Rethinking the "Christian" Approach to the Gay Community

I've been wrestling with a lot of thoughts as of late. While I've been in an "unchurched" state for some time, I have not been spiritually dormant. Far from it. I have been, on the other hand, trying to silence the noise of people's opinions and the Madison Avenue Jesus to truly understand what God wants and how He would have me react to the world around me.

Through the years, I have seen casualties of the damage of the traditional approach. Suicide, alcohol and drug dependence, and an overwhelming sense of despair seem almost ubiquitous among the Bible Belt GLBT community. And I am reminded that SATAN comes to kill, steal, and destroy, not Jesus, and that if this is the result of the church's approach to the GLBT community, the church's approach cannot be considered Christian.

Like Paul, my history could mark me as the Pharisee of all Pharisees. I accepted Christ at 18, and almost immediately found myself in a conservative Baptist Bible college. I know the arguments of the apologetics crowd, and I can find doctrinal flaws in the practices of almost every denomination.

I'm not saying this to brag; I'm saying this to establish perspective. The argument is that we are saved by grace, through faith, and this argument is used repeatedly to insist that strict adherence to the letter of Biblical law is not necessary. However, it is used to rationalize one's own failings, and never to excuse the failings of others. Others are held to a higher standard. I'm thinking this is why Jesus instructed us to worry about the log in our eye before the mote in someone else's.

To the GLBT community I owe a deep and heartfelt apology. Not for my actions, but for my inactions. Not for my words, but for my silence. As Elie Wiesel once stated:

“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe.”

I do not know where I stand on the nature vs. nurture debate on homosexuality. Where I stand, however, is immaterial compared to where I MUST stand as a Christian in dealing with those who daily live the hurt of those who shun them, who set them aside and hurt them for their lifestyle. And I will also state (without delving too deeply into the sidebar) that even if nurture decides one's sexual orientation, there are a good number of things encoded into someone's being that can't simply be done away with it. It's a deeper debate than I can delve into fairly in this blog.

But what I AM here to discuss is my conviction on how I should respond to the GLBT community. And that is simply the same way I should respond to any other person on the planet: in love. For me to speak on their spiritual walk is as insensitive and ill mannered as for them to speak on mine.

This does not mean I EMBRACE the GLBT lifestyle, but, truthfully, not even the most hardcore activist I have encountered has asked that I embrace it. They have only asked that I accept them as they are, and that is a fair request. I do nothing to advance the cause of Christ if I judge, treat someone harshly or with hate. Hate is not the hallmark of a Christian, period.

Going forward, I have decided that ministry is my primary focus. Not a pulpit; I do not desire a pulpit, nor would I accept one if offered. What God has called me to is distinctly different, and while the road ahead is scary, I've long been certain of my purpose; just not certain of the path to get there.

Many in the church will pray for me, and I welcome that. But I ask that your prayers not be for me to "repent" of this statement: I am fully certain that the above is the response to which God has called me. I ask that your prayers instead be directed to God's blessing on my life and on my calling. For it is not our own will we should seek, but God's ... wherever that path should lead.

The Christian singer Rich Mullins was known for the admonition he often wrote for his fans to "be God's" (note the use of the possessive). That is my aim, my goal, my only purpose. But I cannot be God's and harbor hate in my heart.

God bless each and every one of you.

The Day I Truly Understood the GLBT Community

As a Christian, there are moral issues I have a hard time wrapping my head around. How exactly I felt about the GLBT community is one of those. I admit, issues like morality are important to me, and I truly believe that if you have a close friend who is headed in a wrong moral direction, it's not wrong or unloving to speak out to them on that issue. But there are Biblical standards, and that issue, at least, is tangential to this post.

However, there was a day not long ago that I had what I would call an epiphany. When I didn't just empathize with GLBT friends, but UNDERSTOOD their position in a dramatic and lifechanging way.

