Quick Bites

Let’s start off by tackling some of the big questions:

Why is this conversation necessary? Why are people, especially those from evangelical contexts probing the “Christian” response to issues of LGBTQ+ identity?

Well, despite some suggestions to the contrary, it’s not because it’s ‘trendy’ or ‘popular’. It’s not because people are ‘looking for an excuse to capitulate to culture’.

Any suggestion that queer people and their families and friends are reexamining what the scriptures and Christian theology have to say on these matters, because they’re looking to ‘make excuses for’ or ‘embrace’ sin, is callous, ill-informed, and unhelpful. One can ultimately disagree with the conclusions that these real people have drawn, but one should not write them off by ascribing to them flippant motivations.

If we take an honest look, we see evangelicals—queer people and their loved ones—questioning what they’ve been taught because it seems unsatisfactory in light of the realities playing out in their lives. The explanations, teachings, and interpretations they’ve carried with them for decades seem insufficient to speak to their experiences and the experiences of people they love.

This leads us to one of the most commonly employed talking points: “as a Christian, you must always let scripture interpret your experiences, and never the other way around.” Or, to put it as someone recently said to me “our experience, though it matters, must never be placed above God’s Word.” There are, of course, multiple examples of the Church largely altering its understanding of scriptural prescriptions, based on ‘experience’ (see below for just a few examples).

And the evidence upon which the current ‘experience’ is based is overwhelming. If you do not have a queer person in your life who has shared their experience—of coming to awareness of their sexual/gender identity, reckoning with it, attempting to alter it through spiritual and psychological discipline, experiencing grief and crushing despair in light of their ‘failure’—I would encourage you to read just a few of the stories of those who have bravely offered them publicly: B.T. Harman, Sydney Hatmaker, Julie Rodgers, Austen Hartke, Trey Pearson, Laura Jean Truman, Matthew Vines, and Justin Lee, are just a few of these.

So, we should not be surprised, nor should we assume spiritual malice or negligence, when people choose to say that their experiences or the experiences of people they love, are worth reexamining their perspectives on LGBTQ+ persons and Christian faith. We should trust that something has stirred within them, causing them to step out into a scary and vulnerable place, seeking to find resolution to the tension between their faith and their loved ones (or even themselves).

Another necessary reality to acknowledge here is that the stories of bewilderment and confusion and heartache and frustration and grief and despair and inadequacy and failure do not represent some outlier, when it comes to queer people who grew up in Christianity. They are not some aberration. They are the overwhelming and consistent testimony of countless LGBTQ+ persons who grew up in the Church.

And their stories are backed up by numerous studies:

In 2011, the University of Texas at Austin’s Research Consortium conducted a survey of over 21,000 students (aged 18-30). The students responded to questions about the importance of religion or spirituality to their personal identity, as well as questions about suicide. It found that increasing importance of religion correlated with decreased suicide attempts–for heterosexual youth. For gay and lesbian youth, increasing levels of religious importance in their life were correlated with increased odds of suicidal ideation.

One news outlet offered this summary on the study: “In fact, lesbian and gay youth who said that religion was important to them were 38 percent more likely to have had recent suicidal thoughts, compared to lesbian and gay youth who reported religion was less important. Religiosity among lesbians alone was linked to a 52 percent increased chance of recent suicidal ideation.”

A study from the Trevor Project found “[w]hen adjusting for other related factors, LGBTQ youth who had not heard their parents use religion to say negative things about being LGBTQ were at half the risk for attempting suicide in the past year compared to those who had”.

Summarizing another study, an evangelical pastor offered this heartbreaking synopsis:

“Church affiliation normally is associated with improved mental health for young people…

However, gay Christian youth with high religious guidance–they’re the ones with the greatest risk of self-injury, increased likelihood of suicidal thoughts, ideation, or attempts compared to their heterosexual counterparts.

That even gay kids that grow up in completely irreligious homes, fare better than gay kids who grow up in religious homes.”

Whatever the evangelical church is doing, however sound it believes its teachings to be, whatever ‘love’ it believes it is offering to the queer kids in its pews—it’s not working. The fruit of this approach is overwhelmingly awful: self-injury, suicidal ideation, suicidal attempt. Story after story. People I know and love. People you know and love. Study after study. They’re all telling us that the status quo is not working. That it is destroying lives and crushing families. And I don’t know how much more bad fruit this tree needs to bear before we are willing to consider to chopping it down and throwing it into the fire.

Maybe you feel generally sympathetic toward the concerns discussed above. That doesn’t make it any less scary to ask the question “what if I’m rejecting what God has said?”

If, like me, you grew up in conservative Christianity, one of the most serious charges that could be leveled at you was that of imitating the sin of the serpent in Genesis 3. To question church teaching is often considered tantamount to an attempt to lead people away from the clear instructions of God.

It is hard to ask the question “did God really say?” without being accused of nefarious intent (or at least being deceived and thereby serving as an accomplice to the forces of darkness). But I believe it is a worthwhile question to ask. I wonder what good might come of honestly asking and investigating that question more often.

All the reading, all the conversation, and now the content produced on this site, is all an attempt to wrestle with that question. 

So, in short, my aim is not to reject “what God has said” (whatever we take such a concept to mean). Rather I want to honestly press into the question “did God really say?”.

That’s a worthwhile question. And it’s one complicated both by the evolution of views over the passage of time, and variance in belief regarding what realities of sexual/gender identity constitutes “sin”.

Because of this, the language of the “traditional” position is problematic. No doubt you’ve heard talk over the past couple of decades about “traditional family values” and “traditional marriage” and the “traditional” understanding of human sexuality.

Here’s the thing: the ancient understanding of human sexuality (that informed the biblical writers) is not the same as the later premodern understanding of sexuality that informed people like the Reformers, which also differs dramatically from our current understanding of human sexuality. And if that weren’t enough, large streams of evangelicalism aren’t even in agreement on how to frame the issue of human sexuality/gender identity.

It is well worth our time to trace those ideas out more thoroughly.

At the risk of oversimplifying: ancient writers did not conceive of what we might refer to as “sexual orientation”. They did not think of people as straight or gay.

New Testament scholar Richard Hayes (who, by the way, is not ‘affirming’ of queer relationships) writes that sexual orientation “is a modern idea of which there is no trace either in the [New Testament] or in any other Jewish or Christian writings in the ancient world…The usual supposition during the Hellenistic period was that homosexual behavior was the result of insatiable lust seeking novel and more challenging forms of gratification.”

To reiterate, the ancient writers (likely including the biblical authors) did not have a robust concept of “sexual orientation” that would see some persons as (through no volition of their own) attracted to people of the same sex. They understood ‘same-sex desire’ as specifically the result of lust run amok.

Let me state what I hope is obvious–this belief (that there is no innate sexual orientation–only excess sexual lust that can play out in “homosexual” ways) is flatly and thoroughly contradicted by the experiences of actual LGBTQ+ persons.

