Video – Conversation with LGBTQ People

In other news while I was absent from here, I got together with a friend of mine a few weeks ago and made a video!

My friend Dee is starting Dark Water Ministries, “a ministry focused on bridging the gap between the LGBT community and the conservative community.” So we got to hang out one day and put our minds together to come up with a short video for conservative Christians who want to have conversations with LGBTQ people. The video just focuses on some simple does and don’ts and is only a few minutes long so take a watch.

Check out the video here, Having conversation with LGBTQ people

Check out Dark Water Ministries on their Facebook page here, https://www.facebook.com/lgbtbridge

Update

Hey All,

I haven’t written in quite awhile and I know. I hope you’ll forgive the long break.

My last post was shortly before the SCOTUS ruling on marriage. Immediately following the ruling, which legalized same-sex marriage in the eyes of the government in all 50 states, the internet went kinda nuts. By kinda I mean totally and completely, ridiculously, overwhelmingly nuts. It seemed to me as if every person who had an opinion on the ruling (good, bad, and in-between) and what it meant for the future of the United States, and for Christians in particular, was tweeting, blogging, vlogging, boosting, and sharing their opinion, and most were doing so in all caps and often harsh words.

I had no desire to become one of the voices in this tech-fueled screaming match. So I chose not to write for the time being. I have had some fantastic offline conversations with people from my immediate community in the lull, and I am grateful for those dialogues which I intend to continue even as I get back to writing here, hopefully regularly. I think things have simmered down a lot and I feel comfortable jumping back in with the hopes of writing thoughtful non-reactionary posts.

Thanks for hanging in there while I was gone.

Look for new posts coming soon!

Identity In Christ

At the core having an identity in Christ means Jesus defines who I am. It means at the end of the day, what God says about me is true regardless of what anyone else says, regardless of what even I say. It means whatever I think, whatever I feel, whatever I say or do is not the final word on the matter. God gets the final word. Okay, easily enough said.

But what does that look like practically? It’s hard to write about because, practically, it looks different in different people’s lives. Determining what it means to live out an identity in Christ depends on what you do, where you are, who you’re surrounded by, what you know, what you are good at, and how God is leading at that time in your life.

So rather than making some very vague (though true) statements about identity in Christ that would be applicable to everyone (for example it looks like evidence of the fruit of the Spirit in your life), I would like to write a bit about what identity in Christ is not.

Identity in Christ is NOT Christians running around shouting, “I am who God says I am!”

“I AM WHO GOD SAYS I AM!!!”

When someone asks you about yourself, chances are, you don’t start listing descriptors based on Biblical truths. Personally, I have never responded to, “Tell me about yourself” with statements like, “I am a child of the Most High King. I am dearly loved. I am redeemed in Christ. I am a sinner saved by grace.” All those things are true, and those are the most important things to know in seeking to live my life to honor God. But those are not the kinds of things we usually share when we are talking about who we are, as in our personalities. In those conversations we share our likes and our dislikes, our passions, our downfalls, our thoughts and our feelings. Where those two things collide (identity and personality) might be when we get deeper into a discussion and the conversation moves from things we do and don’t do to why. At that point in time it may be more natural, and more appropriate, to discuss pieces of our core identity and how that identity shapes our day to day lives and actions.

Identity in Christ is not becoming exactly like Jesus in every way.

Hear me out. If it were, that would mean all Christians would be slowly turning into Middle Eastern Jews. Our complexion would be changing, our facial structure would change. All Christians would also be turning into males. The Bible doesn’t tell us much about Jesus’ minor personality traits, but we would be developing those too. Suppose (just for the sake of the argument) that Jesus really liked the color orange, didn’t like the taste of figs, and loved salted fish. Guess what? All Christians would be developing those likes and dislikes too! But sanctification is not becoming the same personality as Jesus, or literally turning into the same exact person.

Historical Reconstruction of what Jesus may have looked like. We are not morphing into this.

