teaching, I was already quite familiar with that particular perspective at the start of my exploration. With those caveats in mind, and in the order that makes it easiest for me to follow my own train of thought, here goes…
‘Changing Our Mind’ by David P. Gushee
An evangelical [3] Christian ethicist explains his changed beliefs towards full inclusion of LGBT+ Christians in the “blessings and demands of covenant” and in the family of the church.
Of all the books I’ve read, this is probably the one that most corresponds with where I’m at personally. Gushee stands by the Bible’s rejection of promiscuous, power-oriented and self-serving sexual activity, whilst maintaining that such descriptions simply do not apply to same-sex covenant partnerships, which are fully compatible with Christian discipleship and the corporate life of the church.
He frames his reasoning in the context of a looong history of (often violent) Christian disagreement: slavery, colonialism, arpartheid and segregation, response to Nazism, inter-demoninational persecution, capitalism versus socialism, war, modern Israel, women’s rights... On some of these issues, majority opinion has shifted so profoundly that the fact they were ever up for debate now seems completely unthinkable. And yet, committed Christians have held positions on all sides of all these divides, always citing scriptural support. Believers in the inspiration and authority of the Bible have to face up to the reality that there is no “plain reading” of it. There are “better and worse” or “more or less defensible” ways of selecting, interpreting and applying scripture – and we are answerable for the choices that we make.
Gushee suggests that how we "join up the dots" largely depends on which narrative we tell ourselves. When we consider the increase of LGBT+ rights and visibility do we 'see' cultural, ecclesial and moral decline or do we 'see' marginalisation and resistance leading to equality? For Gushee, his existing love- and inclusion-centered biblical paradigm, combined with transformative encounters with real human beings, convinced him that a different way of joining up the dots (as outlined in the book) was plausible, and that he would rather “wrestle with these questions in the community of the bullied [...] than the community of the bullies”.
‘The Plausibility Problem’, by Ed Shaw
A celibate same-sex attracted pastor urges churches to take a stand for the traditional male/female model for marriage whilst at the same time honouring singleness and supporting single people of all sexual orientations.
This book paints a picture of a church that, in many ways, I would love to belong to – one where our distorted fixation on marriage and family is dethroned, singleness is honoured, and single people are supported in a committed community of fellowship and mutual discipleship. And I wholeheartedly agree that Jesus is worth giving up anything for, that a Christian’s fundamental identity is in Christ, that God gives us the resources to deal with whatever God asks of us, and that the church needs to resist secular ‘selfism’.
But … the plausibility of celibacy as a fulfilling life situation for a gay Christian does not in itself imply that it is the necessary or best situation for all gay Christians. And Shaw’s arguments for the latter were, for me, merely a reprise of the conservative dot-joining that I grew up with and that I believe there are good reasons to question.
And while I deeply respect his personal commitment to his interpretation of scripture (even if I believe there are other plausible interpretations) I was disappointed by what seemed to me some gross distortions of observed reality. He writes as though same-sex promiscuity and same-sex covenant relationship are effectively the same thing. But marriage is (or should be) as much a framework for self-surrender as celibacy is! To suggest that a church which offers marriage in response to same-sex attraction is being overly 'permissive' is surely to drastically misrepresent marriage.
Meanwhile, he is upsettingly dismissive of the very real, church-catalysed suffering of very many LGBT+ Christians – the religious anxiety, the inculturated self-hate, the alienation, the high rates of suicide attempts and homelessness, the chronic mental and physical illness… I’m so, so glad for Shaw if he has not personally been subject to such harm and heartache. But his hypothetical case study characters (“Peter” and “Jane”) are far from representative of the LGBT+ Christians I have known or whose testimonies I have read. Moreover, I simply DO NOT AGREE with his exhortation to ignore emotional data. God gave us emotions; they are part of the ‘general revelation’ of truth and I confidently trust that there is an underlying harmony between the world as we experience it and the ‘special revelation’ of scripture. Cognitive dissonance (I suggest) is less a sign of strong faith than it is a warning sign of poor understanding. Besides, conservatives are hardly innocent of appealing to emotion: it is precisely the appeal to fear that keeps many Christians accepting what they’ve been told about sexuality (and other matters) without asking any difficult questions. (Mini rant over).
‘Same-sex relationships and the nature of marriage: A theological colloquy’, various authors, commissioned by the House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church, 2011
A pair of essays arguing for and against the expansion of marriage to include same sex couples.
