A few years ago, a friend of mine who is a well-known leader in the emerging church movement told me that many evangelical leaders are quietly questioning their traditional stance on homosexuality. These leaders are open to a gay affirming position, but have kept quiet for fear of alienating their congregations. However, now evangelical leaders—and not just in emerging circles—are testing the waters more publicly. Last year Tony Jones of Emergent gave a nod to the gay affirming position on his blog. Likewise, Brian McLaren, often ambiguous, has encouraged churches to be agnostic. And in two weeks, Highlands Church, in Denver, Colorado will be hosting “The Evangelical Church and Homosexuality,” a symposium featuring gay-affirming speakers Justin Lee and Mark Achtemeier.

Lee is the founder of Gay Christian Network and Achtemeier is professor of theology and ethics at Dubuque Theological Seminary. Both men have a unique ability to speak to evangelicals due to their own religious backgrounds. They understand evangelical culture and they know how to appeal to the way evangelicals think. This will likely make them persuasive in shifting more conservative churches to consider a gay-affirming position on homosexuality. In a recent address, Achtemeier recounted how he came to support gay marriage and ordination. His views are well worth exploring to examine how and why some conservatives might come to a gay affirming position. Below are quotes from his address (the subheadings are mine) with a few of my own comments:

1. Forming real friendships with gay people challenged stereotypes:

“. . .opportunity opened up for serious conversation and friendship with some quite remarkable gay Christians. This was new for me. When you are a firebrand exclusivist, hurling thunderbolts and belching fire against the opposition, gay people with any sense tend to avoid your company, or at least they avoid telling you they are gay. As a result, what I knew about LGBT people was pretty much defined by the authors I agreed with, and flamboyant stereotypes presented in the media.”

“Like so many traditionalists, I was accustomed to thinking of homosexuality as a kind of destructive addiction, a disordered inclination toward damaging behaviors that was comparable in some respects to alcoholism . . . I also assumed that a gay lifestyle must certainly involve a fairly casual attitude toward scriptural authority and an inclination toward personal self-indulgence.”

“I was expecting to find self-indulgent individuals, who were inclined to elevate their own personal gratification above any serious wrestling with Christian discipleship. My prejudices could not have been more mistaken. What I found instead were devoted Christian believers, filled with grace and a loving concern for the downtrodden that frequently put me to shame.”

My response: I have said before on this blog that the religious Right often shoots itself in the foot because of the gay stereotypes they foster. I believe the ex-gay movement has also contributed to this problem with its template testimony of “I had a bad childhood and that’s why I am gay” or “My gay life was horrible and promiscuous.”  If that is the only story people hear about homosexuality and they later meet a healthy, well-adjusted gay Christian, it really challenges one’s presuppositions. When conservative propaganda does not match up with the real life gay people that folk encounter, it is easy to see why some, like Achtemeier, begin to question their beliefs.

2. It is possible to be gay affirming and still uphold Scripture:

“I hold firmly to the reformation principle that Scripture alone is the highest authority for the church. I further believe that experience is often an unreliable guide to truth, being the product of a nature that is corrupted by sin and self-interest. . . But struggling with this, I came to realize that this important affirmation does not exhaust what needs to be said about the way the Bible and our everyday experience interact with one another. Let me illustrate what I found with a little piece of humor that Saint Augustine threw into an Easter evening sermon he preached in 407 A.D.  The joke comes in the course of comments on 1 John 2:6, where it  says that those who abide in Christ “ought to walk in the same way he walked. “  Well what does this mean, to walk in the same way that Jesus walked, asks Augustine?  Jesus walked on water!  So surely walking in the same way he walked means we should walk on water, too.  Doesn’t that make sense? We chuckle at this.  But why do we immediately recognize this as a joke? It’s not like Augustine’s suggestion isn’t biblical, after all . . . So why don’t we fasten on these stories when we hear John telling us to walk in the same way Jesus walked? The short answer is, this particular way of interpreting the Bible contradicts our experience.”

My Response: Achtemeier did not have a chance to go into his re-interpretation of Scripture during his address. Thus, I cannot comment on his approach. However, I don’t believe his example of Jesus walking on water is a good analogy when it comes to homosexuality. If I read him right, he is basically saying that because it may be impossible for a gay person to go straight, then we should not force the issue. I agree we should not try to force sexual orientation change, but lack of change in sexual orientation does not, then, demand a gay affirming stance. There are many conditions and temptations that are unchangeable, but we don’t consider them God-blessed simply because they are immutable.