This isn’t a subject I have studied in depth, but I will offer a few comments. For most of the history of the church, the primary view was that people who experienced same-sex attraction were merely spiritually corrupt.

For example, the famous fourth-century theologian and preacher John Chrysostom assumed that people engaging in same-sex acts also experienced opposite-sex attraction and could avail themselves to heterosexual marriage for sexual release, but simply chose not to.

Martin Luther famously believed that the devil caused same-sex desires, after a person rejected God. (And therefore could not conceive of a gay Christian [even committed to celibacy]) Luther, drawing on his understanding of Romans 1, understood same-sex desire to be a marker of one who is willingly rejecting God.

As well, the seventeenth century biblical commentator Matthew Henry (a favorite among lay evangelicals) believed that God gave people over to these “vile affections” as punishment for idolatry, and he seemed to approve of his government sentencing such individuals to death.

In much of my writing, I am relying on the scholarship of various authors (to whom I am incredibly grateful). In this particular response, much of what I share also reflects my own observations as part of conservative American Christianity in the late 20th century.

• • Growing up, my first impression of what the church believed about queer people was that they were intentional reprobates, making a deliberate choice—a free choice that they could, if they so desired, simply repent of and turn from. Gay people were a reality to be disgusted by, a living example of the consequences of intentional godlessness. As scholar Karen R. Keen points out, this was the dominant view of the church up until the 1990s.
  • By the time I was a teenager, a new paradigm began to take hold in Christian circles: “the gay person as a broken struggler in need of compassion.” As Keen points out, this new approach was the result of the ex-gay movement (around since the 1970s) becoming endorsed by Focus on the Family. This perspective promoted the idea that it was possible to change one’s sexual orientation through Christian discipleship and “therapy” to heal childhood wounds. The “ex-gay” perspective challenged the prevailing assumption that being gay was simply a rebellious behavioral choice.
  • However, time revealed the truth that, despite the best efforts of ex-gay “therapies” and Christian discipleship, “sexual orientation change is unlikely” for the vast majority of people. As Keen notes “like previous shifts, this was brought about by the stories of gay people, namely young Christians whose testimonies differed from those of [previous generations of] ex-gays. Ex-gay testimonies frequently cited a history of dysfunctional behavior, including promiscuity and drug abuse. Thus, reports of change in sexual orientation were enmeshed with experiences of healing from destructive habits or wounds of childhood sexual abuse.” In contrast, the younger generation, often with no destructive behaviors to heal of, or stories of neglect or abuse to explain their orientation by means of environmental factors, rejected the ex-gay movement. Eventually, even many of the leaders within the ex-gay movement came to repudiate it as well, publicly admitting that rarely, if ever, did sexual orientation change occur through their programs (I have written a slightly lengthier reflection on the subject here , with a long-form piece coming soon).

The conservative church today largely falls into 3 categories:

• • Celibate gay Christians. People in this group generally do not advocate for pursuing change in sexual orientation, though they may be open to mixed-orientation marriages. They emphasize strong friendships and community to address the problem of loneliness that come from not pursuing a romantic relationship in line with one’s hardwired (queer) sexual orientation. Many of them embrace their sexual wiring as a God-given gift in many respects; one that provides them with an important perspective through which they operate in the world. However, in line with their understanding of scripture, they reject the impulse to pursue romantic/sexual activity in line with their wiring. The author and scholar Wesley Hill is a notable advocate of this approach.
  • Ex-gay Christians. Despite the very public repudiation of the practice from leaders like Alan Chambers (former leader of ‘Exodus International’), many conservative ex-gay ministries have doubled down on their belief in and commitment to their approach. Charismatic groups like Bethel out of Redding, CA are responsible for a recent re-branded resurgence of the ex-gay approach.
  • What author Karen Keen refers to as “Gospel Coalition same-sex-attracted evangelicals”. She would name people like Rosario Butterfield and Christopher Yuan in this group. Unlike ex-gays, they reject reparative therapy (as well as many of the underlying assumptions about ‘environmental factors’ as responsible for one’s sexual attraction), and are likely to advocate for celibacy or mixed-orientation marriage. But unlike much of the main celibate gay Christian movement, they reject the term “gay”, believing that gay identity is an unhelpful social construct. Also, they tend to argue for a spiritual explanation (the Fall) for same-sex attraction (over biological or environmental causation).

While there are other perspectives in conservative Christianity (including some fundamentalist churches who still take the “intentional reprobates” approach, as well as the small “affirming” movement within evangelicalism), these three perspectives make up the bulk of where conservative American Protestant Christianity stands today).

I think it’s probably safe to say that where the scriptural texts reference same-sex activity, they speak of it negatively (I’ll address the topic of gender identity in scripture a bit further down).

However, the fact that sincere people of faith continue to revise their understanding of issues around sexual orientation and gender identity, as they engage the evidence around them, including the lived experiences of real people, tells us that the issue is more complicated than simply “taking the Bible at face value”.

In fact, I don’t think you’ll find too many people of faith (outside of fundamentalists who still consider queer people to be, by definition, deliberate reprobates) who don’t do some sort of synthesis, attempting to make sense of both the contemporary data we have regarding sexual orientation/gender identity and the words of the biblical authors.

[Example: when Christians speak of the biblical Fall as the explanation for why people experience same-sex attraction, they are not simply restating what the scriptural witness has to say on the matter. To the extent that the scriptures provide an explanatory framework for the topic, the explanations are deliberate idolatry and being given over to ones own shameful lusts (Romans 1). For centuries, Christians read this passage and took it at face value (see above comments on Martin Luther and Matthew Henry). But, as modern Christians have pressed into this, they have found such an explanation does not largely fit the experience of LGBTQ+ persons (including LGBTQ+ Christians). They have therefore either bypassed the explanation offered in Romans, or re-read it in such a way that fits with their understanding of the “Fall” as the explanatory origin for these matters]

So, while I recognize that in the few places the scriptures speak to these topics directly, they speak negatively, I also recognize that the ancient contexts and assumptions undergirding the texts may come into conflict with our contemporary understanding of the realities of sexual orientation and gender identity. And the solution cannot simply be to claim that “experience must defer to scripture”. As we have seen above, even conservative Christians have altered their understanding of the claims of scripture, based on the truths that the real lived experiences of queer people have made manifest.

The apparent “consistency” of the scriptural witness on these matters may serve as a starting point, but it should, by no means, be the last word in this conversation.

There are, of course, a handful of passages traditionally associated with the “biblical” view on these matters. The story of Sodom in Genesis 19, Levitical laws in Leviticus 18/20, Paul’s argument in Romans 1, and the Pauline use of the terms arsenokoitai (1 Corinthians 6 and 1 Timothy 1) and malakoi (1 Corinthians 6). These “clobber passages” (so designated because they have been so often wielded as weapons), are the most commonly discussed and debated passages, and I would be remiss if I didn’t address them here:

The story of Sodom in Genesis 19 is a strange episode where the men of the city want to rape angels. There’s a lot to unpack here, but suffice to say (1) This story is about rape, and has no bearing on consensual relationships of any kind. (2) The rest of the biblical material is quite clear that Sodom’s sin was not “embracing homosexuality” but being “arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned” with the poor and needy, being hostile to the vulnerable.

