If you haven't yet, check out this post that I wrote over skin, substance, and sexuality. It is the first part of two that voices my thoughts on same sex relationships, and in it I present that all people are made of more than merely body parts; humanity is made of a deeper, more magical sort of stuff.
We're made of substance; not skin.
And our sexuality, though it is a part of us or perhaps even an expression of us, does not define any one of us. Our identities do not lie solely in our sexualities.
The following words you are about to read are hard and messy to say the least, but they are more than worth it and important to discuss. Today we're delving into homosexuality and all the common reasons why many Christians stand against it. If we're honest with ourselves, I think many of us stand against homosexuality but we aren't really sure why. Maybe we can recite bible verses or quote Timothy Keller, but we haven't actually thought through the reasons that we are listing off. Maybe you've thought it through. I don't know. To me though, every reason breaks down.
Why do we need a reason to stand against it, anyway?
My hope is that we both can have open ears, gentle hearts, and Jesus spirits as we wade into deeper waters, into the great unknown where we must depend on God.
Out in these parts of the ocean, mere human attempts will certainly fail.
Why have these conversations at all, right? Why not discuss easier topics around our campfire?
There are various reasons, but first and foremost is this: I'm tired of the war on homosexuality that the Church is constantly engaging in.
And it's not just because I have multiple friends who are a part of the gay community, though this is certainly true too. It's more than that. It's because in our firing bombs and shooting arrows at those that many disagree with, harm is being brought to precious lives of human beings.
People who are made up of flesh and breath and stories and cells.
Lesbians, gays, transgenders, and bisexuals have been marginalized for far too long, and it's important for those who believe in their equality and empowerment to speak up, to be a voice of hope and change and all things life.
If you've ever felt marginalized, hurt, burned, or hated by someone who defined you by your sexuality, then I am speaking these words to you from an aching place: I am truly sorry.
I'm sorry we've labeled you. I'm sorry we've reduced you to your anatomy, as if you aren't a part of the collective us that is humanity. I'm sorry you've been hated and demeaned, disagreed with and shunned. I'm sorry we've body shamed you into being afraid to speak honestly and freely, and I'm sorry that you don't feel welcome in various contexts, the Church likely being the first.
Chin up, buttercup. You're really brave.
And I'm not only in agreement with you, but I am standing with you strong.
The Functional Machine Theory
Somewhere along the way Christians formed a theory that implies that all humans are similar to robotic machines, that each person is designed one way for one purpose, period. Then, once we decided this about ourselves as individuals we thrust that notion upon groups of people and even experiences. For example, I have actually had someone tell me, to my face, that because I am a woman I am made to bear children, that God designed me that way. If you've ever had someone define you by your body parts, then you know how dehumanizing it is. When someone spoke those words over me I wanted nothing more than to shout back, "A body isn't who I am; a body's simply what I have!"
Now, do I think God designs humanity spiritually? Absolutely. He has made me for good works, and I am created to love and be loved. However, this is drastically different than stating that I am made for childbearing simply because I, biologically, am a woman.
Oftentimes in the Church we reduce the purpose of an individual to his or her body parts, and I'd argue that we see marriage through the same lens. As an experience we say that it's like a machine, and we view men and women as the parts that make it work together. A man is meant to marry a woman, and the union of these two differentiating anatomical bodies are meant to result in a fruitful product of children. This is God's plan for marriage, short and sweet.
Except that this cannot be true. First of all, if God's plan for marriage (and humanity) is solely to produce children, then barren women, infertile men, or those born with biological defects or abnormalities should not be allowed to marry by Church standards. Furthermore many straight couples choose not to have children purely because that's what they prefer, but if marriage is solely designed for bearing children, then straight couples who do not wish to have kids should not be allowed to marry either.
A lot of times in response to homosexuality we say, "but it's not natural", and I think maybe we mean that it cannot result in baby making or something like that. True, relations between two people with similar anatomy cannot result in the birthing of children, but who said marriage was all about the sex happening anyway?
I don't think we could objectify marriage any more. We've taken a beautiful experience and reduced it's function and purpose primarily down to anatomy. We've declared that the purpose of marriage, the reason why it exists is primarily sexual, and the purpose of two people committing to one another is to have sex and bring forth children.