3. If gay Christians who try to live celibate lives become suicidal or depressed, this is an indicator that we are trying to push something that is not of God. God’s ways are always life-giving.

“If you can get an alcoholic to stop drinking, you expect that person’s life to get better. Addiction to drink is morally, physically and spiritually destructive; So putting away the bottle leads to human flourishing. Indeed, it’s not unusual to hear people saying “I got my life back” when they talk about recovering from a destructive addiction. If homosexuality is a destructive compulsion like alcoholism, one would surely expect to hear similar sorts of testimonies about it. However much of a struggle abstinence might be, embracing it ought to be life-giving. But I began to encounter testimonies that showed a very different pattern . . . I remember one very devout individual who came to me wanting to talk . . . After years of courageous prayer and struggle, doing exactly what the church and I myself would have counseled, the result was a broken spirit, overwhelmed by despair and anger, ready to renounce the faith and give up on God, seriously contemplating suicide . . . When this person encountered a different understanding of the Bible’s counsel, re-opened to the possibility of finding love as part of a life-journey, and found fellowship in a supportive community of dedicated Christians, the results were simply breathtaking. I saw this person blossom, the waves of depression rolled back, and a vibrant, joyful Christian faith re-emerged. None of this made any sense whatsoever if homosexuality was a destructive compulsion like alcoholism.”

My Response: My understanding of what Achtemeier is saying here is that Scripture points us to what is life-giving, and if gay Christians who have tried to live an obedient, Christian life (by abstaining) end up worse off than before, then something is wrong. I have to agree with him that something is wrong. Though, I am not sure I would come to the same conclusion he has. The recent post, What if You Don’t Change, touches on this. In my own observations, I have seen many reasons why trying to live a single celibate life leads to more despair including: 1) the person is living a closeted life in fear of anyone finding out they are gay 2) a person is focused on trying to change their sexual orientation and despair results when change does not occur 3) there are unresolved feelings of worthlessness; the sexual attractions make a person feel they are sinful and unloved by God 4) rejection from friends or family if one discloses. These are all common reasons for despair that do not have to lead us to conclude homosexuality should be affirmed. I also experienced that despair, but when I came out of the closet, stopped fixating on trying to change my sexual orientation, and realized how much God loves me whether or I am gay or straight, I found much relief. I also have many wonderful people in my life who are not gay affirming, but love me no matter what. All these positive things occurred without me (or my friends) having to affirm homosexuality. The fallacy is in believing that one has to be affirming in order to resolve these other issues. Once these other issues are resolved, the only real remaining challenge is single, celibacy, something I do not think has to lead to despair.

4. Those who are trying to live celibate lives came out of destructive pasts. These individuals confused the dysfunction they experienced (drug addiction, etc) with homosexuality itself. The drug addiction was the problem, not the same-gender relationship.

“Now I would be less than honest if I did not mention the stories that run counter to this pattern I have been describing. I sat in committees at the 2006 and 2008 General Assemblies and listened to testimonies, organized by our friends at One by One, from individuals who had found it healing to move out of a gay lifestyle. I sat there listening to these stories, pondering what to make of them, and suddenly it occurred to me that nearly all of them involved moving away from situations involving either promiscuity or abuse. Not a one of these testimonies told a story of being involved in a loving and healthy same-gender partnership, which the person then decided to leave as an expression of Christian commitment. I realized that these testimonies actually served to confirm what I had been thinking. Of course promiscuous, exploitative or abusive sexual expressions were destructive and unhealthy, and these testimonies I had heard followed exactly the patterns the Bible would lead us to expect: Turning away from sinful patterns of exploitative, abusive and promiscuous behavior led to life and flourishing in the lives of these people.

My Response: This view has also been popularized by the movie Save Me. Many individuals in the ex-gay movement have come out of promiscuity, drug addiction and abusive pasts. However, it seems this template has also been exaggerated because it is the paradigm the ex-gay movement and the reparative therapy movement have created: “If you are gay, it must be rooted in dysfunction.” The fact of the matter is not all people who leave homosexuality do so because of a miserable life of dysfunction. On this point, Achtemeier is simply uninformed. However, I don’t blame him for not knowing since voices that say otherwise are drowned out by religious Right and ex-gay stereotypes. For the record, I was never promiscuous, never abused drugs, and was not sexually abused. I did not stop being in lesbian relationships because I was miserable. I stopped because the Spirit convicted me of sin. I recently posted a video of three gay people who also testified to leaving homosexuality for spiritual reasons and not necessarily due to abuse or other dysfunction.