Sanctification is actually about becoming more of who we were made to be in our uniqueness. God designed each of us to individually reflect the image of God in a unique and beautiful manner. Yet sin (both sin nature & sinful actions) in our lives bends and distorts that image. Becoming more like Christ is experiencing more and more of who God intends us to be without that sin problem. We reflect more of the character of God, while each having our own personalities.

Identity in Christ is not claiming things that are presently untrue in the hopes of them becoming true.

God gets the final word on who we are. But that doesn’t mean we ignore, cover up, or change our language to hide the reality of our experiences. In Christ I am forgiven and redeemed. Yet, it is true that I have sin in my life, both sin nature and sinful actions. It is also true that all sin will one day be removed from me (including temptations to sin). But it is not true yet. Having my identity in Christ means I can simultaneously hold what appears to be contradictory truth, that I am still a sinner and that I am entirely cleansed by Christ and free of sin. It is when I claim one without the other that problems arise. If I ignore Christ’s redemption I fall into despair in light of my sin. If I ignore my sin I go on sinning with an unrepentant heart. A mature identity in Christ trusts that God can hold both those truths side by side and seeks to hold them both myself.

Why Queer?

In my last post, I explored the understanding of all people as image bearers of God. I think this is a crucial belief for Christians. If we strip others, especially others we disagree with, of this image-bearing quality, then we disregard the design and work of God in their lives and beings. I also noted that a holistic understanding of an individual is vital. Valuing someone for all of who they are helps us avoid confining them and their identity to their LGBTQ status.

But there is something to saying I am queer. Though it’s not all of who I am, it is a part of who I am; when I say I am queer I am saying something about myself. So what do I mean when I say I am queer?

You may also be wondering why I choose the word queer, rather than same-sex attracted (SSA), homosexual, or struggling with SSA? While I could go into a Biblical and linguistic hermeneutic to explain why I think it’s appropriate and helpful to use language such as gay or queer, such discussions are not new territory. Many thoughtful pieces have been written on the subject. Check out Spiritual Friendship (shared blog space with posts by many authors) and this list of posts on labels and on identity; A Queer Calling and their posts about An Ungodly Identity, the Language Police, Alphabet Soup, and Don’t Say Gay; Julie Rodgers’ blog and her post Can the Gay be a Good; and the blogs of Eve Tushnet and Melinda Selmys who have both written on the subject as well.

Since so much other work already exists, and at this point in time I would not be adding to the conversation, only repeating arguments of others, I would rather give you a brief explanation of why I personally prefer the term queer.

In the past queer has been used against LGBTQ individuals as a derogative slur (and can still function as one today). A quick look up on dictionary.com will define queer as “strange or odd … unusually different.” But some LGBTQ individuals are reclaiming and redeeming the word queer. We are in essence saying, yes, we are different, there is something about how we experience our sexuality or gender that may be a bit odd, but that does not have to be a bad thing. We can be happy in our uniqueness and we can claim it without being shamed by our strangeness. As a Christian, I find this concept quite beautiful. The fact that I know God is about redemption, that all things are being redeemed, and that God does not always work in conventional ways gives me a special appreciation for the parts of myself that are odd. I enjoy actively reclaiming what some would see as negative in my life; to me being queer is not a bad thing.

Further the word queer offers a term for those who find their sexuality or gender hard to articulate and difficult to categorize. I find I prefer queer because I am one of those people who doesn’t fall neatly in the lines. My experience of gender is fuzzy, at best. I have neither a strong connection to femininity nor masculinity. I tend to feel most comfortable when my expression is more androgynous, though I have some days when I feel more connected to my body and some days when I feel very disconnected and confused about my body. Then, when it comes to sexuality, which is usually defined based on one’s gender, my starting place is already a bit skewed, since my gender experience is blurry. Further, when I experience attraction it is to individuals of the opposite sex, but the attraction is almost entirely romantic, not sexual. In fact, the concept of sex is something very close to horrifying in my mind. Body fluids are disgusting. No part of me wants to touch someone else or be touched in that way. I am on the asexuality spectrum. I am not, however, aromantic. I do experience romantic attractions and when I do, I usually feel like I would just like to hold someone’s hand forever, like I want to tell them everything about myself, and learn everything about them. Most of the time when I talk about my sexuality and/or gender it is neither necessary nor helpful to try to explain all that.