How does the story in Genesis 19 connect to the idea of Sodom’s sin as disregarding the vulnerable and needy? Well, in the ancient near East, travelers and those without shelter were dependent on the hospitality of others for their safety. The desire to rape and humiliate strangers was not an issue of “gay sexual desire”, but a way, in a patriarchal context, to humiliate them. It was to declare “you are not of value, you are not welcome here, and here’s how contemptibly we treat you. We rape you to put you in the role of a ‘woman’.”

The Hebrew prophets understood the “sin of Sodom” to be arrogant self-interest and hostility and abuse toward the vulnerable. This perspective appears to be confirmed by Jesus in Matthew 10/Luke 10).

Even if one takes into account the odd language 2 Peter and Jude about sexual sin in the context of Sodom, it is clear that what is being condemned is mixing with “strange flesh” (sarxos heteras). Or “angels”. The authors of these texts (apparently drawing on the Jewish tradition of their day) condemn the men of Sodom NOT for pursuing flesh that was too similar (an issue of “homosexuality”), but pursuing flesh that was too different (that of the angels).

Nowhere in the biblical witness is there evidence that Sodom’s sin was ever identified as that of “homosexuality”.

(I have taken a ‘deep dive’ look at Sodom here)

In Leviticus 18:22, the Hebrews are commanded not to lie with a male as one lies with a female (because it is an abhomination). And in Leviticus 20:13, the prohibition is repeated and they are commanded to be put to death.

Before I go any further, it is helpful to remind an evangelical audience that distinctions we might make about the “types” of laws (moral vs. ceremonial, cultic, dietary, civil, etc.) are a somewhat foreign imposition. For the ancient Hebrews, the keeping of all of these laws was a moral duty. Such a caution should inform any impulse we may have to “assign” laws as ‘moral’ (and therefore still binding) or ‘ceremonial, etc.’ (and no longer binding).

The passages themselves give limited context or explanation for the prohibition. Perhaps they are prohibiting humiliation through rape (as in the story of Sodom). Perhaps they are addressing pagan cultic practices (note the proximity to the prohibition against cultic child sacrifice in Lev 18:21). Or, perhaps the issue is the violation of gender boundaries? (This seems likeliest to me, but I wanted to make clear that there are multiple possibilities as to the intent of the law, and we ought not presume we know what moral logic undergirds it)

Note the language in both passages–a man lying with a man “as one lies with a woman”. There does seem to be some issue of gender boundary transgression here. Most non-affirming perspectives would agree with this issue, and then pivot to talking about anatomical complementarity (to put it crudely: male and female “parts” fit together). Yet, if the gender boundary transgression here was an issue of “anatomy” we would expect to see a similar prohibition against female-female relations (note the Levitical code’s inclusion of both male and female acts of ‘beastiality’).

Rather than anatomical complementarity, the gender boundary being transgressed here is more likely that of violation of male honor in a patriarchal society. To lie with a male is to reduce him to the role of a “female”, degrading him and failing to honor his God given status as a man (we see a very similar concern in the story of Sodom and an analogous incident in the book of Judges). (An interpretation echoed by several ancient commentators).

Additionally, there may also be a concern with the improper “spilling of seed”. This would also explain the lack of “female” inclusion in the same-sex prohibition.

None of these comments are definitive, but they do offer very compelling explanations for the prohibitions in these passages that are centered around the assumptions and frameworks of ancient Hebrew life that are distinctly separate from the issue of LGBTQ+ persons today.

I reference patriarchal assumptions a lot, especially with respect to the passages in Leviticus and the term malakoi that appears in 1 Corinthians 6.

I hope it is evident that the context out of which the scriptures come is one that assumes a gender hierarchy and a patriarchal framework that ought to be untenable to even the most conservative among us.

Even modern day ‘complementarians’ (who see a God ordained differentiation in household and ecclesial roles, based on gender) profess the basic equality of men and women, even as they argue for differentiation of role. But the ancient contexts out of which the scriptures come, do not make this assertion of equality.

This is why, in Genesis 19, the worst thing the men of Sodom can think to do to the strangers is to treat them ‘like women’.

This is why Philo and other ancient commentators on Leviticus 18/20 are horrified at the prospect of two men together, condemning both the one “becoming feminized” and the one “enabling feminization”.

This is why (as I address below), in Paul’s day, it was a shameful thing to be called “soft” (aka, feminine). Not because such a person exhibited what we today would think of as stereotypically feminine qualities. But because they lacked self-control. They were thought to be a slave to their passions–like a woman. They lost the dignity of their superior status as a man, in behaving ‘like a woman’.

Patriarchy also explains why the scriptures seem to be exclusively concerned with male-male relations. There is not one clear instance of condemning female-female relations in all of scripture.

[In brief, Romans 1:26 (the verse often cited regarding female-female relations), states “their women exchanged natural function for that which is unnatural”. Contrasting this, Paul is explicit in the following verse with respect to men engaging with men. Notably, for hundreds of years the early church read verse 26 as women engaging in ‘non-vaginal heterosexual behavior’, rather than a reference to female-female relations.]

Patriarchal hierarchy pervades the cultural backgrounds out of which the scriptures come, and one cannot properly understand the concerns present in these passages, without taking that into account.

There is a LOT packed into these four verses. To unpack them would require, among other things, addressing Paul’s use of the concepts of lust, honor/shame, purity, and what is natural, and how they provide insight into the behavior he is speaking to, as well as his understanding of the nature of that behavior. Addressing each of those, even briefly, would be beyond the scope of these comments.

For the sake of simplicity, let me offer a couple of brief general comments (with the expectation that I will write a longer reflection on the passage soon):

It is easy to focus on Paul’s words “dishonorable passions…men gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another…committing shameless acts with men…” and miss the fact that Paul isn’t offering general comments. He specifically describes them as people who “knew God, [but] they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him.” According to Paul, these people “exchanged the glory of God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things”. As a punishment (Paul says), God gave them up to dishonorable passions, “because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator.”

I cannot speak for anyone else, but I don’t know any queer people who had this experience. Whoever we think Paul may be describing here bears little resemblance to the people who can attest that they recognized their sexual orientation at a very young age—so young as to not have a real understanding of moral choices. It bears little resemblance to the youth group kids who sang and cried and prayed—the ones who actively, relentlessly sought to serve the Creator, and not the creature. Any quick association of Paul’s description with the LGBTQ+ kids in our pews ought to give us pause.

Then who might Paul be speaking of? His language may very well likely be a reference to the specific debauchery of the Roman emperor Gaius Caligula. Even if it is not a reference to Caligula specifically, it seems to be a stand-in for the worst of Roman debauchery. Note the way that Paul emphasizes these acts as “sinful lusts” and “abandoning natural relations”. In at least this case, and perhaps for Paul generally, the same-sex acts are connected with lust causing natural sexual desire to run to such excess that it abandons the bounds of acceptable outlets in its quest for gratification. Again, trying to tie Paul’s rhetoric of deliberate debauchery to the experiences and realities of actual queer people, seems dubious at best.