(Note: I testified at the PC USA General Assembly hearing in 2008 with OnebyOne and thus, Achtemeier did hear a testimony from someone who did not describe a dysfunctional past. In fact, I purposely wrote my testimony to highlight that. You can see the text of it here).

5. The Bible says “it is not good for a person to be alone” (Genesis 2). We are designed to be in relationship. Lifelong celibacy is not healthy or realistic.

“It turned out that there was another biblical understanding readily available in Genesis 2. You remember how God creates the world in six days and declares all of it “very good.” But there is one aspect of the original creation that God declares “not good.” In Genesis 2:18 God says, “It is not good that the human being should be alone; I will make a helper corresponding to him.” Genesis describes God’s creation of human beings for intimate fellowship with another person. This is not a choice that we can simply reverse or undo. It is deeply inscribed in our nature as human beings. The amazing thing about understanding homosexuality in this new way was that suddenly everything I had been seeing made perfect biblical sense. There turned out to be a substantial theological literature describing how spiritually and psychologically damaging it is to deny that aspect of our nature that is described in Genesis 2. I am referring of course, to the Reformation critiques of mandatory celibacy . . . Using Calvin’s terminology, marriage is the help God has provided for dealing with the necessities he has implanted in human nature. Marriage is given to us, not just in a form that responds to our need, but in a way that is positively sanctifying and life-giving and permeated by grace. If, as Calvin insists, it is foolish and rash for individuals to turn their backs on this divine gift and calling, how much more so when an entire church acts to withhold this gift from an entire class of human beings!

My Response: I agree with Achtemeier that we are naturally designed to couple with another person in marriage. But, is an inability to marry or have sex truly that catastrophic? Is celibacy impossible? Does it cause psychological and spiritual harm? What about those who are forced into single, celibacy because they are unattractive or have a severe disability? What about those who endure single, celibacy because they cannot find a suitable mate? Are these individuals doomed to a neurotic life? This sounds a bit too much like the message I have heard from the conservative church that expects everyone to marry and if one doesn’t there is something unhealthy and mentally deficient about that person. I also question whether deep, intimate love can only be found in marriage. Achtemeier sounds like those in the gay community who say you are doomed to a miserable, lonely life without marriage. Certainly, single celibacy is no walk in the park, but does not life have greater meaning beyond marriage? I would argue that the problem is not with single, celibacy, it is in the ways we respond and cope with it. Life has far greater purpose for us as believers than whether or not we marry. There are many people who have used their single celibacy to serve God—for some it was chosen, for others not. I think of Amy Carmichael, Bruce Olson, John Stott and Henri Nouwen, just to name a few.

We need a little perspective here. Single, celibacy is hard. But, it’s not the hardest thing a person has to endure. There are many others who face a much harder lot in life. I have my health, my family and friends, a good vocation and a roof over my head. My life is meaningful and rich. Not everyone is so fortunate. Some people are starving to death; some live with crippling illness or chronic pain; others are subjected to the ravages of war or poverty. There are even those who suffer in lonely marriages, having discovered that marriage is not always what we idealize it to be. God never promised us that life would be easy or fair. But, he does promise us that we can trust him even when life is difficult. In our pampered American existence, I am afraid we have forgotten what it means to be a disciple of Christ.

Your thoughts?

This particular post is geared toward eliciting feedback from those who believe that homosexuality is not blessed by God, but are uncertain how to address the issue within church governance and their own congregations. However, I am also interested in hearing from people of all perspectives on how churches with conservative sexual ethics should address personal policy within their own fellowships.

I want your opinion.  In recent discussions on Andrew Marin’s book Love Is an Orientation, as well as other posts on bridging the gap between the church and the GLBT community, there has been a recurrent question, “Yes, but how do we address the issue of homosexuality within the Church?  Marin gives guidance for engaging the gay community at large, but what about church governance?  How does this play out on a practical level?  One commenter who is a pastor wrote: “People expect us to have policies on things—Can [same-sex] couples be pictured together in photo directories? Can someone in an active [same-sex] relationship lead a small group?” Then there are the heated discussions at the denominational level. For the past year, congregations within the Presbyterian Church (USA) have been voting on whether or not to open a door to gay ordination (in April the final tally upheld the “fidelity-chastity” clause). Additionally, top scholars from Yale and the like are publishing well-written arguments for the reconciliation of homosexuality and Christianity.

