Why does it feel like we always secretly hope, no matter how nice and accepting we are of other people, that they'll some day see the light and think like us? Yes, I suppose, on some selfish level, life would be easier if everyone thought exactly like me, but, really, if we're thinking about it, life would also kinda suck.
For one, there would be no one to tell us an idea is stupid until AFTER we've done it. Everyone would think it is a great idea and be really encouraging, right up until the point it goes horribly wrong, then they'd be all, "that was a terrible idea." Yeah, thanks. I got it.
We really need people to be different and think different. It's good for us. It's good for the world. We need to disagree. We need it. It's that important.
Now, of course, there are going to be some fundamental things that we'd like everyone to agree on - things like, "don't kill Ryan," that's a big one for me. Perhaps more generally, "don't kill people," but honestly, we don't really agree on that one anyway. The best we can hope is to be sincere in our desires, willing to change if our conscience leads us to do so, and respecting when others think differently.
I don't get this notion that my sincere beliefs should be those of other people. Yes, it's nice to have the validation when people do actually accept my reasons for belief and we do all need people who agree with us at some level for community and support, but why do we really expect everyone to agree?
This is especially troubling among Christians - who have (supposed) unity in Christ. It's not like we're coming from vastly different foundations when we disagree, we're essentially choosing different beliefs for the exact same reason.
I'll just call it out - my denomination responded to the Supreme Court ruling this week with a pretty well-worded conservative statement (as expected), explaining that its position has not changed and generally wishing good will towards all people. Great. But it ends with the line, "We pray that God will help us be examples of His truth in a world that needs to see God’s love demonstrated in word and deed more than ever."
This line could be construed just as it says - longing for truth - but earlier in the paragraph, truth was defined as a particular view of gay marriage. Now, I'm not expecting my denomination to change its stance over night (in fact, I think we ask the wrong questions and focus on the wrong things - as I've written about before), but it might be nice to be charitable and humble.
We're essentially saying, "We disagree and we hope God uses us to bring other people around to right thinking." I guess it's honest, if nothing else, which is good, but it's also sad.
I don't have a problem with what we believe (although I wish we'd talk about it better). I do have a problem with us assuming our convictions are definitive of a "Christian" of "faithful" position. It reeks of arrogance and it turns my stomach.
We also believe that we shouldn't drink alcohol. That's a Nazarene distinctive. We do it not because alcohol is inherently evil, but because we desire to be open to all people, even those who struggle with alcohol addiction or were hurt by its effects on their family, so we choose to forgo it as a means of supporting those people. Other Christians choose differently. We don't demonize them or use this veiled "truth" language to insinuate they're somehow wrong.
We just disagree.
As I said, I don't mind disagreement. It's a good thing. But we don't have to do it self-righteously. We also don't have to do it apologetically. Wouldn't the statement have looked better if instead of closing with a prayer that all people would be converted to our way of thinking we said something like, "We pray that God will help us be example of His truth in the world, that all people, ourselves included, would be converted to the Way of Christ, even if it means changing our long held beliefs."
That, to me, is the crux of real, healthy disagreement. I believe this, but I might be wrong. If I am, forgive me, but I can only do what I think is right. Let's keep talking and maybe one of us will change their mind, but if not, that's ok, too.
Freedom is the right to do what you want.
I have a history degree. There's a lot of civics involved in my education and I know the proper American definition of freedom is the right to do what I want without repercussions. It's the problem we get into as a society, when we make it easy to exercise freedoms that are generally unhelpful or downright bad. I believe there's a not-so-fine line between providing the freedom to act and making it easy. We don't have to defend freedoms that way. But, as I said, I've written about that before.
I've also written that religious freedom is something to be exercised for conscience alone - damn the consequences. If you believe something strongly enough, do it - and don't whine if you're hurt by your choice.
I'm just not sure when shunning or shaming regained traction in our culture. I know they're big other places and I've been to enough 17th century re-enactments on elementary school field trips (remember when elementary school kids got to go on field trips?) to know at some point, people in the US apparently were put into the stocks and had rotten tomatoes thrown at them (on second thought, maybe the educational value of those field trips left something to be desired). I thought, though, that we'd largely banished our shaming to the realm of privacy in this day and age.
It seems as though we're now using religious language to defend a return to public shaming? I suppose it's funny enough when it's a youtube video of some naughty child holding a sandwich board of their sins on the side of a busy intersection, but it's not so funny when you have to defend your moral choices to get a non-fat soy mocha.
The last time I checked, singling one group of people out for special treatment (of the negative variety) is called discrimination. Which is almost the opposite of freedom.
This sort of thing works out really well while it's your own moral position that's being codified. It works out decidedly worse when you become the object of such decisions. I'm not sure every person who celebrates the "right" of an employer to decide which kinds of birth control are covered for their employees would also celebrate an employers right to refuse all coverage except for spiritual healers or ban psychological coverage or refuse to pay for employees to see doctors of the opposite sex - all real and sincere religious beliefs held by employers in the good old, US of A.
The result of these targeted bills is insidious and vile. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm talking about the attempts at legal discrimination by businesses against homosexuals en masse. If you're going to allow religious objections to trump discrimination laws, please, let it be religious objections in general and not very specific ones. That would ,at least, give some semblance of creedence to the idea this is about religion.