(A ‘deep dive’ look at Romans 1 will be coming shortly)

The debate in these passages revolves around two terms arsenokoitai and malakoi.

In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul writes “Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither fornicators nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor malakoi, nor arsenokoitai, nor thieves nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers, will inherit the kingdom of God”.

And in 1 Timothy 1, the apostle recounts a similar vice list, including “those who are lawless and rebellious…those who kill their parents, for murderers, for fornicators, for arsenokoitai, and kidnappers and liars and perjurers, and whatever else is contrary to sound teaching…”

You may have heard that these terms refer to male homosexual partners, likely referencing the “active” and “passive” partners. It may not come as a surprise that such readings are not remotely assured.

First, malakoi. The word literally means “soft”, and is used elsewhere in the New Testament to describe fine clothing. When it is used in a moral context, it was often used to describe a lack of self-control, weakness, laziness, or cowardice. In short, it was a slang insult for anything considered “feminine.” In Paul’s day, to be called “effeminate” was to be considered weak and out of control. A man who was guilty of gambling, greed, or vanity, was “soft” or not in control of himself. And where the term was employed in sexual contexts, it most often meant men who succumbed to the charms of women. They were considered “soft” or “effeminate” in that they were self-indulgent and enslaved to their passions. The idea that this term refers to a “passive” male sexual partner is tenuous at best.

Now, arsenokoitai. Paul’s use in 1 Corinthians 6 is the earliest known example of the word and has led some people to conclude that he coined it himself. The term itself appears to be a compound word, comprised of arsen (“male”) and koites (“bed”). This has resulted in the word being often understood to mean “men who bed other men”. Granting for a moment the possibility that Paul had this in mind (possibly derived from the Greek translation of Leviticus 20:13), we still must ascertain what Paul’s intent was. It is helpful to remember that the most common forms of same-sex behavior in the ancient world were pederasty, prostitution and the sexual exploitation of enslaved persons by their masters. All abusive and exploitative situations. The surviving examples of the use of the term in the centuries after Paul indicate that the term was used to describe abusive injustice and exploitation. The term was listed in “vice lists” of economic exploitation, often separate from “sexual” vice lists.

In the Pauline writings, the term is situated between economic and sexual vices. Note in 1 Timothy its proximity to “slave traders/kidnappers”. Based on the ancient usage, it seems reasonable to posit that whatever “sexual” connotations arsenokoitai had, it was also related to issues of economic exploitation/injustice. Thus, a reading of the term that refers to exploitative practices like pederasty, prostitution, or exploitation of enslaved persons, is much more likely than a reading that sees Paul referring to two consenting adults.

None of this offers a confident reading of the Pauline texts as “active and passive homosexual partners.”

As much as conservative Christianity largely would like to emphasize the “clear” and “unambiguous” nature of the texts we’ve addressed above, a more honest assessment would concede that the passages either indicate issues that are foreign to our concerns (issues of pagan practice or gender hierarchy or proper use of semen), or involve issues of rape or abuse/exploitation (Sodom and arsenokoitai), or exist as such a rhetorical hyperbole as to be irrelevant to the concerns of actual queer people in the church (Paul’s language in Romans 1 that is either a critique of the Imperial house of Caligula, or a more generic descriptor of pagan debauchery).

This is not to say that the above scriptures offer a positive picture of gay relationships. But to acknowledge that when and where they speak to the issue directly, they are addressing situations or operating on assumptions that offer limited guidance to the church today, as it seeks wisdom regarding queer issues.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve”. 

Bumper sticker slogans aside, many of the theological objections raised against LGBTQ+ identity stem less from the passages we examined above, and more from the broader understanding that “biblical marriage” precludes endorsement of queer relationships.

Much of this argument in centered in Jesus’ words from Matthew 19: “Have you not read that He who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? So they are no longer two, but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let no man separate.” (note that Jesus quotes from Genesis 1:27 and 2:24)

The non-affirming argument that is drawn out of Matthew 19 and Genesis 1-2 is generally that ‘anatomical’ and ‘procreative’ complementarity of opposite genders are part of the divine framework for proper romantic/sexual relationships. To put the argument another way: God’s design is for males and females to be together in romantic/sexual union–which is evident in their anatomical complementarity (their sexual organs fit together) and their procreative complementarity (they can produce ‘natural’ children).

A more thorough discussion of the issues at play here is worthwhile, but for the moment, let me offer the following comments on the nature of marriage in Genesis 1-2:

• We will be exploring the idea of Genesis 1:27-28  and “male and female, he created them” more in-depth below. But for now, I do want to point out that arguments for exclusively heterosexual marriage on the grounds that heterosexual union alone can fulfill the command in verse 28 to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth” are hard pressed to provide coherent articulation that avoids denigrating the marriages of infertile people, older people, and other marriages that cannot produce children.
• The Genesis 2 account sees marriage as a solution for the adam’s loneliness—not incompleteness (as if the problem can only be remedied by the addition of woman as an anatomical ‘missing piece’). It is better to read the need addressed as ‘companionship’, rather than ‘completeness’.
• The ill-fittedness of the animals to serve as the adam’s counterpart is contrasted with the appropriateness of the woman. Her appropriateness is not seen in the passage as rooted in her gender/anatomical complementarity (a matter of sufficient difference), but her sufficient sameness (“This at last is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh”). Genesis 2 is not focused on complementarity, but on “shared identity, nature, and experience between the man and the woman, over against the rest of creation” (as articulated by Dr. James V. Brownson)

I’ll conclude with this reflection: Jesus’ choice to invoke Genesis 1:27 and 2:24 ought to be read in the backdrop of his discussion with the Pharisees. They brought the issue of divorce to him, and framed it within the context of Mosaic law. Jesus’ concerns are for the permanence of marriage (not its sexual/gender differentiation), and his appeal to Genesis establishes an earlier precedent for marital standards than the Mosaic law his opponents invoke. Taking the emphasis of Jesus’ argument into account, it seems clear that the ‘biblical’ focus of the ideas of “clinging” to one’s spouse and becoming “one flesh” are centered around the importance of the permanence of the kinship bond created (rather than physical complementarity).

Throughout the biblical texts, a metaphor appears multiple times: The relationship between God and God’s people is like the marriage between a husband and a wife. (In the Hebrew prophets, this metaphor is God and the people of Israel; in the Pauline writings, it is Christ and the Church).