Using the word queer allows me to say something about how I experience the world without trying to articulate the intricate complications of my experiences.

Asexuality Flag

Genderqueer Flag

Identity

One of the biggest concerns I encounter from Christians is the fear that someone who calls themselves gay, lesbian, or queer is defining him or herself in a way contradictory to their identity in Christ. I think this comes from a misunderstanding of both what a person is saying when they say they are gay and a misunderstanding of what it means to have one’s identity in Christ. I’d like to explore this in two parts. This post will focus on what being gay means to one’s personal identity. The next post will focus on what being in Christ means to one’s identity.

The language in and around the LGBT community has changed over time to reflect the shift in understanding of human sexuality from one based on actions (a man who has sex exclusively with other men is gay) to an understanding based on sexual and romantic attractions (a man who is attracted exclusively to other men, regardless of his sexual activity or lack thereof, is gay). Due to a mental ingraining of this antiquated definition of being gay, I think we have a tendency to hear someone the word gay, and think of gay sex. If we hold to a traditional sexual ethic we quickly link gay sex to sin. Thus in nanoseconds of learning one fact about someone, we have categorized them negatively in our minds. We, the listeners, are often the ones who decide that an LGBT individual’s orientation is a higher identity than God’s image in them, or God’s Spirit filling them. We don’t like the things that pop into our minds when we hear the word gay, so we figure the people who describe themselves as gay must be bad too.

When I tell someone I am queer, I am describing only a small piece of my experiences; I am not asserting my orientation as the sole definer of who I am. In fact, I don’t want to be viewed as only gay, there are many components of my identity and personality that are fun, interesting, difficult, broken, beautiful, and worth getting to know. What if we could accept someone who is gay or lesbian for the whole person that they are? How do we begin to shift our minds away from that former definition based on gay sex, to the modern understanding of gay orientation and see someone’s gayness as a small piece of a larger and infinitely valuable person?

“So God created man in his own image,

in the image of God he created them;

male and female he created them.”

Genesis 1:27

I suggest trying an exercise something like this one. When you first learn that someone is gay, lesbian, or queer and you start to experience that ingrained reaction of defining them by their orientation, as soon as possible take the time to begin a list of other traits you know to be true of this individual. If you’re in a conversation it can be a quick mental list. Though, if you have time to sit down and make a written list that’s even better. This will be easier if you’ve known them for a while. Nonetheless, if you’ve just met the person you can still glean details about who they are from your time together. Think about what they look like, where they’re from, any hobbies they mentioned, what job they work (maybe they love dogs, hate cats, are white, 27, have green eyes, like old-timey cars, and black & white tv shows). All those things you knew to be true before you learned they are gay are still true now. All those things you just learned about your new friend (co-worker, parishioner) are as true as well as the fact that he or she is gay.

People are multi-dimensional and complicated. Far more complicated than trying to solve a Rubik’s cube.

Before you finish your list, and I would recommend even starting the list with this if you can, add one more item. Write out: ‘This individual is made in the image of God.’ As Christians we believe all people are image bearers, thus both Christians and non-Christians alike reflect God’s beauty, goodness, joy, peace, and love, and are of infinite worth. If you know this person to be Christian you can also add, ‘are filled with the Spirit of the Lord’ because we know that God has promised his Spirit to all believers.

“In him [Jesus Christ] you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit”

Ephesians 1:13

When we take into account a fuller understanding of an individual we prepare our hearts and minds to better love and care for them.