What is the appropriate response to all of this?  Do we just close our eyes and sing Kumbaya in hopes that it all magically resolves on its own?  Do we scowl and stick our tongues out at those who don’t agree with us? I want to know what you think. Below are some of my own random questions and thoughts to get the discussion going:

What assumptions do we make about other Christians?

In the last post I mentioned a research project in which I interviewed gay affirming Christians with the hope of understanding how some people reconcile homosexuality and Christianity.  I quickly realized my assumptions about other people’s worldviews caused miscommunication and frustration.  I assumed other Christians viewed God and Scripture the same way I did.  But the people I spoke with had a variety of definitions for the term Christian.  When I asked one interviewee what the term meant, she indicated she had never broken any of the Ten Commandments.  Another interviewee was an avid fan of Marianne Williamson’s A Return to Love—a book that utilizes Christian terminology to describe the Eastern philosophy found in A Course In Miracles.  Yet other interviewees ascribed to Progressive Christianity, a movement that believes many paths lead to God and the Bible is not the only sacred text.  Some also agreed with Bishop John Shelby Spong’s suggestion of a non-theistic Christianity. Still other interviewees reported an evangelical understanding of the term Christian, believing that Jesus died for the sins of the world.

My point? It became apparent that the question of homosexuality was secondary to the question of how each of us conceptualizes God, Scripture, and the Christian life. Before we even engage in a conversation about homosexuality with a fellow Christian, it is helpful to understand what a person means by that term.  How do they picture God?  What role does Scripture play in guiding their life?  What is that person’s basis for ethics?  If I assume someone has the same definitions as I do, I end up talking past that person rather than truly understanding where they are coming from.

What is our motivation for telling another person our views on homosexuality?

You can tell a lot about a person’s motivation for speaking up on the issue of homosexuality by the emotion they exhibit. Are they angry?  Sad?  Happy?  Many conservatives will say they “love” gay people by “telling them the truth.”  But these same individuals often seem agitated when speaking truth.  Isn’t anger an odd way to express love?  Why are those who rail against the “gay agenda” so angry?  Is it not because they are offended?  Those who become angry in defense of their position (including those in the GLBT community) are primarily concerned with Self.  Many conservatives tout the mantra “Protect our families!”  The focus is on how one’s own community will benefit if the other camp conforms.  This typically results in efforts to force compliance by enacting laws.

In contrast, what emotion do we exhibit when our closest friends are engaged in behavior we believe is hurtful?  Doesn’t it break our hearts? Don’t we fret about their welfare? We grieve. We try to reason with them.  Rather than manhandling our friends into compliance so we don’t have to put up with their offense, we, instead, long to see transformed lives. Our focus is not on Self, but on Other. We want what is best for our friends, and we know their well-being rests on true repentance. True repentance is not simply behavioral compliance—the Pharisees excelled at that—rather it is a change of heart and mind.  This brings us to another question:

What causes us to have a change of heart?

Think about your own life experiences.  How do you react when someone yells at you?  What if somebody lectures at you without any interest in your perspective?  How do you feel if someone assumes the worst about your motives?  Clearly, none of us would be persuaded to see things differently if treated this way, and yet conservatives do this all the time when discussing homosexuality.  This is because many Christians are not concerned about the well-being of the gay community as much as they are interested in venting their irritation. We want others to conform so we don’t have to put up with their behavior—not because we are heartsick over a gay person’s well-being.

God said, “Come now, let us reason together. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow” (Isaiah 1:18). Let us reason together. Isn’t this how hearts and minds are changed?

How are we to treat other Christians we believe are unrepentant?

What do we do when we believe another Christian is engaged in sin and they are not responsive to our efforts to reason with them? Do we shun them and treat them like pariahs (not something I recommend!).  Jesus suggests, “Let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector”—that is, an unbeliever (Matthew 18:15-17).

How did Jesus treat tax collectors?

What is the purpose of shared values in community?