It is often argued that this metaphor is evidence that non-heterosexual marriage is excluded from God’s design for humanity.  But, as scholar Megan DeFranza points out, biblical marriage (the kind envisioned in these scriptural metaphors) is not only “heterosexual”, but also patriarchal:

“Patriarchal marriage, the union of an inferior person to one who is superior and to whom one owes obedience, is much more suited to illustrate the relationship of the church to Christ than contemporary heterosexual marriage. It is the imbalance of power between humanity and divinity that led ancient writers to see a parallel in the imbalance of power between wives and husbands which was assumed by them to be natural and secured by law. ‘Biblical marriage’ was heterosexual, but it was also patriarchal, often uniting an adult man to a child or teenage girl with little education and fewer legal rights. Patriarchal marriage is the basis for the theological metaphor illustrating the relationship between God and God’s people, not contemporary Christian marriage supported as it is by equal education and modern law.”

Modern Christians have reframed their understanding of marriage as the union of two equal partners. In doing so, they have abandoned a central component the ancient metaphor of marriage as a picture of God’s relationship with God’s people. Or, to put it another way, the reason that the ancient metaphor required a husband/man and wife/woman, is that there was a hierarchy of status (mirrored in the imbalances between God and humanity). A marriage of equals (whether heterosexual or otherwise) removes this key component. Modern Christian marriage has already moved away from the metaphor in critical ways—whether or not we are aware of it. Excluding queer people from Christian marriage on the basis of this metaphor seems hypocritical.

A helpful concept for us to consider, as we reflect on scriptural descriptions of marriage, is the difference between ‘normal’ and ‘normative’.

Some elements of the scriptural comments on marriage are explicitly meant to be ‘normative’ or ‘prescriptive’. They represent elements that are commanded. One clear example of this is Jesus’ teaching regarding divorce. In his dialogue with a group of Pharisees, he argues for esteeming the permanence of marriage. We would say that Jesus’ words in this regard are ‘normative’.

Other aspects or elements fall into what we might call ‘normal’, rather than ‘normative’. That is, they assume certain ‘givens’. They are descriptors of the expectations of the writers. When Paul refers to the marriage of husbands and wives, he is not making a prescriptive statement (“men should only marry women, and women should only marry men”), because Paul could not have conceived of a world in which any other scenario was a ‘given’. This is not to argue that Paul would have endorsed queer relationships/marriages. But to acknowledge that there are things that were outside the scope of the concerns of the biblical writers.

I firmly believe that the idea of ‘biblical’ marriage as ‘heterosexual’ is the result of what the writers saw as ‘normal’, rather than ‘normative’. Which is another reason why, despite the attempt to find concern for ‘anatomical complementarity’ embedded in the text, such a focus seems absent in the scriptures.

It is also what was ‘normal’, rather than ‘normative’ that saw marriage as patriarchal. We need not carry their assumptions of what constituted a ‘normal’ marriage, in order to arrive at a helpful understanding of contemporary Christian marriage.

As we transition to a more in-depth examination of gender and gender identity, I want to revisit the oft-quoted phrase in Genesis 1:27–“male and female he created them.” Not only has this phrase been employed to argue against the validity gay, lesbian, and bisexual relationships, but also to invalidate the experiences of transgender, non-binary, and other gender nonconforming persons.

(For some quick but helpful resources on the scientific complexities of sex, gender, and gender identity, check out these talks from the TED Radio Hour, this article on sex and gender as ‘bimodal’, and this overview from biologist Rebecca R. Helm)

There are two specific verses sometimes referenced to critique the idea of transgender identity: Deuteronomy 22:5 (which prohibits men from wearing women’s apparel or women from wearing men’s apparel) and Deuteronomy 23:1 (excluding from ‘the assembly of the LORD’ anyone whose testicles are crushed or whose penis is cut off). As you might imagine, these verses from the Mosaic Law are, by themselves, of limited value in addressing the question of whether or not one’s gender identity can be different than their biological sex assigned at birth. Which is why Genesis 1:27 is often invoked as a framework for understanding ‘God’s design’ in a way that excludes the possibility of transgender acceptance.

Having said all of that, I do want to point out that most evangelicals (including non trans-affirming evangelicals) recognize the real existence of gender dysphoria (gender dysphoria defined as: the distress a person feels due to a mismatch between their gender identity and their sex assigned at birth). Many evangelicals recognize that, in individuals who experience gender dysphoria, this is a real (and unchosen) phenomenon. Of course, most of these evangelicals also understand gender dysphoria to be a psychological malady that is a product of “the Fall”.

To that end, evangelical scholars Mark Yarhouse and Julia Sadusky have articulated three interpretive “lenses” for understanding gender identity:

• Integrity: In light with most evangelical readings of Genesis 1-2, there is understood to be a sacred integrity of maleness or femaleness stamped on one’s body. Any attempt to deviate from this sacred integrity stamped upon one’s body is considered a movement away from God and God’s design. There may be compassion for individuals who experience gender dysphoria, but compassion must always lead them in the direction of embracing their God given sex and gender.
• Disability: If the integrity lens relies on Genesis 1-2, then the disability lens leans on Genesis 3. They would see gender dysphoria as an unfortunate departure from what is ‘meant’ to happen (not entirely unlike a medically diagnosable disability), and one of the unfortunate results of living in a fallen world. The disability lens would emphasize empathy, and people holding to this approach may or may not embrace gender affirming choices (hormone therapy, surgery, clothing choices, pronouns, etc.) made by those experiencing gender dysphoria. 
• Diversity: The diversity lens would see gender and gender expression along a continuum, where most people’s experience is that their biological sex and their sense of gendered self are both unambiguous and in congruence with one another. Yet, they would not see the existence of a spectrum of sexes (including the various realities we group together as ‘intersex’) and a spectrum of gender identities as indicative of any ‘defect’. As part of the natural continuum of what ‘is’, this range of sexes and genders ought to be embraced and celebrated, not shamed or suppressed.

Over the course of the next couple of reflections, we will examine which of these viewpoints seems to best resonate with the treatment of gender minorities in the scriptures.

We addressed above the mental health threats that religious backgrounds posed to queer youth. I want to speak to transgender experiences specifically, right now.

Scholar Megan DeFranza provides a horrifying litany of statistics:

“While Christians wait for scientific answers and debate theological ethics, transgender people continue to suffer at the hands of others and at their own hands at alarming rates. Fifty-seven percent have family members who refuse to speak to them, 50–54 percent experience harassment at school, 60 percent have been refused health care by physicians, 64–65 percent have suffered physical or sexual violence, 57–70 percent have been discriminated against and/or victimized by law enforcement, and 69 percent have experienced homelessness. Even more harrowing are the suicide rates. In the general population, the 4.6 percent rate of suicide attempts is deeply troubling, but this rate is more than double (10–20 percent) for lesbian, gay, and bisexual persons, and it skyrockets to 41–46 percent for transgender and gender nonconforming people. For gender nonconforming and transgender people of color, the rate is terrifyingly high: 54–56 percent.”

The psychological trauma of rejection, the physical harassment and violence endured, and the weight of having to navigate a world that often withholds basic human necessities from them, are crushing our transgender siblings, especially transgender people of color.