I happened to read the ‘pro-expansionist’ half of this during a not-so-happy patch in my own (‘traditional’) marriage and OH MY GOODNESS it is so beautiful and inspiring and enriching in its depiction of marriage as a ‘school for virtue’ and a means of grace that honestly I/we have not been quite the same since. In the best of ways.
I then read the ‘view from the traditionalists’ and it was very … technical. As I recall. (And a little bit slippery slope-y). And then I read the responses from each side and the traditionalists were not overly impressed that the pro-expansionists had employed so much ‘emotional rhetoric’ and, well, I could see where they were coming from but still, just because a piece of writing stirs you to fall in love with your spouse all over again and inspires you to become a better follower of Jesus it doesn’t mean it isn’t true… [4]
‘Undivided’, by Vicky Beeching
An international Christian singer-songwriter shares her (not-easy) experience of coming out as gay after years in the evangelical spotlight.
This is a courageous and heartbreaking memoir. It was chronic illness – caused by years of self-suppression in the heavily-opinionated limelight of the Christian contemporary music scene – that prompted Beeching to re-assess her received beliefs about sexuality and, eventually, come out publicly as gay. The backlash from some of her fans was … distinctly un-Christlike. But her story had a huge impact on many – including me, as it marked the point when I committed to praying and seeking truth about what the church’s welcome and support of LGBT+ Christians should look like.
She spends a small part of the book unpacking the reasoned support for her changed beliefs. Compared with other books I’ve read, I didn’t necessarily find these bits decisively convincing. But so what?! It’s absolutely not her responsibility to account for her own self-acceptance, to me or to anyone. I just thank God that she has shared her story, and hope and pray that she continues to grow in her knowledge of God's love, and that she sees repentance in the church for the harm done to her and so many others.
‘The Mark of a Man’, by Elisabeth Eliot
A well-known evangelical Christian missionary exhorts her nephew to embrace the challenges and duties of Christ-like masculinity.
I feel in two minds about including this book, as it risks becoming a bit of a straw man argument. However, it was recommended to me as a counter-perspective in the context of my wider journey of reflection – which is to say, the ideas in it are alive and strong among people I care about, which makes it (sadly) relevant.
It’s primarily about gender roles, but it touches on sexuality. Quite forcefully, in fact – with suggestions that gay marriage and/or ordination will lead to the acceptance of polygamy, bestiality, incest and paedophilia. “If the original distinction is lost – the vital one between men and women – we end up recognizing no distinctions in sexual conduct. It is the logical conclusion.”
Well, suffice to say, I disagree. It is absolutely possible to re-evaluate the prescriptive distinctions imposed on men and women whilst holding firmly to (e.g.) a clear and significant distinction between sex inside and outside a covenant relationship. For me, this book was a reminder of how shallow and unscrutinised some ‘accepted wisdom’ on gender and sexuality really is. There are conversations yet to be had, for sure, but we should have moved beyond slippery slope arguments, cheap caricatures, and lazy assertion by now.
‘Rescuing Jesus’, by Deborah Jian Lee
A journalist and one-time-evangelical investigates feminist, racial justice, and LGBT+ affirming movements within American evangelical Christianity.
The third part of this book spotlights Christians who are challenging traditional teachings on sexuality and working to create opportunities (such as the GCN (now QCF) Conference) for LGBT+ Christians and their allies to find support and encouragement. I read it quite early on in my quest, and – especially the accounts of underground gay-affirming movements at Christian universities – it felt like hearing a familiar story for the first time from ‘the other side’. (As per Gushee’s insights on competing narratives). What if the ‘gay agenda to infiltrate and undermine Christian spaces’ is actually an ardent, self-sacrificing bid for recognition and acceptance within faith communities that have excluded and denied the existence of devout LGBT+ believers? Gulp. What if it’s that, church?
It also contains one of the most moving personal testimonies I've ever read, about Danny Cortez, a Southern Baptist minister who, through years of study and friendship, came to privately change his beliefs about same-sex relationships – just in time to receive his teenage son’s own coming out with unreserved affirmation.
‘The Lindchester Chronicles’, by Catherine Fox
A trilogy set in a fictional Anglican diocese, charting the lives and loves and ministries of clerical and lay, high, low and profane, with an eye on the particular challenges faced by the church today.
Lindchester has become something of a ‘happy place’ for me, not because only good and nice things happen there but because Fox so firmly embeds the assumption of image-bearing equality and the aspiration of neighbour love for all that I desperately believe for humanity but don’t always see or live up to.