Some seem to believe that the Church should not enforce shared community values. We should let everyone do according to their own conscience. If God tells someone homosexuality is okay—who are we to question that? After all Christianity is not about rules and regulations, it’s about love. If we just love each other it will all work out in the end. Right? I don’t know of many groups that operate on this kind of mentality. If you show up for an AA meeting, you will be expected to support the group’s goal of sobriety. If you go to Soulforce’s online discussion forum, you will be expected to follow the rules or else get booted. This includes not sharing views that suggest homosexuality is sin. And I’m sure if you signed up for the local Rotary Club, they would have certain expectations of you as well. Virtually every group has shared community values; those who cannot agree to these values are usually limited in their ability to participate.

Community is what makes the Christian walk possible. I need to be part of a local church body that reinforces my values on traditional sexual ethics. A church cannot encourage me “day after day as long as it is called Today” if they support a position that makes it harder for me to live out my convictions. This is also why gay affirming churches exist—others want to be in a community that supports same-sex relationships. I would not be elected for leadership positions at most (if not all) Metropolitan Community Churches simply for holding the theological views I do. This doesn’t mean these churches are bigoted; rather, there is nothing inherently mean-spirited about having group values and maintaining them.

What do we expect from leaders in the church—including lay leaders?

If shared values are a natural and integral part of most communities, how are those values maintained? Is it not through leadership? Paul instructs Timothy to “set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity” (I Tim. 4:12). What happens when that is compromised? Recently, I referred to a discussion at Jesus Creed regarding an actual situation where a member of a worship team wanted to remain in the band despite his intentions to date another man. He agreed he would step down if he “crossed the line” and had sex with his boyfriend. It was perceived by some that homosexual dating, as long as intercourse does not occur, is benign. But what about the person in the pew who is struggling with homosexuality? What is he to think when he sees a member of the worship team going out on a date with his boyfriend? And what message does this send to the rest of the congregation? How does this affect the maintenance of shared community values?

What would a new model of engagement look like? How do we practice both grace and truth?

I see a lot of folk reacting to the Religious Right (including me!). Seeker sensitive churches don’t want to talk about homosexuality for fear of looking like hate-mongers and scaring away potential seekers. Younger Christians know there is something unChrist-like about the anger and self-protective attitudes of ultra-conservatives and so throw the baby out with the bath water. No one seems to know what grace and truth looks like. There aren’t many examples of it. What would it mean to speak truthfully about homosexuality, while not fixating on it, and yet not avoiding it? What would it look like to talk about sexual ethics apart from the culture war? And what would this mean for practical church governance and ministry?

This post is part of a synchroblog sponsored by New Direction. Over 50 bloggers are simultaneously posting articles on June 24^th on the topic of bridging the gap between the church and the gay community.  Participants hail from a variety of persuasions. Check out the list of other bloggers at Bridging the Gap.

I was annoyed. The local Good Times had featured a documentary-in-the-making about God, gays and the Bible. Two filmmakers, a lesbian couple, were on a mission to promote the reconciliation of Christianity and homosexuality. This is wrong, I muttered, How can anyone read the Bible and think it affirms homosexuality? Like many Christians, my first reaction to such news was judgment. Without even knowing these women, I made all kinds of assumptions about their motives. I automatically surmised that they were purposely mangling the truth. How dare they twist my sacred texts? Thus, it was a tad ironic when, several months later, I was interviewed for that very documentary, God and Gays: Bridging the Gap.

My history of being involved in lesbian relationships cultivated a deep compassion in me for the gay community at large, but I still had residual stereotypes about Christians who affirm homosexuality. These negative perceptions usually popped up involuntarily without a second thought. Yet, as I pondered the Good Times article, my irritation turned into curiosity. How do Christians reconcile homosexuality and Christianity? It was a question I couldn’t ignore. So, I set out to research the topic for a book project. After developing a lengthy survey with over 60 multiple choice questions on theological beliefs and sexual identity, I conducted taped interviews with gay affirming Christians. Some were referred to me by a local GLBT center, others by a local ex-gay ministry (participants who had left the program). Of course, on my list were Kim Clark and Luane Beck, the two filmmakers I had read about.