An unfortunate addendum to this is that, evangelicals often blame transgender people for their own self-harm, claiming that their depression, anxiety, and despair, is due to their decision to reject ‘God’s design’ by choosing to pursue surgeries or other gender affirming courses. I want to pause to recognize that surgery may not be the right course of action for everyone, and to acknowledge that among the (limited) data available, regret does occur. Having said that, even evangelical scholars Yarhouse and Sadusky acknowledge that most participants report an overall sense of satisfaction and improved quality of life, post-surgery.

Scholar Megan DeFranza, who has done the definitive work on Christian theology and intersex studies, traces the concept of ‘eunuchs’ throughout the scriptures, and helps draw out the scriptural perspectives on gender minorities. Her work will serve us well here:

• Genesis 1: A binary pattern is offered for several categories of creation (seas/dry land, light/dark, male/female…). ‘Separateness’ is a major theme of the Genesis 1 creation account, in line with ancient Hebrew understandings of purity expounded in Mosaic Law.
• Mosaic Law: As we have noted above, the Mosaic Law excluded eunuchs from the assembly of the Lord (Deut 23:1). In a nation where maintaining separateness was a symbol of purity and “set apartness”, mixing of many things was forbidden (“Do not plant two kinds of seed in your vineyard…Do not plow with an ox and a donkey yoked together. Do not wear clothes of wool and linen woven together…”). Eunuchs, whose bodies blurred the lines between male and female, represented an improper mixing of two things.
• Isaiah: Yet, despite the themes present in Deuteronomy, we see a new perspective offered in Isaiah 56. God promises them a place in the community. Furthermore, not only is there no promise to heal eunuchs or to restore them to the apparent binary of Genesis 1, but they are blessed as eunuchs, and promised something “better than sons and daughters…an everlasting name that shall not be cut off”.
• Matthew 19: While Jesus quotes from Genesis 1 and 2 (referencing a male/female pattern for humankind), he also identifies other kinds of people, including ‘naturally born eunuchs’ (first century Jews gave this label to people born with ambiguous or differently formed genitals). Jesus speaks about such persons in a very particular way–specifically, he does not speak of them as proof of ‘the fall’ or as people in need of healing of their condition. In Jesus’ ministry, eunuchs “are not presented as a problem to be fixed in the coming kingdom; rather, they are held up as models of radical discipleship”.
• Book of Acts: In chapter 8, we see the apostle Philip affirm that there is nothing in the way of the Ethiopian eunuch being fully welcomed into the community of Jesus.

It cannot be emphasized too strongly that the prophetic word in Isaiah, reinforced by the words and ministry of Jesus, and the example of the church in Acts, was to see gender minorities as being fully welcome in the community of God’s people, and even models of radical discipleship. They are explicitly not offered ‘restoration’ to some ‘Edenic’ ideal of gender, but a blessing in God’s kingdom, as they are.

Now let us revisit that phrase “male and female he created them”, one final time.

The Genesis 1 account does give a picture of two options for humanity: male and female. But it also gives binary options for light and dark, and land animals and fish of the sea. Yet, dawn and dusk exist (blurring the distinctions of the light/dark binary), as do amphibians (blurring the distinctions of land and sea animals), and shorelines and marshes (blurring the distinctions of water and dry land). But I have yet to hear a line of argument that suggests such boundary-crossing of the Genesis 1 binaries on these situations is evidence that such realities are ‘against God’s design’ or ‘a product of the Fall’.

Yes, the vast majority of people fall into the category of (cis) male or female. But there are plenty who do not. The United Nations fact sheet on intersex notes “Between 0.5% and 1.7% of the population is born with intersex traits”. Human sex exists on a continuum. There are two basic body patterns, and while they are the majority, they are not the exclusive reality. Combining what we know to be true about the continuum of biological sex, with the prophetic and New Testament tradition regarding such persons, we are best served by seeing gender minorities (including intersex persons, transgender persons, nonbinary persons, and other gender non-conforming persons) as people to be affirmed and embraced, rather than to be forced into an “ideal” binary. It seems prudent to interpret the binary presented in Genesis as a broad-stroke picture of the majority (like the other general categories described), not the exclusive model for humanity. Thus, if we return to our question of ‘lenses’, the ‘diversity’ lens best fits both the scientific data, and the teachings of the scriptures.

The ex-gay movement (birthed in the 1970s), gained popularity in the 1990s.  The evangelical group Focus on the Family threw its weight behind the ex-gay moment in the late 90s, and, in the era I grew up in, this approach was widely embraced.

And why not? If being gay was a sin, wouldn’t it stand to reason that God would offer deliverance and healing for anyone who sought it and sought him?

Early stories coming out of ex-gay ministries and programs seem to confirm this. Participants offered powerful testimonies of being delivered from destructive lives: addictions, abuses, and patterns of reckless sexual behavior.

Yet, as the years went by, it became apparent that being delivered from drug addiction and reckless and unsafe sexual encounters was not the same thing as having one’s sexual orientation changed. Many participants in these ministries began to admit that, despite years of therapy and prayer and seeking, there was little (in any) change in their sexual attractions. By 2013, the head of Exodus International (the largest ex-gay ministry in the world) admitted that, not only did their program not produce the promised results, but it caused hurt and shame and guilt and pain.

And here is where we get to the worst part. Because when people—especially struggling, vulnerable LGBTQ youth—come to these organizations, with the hope of change, and they ultimately don’t experience it, they often sink into a deep depression. Either they become disillusioned by the false promises of the organization, or they mistakenly feel as if their own failure to achieve change is the exception and experience deep shame. Either way, these sickening outcomes (often accompanied, in youth, by suicide attempts) are the fault of the organizations that knowingly market themselves as being able to offer an outcome that few if any of their participants experience.

For the sake of the literal lives of our queer youth, let us abandon, once and for all, the ideas of the ex-gay approach, and all its promises of ‘healing’, ‘deliverance’, and ‘change’.

(A great resource on conversion therapy was recently launched by Q Christian Fellowship and the Trevor Project. The website can be found here, and a downloadable guide can be found here.)

(Long-form reflection on this subject will be published soon.)

If you’re currently connected to evangelical spaces, you’re likely familiar with the “celibacy” approach to LGBTQ+ persons and the church. Recognizing that change in sexual orientation is not something that is possible for the vast majority of people, this perspective requires them to maintain the apparent biblical prohibitions against same-sex intercourse and pursue life-long celibacy.

This was a perspective I embraced, when it became clear to me that the ex-gay/reparative therapy approach was not only ineffective but harmful. And it makes a certain amount of theoretical sense: if some people are wired with a non-hetero sexual orientation, and it is not possible to change this, the remaining way to keep them “in line” with the biblical requirements is to require they refrain from acting on their wiring.

I have to say, it’s very easy for me to come to such a conclusion. I’m not the one who is cut off from the possibility of romantic pursuit, intimate companionship and partnership, and sexual expression for the rest of my life. I have much more respect for someone like Wesley Hill, who has chosen this path for himself, believing that this is what God calls him to.