Ultimately, I'm not entirely opposed to a more general moral allowance on business policy (obviously not one singling out a particular group). However, I think the idea of real freedom should apply. Any policy of any business should be posted in big letters on the front door - "we won't serve ________ here," so people can make up their own minds about what kinds of establishments to frequent. At least allow customers the same kind of freedom the business owners want.
In the end, though, I think most of us recognize the ignorance and overreach this kind of thing turns out to be. It might be more blatant in this current incarnation than it has been in others. I don't even know many evangelical Christians who ultimately think this is the right thing to do.
I wish more of them would say so.
We need to get out from under the idea that you'll betray your beliefs about who people should have sex with if you advocate for allowing those same people to buy flowers or get a hamburger. Shaming doesn't work. It never has. It dehumanizes people and it defines them by their actions rather than by their inherent worth as human beings. Yeah, I'd love every person's actions to fall completely in line with my understanding of proper ethics. I'd love it. And if somebody is making a rude, obnoxious, or callous display in your place of business, by all means kick them out.
But you don't get conformity by enforcing it. Shaming is the worst kind of peer pressure. We're better than that.
Freedom - real freedom - means showing as much grace as possible in all situations, and being satisfied with none in return.
I've been putting off this third installment of the Marriage, Gender series for a while (a year), mostly because I suspect everyone who reads this will be disappointed in some way. But, given the news of UMC minister Frank Schaefer recently, and a host of other similar conversations, it seems like the right time. There are at least a dozen of you to whom I promised a more in depth answer. Well, here it is:
This will not be a post with in-depth discussion of the various biblical passages addressing homosexuality. There aren't a lot of them and you can find intense dissections of all of them with varying conclusions at the drop of a hat. I find many arguments compelling, but none compelling enough to settle the matter resolutely. Like most attempts to find answers in scripture, we get more guidance than command. We have to delve the depths of conscience and context and make judgments. Scripture is not a list of rules and laws, but an authoritative narrative pointing to relationship with God. Things are not always so simple.
I have no problem believing people are born gay. Why? Because I'm not gay and I have to accept the word of those who are - honestly and openly, no matter how dubious the claim or how skeptical I might be. I have no other choice. At the same time, I have to accept the word of those who claim miraculous changes in sexual orientation, no matter how dubious the claim or how skeptical I might be. I believe that it's likely a trauma or abuse in childhood could affect someone's sexual orientation - psychological crap does crazy things to people all the time. I also think it's silly to assume every gay person was somehow abused into it.
All that being said, we need to make clear that reparative therapy - essentially attempts to undue perceived trauma or abuse with further trauma and abuse is categorically evil and should be condemned, even if it's entered into willingly. If indeed an individual believes their orientation is changable (and needs to be changed), there are healthy, therapeutic ways to approach counseling, you know, overseen by trained professionals.
The bigger question for me, especially as someone who takes the Bible seriously, is whether God intended gay people to be that way, or if there was some problem. I don't think there is anything wrong with gay people, nothing less than ideal or sub-optimal - at least not any more than any of the rest of us.
If you're looking from a purely evolutionary perspective, homosexuality is an anomaly. Evolution is driven by a desire to pass along DNA to a new generation. Breeding that produces offspring is important to that end. Homosexuality is both natural and unnatural. Natural in that it is largely genetic, unnatural in that it doesn't line up with biological determinism.
I don't believe God designs any individual. I don't think God chooses our hair color, eye color, our addictions, our immune system, or our sexual orientation. I believe God created the world in the same way I can be said to create cherries by planting a seed. I believe God set in motion various forces in the world that led to creation as we have it. More and more I believe God intends for things to be different, even counter to what might be called ideal precisely because God wants to communicate love to all creation regardless of individual merit. I wrote more about this here.
I don't think God makes us in any particularity, but that God loves all of us equally, regardless of any preconceived disability or deficiency.
As humans, some of us are naturally cautious. We were born that way. Others tend to act before they think. There may be some evolutionary advantages to both inclinations, but it seems like our society favors the former. Evolution favors the cautious - or at least it did when we were mostly prey. I'm a cautious person and I understand completely why it's better to be cautious and I can provide you any number of reasons to back that up - because I have a lot of time to think about such things while I'm not having the kind of fun the adventurous types have most of the time.
I'm not about to say, though, that either of these inclinations is anathema, unintended, inappropriate. The point of life is not to be the right way - to become cautious or to be less so - the point of life is to figure out how to live in spite of (or because of) who you are.
I recognize that people have many different definitions of what it means to live rightly in the world. I want to affirm everyone's right to figure that out and decide for themselves what it means to live rightly. I have no desire to impose my perspective on anyone else in any way. I will defend the right of any adult to make their own decisions for themselves and I believe any discrimination, public or private, based on sexual identity or orientation is a terrible tragedy. From here on out, I speak from my perspective as a Christian about how I think Christians should answer these questions.
As a Christian, my purpose is defined by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, whose message of self-giving, sacrificial, radical love shapes and informs everything I do. Because of that, I look to the history and tradition of God's people to figure out how to live. Scripture, the Bible, is the main way in which I do that.
When it comes to homosexuality, there is just one question for the Church to answer: Can people of the same sex participate in marriages that reflect God's love and faithfulness in the same way heterosexual people can?