Perhaps you've never phrased your views of marriage in those terms specifically, but when you advocate for heterosexual marriage being the only type of marriage that is allowed, isn't that basically what you're saying? To argue against same-sex marriage is arguing against the idea that God can exist within the context of two people regardless of their anatomy, and that view is objectifying marriage and the individuals that make it up to say the least, because basically what that argument is saying is that marriage is solely about sex, and I think deep down we don't agree with that statement.
Our sexuality does not define us as individuals, and that doesn't change simply because we decide to commit to each other within the context of a marriage.
It's possible to love a person for more than simply body parts, and even if you're attracted to their skin too, why is that such an abomination?
I don't care if a guy that I allow to likes my boobs, as long as he likes my personality and mind and soul and spirit first. Furthermore, if I give him permission to love my body and he does the same for me, then our physical love for one another is based on respect and mutual love for and submission to one another.
Two people enjoying each other physically because a level of mutual understanding and allowance exists between them is not a sin. This concept based on mutual submission out of love is called commitment, and it's a concept that Paul strongly argues for in the New Testament.
Now, I understand that not everyone views marriage in such a way. However, my personal stance, which I find to be biblically and theologically supported, is that marriage exists as a form of ministry for two people to glorify God through their love for one another by practicing self-denying, unconditional, absolutely mutual love. This is a view of marriage centered around the idea of commitment and within the context of the Church. Obviously, people get married all the time outside of these concepts and confinements, so in this we must acknowledge that not every wedding or relationship is a religious one. Some people are married but don't give God a second thought, and being people made with rights and freedoms and choices and worth, that political decision is up to them. However, the idea of commitment, as I understand it, seems to glorify God in a way reflective of our relationship with Him, and to stray outside of this realm in a relationship seems to only yield way to harm for either person or perhaps even both.
The idea of commitment is two people saying that yes, though I am attracted to your skin (or maybe I'm not, whatever) I am choosing to love you, to commit and submit and to let you love me, first and foremost for your substance. I love you for who you are on the inside primarily, and that's truly beautiful.
Objectifying another person's being down to his or her body, lusting after someone who is not yours to enjoy, forcing yourself upon someone sexually, or various other actions are sinful (or I would label them as such), but they are not sins because of themselves inherently; they are sins because of where one's heart is at. If your heart is in the wrong place, then your actions will be too.
I think maybe this is part of what it means to set your gaze upon Jesus. When my focus is Him, I see life and people through a lens of love. When my heart is after God, my words and actions reflect Him and His love.
Sin is not a legalistic checklist of works; sin is a heart problem.
Can God's love exist between two people, even if they share the same anatomy? Yes, because sin is about where a person's heart is at. Your heart condition spurs the works you produce in your life, no matter if you're heterosexual or homosexual or bisexual or transgendered.
So back to this: why is it okay, according to many evangelical Christians, for a heterosexual couple to show physical affection in public but not for a homosexual couple?
I'll never forget one time in high school I was sitting with one of my dear, dear friends. He's gay, and I've known for a long time. He told me many years ago, and ever since we had that conversation we have had many more, most of which were him explaining his views on same sex relationships and me simply not agreeing, though I could hardly ever vocalize exactly why.
Not that I couldn't quote John Piper or use every evangelical argument under the sun to counter him, because I certainly could do both of these. It's just that with every "reason" that I had to be against same sex relationships, my friend was able to break down each excuse. Every one of my arguments fell through, but I held tight to my stance "because the Bible said so" (or maybe just evangelical leaders did).
Confession time: I used to be homophobic. Not that I was afraid of anyone a part of the gay community, but that I certainly discriminated against anyone who was gay and who didn't find it a sin. That's what homophobia is: any words, actions, or attitudes that express hatred, fear, or mistreatment toward people in the gay community or who support said community. Homophobia can be subtle, and if many of us were to examine ourselves we would find that we likely fall into that category, even if we might not think so at first.