Kim and Luane agreed to let me interview them on one condition: that they be allowed to interview me in return. That’s how I ended up sitting in a Redwood glen with cameras rolling, grasping for words as I answered questions on the fly about faith and sexuality. During these months as the film was pieced together, I had several intriguing conversations with Kim and Luane, as well as other individuals I was interviewing. In the process, I discovered I was wrong. The gay affirming Christians I met were not on a malicious mission to deliberately distort truth and rebel against God. They were ordinary human beings—lovely human beings—who were trying to make sense of the world the best they knew how. My well-packaged answers began to fall flat.

Why didn’t God clearly spell out his will to these gay Christians in the same way he was directing me? The people I interviewed did not hate God. They were good people. Many had sincerely prayed, seeking answers from the Divine. While there were certainly things I could point to that revealed how we came to different conclusions on homosexuality, there was also an unsettling recognition that the mystery was deeper than I had imagined. During this time, I rented a film—Boys Don’t Cry—that ripped the lid off the emotions my research was beginning to stir. The movie is based on the true story of Teena Brandon, a same-sex attracted young woman who, uncomfortable in her female body, decided to live as a boy, changing her name to Brandon Teena. Teena was eventually raped and murdered at the tender age of 21 when her identity was discovered. After the movie, I tried to go about my chores, but instead found myself curled up in a ball weeping. My God, what about Brandon Teena?? Am I supposed to believe this precious human being is condemned by You in the midst of all her confusion and the violence inflicted upon her? What about all the people I am interviewing? What about Kim and Luane? The anguish I felt was unbearable. These were no longer anonymous voices whose views I could analyze in a cold, detached manner. They were real people I cared about. Since then, I’ve had many conversations with God, wrestling over the mysteries of how and why.

After God and Gays premiered, Luane and Kim created a conference to go with the film. These events included speakers and workshops designed to help people reconcile homosexuality with their faith. I participated in the first one. This experience stretched me. What was I doing co-facilitating a workshop at a pro-gay conference? I knew it was a stretch for Kim and Luane too. Even though we had formed an amicable relationship over the previous year, they knew I did not affirm homosexuality. It was an awkward dance, albeit educational. For example, I discovered just how many spiritually hungry people will show up for a gay-affirming conference on God. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Angry, defiant activists?

About a dozen people attended the workshop I co-facilitated on Recovering from Fundamentalism. We sat in a circle as I shared my story, and then I asked them to describe their spiritual journeys. Many of them had been hurt by the Church. I used the time to emphasize God’s love and grace toward us in the midst of working through challenging questions of faith and sexuality. No matter where we are at in our process, I said, the most important thing is to keep holding fast to Jesus. Afterward, a woman approached me to thank me for what I had shared. She particularly appreciated a chart I had passed out distinguishing biblical Christianity from legalistic Christianity. She said she planned to share it with her son who had abandoned his faith after a painful experience in a legalistic church.

Of course, building bridges does not mean everyone collaborates in perfect harmony and we all pretend there are no significant differences. That was particularly poignant when participating in the God and Gays conference. This was, after all, an event promoting the reconciliation of Christianity and homosexuality—something I could not do. Luane, Kim and I knew I would always be, to some extent, an “outsider.” That taught me something about bridging the gap; building bridges sometimes means respecting each other’s sacred space.

It is easy to gloss over deep issues to form a superficial bridge. It is much harder to be honest about how we really feel and yet still treat each other as human beings. There used to be a popular saying “Love is color blind.” It was a well-intended statement about valuing all races and ethnicities. The problem is how can we love people when we don’t see them? To truly love someone means I know that person. I see him or her in full color—including the differences. Sometimes this authentic love will draw us together for seasons of dialogue, and sometimes that love means moments when we step back and respect each other’s space.

A year or two after the film premiered, I had less contact with Kim and Luane. Our lives naturally went separate ways as other projects filled our time. I miss them, even though the disparate convictions we hold were and are painful at times. I saw it in Kim and Luane’s eyes, and I felt it in my gut. How can it not be painful? We are each championing a position the other believes is hurtful. We are striving to make a positive impact on people’s lives and yet disagree how to make that happen.  But, despite our differences, I learned something from Kim and Luane. I learned that the answers are less black and white than I might wish them to be. I learned that even though there are differences, Kim and Luane have many of the same values and ideals as I do. We want the same thing—for people to experience well-being and connection to God. I am grateful for the time I had with them. Taking the risk to listen—really listen—made me all the richer. And I can only hope they heard me too.