By exploring the various ‘issues’ around sexuality using the tools of fiction, Fox reminds us that it is not ideas that are at stake but people – represented by characters who may not be ‘real’, but ring true, and evoke empathy. (To the awkward point where I’ve caught myself almost praying for them…) But just because the books are readable and relatable, it does not follow that the reasoning communicated is flimsy. The case for an expanded understanding of marriage is theologically and pastorally well-considered, while conservative views are also represented sympathetically and with appropriate complexity.
‘Journeys in Grace and Truth’, by various authors
A collection of personal essays by biblically evangelical Christians who have come to support same-sex relationships.
I read this book when I was already ‘there’, so to speak, and was glad of the further reassurance that I wasn’t alone. I don’t know that it would have persuaded me, as such, if I’d read it sooner – but it is always good and important to hear people’s stories. I was especially moved and humbled by the servant-hearted commitment to the church shown by those contributors who had themselves been directly hurt by our treatment of LGBT+ people. (Hayley Matthew’s account of powerfully encountering the affirming love of God during prayers for her ‘deliverance’ is both aargh and whoa).
For those still in need of ‘convincing’ the most compelling theological arguments for me were in the chapter by Rev. Jody Stowell. She suggests that our usual evangelical assumptions reproduce interpretations of texts like Genesis 1-3 that are not ‘necessary’; we need to recognise the freedom we have to explore the biblical story beyond those assumptions. And while humanity began in the Garden of Eden, we are not going back to the Garden – we are going on to the City. “In the unknowing journey towards the New Jerusalem there is a possibility that the conversation that is now being conducted on gender and sexuality [...] is going to show us something of the new humanity towards which we are headed.” I also particularly appreciated, and identified with, her honesty about the costs to speaking out, and the corresponding temptation to have her own private thoughts and wait for someone else to speak. Until “I finally knew that I would rather risk being wrong with a soft heart, than to grieve Jesus with my hard heart.” Amen to that.
The Bible
A collection of up to 79 books of various genres in Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek, understood in various combinations by Jewish and Christian believers of different denominations (and others) to be an inspired revelation of God.
Honestly, I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I went a day without reading at least something from the Protestant Christian canon of scripture. And, y’know what, it has a LOT more to say about human sexuality than those 6 or so ‘clobber passages’ that come out in every debate about same-sex relationships. A chapter I keep coming back to is 1 Corinthians 7, which rather pragmatically (and, note, without explicit reference to procreation) concedes that “it is better to marry than to be aflame with passion”. Paul was not out to change societal institutions but to help people live holy lives within them. In a society that recognises same-sex marriage I see no decisive reason why Paul’s concession should not apply to same-sex partners. “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it.” (Proverbs 3:27) What if it is within the power of the church to extend marriage to same-sex partners whose lives and discipleship would be enriched by it? To extend full inclusion in fellowship and ministry to LGBT+ people, whose participation would enrich our corporate lives?
This Sojourners article is good for further examples. But the list doesn’t stop there. I’m reminded of my teenage enthusiasm for underlining every verse in the Bible that seemed especially important; I stopped when I realised I was headed for a situation where so much of it was underlined that, in effect, I would be right back where I’d started. Similarly, when it comes to questions of personhood, relationship, image-bearing, community, it’s harder to find passages that don’t seem somehow relevant, than ones that do. In short, #WouldRecommend.
[1] Please understand that I am interested here in the quite specific question of how church can best serve and be served by our LGBT+ members – that is, people who choose to be a part of a community where we actually *want* to make the conduct and choices of our lives 'each others’ business' in some intentional and mutually-formative way. I am absolutely NOT interested in forcing anyone into such a community, nor in forcing the priorities of that community onto individuals or society outside it!
[2] It's not an excuse, but it is relevant, that my ongoing struggle with mental illness has often found quite severe and terrifying expression in religious anxiety…
[3] That is, he self-identified as evangelical at the time of writing the book. Since its publication, and largely as a result of the hostility he encountered for it, he has come to question whether the label (as currently understood) is one that he still wants to go by.
[4] If you’re not quite sure how facetious I’m being, well, neither am I.
[*] This is a special footnote for other directly or tangentially relevant written things that spring to mind. I'll add to it as and when I remember stuff: Rosemary Radford Reuther's 'Christianity and the Making of the Modern Family', Miroslav Volf's 'Exclusion and Embrace' (tangentially), Ann Memmott's blog, Jem Bloomfield's blog, Bryce Rich's blog, James Alison's blog.
[Thumbnail image cc. from Katey on Flickr.]
Comments