A friend who I know genuinely has my best interests at heart sent me a message about my bull in a china shop approach to things. The not so subtle suggestion was that if I toned things down, I might achieve greater traction (I've heard other people advance that belief since, but this was lovingly and carefully presented, and I have no doubts as to the sincerity of the sender).

But there's a side of that that he didn't know: I had spent years of my life trying to change who I was. I've long recognized that I am a horribly misunderstood individual, and desired to change that, to make that happen. But the change never came, and so after years of prayer and contemplation, I surmised that, much like Paul's thorn in the flesh, it was there for a reason.

It was a part of who I am; a part of the big picture, a part of what makes me who I am. And something that God, in His wisdom, has decided to leave me with. And so it is in my best interest, I realized, to learn in what ways this trait could work to make me a better, a stronger person.

And that's when the light came on. I know people who have told stories of how they have prayed not to be homosexual, how their parents have prayed for them, how they worked diligently to change who they were. And I know too many stories that ended with a crudely tied noose, a bottle of pills, or a gun. Stories that ended with the final and complete despair of these people who simply wanted to be understood.

That is never right, and that is not an end that anyone deserves. As Christians, we're called to love, not to judge, and to be light in the world. And when someone is in a dark place and we drive them to an even darker place, we cannot call that love in any language.

There's already enough pain in the world without adding to it. And if we're going to mince words about the finer points of Levitical law, we have a lot of areas to cover before we even BEGIN to address homosexuality. And I decided long ago that I had no call to stand in the place of the Holy Spirit and convict someone, because there's a lot of dirty laundry I need to sort out first.

But it was then, at that moment, that I could say that I truly UNDERSTOOD. And hopefully, maybe, in sharing this, someone else out there can understand.

Failure

It's time for me to admit the inevitable: I am a failure.

A complete and utter failure.

These aren't the words of depression talking, so don't advise me to seek professional help. I've heard these words from just about everyone around me. And the comfort and solace I hoped I would find in the church, in Christ, I have never found.

I can't fit in to the mold of society. I've tried; GOD how I've tried. When people told me I needed a degree, I got the degree. When people told me I needed to become this, become that, I BECAME this, I BECAME that. I tried to be everything people wanted me to be in order to meet their standards, their rules for "fitting in".

I believe in moral standards for my children; the prevailing opinion is that I am the one in the wrong. No limits, no curfews, no rules; it's not just the way the world lives anymore, it's the way the church lives as well. Or, at least the way the church in this area expects me to live.

I can't do it. I don't fit in in LIFE, not just in church.

And again, please do NOT tell me it's depression. It's not. It's the startling realization that no matter how much I try, there is virtually NO support. And the majority of friends I have made expect me to conform to their image of what a friend is. And my family expects me to conform to their image of what a family member is; an image shaped on what they SEE of their friends' families, not the reality.

I've prayed, and to be honest, my most fervent, most sincere prayer is that God would see fit to release me from this world. I would never harm others or myself, but I genuinely, fervently hope that God is merciful and my remaining time on this earth is short.

And it's not depression; I have had a good number of people tell me just how terrible of a person I am; I have had more than ample confirmation of the fact that I am just a wretched cur.

But those people don't understand unconditional love. The only love, the only comfort I have found in these dark times is in Christ. And this is why I am increasingly disliking the church. There's not a very widespread attempt at unconditional love among its ranks.

I posted one time earlier that if you can't love ME, you haven't discovered what love is, and I stand by it. I am a wholly unlovable person according to those who genuinely have right to say they care the most about me, but I am nonetheless a child of God.

And please don't tell me it's depression. I am of VERY sound mind as I write this, and I have never felt comfortable with the world. It's just reaching the point where I can't keep it in any longer.

I don't need pithy sayings or feel good books. What I NEED is to live in a place where I am not constantly judged; not seen as a monster (and I am seen as just that).

The reason I care about the homeless is because I understand them. If it weren't for my children, who I love deeply and desire to have know a father, I would be among their ranks. There are some of us in society that truly, genuinely are misfits.

My desire now is to find them...and to offer them the ONLY solace I have found in this world.