What has been your experience with bridging the gap between the church and the gay community? Take some time to ponder this post and the other synchroblog articles. What themes do you notice? How are your ideas and experiences for bridge building similar or different? Come back and share reflections on what you are reading in the synchroblog.

This post is part of a “book club” discussion series on Andrew Marin’s Love Is an Orientation: Elevating the Conversation with the Gay Community. The format below includes snippets from the book, accompanied by various questions. Feel free to add your own questions and thoughts from these chapters as well.  Chapters 1-2 are covered here.

1. In his introduction, Andrew Marin states, “I am a straight, white, conservative, Bible-believing, evangelical male. I was raised in a Christian home in a conservative suburb of Chicago and grew up in a large evangelical church. And I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered (GLBT) community.”

What kinds of attitudes have you had toward the gay community? Where did those attitudes come from? What was instrumental in shifting Marin’s perspective of GLBT people?

2. In chapter one, Marin points out that the average age a young person realizes s/he has same-gender attraction is thirteen. Many of these kids are afraid to tell anyone. Marin recalls one friend who prayed every single day for fifteen years (from age 15-30) that God would remove his attractions—to no avail. This man eventually concluded that his prayers were not answered because either 1) God did not exist 2) God condemned him to hell for having these attractions and wouldn’t listen to him. So, he gave up and immersed himself in the gay community.

What can the Church do to reach out to our youth who may have same-gender attraction? What do we say to them when their many prayers for a cure are not answered?

3. Marin lists the following perceptions GLBT people may have of evangelicals (pp. 31-32):

• How can I possibly relate to Christians in a church environment?
• Will Christians always look at me as just gay?
• Will I be able to be like everyone else in church activities and groups?
• Do they think homosexuality is a special sin?
• Do they believe I chose to be like this?
• Do they think that I’m going to hit on them?
• Do they think that I’m going to abuse their children?
• Are they scared that I’m going to infect them with an STD or HIV/AIDS?
• When will I be rejected and kicked out?

As Christians, how can we better respond to these concerns that keep many gay people from considering church? If you have same-gender attractions, do you relate to these questions? If so, what has your experience been? How would you like those in the Church to respond to you?

4. Marin suggests that Christians need to apologize to the gay community; come to the realization that we cannot grasp what it is like for those who live with same-gender attraction 24/7; be aware of the fact that the GLBT community will have a hard time trusting what Christians say due to previous negative experiences; and try to put ourselves in a gay person’s shoes. Regarding this last suggestion, he writes, “honestly try to imagine the feeling of what it is like to first realize you have same-sex attraction: the thoughts, questions and issues that all quickly arise without being able to find any definitive answers. Then try to imagine the realization that immediately follows; whether or not that person ever acts out on their same-sex attraction they are inherently cast as deviant to mainline Christianity” (p. 33).

What do you think of Marin’s suggestions?

5. In chapter 2, it is emphasized that same-sex behavior is part of a gay person’s identity. Thus, the phrase, “Love the sinner, hate the sin” is nonsensical from the GLBT cultural perspective.  Whether or not one agrees that being gay should be an identity, we should seek to understand how a gay person perceives him/herself. Marin writes, “We have no problem wrestling with apologetics for people of different ethnicities and cultures that are totally removed from ours. Christians diligently study other belief systems and incarnationally move into the neighborhoods of people with different beliefs, join their groups, attend their events . . . Christians do none of those things for the GLBT community” (p. 37).

What would it look like for the Church to engage with the GLBT community in a cross-cultural way? How can you begin to do this in your own city?

6. Marin refers to “sexuality’s infinite continuum” to describe the on-going debates on the causes of homosexuality (i.e. gay gene vs. environment). He points out that these debates block either side from actually ever communicating and understanding each other. He proposes that “it is possible to disagree and yet still peacefully listen, learn and dialogue so that something significant can happen for the kingdom” (p. 39).

What would it look like to engage in dialogue despite disagreement? What are the benefits of this approach?

7. Even though Marin acknowledges that childhood abuse may be a factor in some people entering homosexual relationships, he also states this is not true for everyone, and when Christians make this assumption, “the person who has a same-sex attraction—whether they act on it or not—is [perceived as] inherently damaged” and “automatically casts a person as deviant to mainline Christianity” (pp. 39-40).

If you are straight, do you perceive all gay people as perpetually dysfunctional due to continued same-sex attraction? If you have same-gender attraction, have you experienced others viewing you in this way?