You see, I still believe (as explained more deeply in the Marriage post) that lifelong, committed marriage is the only proper, healthy avenue for sexual expression. So the question is not "can a person act on their attraction to the opposite sex," but "can gay people get married?" The rest sort of takes care of itself.
As to marriage, yes, Genesis says a man shall be united with his wife and they shall become one flesh, but to read modern concepts of marriage into verses like this do disrespect to history.
Throughout history, many societies have had accepted, if never mentioned examples of homosexual relationships. Men would often take younger proteges as lovers. This partly developed because of the oppression of women, who were never considered equal and were (are) treated as sub-human in many places - a regrettable necessity for procreation. We must remember that marriage, for most of human history, had nothing to do with affection or love, it was designed for social stability, for making babies, and for consolidating status and power. In societies where male-male relations were the norm, usually for the elite, these were occasionally the most affectionate and loving relationships men had.
The Judeo-Christian ethic of marriage arose in counter to these societies. Scripture is pretty clear that the sexual ethics of God's people are specifically to set them apart from the societies around them. I'd argue though, as I have in the Marriage post, that primary among this counter-example was chastity and fidelity. You marry a wife and you stick with her, care for her, and turn - neither emotionally or physically - to anyone else.
Obviously the people of God weren't great at learning or keeping these values. There was a lot of polygamy and prostitution was as rife in Israel as anywhere else. But the principle remained the same - and eventually was (mostly) adopted by God's people.
In neither case was gay marriage even a matter of thought. You married for procreation, for social standing (maybe to ensure the continued subservience of women), but not for love. You married a women because you needed kids - life could not exist without offspring - they were the essential lifeblood of society.
Things are different now. There are plenty of offspring in the world. We've also vastly changed the criteria by which we choose marriage. It's almost exclusively based on affection, at least in the Western world (the only world I really know). Which is why we face such a dilemma.
Can people of the same sex participate in marriages that reflect God's love and faithfulness in the same way heterosexual people can?
Some Christians answer no and ask gay Christians to remain celibate. Others say yes, and call those gay Christians who believe marriage is part of God's call on their lives to marry with the kind of self-giving, radical love to which we (often poorly) call all people. The gay christian world has named these two responses Side B and Side A, respectively.
I recognize the importance for an organization to have such an opinion - a general guidance for members, but for individuals, I'm not sure such categories are helpful. Each person has to navigate the challenges of integrating their sexuality and their faith. People are different. We're all different. We will (and should) have different ways of working life out - hopefully with the guidance of a loving community.
Some gay Christians will seek and receive "healing," others will choose marriage to a member of the opposite sex (hopefully with the full knowledge and support of their spouse), others will choose to remain celibate, and still others will choose Christian marriage. Hopefully these choices are reached at the end of a thoughtful process of discernment and supported by the Christian communities around us - communities who challenge us to reconcile our conclusions with reason, tradition, experience, and scripture.
I believe there's a scripturally consistent defense of either answer - Side A or Side B - although I do think many of the most vocal supporters of both sides should be furthered challenged to do a better job of their defenses.
My denomination has chosen side B, at least in theory. We've affirmed that sexual orientation is not a choice (at least for the most part), but we've called gay Christians to celibacy. However, we've done a terrible job of actually living that out. There are few Churches of the Nazarene where even a celibate homosexual would be welcomed and included. I doubt many pastors would take such a person into membership and I suspect an openly gay pastor, committed to celibacy, would not find work in the denomination and would likely have their credentials challenged. Our attitude and our actions do not match up. If we're going to take the position we've taken, we need to really take it - as uncomfortable as it might make us.
Part of our difficulty comes because we've not addressed marriage and sexuality well in relationship to the call of God on our lives. I believe firmly that a Christian's commitment to God trumps everything else; there's nothing we shouldn't be willing to sacrifice if we believe it necessary to fully participate in the Kingdom of God. We've rarely included marriage as part of this teaching.
If we're adamant that God created us human, that there is no distinction between male and female (outside the biological, which is what I argued in the Gender post) - then it really doesn't matter who you're attracted to. It matters whether you're willing to give up the right to partner and marry if it serves the Kingdom of God.
I am extremely committed to the authority of my denomination. The Church of the Nazarene is the tribe that birthed me and raised me. I am committed to her core idea of holiness - that we can have the kind of relationship with God that we were created to have right here and right now - that we don't have to wait for heaven to fully be the people God has called us to be. That's what my denomination is about and I am excited to be a Nazarene.
I won't leave my denomination because of our stance on gay marriage. But I also wouldn't leave if it changed.
Quite frankly, it's really only a matter of time anyway. It might be fifty years down the road, but I think it's coming whether anyone around today likes it or not. I don't know anyone under the age of 35 who's really passionate about defending our current position. There're certainly lots of Nazarenes who agree with our stance, but I don't see (m)any who are really going to make keeping the Church of the Nazarene Side B a priority in life. I see a lot of young Nazarenes who are exceptionally passionate about changing our position. In the end, I think passion will win out.
Regardless, I'm here for the long run. I'm sticking with my denomination because I believe God is in control. I believe that the Holy Spirit of God is living and active. I believe that if someone is following Christ honestly, in communion with brother and sisters who all declare together "Jesus Christ is Lord," that God will work it out in our lives. We will receive guidance and direction and discernment and we'll figure it out together. Even if we end up some place totally different than we thought when we started.