So there we were, sitting outside at the Fort Worth water gardens, and he was attempting to explain to me, for the millionth time, his feelings for other males and why he didn't understand labeling them as sin. This conversation was not a new one; we'd had multitudes of them before. We'd spent countless hours pondering and debating, attempting to understand one another and the God who loved us both but apparently condemned one of us less. Multiple times our dialogue would turn to tears, and we would just sit in his living room or my bedroom and cry, tears streaming down our faces and confusion holding us both captive.
He simply wanted the Church to accept him. I only wished I could allow myself to stop condemning his lifestyle.
There was so much we didn't understand back then.
Sitting at the water gardens that night, legs dangling off a cement edge we finally broke through a barrier, even if just a little bit. We'd gone through the same old arguments, exchanged the familiar dialogue when suddenly he asked me one question, and they are words that have stuck with me to this day: "How would you feel if someone told you that the way you feel about guys is a sin?"
Then more words that broke through the darkness like a shining light: "That's how I feel, and I just don't understand. I'm physically attracted to guys, and so are you. For me it's labeled wrong, but that seems completely unfair, because there's literally no difference between how you feel about them and how I do".
Something locked into place when his words fell upon my ears, because I realized that he was right.
God Created Adam & Eve; Not Adam & Steve
This argument and many like it all come down to how one views the biblical text. Honestly, I could devote an entire series to scriptural interpretation, and maybe at some point I will. For now, let this suffice: every single part of the Bible, every book, chapter, verse, letter, and word has context. The original writers of the Bible were influenced by culture, patriarchy, and much else, and I'm not saying that it's not relevant or God-breathed, because I certainly think it is both of these. However, I also know that the Bible was written in the Bronze Age, so not all of it applies today. In the New Testament Paul outlines rules for slaves and masters, but we don't believe slavery is acceptable today. In biblical times and culture, women could only be talked to through their male headship, but in various parts of the text Jesus countered this norm and spoke directly to women. He countered culture like no man had before, because he knew one truth: the kingdom of God is not defined by the culture of humanity.
As we study the Bible we need to be aware of original intent, theological purposes behind the writings, and the context and cultures in which the texts were written in. We also need to have grace with the Word. I think a lot of times we demand black and white answers, when really scripture leaves room for a lot of gray areas. It leaves a lot open to interpretation and imagination, yet at the same time God and the love of Christ remains constant and stands true. Damn, that's so beautiful to me.
In regards to the Genesis argument, I would never, ever, ever claim that "God created Adam and Eve; not Adam and Steve". The lens through which I see the Creation Story is one in which I allow the text to be what it is: an ancient piece of literature that emerged from an ancient, Near Eastern context. To me, this piece of art aims to address theological concerns, not scientific or biological ones.
I love the Bible, and I believe that it's authoritative and divinely inspired.
I also think it has context, and we often ignore this when making theological arguments.
The "Yuck Factor"
I remember one time I saw two men kissing on a bus that I was a passenger on. The kiss was just like one that I'd seen between various other couples in heterosexual relationships: sweet, intentional, meaningful. It was a kiss comparable to those that I myself have given to guys that I've been in relationships with.
A kiss that says hey, I like you a lot. Here's a touch of affection to prove it.
Here's an outward sign to show what I am feeling in my heart and thinking in my head.
It was a kiss that was no different than other kisses that I'd seen before, but I judged it because it was a kiss between two people that had the same anatomy.
Later, after I'd exited the bus and gone home, I had a conversation with a friend who had been on the bus with me about the exchange we'd seen between the gay couple. To her, it was all about who was watching. Were kids around? She really hoped not. Sin such as that shouldn't be on display for others to see, especially children not old enough to understand how wrong it all was.
I'll be honest with you in this space: watching the couple kiss on the bus made me momentarily uncomfortable. When I saw one man's lips touch another, I instinctively squirmed internally. Why was this so? Was it because there truly was a factor of the occurrence that was "gross" or "wrong"?
Or was it because I had been conditioned to think and feel that way?