8. Many Christians nonchalantly offer GLBT people three options: heterosexuality, celibacy or a life of sin (if one chooses homosexuality). But what if heterosexuality is unattainable? And, how many Christians really think through the implications of a lifetime of single, celibacy?

What can your church do to be more empathetic to the reality of a life of celibacy? How would you feel if you could never get married? What can you do to support someone who may be faced with that reality? How can we more sensitively respond to the GLBT community on this issue?

Since we have been talking about “bridging the gap” and engaging in conversation with those who have different viewpoints, I thought I would post this article I wrote on Sustained Dialogue. It was first published at Gifted for Leadership last year. True tolerance is not about forcing everyone to agree with our own personal opinions. We live in a world of great diversity, and we will all never agree on everything. What I love about the principles of Sustained Dialogue is that it doesn’t try to force everyone to agree. Rather it provides a framework for seeing each other as valued human beings despite our differences.

You don’t have to strain your eyes to see them—the cracks that run down racial, gender and doctrinal lines, splintering the Church into a multitude of factions. We’re good at conflict. Too good. We build our self-assured walls, oblivious to the tragedy we create by our divisions. At the root of our disunity is closed ears; we aren’t hearing each other. In his book Reconciliation Blues: A Black Evangelical’s Inside View of White Christianity, Edward Gilbreath exhorts, “As members of the body of Christ, we should be determined to hear and understand the concerns of our brothers and sisters.” That means we need to engage in conversation, and not just any conversation. We need Sustained Dialogue.

I first encountered Sustained Dialogue while serving as a moderator for a small group of Palestinian and Jewish students at the university where I work. Sustained Dialogue “focuses on transforming the relationships that cause problems, create conflict, and block change.” It is promoted by The International Institute for Sustained Dialogue (IISD), an organization founded by former U.S. diplomat Dr. Harold Saunders to bring peace to war-torn regions. The goal of Sustained Dialogue is not agreement. Unlike mediation or negotiation, the point is not consensus, but rather improved relationships. It is about developing mutual respect, shared interests and a greater appreciation of our need for one another.

Sustained Dialogue is not for wimps. It is extremely challenging and naturally evokes tremendous emotion. I watched the Palestinian and Jewish students on my campus wrestle with the tension of the Middle East conflict. They struggled to move past anger and stereotypes to see their shared humanity. It was a triumph, if only a small one, when we all sat down together at an Afghani restaurant to share a meal and ask questions like, “What do you like to do on the weekends?” and “What classes are you taking?”

Recently, I had an opportunity to engage in my own difficult and painful dialogue. I was assigned to co-teach a Bible class with “Dave” who, I soon discovered, had disturbing views on his website. Among his gems: “[The Bible indicates] that women who get in trouble are women who didn’t have a tendency to stay at home where they belong. The greater social activity outside the home that a woman has, the greater the danger she is going to end up idle and gossiping, or meeting a guy and going to bed with him.” His perspectives on women doused salt on wounds from my fundamentalist past. I was so distressed I planned to cancel the class and never speak to him again. Every instinct urged me to flee.

God knows how, but instead of fleeing, I decided to talk to Dave about his views. I wanted to understand what was behind his theology. And, I wanted him to grapple with my grievances. Neither of us changed our opposing positions. But I came to realize Dave is not the villain I projected him to be. He is a man seeking to obey God the best he knows how; he is a father who loves his daughters; he is a fellow believer, albeit flawed like me. In the process, Dave also heard me. He agreed to remove three of the most offensive items from his website, something that never would have happened if I had walked away from dialogue.

Sustained Dialogue is a powerful tool we can use in our churches, communities and ministries. The International Institute for Sustained Dialogue offers resources to assist groups through five steps:

1. Deciding to engage in dialogue
2. Meeting together to name the problems (air grievances).
3. Probing the problems—not just what they are, but why (understanding each other’s perspective).
4. Brainstorming positive scenarios (solutions)
5. Acting together to implement solutions.

As Christians, we are being “built together into a dwelling place for God.” The travesty of our divisiveness is a fractured home. This, in turn, has global implications. Jesus prayed, “May they all be one . . . so that the world may believe You have sent me.” Disagreement is inevitable, but that does not mean we can disown each other. Sustained Dialogue is a way to maintain family ties. Whether I like it or not, Dave is my brother, the son of my Father. And I am called to treat him like one.