I pray that one day the church will awaken to just how cruelly, how viciously it has attacked the world, but I don't see that happening. But as I withdraw, as I close out from the world, understand how desperately I tried to be a part of it.

Only to fail.

Ryan J. Bell's "year without God"

I read with interest the Hffington Post article by Ryan J. Bell detailing his determination to live "A Year Without God". You can read the article here:

I find Bell's faith journey fascinating, and in some way reminiscent of my own. It's an indicator, in my mind, that God is working a powerful movement within the hearts of His people. The "church", of course, often condemns it as heresy, but this is a church that has historically burned and hanged a lot of heretics.

In light of my own posts, I find it compelling to see others on a similar faith journey. Below is a sermon that was preached shortly before he was fired by the Seventh Day Adventist Church he had pastored:

Reluctantly Ecumenical

Early on as a Christian, I was nurtured in a fairly fundamental Baptist church. It's not something I regret at all; over the years this has given me a fairly solid understanding of Scripture even if my daily Bible reading aren't what they should be, or even what they could be.

But I've learned a lot over the years that I can only chalk up to wisdom, to God putting the proper agents of grace in my path to teach me and guide me. And what I've learned has led me to a position many of my early instructors would consider heretical, and cuts to the core of why I call myself a "misfit Christian".

See, I've seen things. I've seen machines in the workplace that weren't maintained to OSHA standards, and whose very operation daily risked the lives of everyone who worked around them. I've seen families left out in the cold by an unfeeling bureaucracy and a church that largely believes its duty is to "its own" and not to EVERYONE around it. I've seen the heresies of the prosperity Gospel and dominionism creep into the church, as well as a few early church heresies, such as the teachings of the Judahizers. And I've seen a church that cherry picks its theology to its own convenience, carefully crafting God in their own image.

And through all of this, I've seen a simple religion; a religion that doesn't operate within churchhouse walls, a religion of less than perfect people who know they are less than perfect and who feel their guiding purpose is not perfect theology but to love without limit and care unconditionally. A church of healers, of helpers, of people who feel that the short span of their lives can make a substantial difference.

The problem with the latter church is that not all of its agents consider themselves "Christian".

Several years ago, I had a vision of a ministry of "Aggressive Servitude". Of finding people where they are, of encouraging, uplifting them daily (not just on holidays), of discipleship, of fellowship and of love. The specific vision I had involved things like pressing onesself into service to meet very specific needs that make a substantial difference.

For over ten years I have tried to use this vision within the churches in my area with complete futility. I've increasingly come to believe that it was not the devil turning me back on this one, but God, because this vision should be larger than the confines of the Laodicean church that dominates the area landscape.

One of my core doctrines over the last fifteen years has been what I call "the paradox of the grace only Christian". That is, most of the churches I have attended have considered themselves to be saved "by grace, through faith". They believe that the grace of God covers their own imperfections. Yet they increasingly label other doctrines and other denominations "cults" because they don't hold a perfect theology. In other words, the grace of God covers their own imperfection but not that of others.

If anything is the heresy, it would be this. All of us have flawed theologies. We cannot be expected to understand every bit of theology when much greater thinkers than us have been stymied by some of the same questions. And so we really should press forward trying to figure out the best ways to manifest our faith.

I am learning to take care of the big things; to let the little things work themselves out. And I am equally learning that the bigger things consist largely of: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control (the fruit of the Spirit). And that judgment is more in line with the fruits of the flesh.

To the critic who thinks I myself am judging: I am not. I am speaking against a doctrine, against a movement that I see in the church, not against an individual or group of individuals. Leaving congregations for me is not about criticizing that body of believers, but rather about understanding that what God has called me to transcends that body. It's not a greater ministry, it's just MY ministry.

And so in my path, I have become reluctantly ecumenical because I believe that I cannot effectively minister and put the label that an individual places on their faith above the need to serve where I am at. I know there will be people who do not understand, who do not agree, but that's their burden, not mine.