Oriented to Love Dialogue Call for Applicants

Interested in that retreat I mentioned in my first post? Want to learn about other Christians who are different from yourself? Want to dialogue about sexual diversity in the Church? Oriented to Love has an open call to applicants for the next retreat, July 9-11th.

Learn more and get and application here:

Oriented To Love Call for Applicants

On Belonging

Belonging can be an odd thing for Christians in this world. We are told to be in the world but not of it. We were created to live here and instructed to multiply, to fill the earth. We know that it is not good to be alone. We are designed for community, designed to belong with others. While we desire to belong we are also keenly aware of the broken aspects of ourselves, humanity, and the world that create an almost ever present sense of not being home. We look forward to the coming of the new heaven and the new earth and our new bodies, but we don’t live in that state now. So it’s in the tension of simultaneous belonging and outcast status that we live. Aren’t we all seeking the moments when we feel the connection more than the separation? We all want to be known, accepted, and loved in a place where we are meant to be.

I believe there are moments in this life where we get glimpses of the belonging we will experience in the next and eternal life. For me, I’ve had two particular experiences of that sense of belonging. The first was my confirmation into the Anglican Church. The second was at a retreat I recently attended.

My confirmation was about two years ago and I remember it in detail. I was so nervous I messed up the liturgical response to the archbishop’s question despite the fact I was reading it off a paper right in front of me. But when the archbishop placed his hands on my head to confirm me and bless me I felt so much peace, all the nervousness faded away, and I knew I belonged. After the service that night I wrote in my journal, quoting a line from the book, Perks of Being a Wallflower, “I feel infinite.” And I did. Not in an immortal, unkillable sense. In the sense of being connected to something far bigger and more lasting than myself. I had family – spiritual brothers and sisters, I had shared history – for better or worse the past of the Anglican Church is part of my story now, I had a name and a theological foundation to stand upon after years of calling myself a Christian mutt and claiming no denominational allegiance. I’m not saying Anglicans have everything right; in fact I’m convinced we do not. Nor am I claiming we are the best or singular true denomination. We’ve got our good points and our bad, just like all the others. But I have found a home here, a niche that I belong to, a connection that at times, like the night of my confirmation, allows me to transcend the present sense of separation and to taste the sweetness of belonging we will share in one day for eternity.

I had a similar foretaste of that unity at a recent retreat. For one weekend a small group of Christians from diverse doctrinal and theological backgrounds gathered to dialogue about faith and sexual minorities. Half our group was made up of sexual minorities (gay, lesbian, bisexual, same-sex attracted) and the other half consisted of the sexual majority (straight, heterosexual). All wanted to learn more about and discuss LGBTQ issues within the context of our faith in Christ. Going into the retreat we did lots of preparatory work, prompted by our facilitator, so we had already shared a fair bit about ourselves before the weekend ever arrived. When I showed up on Friday afternoon and started meeting the other participants I was keenly aware that this was the first place I had ever walked into where everyone knew me as both Christian and queer. I didn’t need to fear judgment or rejection for either of those things. The two most seemingly contradictory parts of my life (according to our culture) were already known by all and I was accepted, not just accepted, I was welcome. What’s more, there were others in the group like myself, Christian and sexual minorities. In a sense these were “my people” we had shared history, shared struggles, shared fears and hopes, in a way that non-LGBTQ Christians or non-Christian LGBTQs don’t know. That kind of shared experience creates an incredible sense of belonging. That belonging lasted throughout our time together, and continues now as we stay in touch. Much like Anglicanism, this group of people is not perfect, we don’t have it all together, we don’t have all the answers, we don’t agree on everything. But we listen, we hear one another, we share ourselves, we seek Christ together, and we are united by the Holy Spirit. That is the kind of unity I expect we will experience when we are united in eternity. That unity is a beautiful glimpse at how we are meant to truly belong.