As for me, personally - there are a lot of heterosexual couples I would not marry. I'd want to know them in a pastoral way - to know their lives as they live them and not as they present them to me in a few meetings. I'd want to know they are committed to the radical love Christ calls us to in marriage. I'd want to know they could or least wanted to live out marriage as an example of God's love for God's people. I'd need to be satisfied they'd wrestled with the call of God to give up everything - even marriage - before I'd feel comfortable marrying them.
I'll gladly pray at any wedding at which I'm asked to pray. People can always use prayer. I want to pray blessings on every wedding and every couple; marriage isn't easy and we need all the support we can get. I'd pray at a wedding I'm diametrically opposed to happening; I believe that much in prayer.
I also believe I have no right to marry a gay couple, even in protest. This could, of course, be challenged in court, I suppose, but if the denomination who gives me my credentials tells me I can't marry certain people, I'd have to forsake those credentials to do such a wedding - and thus would no longer have the credentials to do it.
Sadly, as a minister in a conservative, evangelical denomination, I've not come across many gay Christians. Our paths don't cross much. Most of the gay people I know have been so hurt by the Church they want nothing to do with Christ. For them, this is a moot issue.
I know it's a cop out, but I don't see much point in answering a hypothetical question when I don't face the real situation. I can't marry a gay couple, nor do I know any who want a Christian wedding well enough to even consider it. I'm not in a position to vote for any sort of change in my denomination and I don't expect I ever will be. I'm not even entirely sure we should be making straightforward designations at the denominational level: we marry these people and not these. I'm perfectly happy to be part of my tribe while we do the hard work of figuring things out. There's a lot to figure out and a lot I just don't know.
What I do know is that God loves everyone. Jesus Christ died to show unconditional love and forgiveness to all people. I know there is peace and joy in our future and I long for each and every person alive to experience those things here and now. I know that we're called - all of us who claim Jesus Christ as Lord - to walk together in love and grace, when we agree and when we disagree.
My denomination must live up to its words and embrace gay Christians as brothers and sisters. We all need to stop demonizing and condemning those brothers and sisters who disagree with us about the place of marriage in the life of gay Christians. Whether we agree about marriage or not - we agree about Christ - and I have faith God can work out these differences. In fact, my faith depends on it.
Most of the time these conversations leave me unbelievably frustrated - not that people aren't sincere about their beliefs or even that they're not being kind (most people have been exceedingly kind of late, a welcome change) - but because they always focus on what "should" be the definition of marriage, either legally or doctrinally.
Of course those decisions do have to be made, but I've never had a conversation with any Senator or Supreme Court Judge on the matter, quite frankly none of the people I talk to have any real say in how those things are defined. What most people do have power over is the way they define and participate in their own relationships.
I'd love to just publicly admit that we're not going to agree on who should be married (if you've never been to a wedding that you thought was a mistake, more power to you), and move on to conversations about how marriages should work.
I understand that the position of some will be, "marriages should work the way that works best for the couple." That is a fine position to take - although it's awfully individualistic for my taste. I don't think an open marriage is a healthy one, even if it "works" for the parties involved.
I'm going to draw some lines. Of course, people do still get to make up their own minds about things. I'd hope all of us can at least consider other ideas with an open mind.
The thing I'd love to discuss with couples is how dominance and submission play a role in the relationship. This is especially intriguing to me in homosexual relationships because of the stereotype that one partner must be "the man," even if both or neither are men. The same issues arise in heterosexual relationships, but that's been so ingrained in culture that we hardly notice.
Perhaps the real issue is our understanding of dominance as a masculine trait. That's been the course of human history for, well, all of it. Men are in charge and women follow. The feminist and equal rights movements have done a lot to make this less of a given, but for the most part, they've really only made it acceptable for women to be dominant and to assume those traditionally masculine traits.
It's as if we take power as relational currency for granted. I don't think it "should" work that way. I take this position because of my faith and my understanding of scripture. I know Christianity, for a long time, reinforced this male-dominated position - but the Church was wrong.
From the beginning God designed people, human beings, specifically married couples, to be complementary powers - supporting and encouraging each other, not fighting for "hand." Paul reinforces this in the New Testament with his calls to mutual submission in marriage.
We are to love and serve each other - not control by manipulation or power. That's good advice for all our relationships, but I think it's essential to getting marriage right. The need to express, emptiness of lacking, or struggle to gain, power in relationships are responsible for a whole lot of the issues that mess things up.
I speak mostly from experience here - and while my marriage is far from perfect, one of the things I think we get right often is our ability to let the other lead in areas of strength. My wife makes decisions in some areas, I in others. I'll freely admit (and she'll freely agree) that I make them too often, but we're working on it.
The issue of dominance and submission were marriage issues long before gay marriage became an acceptable topic for public discourse. However, I'm intrigued by the way this plays out in relationship contains a non-traditional gender mix.
I'll freely admit I know little to nothing - I apologize if any of this has been insensitive or offensive - it's only because of ignorance. Yet these are the types of conversations that just don't get had. It's partly due to the personal nature involved, but also because the gateway conversation, the one about who should be in marriages, always blocks the conversation about how they actually work.
I have some general beliefs about marriage, but for the most part, I don't care much about how one "defines" marriage in terms of make-up. I do care quite a lot about individual relationships and the way they help and harm individuals and stifle or further the work of God in the world.