This topic deserves much more treatment than I can give it here, but I wish to offer just a couple of thoughts on the idea of celibacy in the Christian faith:

Jesus speaks to the issue of celibacy in Matthew 19, declaring that his words could be accepted only by “those to whom it is given.” And the apostle Paul, addressing the Corinthian church with issues of marriage, advocates not marrying if possible, but offering up the accommodation of marriage for those who do not have the ability to control their passion. (Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 7 are not exactly the stuff of wedding sermons, but they do reinforce the idea that the New Testament advocates celibacy, specifically for those who are able to bear it)

In the early centuries of the Christian era, Church leaders advocated strongly for celibacy whenever possible, believing it to be a reflection of the end of marriage that would define the age to come. Despite the fact that the early Church fathers saw celibacy as superior to marriage, they also strongly emphasized that not everyone could attain this ideal. The Protestant Reformation deviated from this approach, by not only allowing for marriage as a concession, but recognizing its essential goodness and necessity. Luther argued that celibacy was a gift to be praised, but that it was just that–a gift. Not given to everyone. He rebuked teachers who would force celibacy upon whole groups of people, comparing it to burning a child to death in honor of the devil.

The clear teaching of both scripture and the history of Christianity is that celibacy is a gift given to some, not a burden to be imposed on entire populations of people in order to satisfy a particular understanding of scriptural teaching.

I often hear non-affirming Christians claim that queer Christians are to reject the possibility of non-hetero romantic relationships and pursue celibacy (or mixed orientation marriage) because Christians are called to pursue holiness over personal satisfaction.

Yet, it is important to remember that to deny oneself is not necessarily to engage in a holy act. I may deny myself flavorful food or the luxury of joking with friends. But these are not inherently holy acts.

One Anglican writer, Michael Jensen reminds us “Suffering is an aberration—it has no value for its own sake and is not good in and of itself…Though some Christians have glorified suffering for its own sake, this is a false trail. Truth and love are the nonnegotiables, not pain.”

And writer Laura Jean Truman reflecting on this, imagines a scenario where you are told sunlight is sinful:

“Instead of spending your time fighting sins that are hindering your ability to love the world, you spend every day praying for forgiveness for stolen moments in the garden watching the sun rise…

Your whole life is consumed by the desire for sunlight – a desire that you know is wrong and not who God created you to be – but you can’t shake the longing.

You spend so much time praying for relief, and when you don’t get relief, you pray for the grace to bear this heavy burden of desire.

There are some ways in which this draws you closer to God. But it’s intimacy born of tears and heartache and shame…

[T]he hard path by itself isn’t inherently valuable.

And self denial is not an end in itself…

Whenever we name something unclean that God has called clean, we are ripping roses and sunflowers out of our garden and calling them weeds. And we’ll never see how beautiful springtime will be.”

Perhaps we should be slow to tell the queer siblings in our pews they are putting their personal satisfaction above holiness. And more willing to step back and let the fruit of their lives bear the evidence.

As well, many well meaning people employ the line “I think your identity should be in Jesus”. They argue that giving attention to one’s sexual or gender identity and choosing to live in ways that align with such an identity amounts to idolatry.

Yet I cannot remember ever hearing such charges leveled against the host of ways that modern evangelicalism prioritizes gender-specfic ministries or heteronormative identities.

There is no great outcry in evangelical Christianity over men’s retreats or women’s Bible studies. Rather, there is excessive emphasis put on “biblical manhood” and “biblical womanhood”. Narrowly defined versions of stereotypical gender norms are not only allowed to be given expression, they are often celebrated as the Christian ideal.

There are a host of ways that evangelical Christianity allows and even celebrates expressions of gender and sexual identity. Sometimes of these are given emphasis that (to put it generously) borders on idolatrous. I have yet to encounter any evangelical theologians argue that such expressions of identity run the risk of displacing one’s ‘identity in Christ’. (Ironically there is a plausible case to be made from Jesus’ words in Matthew 19, that one laudable expression of radical discipleship actually involves giving up one’s privileged [read: male] gender identity).

Asking queer people to approach Christian faith devoid of their sexual and gender identity is to ask them to do something evangelicals explicitly claim is not possible. As (ironically) Owen Strachan argues “If we are a man who comes to Christ, we are not a gender-neutral Christian but a Christian man. If we are a woman who comes to Christ, we are not a gender-neutral Christian but a Christian woman.” To deny queer people the same right to live an embodied faith, is to create a double standard.

As a counter point to the suggestion that one’s sexual/gender identity is in direct opposition to one’s ‘identity in Christ’, let me conclude with this story from Megan DeFranza:

“Identity in Christ and obedience to Christ are important to transgender Christians. Lianne Simon, my colleague at Intersex and Faith, explains how it was her desire to focus on her calling as a Christian that influenced her decision to transition from the sex she was assigned at birth. Lianne was assigned male because that is how her body looked at birth; her intersex traits were discovered later, years after she began questioning her gender. 

So why did I switch from living as a boy to living as a girl? Did I one day decide to rebel against God’s clear plan? No. I prayed about it. A lot. Did I have a desperate need to be a girl? Um. No. At times being a girl sucks. Like when a man won’t listen to me because I’m a woman. So why did my gender matter so much? Because I was close enough to death to smell the lilies at my funeral. My life revolved around my inability to function socially as a boy to the satisfaction of those around me. I wanted a life. I wanted peace. I wanted to live for Jesus rather than die by my own foolishness. I wanted to honor God with the hand he’d dealt me. . . . Most of all I wanted people to leave me alone. My doctor said that with my face and demeanor I wouldn’t have any trouble being accepted as a girl. He was right. The bullying stopped. For more than forty years I’ve been able to focus on things other than my gender, to be a productive member of society, or as Article VI says, to “live a fruitful life in joyful obedience to Christ.”

Of course of all of this (the hope for ‘deliverance’, the demand to remain celibate, the exhortations to renounce one’s sexual identity for the sake of ‘holiness’ or to avoid ‘idolatry’), is predicated on the supposition that when people choose to live in congruence with their non-heteronormative sexual orientation / gender identity, they are engaging in sin.

It seems problematic that evangelical belief asserts ‘this is sin’, and then largely stops pressing the issue. If these matters are ‘sin’, then we ought to expect that they follow consistent patterns for temptation, sin, obedience, spiritual growth, and joy, that we see elsewhere laid out in the scriptures.

Regarding ‘sin’ and ‘temptation’: The evangelical perspective that one’s ‘orientation’ is akin to ‘temptation’, and ‘sin’ only enters the picture when one pursues or engages in ‘behavior’, is problematic for at least a couple of reasons.

For one, the New Testament itself does not provide much room for distinction between sinful ‘acts’ and the ‘inclination’ toward such acts. Jesus’ teaching in the sermon on the mount makes it clear that impulses to sin that arise from within oneself are manifestations of sinfulness that one is morally culpable for. Nor does there seem to be much place for a behavior/orientation distinction to LGBTQ+ ‘sin’ if one considers Paul’s words in Romans 1 (“sinful desires”, “shameful lusts”).