I've heard too many people use "the yuck factor" as a valid argument against homosexuality, and this is incredibly disheartening for various reasons. Firstly, this is a reaction that stems from many of us being taught that homosexual relations are gross, icky, or disgusting. This alone is problematic, but the fact that we act upon this conditioning is even worse. I no longer believe that homosexuals showing physical (or any sort of) affection to one another is gross, just as I don't find heterosexuals showing affection to one another gross, but even if I did I should certainly not outwardly show it. To act upon this internal feeling of finding an action gross or icky, what Richard Beck defines as the "gag reflex" in his book Unclean, is demeaning and dehumanizing to who or what one is responding to. To act upon the gag reflex is to judge a person or action by outward appearances rather than looking past the shell to what is on the inside, and that is by no means okay.
As if that weren't disturbing enough, there is a greater reason why the "yuck factor" is an invalid argument: it's the exact same argument that has been used to justify various other forms of physical and social oppression, the most common one being racism.
Let's run through that one again: when I look at someone, anyone and discriminate against them because of a weird feeling inside me, a feeling that we are calling "the yuck factor", I am using the same thought process that was behind racism for so many years, logic that still is behind racism in some parts of the world today.
Saying something is wrong because it is gross to you is neither loving nor logical. As a dear friend of mine once said, "It disgusts me that some people consume mayonnaise, but that doesn't mean I have a valid argument for outlawing or discriminating against them eating it".
What can we take from this? Maybe whatever is yucky to you isn't yucky at all.
Maybe it's just different.
God Hates Gays
No. Just no.
Jesus doesn't mention homosexuality once. Not one time. Isn't that intriguing? We spend so much time in the Church taking a hardcore stand against a concept that Jesus gives no attention to at all. Instead of warring against same sex relations, whether we think them sinful or not, I wish we'd war against the issues that Jesus obviously cared about: poverty, slavery, oppression, and much else. His mission for His followers was and still is the care for the least of these; not to stomp on the feet of precious souls as we shout loudly about "right living".
Not only am I not against homosexuality, I'm very much pro gay rights and an advocate for the gay community. Homophobia, which takes various forms, is equivalent to racism, and that's an issue of equality and social justice. It's a form of oppression, and Jesus came to set captives free.
Additionally, there are actually advantages to gay couples being allowed to marry. Our world is over populated and fertility rates are out of control in various places to say the least, and gay couples who are not able to biologically birth children but desire to be parents are able to adopt children that need homes. A lot of people think that a child will be psychologically damaged if he or she has two moms or two dads, but various academic and scientific studies prove that this is not true. A child can be raised in a healthy, loving, and even Christ-centered home whether it be a homosexual or heterosexual atmosphere.
I realize there will be disagreement, and I suppose that's alright. People will forever have differing views. However, if you are a Christian and you stand against gay marriage, please, please, please do not force that opinion onto the lives of other people. It's not harming you or anyone in any way, and if anything it could even be a positive happening. To force change or to oppressively marginalize groups of people has never been the job of a Christian. Our job forever, each day, to each person, unconditionally is to love, and that means striving for unity to preserve relationships. It means taking communion, breaking bread and fellowshipping together, with those that if it weren't for the Gospel you otherwise never would've been in communion with.
And like, let's stop saying "love the sinner, hate the sin". I don't even know what that means.
Paul divided over very little when it came to the Church. If it wasn't an issue central to the Gospel and the person of Jesus Christ, then he encouraged unity.
We say all are invited to the table, but we hardly seem to mean it. We preach to come as you are, but so many feel so excluded and judged. This is ultimately why I care: because Jesus truly means it. He has set up a table of grace in which all are invited. We're all on equal footing, and we're all in need of grace. We're all broken and messy, but I doubt we need our flaws to be pointed out. When we talk about our sin, maybe we should talk about our own more often. I know I'm a sinner; that's the beauty of grace.
Grace keeps no record of my wrongs. It sets me free, because where my sin brought me death, God's love breathes life.
The Spirit of Jesus is moving and breathing and setting people free, and we are invited to move and breathe and live right along with Him.
To those who are reading these words and have always wondered if you're welcome to the table, if you're welcome in the kingdom of God, I want to tell you the truth: Jesus came for you, too.
He thinks you're really brave.
And He's standing with you, strong.