I believe God is at work drawing all people closer to God. I suspect the path for many (perhaps even for myself) will be uncomfortable to witness, might challenge my assumptions and beliefs. I also believe, though, that God is bigger and more capable than those challenges; they are not something to fear. I think we'd all be surprised at the things that could happen in our lives if we'd converse deeply and just stop blocking the door.
There's been a bit of hubbub surrounding a proposed LGBTQ club at Point Loma Nazarene University. As an ordained Nazarene minister, a fifth generation member and a graduate of two Nazarene institutions of higher learning, this has been an interesting story to follow.
The group was founded in 2009 by a student leader who used an invitation for dialogue to challenge and undermine the school. They got burned and it's not difficult to see how the administration could be leery of the same group, albeit under different leadership, seeking a similar platform.
With the back story (and my lack of knowledge beyond what's been made public), I have to applaud the mission statement this group submitted:
We are aware that LGBT students are a suffering population on the campus of Point Loma Nazarene University (PLNU), and we have realized that the common exclusiveness of the Christian community can overlook the spiritual and interpersonal needs of LGBT community. Through entering this place, we hope LGBT students at PLNU can share their neglected stories, lingering questions, and increasing trials with their Christian comrades, and together, we can learn what it means to practice listening to and dignifying your political or theological enemy and actively learning to live and love in real-time. We hope to seek reconciliation not based on a change of belief system but rather from a commitment to live in relationship with opposing worldviews while seeking to understand and dignify the humanity of the “other.”
This is a pretty powerful statement of charity and reconciliation, one that dovetails pretty well with what I've often used as an ethical motivation - we have to live together. If we believe in a future of peace where the world is as it's intended to be, then we're all going to get along. We might as well start now.
I don't think this means we have to agree. I think things work better when we come to different conclusions about things. I think things work poorly when we refuse to listen and learn from one another. I happen to believe that God's Holy Spirit is at work in the world, speaking and shaping us, even if we don't know it.
I am grateful for a school (Eastern Nazarene College) that created a supportive Christian community without dictating belief. I struggled mightily with issues of faith, belief, and ethics during my college years. I am convinced that were those struggles not undertaken within the context of a Christian community, I would not be a Christian today.
I said, did, and believed a lot of things that I disagree with today - but I did so in the midst of a community drenched in a commitment to God's prevenient grace. My peers and professors, for the most part, trusted that sincere questions of faith would be answered. People prayed for me and with me.
I didn't have a lot of direct conversations with people about faith - but I have a strong group of friends and a wonderful chaplain who were merely present and provided the kind of atmosphere necessary for me and the Holy Spirit to work things out.
Mike Schutz was the chaplain most of my time at ENC, but I don't recall having very many interactions with him during those four years. I do count his influence upon my life as extremely great - mostly because of the spiritual atmosphere he fostered and the space it provided me to grow without pressure.
I'm not sure Point Loma needs a group like this - I'm not really in a position to have an opinion one way or another - I do think the conversation suggested by the mission statement is a necessity. Conversations on faith and sexuality will take place, formally or informally. I think a Christian college does a great disservice to its mission and purpose by ignoring them or limiting them.
I think there's still some perception that we send our kids to a Christian school to protect them from the dangers of the world. Those dangers are just as real at a Nazarene school as they are anywhere else. We shouldn't be fueling this idea that our schools are bastions of purity. They're colleges with a specific mission to serve God and help young people learn to think critically. Refusing a group like this, at least from my perspective, fails to represent both Christian love and our confidence that God is bigger than theological differences. It makes us look scared - and we should be exhibiting a perfect love that casts out all fear.
If we are convinced of the Truth of Jesus Christ, the sufficiency of atonement, the grace of God and the work of the Holy Spirit, we don't have anything to fear from honest (and by that I mean openness and a willingness to be affected by the other) dialogue.
We're going to lose a whole generation of young people in the Church of the Nazarene, not because of our positions or doctrines, but because we seem unwilling to allow a new generation to contribute to our understanding and actually participate.
I have said time and again that our position, at least the position officially outlined, is perfectly defensible and a responsible interpretation of scripture. I think there are reasonable and defensible positions on both "sides" of the debate (just as I think there are unreasonable and indefensible positions on both "sides"). If people who disagree (meaning both sides) are willing to have honest discussions, there is no reason why there can't be a building of respect, even if the end result continues to be disagreement.
Ultimately, I do think the problem is one of fear. We're afraid that people who accept even committed, monogamous homosexual relationships (marriages where denominations allow) might end up in hell - and if we're party to a discussion where even one person changes their mind from our position to the other, that we could be responsible for their eternal damnation.
I don't think that's an irrational fear at all.
I disagree with that line of thinking in a number of ways, certainly, but it does make sense to me. I can see were any kind of open engagement would be difficult to swallow.
I welcome this kind of dialogue because I don't share that fear - and what's more I see every day more and more young people I care about who are questioning faith altogether because of the fear inherent in that mindset. I welcome this kind of dialogue because I believe in hell - that it is full of selfishness and anger and fear all of which lead to pain - and that we experience hell when we allow any of those things to control our lives.
I cast no aspersions on anyone but myself here. I don't want this to sound like an attack. I am merely trying to illustrate the journey I've taken.
I faced down the fear I outlined above - what if I get swayed from the right path, what if I inadvertently sway others to their detriment? I've wallowed in that fear often. In the end, I had to make a choice not to let that fear or any fear - even a well-intentioned fear, hold me captive.