Second, this dubious distinction is problematic when considering the actual realities of navigating ‘obedience’.

What does it mean for a queer person to discern the difference between the consequences of orientation (which many evangelicals grant grace for) and pursuing ‘behavior’ (which these same evangelicals would consider sinful disobedience)?

What does ‘obedience’ mean, when the entire continuum of one’s desires (that are a part of sexual orientation) are under suspicion? How ought one to pursue obedience (in a very practical sense)?

The ‘obedience’ much of evangelicalism requires of queer believers is an endless and exhausting practice of introspective vigilance, suffused with constant guilt over potentially ‘crossing the line’. Eventually for some, worn down and fatigued, they resort to numbing themselves emotionally and relationally–suppressing their ability to give and receive true intimacy. Countless stories echo those of Julie Rodgers, who writes: “What I didn’t know before was that you can’t selectively shut down. When I had suppressed my sexuality, I had to detach from my desires, my feelings, my intuition, my capacity for intimacy. That process of fragmentation inhibited my ability to truly know myself or connect with other people.”

The ‘fruits’ of this obedience become, in the actual lives of queer Christians: confusion and shame, dis-integration, loneliness, isolation and depression.

All of this stands in stark contrast to the ‘fruit’ that Galatians 5 says is the result of walking by the Spirit. It is in stark contrast to Jesus’ declaration in John 15 that keeping his commands produces joy.

In short, we ought to be slow to use terms like ‘temptation’, ‘sin’, ‘obedience’, and ‘spiritual fruit’, with respect to LGBTQ+ identity, unless we are willing to press into the fullness of complexity involved in employing those terms.

(I have put together a longer reflection on this topic, available in two parts here and here.)

All of this is well and good. It is one thing to acknowledge that a handful of scriptures speak to specific ‘same-sex’ situations that seem to be far removed from the context of the LGBTQ+ youth who fill our church pews today. It is one thing to recognize that what is “normal” in scripture may not be “normative”, and the concept of queer relationships/marriages was beyond the imaginations of the biblical writers.

It is quite another to move from that to decisive and dramatic action. To change course and move against the current of the streams of Church tradition.

And it’s worth asking–has this been done before? What is the precedent for radically re-thinking and re-envisioning the Church’s approach to moral issues?

As early as the New Testament book of Acts, we see the early Church changing its mind on major issues of morality and inclusion. In Acts 10, the apostle Peter experiences a dramatic vision of divine welcome and inclusion. Peter understands the vision to be a repudiation of his current moral/spiritual paradigm, and he declares to the gentile convert Cornelius “God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean”.

Yet, the Church has not, and should not, stop at the pages of the New Testament. In his book The New Testament and the People of God, N.T. Wright likens the scriptures to a 5 act Shakespearan play, in which Act Five is the Church. And while the New Testament serves as the first few pages of script for this act, the call of the Church is to finish the story. Wright argues that, in order to ‘put on the play’, it is not sufficient to simply repeat lines from an earlier part of the story. There must be a commitment to study the story, to see the direction it is going, and to engage in what he calls “faithful improvisation”.

And the church has engaged in this process, over and over.

Over the centuries, Christians have repented (literally: a fundamental change in thinking that leads to a fundamental change in behavior) with respect to a number of major moral issues. From slavery to women’s rights, the Church has taken the seeds of justice embedded in the principles of the scriptures and applied them in ways unimaginable to the biblical authors.

Scholar David Gushee describes these moments in the history of the Church, and notes that they occur when “an older or inadequate way of connecting the biblical dots” disintegrates in the light of “transformative encounters with real human beings”.

If there was ever a candidate of re-thinking the Church’s approach to a matter, in light of “transformative encounters with real human beings”, surely this is it.

Some might argue that the examples above may represent commendable moral progress, but they are of limited benefit in conversations around queer persons and the Church, as there is no biblical prohibition being broken in the moral ‘advancements’ in question.

Here, I think the example of divorce may suit us well.

There are four instances in the Gospels where Jesus speaks on the issue of divorce (Mark 10/Matthew 19, and Luke 16/Matthew 5). From these instances, a small group of principles emerges:

• Divorce is not permitted (with the exception, in Matthew, of sexual immorality [porneia])
• To violate this command is to be guilty of adultery (and, according to Matthew 5, it makes the other partner a participant in adultery).
• Anyone who is divorced and remarries (or anyone who marries a divorced person) commits adultery.

Additionally, in 1 Corinthians 7, Paul writes that a husband with an unbelieving wife who consents to live with him, should not divorce her. Likewise, if a wife has an unbelieving husband, but he consents to live with her, she should not divorce him. The implication seems to be: if one is a believer and one’s spouse is not, the believer is not guilty of sin if the unbelieving spouse leaves the marriage.

Here the New Testament offers clear moral prohibitions on a matter (divorce). The exceptions are limited (‘sexual immorality’, and being deserted). Yet, the Church has found room to make accommodations that the New Testament clearly does not allow for.

While the evangelical church certainly does not celebrate or encourage divorce, I don’t know of the widespread practice of naming divorced individuals as adulterers, refusing to remarry divorced individuals on the grounds that doing so would be committing adultery (something Jesus says specifically in Matthew 5), or refusing to accommodate divorce on the grounds of spousal abuse (an exception not named in Jesus’ clear teaching).

Obviously, I don’t think following the above practices would be good or healthy or reasonable. The fact that the church largely operates in a way that widens the door of grace and acceptance is a good thing, in my view. But it is also a violation of the clear limits set out by Jesus in the New Testament.

If the church has found room to see grace and possibility outside the clear teaching of Jesus himself on this moral issue, I cannot fathom the logic that would prohibit it from doing so on a matter like LGBTQ+ identity, that the scriptures are much less clear on.

(I have written a lengthier reflection on the issue of Divorce and LGBTQ+ persons in the church here)

I’d like to close, with one more reflection on “whether I’ve got it right” and “what happens if I’m wrong”. Because I know that this is a nagging fear that many of you have. You’d like to explore the possibility of seeing things differently, but there’s so much fear involved. What are the consequences if you’re wrong?

Again, Laura Jean Truman puts it so much more beautifully than I ever could. Please, read her reflections in full.

And in the meantime, let me share this excerpt:

“[S]ince we are fallible, and likely wrong about so much, I would rather err on the side of love. I would rather be wrong while trying harder to love, trying to open my arms wider to bring more people around the Table, sitting with more isolated women by dusty wells and redefining compassion by opening the borders to the Samaritans and Gentiles and cultural outsiders more and more. And if I am wrong, because I opened up the borders wider than Christ intended, I think the Apostle Paul stands with us in that particular folly and failure when he tells us that everything falls away when compared to our love for our neighbors.”

I do not believe that sincere effort to open up the embracing arms of inclusion and love will be rejected by God. Even if I got it wrong, even if I was too eager to provide welcome and affirmation, I do not believe in a God who is more concerned about making sure I got the boundary markers right, than that my heart was oriented toward inclusion.