The Assemblies of God, the denomination in which I am ordained, does not celebrate same-sex marriages. This is a fact that I have never shied away from publicly, no matter the consequences. I have had innumerable people who have either left the church I pastor, or who have refused to visit because of this. That people don’t come because of this has troubled me. I mourn the friendships that have been lost and the friendships that were never formed.
But this is the nature of the pastorate. I cannot count the nights I have laid awake for hours wondering what alternative circumstances would have enabled me and a congregant who left over this or that issue to persist in relationship—no matter the discomfort, disagreement, or conflict.
But what has been particularly painful about LGBTQ+ issues is that I’ve rarely gotten a fair hearing about where I actually stand. My position is always reduced to a stereotype. I hesitate to blame the mainstream media because that seems to be a tired excuse. But in this case, I really think the point obtains. That Christian disagreement with LGBTQ+ morality is reduced to a list of phobias is a straw man. I think some people are ignorant, but there are many more who willfully misrepresent Christianity on all matters related to sexual morality.
That is not to say that Christians haven’t failed in numerous cases to affirm in practice the humanity and intrinsic dignity of LGBTQ individuals. But those stories seem to be the only ones getting airtime.
So, reader, I ask you: Allow Christians to have a nuanced sexual ethic. And if you are already a Christian, I ask you: Be nuanced.
Here is at least some of the nuance that I want to introduce into the conversation.
First, you can still be for people with whom you disagree. I have made this claim before, and people have looked at me like I have two heads. But I stand by it. I’m friends with a Muslim man who owns a Halal shop in Iowa City. I buy my goat meat from him. I disagree with Islam. My friend knows this. He sees the cross around my neck. He knows I’m a pastor. He knows that I grew up in a missionary family that was actively trying to convert Muslims to Christianity. But he calls me brother, because he knows that I am for him.
I have had black families in my church who have been the victims of gang violence in Chicago and Memphis. And some of their family members have been perpetrators of gang violence. I am against gang violence, yet my congregants know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am for their family members with criminal records. I have prayed for them, advocated for them, and I’ve talked to them on the prison phone telling them that no matter what they’ve done, I’m for them.
Let me be clear: whatever I disagree with about LGBTQ+ matters, I am for the people.
Second, the “L,” the “G,” the “B,” the “T,” the “Q,” and the “+” all represent unique moral questions. This shouldn’t need to be said, but let’s say it anyway: those who are pejoratively called “TERFs” (Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminists) exist. And their belief that you can’t be a woman unless you are a woman biologically is a belief they hold genuinely and in good faith. The existence of TERFs demonstrates that one can affirm the L but disagree with T. Ergo, not everyone has to affirm the entire acronym because they affirm some of it.
Somewhat in parallel, there are Christians who are L and G-affirming, but do not affirm B, T, Q, and +. Christianity has until very recently always said that marriage is the proper context for sexual union. L and G presume the possibility of until-death-do-us-part monogamous (or “monandrous”) marriages. B excludes that possibility if one is to live an authentically bisexual life. T is not about marriage.
And that brings me to Q and +.
Q resists easy definition, and it's dangerous to affirm something that cannot be defined. But in my reckoning the Q is just a milder version of the +. As a friend of mine pointed out recently, how does one define a mathematical symbol at the end of a lettered acronym? It seems to me that the whole point of the + is not to define it. It’s a symbol of infinite possibility (or, at least of there being as many expressions of human sexuality as there are letters in the Latin alphabet). Does anyone, not just Christians, really want to affirm infinite sexual orientations, desires, and unions? Surely, we can all agree there is a line somewhere—surely!
Third, there are Christians who experience same sex attraction, gender dysphoria, and all sorts of queer sexual impulses, but they refuse to embrace any of those things because of their dearly-held, genuine Christian beliefs. Another pastor I know is routinely asked, like me, if his church is “open and affirming.” He always responds by asking if the person posing the question can be comfortable with a church that is open and affirming to those who are open, but who do not affirm.
All of that to say, “affirming” should be about affirming each person’s humanity. Most everything else—LGBTQ, heterosexuality, or otherwise—is subject to scrutiny.
Finally—and I’ve already suggested this—everyone has a sexual ethic. The vast, vast majority of people still condemn rape, incest, and pedophilia. Reasonable and faithful people can and will disagree in good faith about what sexual activity is permissible, and I am not willing to abandon serious moral reasoning just to be affirming—and, in practice, neither are you. If you converse with me, or if you attend my church, that is where I begin the conversation. And I invite you to be willing to begin on that common ground with me. From there, we can discern together in the presence of the Holy Spirit what is good.
“‘Come, now, let us reason together,’ says the Lord.” (Isaiah 1:18).
Thank you Joseph for a reasonable and honest definition of terms. This is helpful for life-giving conversations
Joseph, another stellar piece. You speak f rom the trenches of pastoral life with its contours and speedbumps that are inevitably daunting. I've spent a lifetime trying to build relationships across a lot of spectrums politically and with other faith communities. My most enriching conversations used to be with mainline Protestants. Those days are gone. The vitriol that used to be the exclusive domain of fundamentalist conservative types has new competitors. Their identity politics is suffocating and their theology of welcome has its priority lists which I have no hope of being listed on. So much for inclusivity. Keep up your theological reflection of common sense.