I believe God is in control and that God is big enough and smart enough to handle any problem we might create, but I have to move forward boldly without fear and in love.
Finally, (and I'm sorry this post is so long, but I've taken more than a month off, so you get what you get) I've been processing this alongside an investigation into why this kind of dialogue - not just about homosexuality and faith, but about anything - appears dangerous to many. I wonder if there isn't a bit of a modern-postmodern disconnect at work.
I do think the generation emerging is more comfortable with disagreements if relationship is strong - there's sort of an idea that if I can be confident you're earnestly seeking God, I can trust the Holy Spirit to work things out. It doesn't work so well for building and maintaining institutions, but then again the generation emerging doesn't care much about that either. I do think Nazarene higher education is as best placed to tackle this problem as anyone else. I have hope.
I'm not sure exactly what the solution is - beyond grace and love - but I do think it says something about the way we process and dialogue. I've been taught and value the idea that you enter every conversation willing to be changed or it isn't a real conversation. I want to hear how others have answered tough questions differently than I answered them. I want to share ideas or perspectives someone else might have missed or not considered and I want a light shined on my blind spots as well.
I'm excited about the possibilities that lay beyond the comfort and security of my decided opinions. I'm excited about people who wish to engage diversity of all kinds beyond our own labels and definitions, united solely in Jesus Christ.
Yes, the "other side" might be lying. They might not be willing to commit to the same honesty. They might be up to dirty tricks and sneaky schemes - maybe. I am willing to get burned a thousand times rather than be false myself.
*Big thanks to the community at Naznet for helping me formulate these thoughts - much of this post is adapted from my comments there.
As I've watched the streams of vitriol and defiance cruise by on twitter and facebook today, I've been thinking about how this whole Chik-fil-a thing is playing out.
A comment on my last post about the issue got me thinking. KaylaKaze wrote
No one (well, now one worth listening to) is up in arms about Cathy's opinion. What they're upset about is they financially support hate groups. They're free to have whatever opinions they want, even if they think the KKK is great and Hitler was misunderstood. When they start ACTING on those beliefs and giving money to actively hurt people is when it becomes an issue.
What she's talking about is that the Southern Poverty Law Center has declared the Family Research Council a hate group (like the KKK or the Aryan Nation) because they have repeatedly (in print and on their website) tried to link homosexuality with terrorism and pedophilia. The charitable foundation funded by Chik-fil-a once gave the Family Research Council $1,000.
First of all, I don't think Kayla and I travel in the same circles. There's a lot of people I know and love who are upset about Cathy's opinion - but most importantly I realized that people I know on both "sides" of this issue are completely talking past one another.
Those people I know and love who are swamping Chik-fil-a restaurants around the country and proudly posting their waffle fry pictures are purportedly doing so to defend "href="http://onemorethingblog.blogspot.com/2012/06/religious-freedom.html">religious freedom" and freedom of speech and, I guess, taking a public stand on how they think the country should define marriage. They're not focused on hate speech or hate groups and likely haven't even heard the argument behind Kayla's comment.
As I said before, they're defending a brand - their brand of political ideology currently represented by Chik-fil-a. Most of the Chik-fil-a supporters I know would never intentional flaunt something as serious as hate speech or hate groups in the face of anyone, no matter their opinion on homosexuals or gay marriage. They're not insidious villains.
At the same time, I know a lot of people who would never accept the characterization of the Family Research Council as a hate group, would never consider the Southern Poverty Law Center as an authority to name a ham sandwich, and would at least not directly challenge connections between homosexuals and pedophiles. Basically, none of the rationale expressed would even be considered by most of the intended audience. The only solution is making friends and allowing people to make up their own mind through experience.
This doesn't really change my initial argument - people are substituting chicken sandwiches for relationships. People don't trust each other because they're defining themselves and everyone else by what they buy, use, wear, eat, consume. Only your own actions represent you, not your consumption. Eating or not eating at Chik-fil-a doesn't represent your beliefs on gay marriage. As much as you want it to, it just doesn't.
Here's the deal:
LGBT friends - those at Chik-fil-a today don't care about your life or your relationships. Yes, maybe in some existential/salvific sense - they don't really want you to end up in hell (which is at least well meaning). But they don't care who you're with or what you do, not really. What they believe, for some reason, is that the government should be an arbiter or Christian morality. Granted, they generally want this only as it applies to homosexuals and fetuses and less so as it applies to war, life, death, taxes, interdependence, generosity, the environment and national identity, but it's not really about you. It's about power and control and how terribly frightened we are when things seem to be changing and we find ourselves on the "losing" end.
Conservative Christian friends - those people attacking your beloved Chikin restaurant, they don't care about you or your religion. Sure, everyone would like to be accepted and no one really enjoys people disapproving of something so central to one's identity. But they're not out to destroy religion or make your church, or its doctrines, illegal. What they want is to be accepted by society. Remember, these are people who spent large portions of life being told they were broken or deficient or somehow lesser human beings than the rest of us. You have to ask yourself, who are you protecting and at what cost? Marriage, in the government's eyes, is essentially a contract between two consenting adults to share property, receive benefits, and file joint tax returns. We've had "no fault" divorce for more than 50 years. What's in any way Christian about marriage in our society?
If it was up to me, the government would just get out of the marriage business altogether. Call it a Civil Union, call it a legal partnership, call it a Taco Grande - just don't call it marriage.
Marriages would be reserved for religious institutions, who they could discriminate in any way their conscious demands or allows (presuming they stick to legal requirements for age and consent). As a Christian minister, I'd welcome the added ability to understand marriage in light of Christ without having a watered down civil definition clouding people's judgment.
While we're at it, if it were up to me, Chik-fil-a would serve only naturally fed, free range, hormone free chicken (as God intended) and it would cost five cents per sandwich.
In short: listen more, talk less, prioritize relationships, freely give the benefit of the doubt, and don't leave your political statements to fast food chains. Also, if someone tells you to be scared of something, don't listen - they are only tryingto manipulate you.
Dan Cathy, owner of Chik-fil-a, made some comments about his support (and the financial support of his company's charitable foundation) for "the biblical definition of the family unit." A lot of this money goes to supporting strong nuclear families; some of it goes to prevent or defeat gay marriage initiatives around the country and a small amount of it goes to mis-information campaigns that attempt to make people scared of homosexuals.
Within hours the twitterverse was up in arms. I even saw the Chik-fil-a cows holding "God hates fags" signs instead of their typical slogan. On the other hand, there were lots of supporters reminding everyone that Chik-fil-a doesn't discriminate, but serves everyone - that Cathy was sharing personal views, not those of the company.
In either case, what we had, incredibly quickly, was people lining up behind a brand. Either you were a chik-fil-a hater, or a chik-fil-a lover. Your opinion on a fast-food chicken chain became determinant of your support or opposition to gay marriage.
If that's not out-of-whack identity, I don't know what is.
On the one hand, Chik-fil-a has always been an unabashedly conservative evangelical organization. They play Jesus music in the stores and close on Sundays. If anyone was surprised by this announcement, shame on them for being so utterly clueless to reality. There's also the little matter of connecting Dan Cathy's comments to Fred Phelps; there's a bit of a logical jump required.
On the other hand, well, why wouldn't people be upset that a company they love doesn't agree with them on a major cultural and political issue? After all, as Michael Jordan famously said while refusing to endorse a political candidate, "Republicans buy shoes, too." Apparently, Democrats buy chicken sandwiches - although very few. Latest projections show Chik-fil-a may lose about 2% of its business when all is said and done. (And we all know Americans are notoriously lazy - how many principled boycotters will cave when they're hungry and it's convenient?)
No one would be on Chik-fil-a's side if the comments were negative towards interracial marriage and positive towards the KKK. Whether you agree with the analogy or not, it's exactly the way a lot of people view the issue. You're surprised they're upset?
In the end, though, it's a chicken sandwich. It has nothing to do with Christian values or gay rights. We just live in a culture so obsessed by defining ourselves through what we consume that we're illogically and outrageously livid when one of "our" brands doesn't represent us the way we thought they did.
I wonder if this isn't part of the problem Christians face in theological and political discourse. If I define myself as a Christian (or an American - too often analogous in evangelical circles), but other people who claim the same brand disagree with me - then how to people know who I am? I don't want to be associated with those fundamentalists/heretics/communists/fascists over there. I must defeat them, convert them, or eliminate them and reclaim my brand!
Ed Helms was gobsmacked to discover that his favorite chicken joint didn't agree with his politics.
Only in America is this an existential crisis.
Mike Huckabee wants those who agree with Dan Cathy's political philosophy to eat at Chik-fil-a on August 1st. There's some implication that this action proves your loyalty to the conservative company line on gay marriage.
Guess what? It doesn't.
Eating at Chik-fil-a says nothing about you or your beliefs - not any more than shopping at the mall is an act of patriotism.
It means you like your chicken sandwich to come with a pickle.
If you want to make a statement about marriage: spend your life faithfully and selflessly devoted to one person.
The simple answer is that God made all of us one way and expects us to act in another. We're all bent towards selfish, self-destructive tendencies in the name of immediate gratification and, at times, self-preservation. Everything from overeating to an almost constant need for sexual contact to a kill or be killed instinct in situations where our safety is jeopardized. We are ingrained with instinctive, natural responses that fly in the face of Christian morality.
Each and every one of us has to deal with the fact that "God made us one way and expects us to act differently."
But I'd like to posit the notion that God doesn't "make" us the way we are; God doesn't "make" people gay. Now I'm not going to argue that orientation is a choice. I don't doubt that a very few people might choose same sex relationships based on some severe trauma or other factors unrelated to orientation, but I don't question that people are born with a specific orientation. In fact, even my own, quite conservative denomination, seems to tacitly acknowledge that lots of people have an intrinsic orientation that is well beyond their control.
The question is not whether people are born with a homosexual orientation, but whether God made them that way.
You might respond, "God made everything," which is technically true, but I hope we're beyond the idea that God made things appear like Barbara Eden. God uses lots of complex systems to create and animate the world in which we live. The more we discover about this world, the more awed we become in its complexity and God's majesty within.
I believe quite strongly that God made a good creation, but I also believe God made a creation that was meant to be united to God, a creation that suffers when it acts counter to God's design, even if those actions are instinctive, inborn, and entirely natural. The point being that we discover the true beauty in self-denial, in thinking of others before ourselves. It's entirely counter intuitive, but, for me at least, based on my experience, seems to explain a lot.
Our best guess at why and how we've arrived at this point in history is the theory of evolution. Over time species have evolved into greater complexity through a natural selection of traits most fit for reproduction. Evolution is that drive for self-preservation deep within us. It is entirely natural, even as it runs counter to God's plan. For a while, I chalked up evolutionary outcomes contrary to God's purposes to the overall effects of sin in the world. Humanity, as a whole, corrupted itself over time, leading to the imperfections each of us possess. Of course this doesn't explain similar abnormalities in other species and evident long before humans showed up.
At this point, I don't really have an answer, but I'm playing with the idea that God's relationship to creation is even more complex that we could ever imagine. The explanations are beyond me, but I do believe we exist with a bent towards selfishness, but will find fulfillment only in denying that drive and committing completely to selfless living.
So, in a very real sense, we each have been "created" with drives and predispositions to things that are not part of God's plan for life.
Some of these predispositions are more obvious than others - dwarfism, albinism, homosexual orientation - all groups of people subject to derision and persecution over the course of human history, for things over which they had no control. It seems like much of the struggle for gay rights has simply been getting society to acknowledge "it's ok for me to be this way." Rolling Stone published an article about Peter Dinklage a few weeks ago, dealing with his struggle to be known as a person, not a little person.
This path has been tread (and continues to be) by people with different levels of skin pigmentation. We're working through this process for addicts and those with mental imbalances. Each of these traits that were likely inborn.
So often we attempt to apply a morality to such inborn traits, when in reality morality can only be ascribed to actions. This struggle is detrimental to everyone, but especially painful for homosexuals who end up hating themselves for nothing more than existing. It takes a monumental effort just to put everyone on the same footing before we can even get to ethics - a judgment of actions, which is really where people get hung up. Ethics and our understanding of how people act on their homosexual orientation is really where the drama occurs.
That depends much more on your understanding of God, humanity, life, and your place in the world than it does about your sexual orientation or the way God "made" you.
I was inspired this week by a more than intriguing article from a gay Mormon, who also happens to be happily married to a woman, has three kids, and just celebrated his tenth anniversary.
So often it seems like homosexuality and Christianity converge in one of two ways: either homosexuality is condemned and the one with same-sex attraction must either be healed or be celibate, or homosexuality is embraced as part of the human condition with gay and lesbian brothers and sisters incorporated into the life of the Church.
Most often the black and white morality of the first choice is panned as unloving, old-fashioned, and insensitive. It usually is. Less often do we say the same about the black and white morality of the second. The article above brings light to many people who embrace same-sex relationships as the natural expression of one's homosexuality and condemn all other life patterns as denial or substandard.
It has never struck me before how similar these reactions are in nature. Same sex relationships must either be universally right or universally wrong; there's no in between, at least in the public rhetoric.
I thought people were people. I thought we were unique individuals with subtle, but important differences from one another. How did we get to a place where everyone has to fit into tiny little boxes?
I wonder if it doesn't have something to do with relationship. We want people to be enough like us that we don't really have to get to know them, we can just relate to them. We want to define each other: black, white, hispanic, gay, straight, intellectual, blue-collar, christian, muslim, atheist, hipster, fan boy, guido - whatever.
Because if we put each other into these boxes, then we can skip some difficult, awkward, uncomfortable steps in the relationship. We can avoid really getting to know each other. We simply relate based on shared interests or stereotypes and never have to dig deep, get vulnerable, or make mistakes.
When people have the same background, history, upbringing as me, but make different choices in life... well, it can make me think about my own choices. Why am I where I am? Where am I headed? Who am I? What defines me? It can be uncomfortable, especially if we just haven't considered a certain position or we haven't had to.
There are strong, committed Christians who claim real "healing" from homosexuality. Others, like the guy in the article above, decided to choose faith over attraction. Still others have decided celibacy is the best way to live out their faith given their orientation. Still other, strong, committed Christians have chosen to enter lifelong, committed, monogamous relationships with people of the same sex.
We like to call BS.
Some of us want to say there's no possible way a gay person can be "healed" of something so intrinsic to their identity. It's a ruse, a sham, a lie. Others of us want to say that practicing gay Christians are just lying to themselves. They've compromised their logic, faith and reason as a way to assuage their guilt. We treat those options "in the middle" of the spectrum with some level of derision and grudging acceptance given our particular point of view.
For me (I won't pretend to include the rest of you) I find it easier to judge people I don't know. Why? Because people I don't know fit much better into boxes than people I know. Because people I don't know can't be hurt my words or my actions; they're nameless and faceless to me.
I wanted to say earlier than I know gay Christians who have chosen each of the paths I outlined above, but quite honestly, almost every gay person I know has pretty much rejected the Church because the Church can't seem to get past the need to find a proper box for them. I grieve that most of my gay friends and relatives don't even get a chance to wrestle with scripture, reason, tradition, and experience when it concerns the convergence of their faith and orientation - they don't get a chance because they're robbed of the faith community, the relationships that are so important to making any decision about life and identity.
What does it mean that there is no slave nor free, Jew nor Greek, male nor female (and with credit to Peter Rollins) no democrat nor republican, american nor iraqi, gay nor straight, christian nor atheist...
Do we call people to Christ or do we call them to the box we name Christianity that is really just our own comfortable decisions projected as the norm?
This isn't about gay or straight - that's just currently the hardest box to break.
